Passage

“—says, ‘How long to fix her?’ and the harbormaster says, ‘Six months, maybe eight,’ ” and the captain says, ‘You got three days.’ ” Mr. Wojakowski slapped his knee in glee. “Three days!”

“And did they fix her in three days?” Joanna asked.

“You bet they did. Fixed her bulkheads and welded her boilers and sent her off to Midway. Raised her from the dead in three days flat. Hell, those Japs looked like they’d seen a ghost when she showed up and sank three of their carriers.”

He slapped his knee again. “But I didn’t know any of that then. I thought she was sunk for sure, and so was I. The Japs were already on Malakula. I talked the natives into smuggling me across to Vanikalo, but the Jap navy was landing on all those islands, so I swiped a dugout canoe and some coconuts, and set out for Port Moresby. I figured dying at sea’s better than being caught by Japs. And that’s just about what I did. I ran out of food and water, and sharks started circling, and I was thinking, I’m done for, when I see something on the horizon.”

He leaned forward, pointing past Joanna. “It’s a ship, and at first I think I’m seeing things, but it keeps coming, and as it gets closer, I see it’s got an island. I can see the masts and the antennas on it. Well, the only thing with an island like that is an aircraft carrier, and if it’s a Jap carrier I better get the hell out of there. I try to make out if there’s a rising sun on her flag, but I can’t tell, the sun’s right behind her island, and I can’t see a damn thing except that she’s coming straight at me. And then I see her hull number, CV-5, and I know it’s the Yorktown, risen up right out of the grave. I knew right then nothing and nobody could sink her.”

“But she sank at the Battle of Midway, didn’t she?” Joanna asked.

He glared at her. “Not before she sank three carriers and won the war, she didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Joanna said. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay,” Mr. Wojakowski said. “All ships sink sooner or later. But not that day. Not that day. That day she looked like she was going to stay afloat forever. I never seen a more beautiful sight in my life.” He gazed past them, remembering, his freckled face alight.

“I thought she was sunk, that I was never going to see her again. I thought I was done for, and here she was, plowing through the water toward me, her flags flying and every sailor on board leaning over the railing of the flight deck, all in their dress whites, waving their hats in the air and hollerin’ for me to come aboard. It was the best day of my life!” He beamed at Joanna, and then at Richard. “The best damned day of my life!”

It took Joanna another ten minutes to get Mr. Wojakowski back on track enough to tell them the tunnel was really a passageway and that there was a door at the end of it, with a bright light and people dressed in white when he opened it. “The light kept bouncing off ’em till I couldn’t see a damn thing.”

Joanna asked him how he’d felt during the NDE. “Felt? I don’t know that I felt anything. I was too busy looking at things. It was like when the Japs hit us that first time at Coral Sea. I remember thinking I should be scared outta my pants, only I wasn’t. Mac McTavish was standing next to me, and — ” It took all of Joanna’s skill and another ten minutes to stop him from going off into another story, and they never did get an answer.

“Sorry,” she apologized after Mr. Wojakowski finally left. “I didn’t want to risk asking him again.”

“It’s too bad his account of his NDE couldn’t be as colorful as that story about the Yorktown. rescuing him,” Richard said.

“He actually told us quite a bit,” Joanna said. “His being reminded of being attacked by Zeroes indicates he did feel some fear, even though he said he didn’t.”

“He was also reminded of the best damned day of his life,” Richard said. “He commented that the light was brighter than last time. Did Amelia Tanaka say anything about comparative brightnesses or radiance in her NDEs?”

“I don’t remember. I can check her accounts,” she said and stood up as if to go to her office.

“I don’t need it right now,” he said. “I was just wondering, Mr. Wojakowski’s endorphin levels were elevated this time, and I thought they might be producing the effect of the light.”

“ ‘…shiny white stuff the light kept bouncing off of,’ ” Joanna read from her notes. “That isn’t what struck me about his account. What struck me was that he opened the door.”

“Opened the door?” Richard said, wondering what was extraordinary about that.

“Yes, it’s the first time I’ve heard of an NDEer acting with volition. Every account I’ve heard has been a passive vision, with the NDEer seeing and experiencing things or being acted upon by other figures, but Mr. Wojakowski not only opened the door, he also stopped and listened purposely to the sound.” She started for the door. “I’ll check on the brightness.”