When the dock was out of sight he turned to Bess, his face already green with seasickness. “Strange how I am a grown man, and still it always feels the same to say good-bye to my mother.” He blushed.
“Let’s go to the dining hall before you become too ill to eat,” she replied.
Harry bowed to her ceremoniously. “What would I do without you to keep track of my meals?”
Bess laughed. “You may be weak on ships, but you’re quite strong in character.”
Harry smirked. “Now, we both know stubbornness is not the same as strength of character. It’s true, though. I’m helpless as a child without you.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and helped him across the deck. The other passengers watched them, some of the men stopping to clap Harry on the shoulder or shake his hand. Some were amazed that a man like him could be made ill so easily by the ocean. What they didn’t understand was that, in all his feats, he was in control; but even his immense abilities were powerless compared to the mighty ocean, writhing like an animal beneath them. Yet this would be a different voyage from their first, years earlier; this time they had a spacious room with a large window, and a butler, and a bed layered in cream silk sheets. Never in her life had Bess imagined she would be quarantined on a ship with a former president of the United States. She imagined dining next to him at tables set with heavy silver.
“It’s going to be a helluva trip,” Harry said.
But Bess didn’t answer. She was staring into the water at the wake.
“Bess? Darling, are you all right? Don’t tell me you’re ill now, too.”
She turned to him with a look of horror on her face. “Look there,” she said, pointing. “Do you see it?”
He clutched his stomach and leaned over the railing, staring at the white crests of the waves. “Look at what?”
She leaned over again, this time her eyes scanning the water frantically. “It’s gone.”
“What’s gone?”
“I don’t—I don’t understand. I saw—”
He gripped her arm. “What is it? What did you see? Tell me.”
“It was strange. It was a vision of your mother, in the water. Like a reflection in a pool.” Bess craned her head so she could still see the dock full of waving onlookers, like toy soldiers saluting. “It’s probably nothing,” she said, seeing Harry’s terrified face. “Just my mind playing tricks on me.” She wondered if she was coming down with whatever malady Harry had and was hallucinating. Still, she couldn’t help thinking that the souls of the Titanic passengers were trapped somewhere beneath the trembling waters. One could not travel now without imagining what it must have been like to cling to the rails of the ship in that black night.
“Let’s go inside for lunch,” she said. “It’s terribly chilly out here.”
On the second day of the voyage Harry reported to Bess that he had met the president on the deck, doing his morning exercises. The two had walked to breakfast together, and in the dining hall the ship’s captain had approached and asked Harry if he would perform as a medium for the passengers.
“What did you say?” Bess asked. “Did you agree?” Recently Harry had begun introducing medium tricks into his act, although he was careful never to claim, as he had long ago, that he was possessed of supernatural powers.
Harry pursed his lips together. “I looked at Mr. Roosevelt, and he said, ‘Go on, Mr. Houdini. Give us a little séance.’ So I had to agree. But it’s all in fun.”
Bess frowned. “Be careful. This is the president you’re performing for, after all. You don’t want to frighten him.”
Harry smiled his small, confident smile. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. Houdini. I’ve got a trick or two up my sleeve.”
“You mean you’re not going to tell me what you’re planning?”
“I think I’ll make it a surprise.”
“You’ll have to avoid eating beforehand, remember, so you don’t get sick and vomit all over Mr. Roosevelt.” Bess kissed him. “What is he like? What kind of man is he?” A few years earlier, Roosevelt had refused to shoot a bear cub he’d been gifted by a group of hunters in Mississippi, and Bess had admired him since.
“He’s quite a lively fellow.” Harry drew a deck of cards out of his pocket and began shuffling. “I rather like the man. You’ll like him, too, I’m certain.”
The “reading” took place in the ship’s first-class library that evening. It seemed to Bess that the entire roster of first-class passengers was in attendance; the room was filled to capacity, the crew having to bring chairs from the dining hall to accommodate them all.