[CH.002] To Wisconsin

Lake Michigan | 2023

S.S Badger

The ship steamed full speed ahead; bound for Sturgeon Bay, WI on a routine crossing. Carrying cars from one side to the other. She's amongst one of the last coal powered ships of her time.

In a small single-bed stateroom, laid John. He is tense, muscles tight. Stomach uneasy, feeling nauseous. The thought of being on another ship, similar in size to the S.S Allure, spooked him.

The trauma is still fresh in his mind of that night. Saving another passenger from imminent death of drowning. Everything is still there, never to fade away.

To sleep through the 2 ½ hour crossing, he returned to his stateroom. His past is still on stand-by, waiting for moments like these to terrorize his fragile, mentally damaged mind. The memories still haunt him to this day.

As he closed his eyes and drifted off, it didn't take long for the haunting memories to flood back to him; this time in the form of a nightmare. It began around the time the Captain made an announcement to the entire ship.

Lake Michigan | 05 May, 1967

S.S Allure | 08:09:34 P.M

"Pardon the interruption ladies and gentlemen," Captain Harold Hendrickson said over the P.A. "At this time, I'm asking that everyone report to their muster stations. This is not a drill. Upon arrival at your stations, life jackets will be given to all. Follow these instructions and prepare for immediate evacuation. Thank you."

John was attending the dinner service in the forward Dining Lounge when the announcement came through. It was located on the Boat deck.

Sitting by himself, he remained distant from others sitting around him. Enjoying his last meal for the evening, the announcement triggered the waiters and waitresses. Cooks behind the buffet counter stopped cooking, and began cleaning up. The pianist stopped playing classical tunes, and other passengers began murmuring and talking amongst themselves.

"Not a drill?" One passenger questioned as he drank the last few drops of wine left in his glass. He set the glass back down on the clothed-over table and pushed his chair back. Getting up, he stumbled but caught his footing.

Does this have something to do with the brief power loss from earlier? John thought to himself.

The lake hasn't been the kindest. Riled up, waves battered the ship. It swayed back and forth slightly, and rocked up and down as it plowed through waves. Forecasts given by the crew stated: "A brief thunderstorm will slow our progress and make traversing the ship tiresome. The storm will pass soon. We apologize for the discomfort this may cause."

It wasn't until the ship rose up out of the water that the power briefly went out. A loud bang was heard as the ship shuddered. No one thought much of it, but many were spooked by the incident. Everything went back to normal once power was restored.

"I didn't know seasickness was part of the itinerary," an elderly lady said with displeasure in her voice.

"Dorothy darling," the old man sitting at a table next to John's said, "it's just a storm. It'll pass."

"Nonsense, Russ!" Dorothy replied as she smacked her husband's hand. She was quite displeased with the voyage thus far in-part to the passing storm.

As for John, he pushed his chair back, dabbed his mouth with the napkin and threw it down onto the plate with the food he hadn't finished.

"Excuse me," he said to Russ and Dorothy. He doesn't know their names yet, and they haven't met until now. "I'm sure everything is fine. These waters are always riled up. Mustn't waste time. You heard the Captain."

"He sounded serious," Russ told John, "does that mean anything to you?"

John stood for a moment, thinking on what he should say back. With Dorothy already being unsettled and upset, saying the wrong thing could only escalate her displeasure. With a faint smile, he said:

"Well…we aren't on the Titanic. There are no icebergs on the Great Lakes."

"What does that mean?" Dorothy complained.

"It means we're fine. I'm just as new to cruising as you are," John told her.

What he didn't tell her was that he had ended up onboard the ship somehow. And that he wasn't from this time. That was something he's kept to himself ever since he awoke in a stateroom this morning.

"I apologize if I've upset you madam," John said to Dorothy, "that wasn't my intention."

"Quite alright young man," she said, "I'm not upset with you. Then again, why would I be? I don't even know you."

"John Daley," he told her as he held out his hand. "And you are?"

"Dorothy Stevens," she replied, "and this is my dimwit of a husband; Russel Stevens."

"People call me Russ," he corrected as he shook hands with John. He pushed his chair back after doing that, getting up.

"You seem like a bright, smart young man," Russ said, "where are you from?"

"Detroit, sir," John said, "Born and raised in Detroit."

"Is that so?" Russ questioned, "what part?"

The lights dimmed as if the power was going to go out again. But the lights returned to full brightness a moment later.

"Again?" Dorothy complained with a sigh as Russel helped her out of her seat. She grabbed her walker and let go of his hand.

"Like this young man said, Russ…we mustn't waste time." She turned and looked over at John. "It was lovely meeting you dear."

"Likewise," John replied.

The ship sounded out one long groan, followed by an eerie creaking noise. John checked the time on his pocket watch; something he's never had nor owned in his life.

It's strange. The fact that the Apple Watch he was wearing when he went to bed, wasn't on his wrist when he woke up.

Little did John know that by saying his full name aloud, he thereby unanimously put his name on the passenger manifest. He wouldn't find this out until much later down the road.

Sturgeon Bay

S.S Badger | Present Day

A crew member walked up to his open stateroom door. She noticed he was sound asleep and wondered why. It's a beautiful day outside. Clear skies and warm with a gentle breeze from the northwest.

Wearing a fuzzy blue pull-over sweater with the ship's name [S.S Badger] on the upper left side of her sweater.

"Mr. Daley," she said in a soft tone.

Being the light sleeper he is, John woke up. Slowly sitting up, throwing his feet over the side of the bed to hang down towards the floor. He rested his hands on his thighs as he looked up and over at her.

"Yes?"he asked her.

"We've requested that all passengers gather in the aft lounge area. We'll be arriving shortly. Please prepare for disembarkation," the female crew member said with a warm smile.

"Thank you," John replied.

"You're welcome," she replied as she walked away and out of sight. The sounds of her walking down the hall got quieter as she got further away.

Rubbing his eyes and yawning, he stood up to stretch and wake up. It worked in his favor. By napping for the crossing duration, it passed the time.

Looking down at his watch, the watch-screen turned on. 16:28:22 the time was. Walking over to the window, he looked out.

The Badger was approaching its destination: Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin.

"It really is beautiful outside, isn't it?" A familiar voice said from behind. When John turned around to see who was talking to him, he got his answer.

"Russ?" John questioned.

After returning to the present, Russ had long passed. Fifty-seven years on, and John had merely forgotten about him other than the nightmares and random flashbacks.

"How've you been, my boy?" Russ asked.

After the sinking of the Allure, Russ and Dorothy had returned home to Oak Creek. From there, they lived out the rest of their lives. Of course, however, they continued to cruise on the Great Lakes until their deaths eight years later in 1975.

You're probably asking yourself how Russ can be here in the same room as John aboard the S.S Badger. Answer: he lives on through John; in his head. The memories and nightmares are what keeps Russ around.

"Better–," he began saying as Russ interrupted.

"No need to lie, my friend," Russ said, "I feel what you feel, I remember what you remember. It's okay. I struggled too. Me and Dorothy."

John sighed and shrugged his shoulders, looking down at the floor with despair. Being reminded constantly of that night only further fueled his depression. It also fuels his need to tell the World his story and bring a 57 year old case to a "satisfying conclusion."

"If you hadn't saved my life that night, I wouldn't have lived those nine extra years. Dorothy would've been widowed. It's because of you we were reunited."

John's phone started ringing. Someone was calling him. He held his finger up to indicate to Russ to hold on.

"I'll wait," Russ mumbled as he put his hands down in front of him.

"John Daley," he said as he answered the call.

"Hi John. It's Harold Peters. How was your trip? Comfortable I hope."

"I beg to differ, but the crossing went by without incidents," John told Harold.

"Ah, good to hear. I'm waiting by the pier. I'll be your escort back to our offices. I've arranged for you to stay in a hotel nearby. All costs are covered through my office. Food, lodging. Anything you need, just ask. We want this to be as comfortable as possible while we work together."

"Yeah, about that. Just curious. How long will these interviews take? When will I be able to go home?"

"To prevent the press from disclosing any confidential information to the public, we must not discuss anything further over the phone. I apologize for this hiccup."

"No need," John said. "I understand. Talk soon."

"Sounds good," Harold replied as he ended the call from his end. When John took the phone away from his ear and put it back in his pocket, he turned around to resume talking to Russ. But he wasn't there anymore.

"Talk later then," John mumbled as he sat back down on the bed, leaning over to grab his shoes and put them on.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the Captain announced, "We have arrived at our destination: Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin. The boat has docked. Passengers with vehicles are asked to report to ramps to obtain your keys and disembark. Others who have not brought vehicles, I ask you to proceed to disembarking ramps. My crew and I here aboard the S.S Badger thank you for sailing with us. We hope to see you and serve you again soon."

Upon leaving the ship with his single suitcase and backpack, he saw a man standing next to his red car parked nearby. An old man, who looked to be in his late 60's, was holding a piece of paper with a name on it: John D.

"Mr. Peters," John said.

"Mr. Daley," Harold responded as he folded the paper up, then slid it into his pocket. He held his hand out to shake John's.

"Glad you could come out," Harold said.

"Anything to get the word out, you can count me in," John said.

"Good to hear. Why don't we grab a bite to eat…on me, then get you checked into your hotel. Office is closed for the remainder of the day. But we'll head over there tomorrow morning. If all goes according to plan, you'll be back home by Friday," Harold explained.

"Sounds good. No need for such hospitality," John stated.

"I know what you've been through. I've read up on everything there is to know about you–not in a creepy way. I've been in your shoes, I know how you feel and I know how hard it is to come out like you'll do tomorrow. It's a rough world."

"That it is," John responded.

"Hop in," Harold told John. "You can put your things in the backseat."