Chapter Eight — Showgirls
“What does it say? What do the four flags in the middle mean?” Finn asked, stumbling over his words in impatient curiosity.
“No idea. We’ll have to look them up. White with a blue cross, blue with a yellow X, and two with red, white, and blue horizontal stripes from top to bottom.” He mumbled to himself for a minute and counted on his fingers, then said, “Okay, we need to remember this code: one, three, six, six.”
“One three six six, one three six six. Got it!”
A few moments later, when the dolphins swam on, the tender turned to make its way back to the ship. The code flags were hurriedly pulled back into the porthole.
“Frankie, where’d the flags go?”
Frankie pulled out his spyglass again and focused on that part of the ship. “Gone.”
“Interesting.”
“Agreed.”
Once they got back to the ship, they rushed to their stateroom to search for a list of flag signals. Finding nothing, they paid a visit to the shipboard library and looked up the code.
“One three six six. It’s the code for help!” Frankie whispered in surprise.
Finn’s eyes widened. “We need to find what’s located at that part of the ship.”
Easily finding information about the ship in the compact library, they deduced the flags had been hung from a porthole in the laundry room.
“A message from the laundry room asking for help? It’s gotta be them!” Finn exclaimed.
“I think you may actually be right!”
“But how can we get to them? There’s no deck outside that part of the ship. And I have no doubt the door is locked. Otherwise they would have escaped.”
“And if we go prowling around the hallway in front of the room, we could get caught too! For all we know, the room’s being guarded.”
“What’s the deck above the laundry room?”
“That would be the Promenade Deck. We’re gonna need some string, by the way.”
“String?”
“Let’s go.”
They moved quickly toward the part of the ship in question. The entire vessel was quiet, as this was the time of day the bulk of the passengers generally chose to take a siesta. Afternoon tea service was just winding down, and most people were in their rooms napping or relaxing before dinner service. As the boys walked down a hallway on the Promenade Deck before going outside, Frankie espied a maid’s cart.
“Excuse me, by any chance do you have any string or twine?” he asked.
“No, I am sorry. May I ask what it is for?”
Frankie stammered, unprepared to fake an answer. “Uh … for fishing, yes fishing. Or do you have any fishing line?”
“No, but I do have thread. Will that work?”
“One way to find out.”
The woman produced a spool of black thread from a sewing kit on her cart. Frankie grabbed it and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You’re a lifesaver.”
She giggled and put her palm to her cheek as Frankie and Finn dashed off.
When they ventured outside on the deck, no one was in sight.
“You hit the deck and call to them,” Frankie said. “My knees aren’t made for this stuff.”
While Frankie stood guard, Finn went flat on the deck and called over the side, just above where they thought the laundry room was located. “Hello, hello? Anyone there?”
“Mr. Finn, is that you?” Maggie’s voice chirped.
“Get us out of here!” Chuck shouted.
Finn grinned at Frankie. “It’s them all right. What do we do now?”
“Step aside and let the master do his work.” He pulled the spool of thread and the skeleton key from his pocket, then tied the end of the thread to the head of the key.
“Brilliant!” Finn exclaimed, then he called back down to the kids. “Hold on kids, we’re gonna get you out of there!”
“How, pray tell?” Maggie inquired.
“I have a key that works on any lock,” Frankie answered. “We’re going to lower it down in front of the porthole.”
“Hurry!” Chuck commanded.
Frankie handed the spool to Finn who let out the thread and dangled the key down the side of the ship, unable to tell if it was in front of the porthole. “Can you reach it?”
“I don’t see it,” Chuck said.
“Okay, I’ll lower it a little more. Do you see it now?”
“Yes, but the porthole is too high for us to reach,” Maggie said.
“Then how’d you hang the flags?”
“We stood on a step stool to flash the mirror and hang the flags. But someone must have caught sight of the flags, because the constable stormed in and confiscated the flags and the stool, not to mention the compact mother gave me!”
“Do you have a broom or something you can use to pull the thread and key in through the porthole?”
“Yes,” Chuck said. “Got one right here.”
“Okay. Just let me know when you’re read—”
Before Finn could finish his sentence, the thread was pulled from his hands and disappeared. “The key’s gone! Please tell me you guys have it.”
“Sort of,” Maggie replied.
Frankie cocked his head in curiosity. “Sort of?”
“My brother pulled the broom with such force, it sent the spool of thread and key flying. We didn’t hear a clang or a thud, so I’m fairly certain it landed in one of the vats of laundry. It’s just a matter of fishing it out.”
“Okay, we’ll go come up with a plan while you look for it,” Finn said. “By the way, is anyone scheduled to come check on you any time soon?”
“Yeah. They should be here in about an hour with our gruel,” Chuck replied.
“And we were told to expect a visit from showgirls around midnight,” Maggie said.
“Showgirls?”
“Yes, Mr. Finn. Evidently, after their performances, showgirls bring their costumes to the laundry to be cleaned and ready for the next day’s performance. They will be accompanied by a guard to ensure we don’t escape. Other than that, only the housekeeping staff comes down here. And that’s first thing in the morning. But this is our last day in the laundry.”
“You mean your last day because they’re letting you go?” Finn asked. “Or because we’re going to rescue you?”
“She means cuz the police chief guy said the child welfare people are coming tomorrow to pick us up,” Chuck said.
“Is this true, Margaret?” Finn asked.
“Yes, Mr. Finn. It turns out they’ve just been keeping us here until someone could come and get us. Tomorrow’s the day. Being that it’s the weekend, the local social worker has the day off and is making a special trip to fetch us. At least that’s what the cruise constable was saying to the guards.”
“Got it. Margaret, Chuck, we’ll come back to this spot in about an hour and a half to see if you’ve found the key and been served your gruel,” Finn called out.
“After that we can make our move,” Frankie announced.
“What move is that?” Finn asked.
“The move we’re sure to come up with between now and then!”
While Frankie put the finishing touches on their plan, Finn went back to the Promenade Deck to try to talk to the kids. Rather than announce his presence by using his voice (should anyone other than the kids answer), he knocked on the side of the ship using their Eine Kleine Nachtmusik code.
“We’re here, Mr. Finn,” Maggie called out. “We have already had our gruel and we are ready for you to make your move.”
Finn took a deep breath. “Kids, when you see us next … well let’s just say, I hope you don’t scream … or have nightmares later.”
He forced himself to walk slowly back to the stateroom so as not to look anxious. When he entered, Frankie was ready, and grinning.
“Please tell me there’s another way,” Finn implored.
“Not if you want to avoid detection. Come on, we should get some shuteye while we can. Who knows what we’ll be in for tonight.”
The boys stuffed some clothing in their satchels and then settled in to sleep.
At 11:45 p.m. Finn pressed the button on the alarm clock to stop its buzzing.
“Time to get up,” he said to Frankie.
“I’ve changed my mind. Let’s go tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow will be too late. Now once and for all, get up!”
It took Finn rolling Frankie out of bed to get Frankie to open his eyes and stand upright. They then both slid on their shoes and headed toward the door.
Frankie put his hand on the door handle then stopped. “You do realize this will probably be the last time we’re in this room.”
“Oh I’m sure of it … And it’s worth it.”
They made their way through the ship until the got to the lower deck where the laundry room was located. Once they found the restroom nearest to the laundry, they ducked inside. “Here goes nothin’,” Frankie said.
“Or everything.”
Moments later, two showgirls exited the men’s bathroom, one walking awkwardly in her high heels, each carrying a satchel.
Finn tapped on the laundry room door using the signature knock, and Maggie unlocked and opened the door to reveal a humid, cramped room that smelled of musty, sweaty linens and starch.
Upon taking one glance at Frankie and Finn, Maggie gasped, Chuck fell over in laughter, and Betsy burst out crying.
“Mr. … Mr. Finn, is that you?” Maggie asked.
“Wow, you sure are pretty!” Chuck said, reaching a hand toward Finn’s chest.
Finn swatted Chuck’s hand away. “We know. It’s all very funny, but it’s the best way to get you out. Let’s put Betsy in Frankie’s satchel. Maggie, I’m going to wrap you up in a costume cape and carry you under my arm.”
“What about me?” Chuck asked. “Am I gonna dress up like a showgirl too?”
“You’re going to have to waddle along under my skirt,” Frankie said as he hoisted up the long layers of fabric to expose hairy legs, dress socks, and men’s shoes.
Once everything and everyone one was in the proper place, they exited, locking the door behind them. No one was around, so they made it down the hallway without a hitch.
“I think this actually might work!” Finn whispered.
“Of course it’s gonna work!” Frankie responded.
They walked down the next hallway without seeing a soul—that is, until a showgirl accompanied by an inebriated crew member, approached them. Stumbling and talking loudly, the man remarked to Finn, “Nice gams.”
“Knock it off, Harry,” the showgirl scolded as she endeavored to keep him upright.
“That was close,” Finn whispered as they continued on.
“He’s right,” Frankie said.
“About what?”
Frankie snickered. “You do have nice legs.”
Finn reached out to swat Frankie’s headdress which made him wobble on his high heels.
As they turned a corner, a deputy constable bumped into Frankie, causing Frankie’s headdress to tilt and start to fall off.
“My apologies, miss,” the deputy said.
“Don’t mention it,” Frankie replied in a falsetto voice.
The collision had caused Chuck to lose his balance, and as Frankie took a step forward, Chuck tripped and fell to the ground, his legs sticking out beneath Frankie’s skirts.
“Say, what’s the meaning of this?!” demanded the deputy.
“Everybody, run!” Frankie shouted as he lifted his skirts to sprint.
The deputy blew a whistle, then ran down the hall to lift the receiver on a wall phone. “Alert the chief constable. I’ve found the stowaways. A pair of showgirls freed them.”
All at once, the metal crew stairway leading down to the unglamorous lower decks thundered with the sound of crewmen descending at speed. The chief constable’s voice rang out in the stairwell, “Don’t let them get away. Use force if you must!”
The chase was on.