Fragmentation Read online

  “I’m sorry. I guess I have offended you.”

  “No, not at all, a lot of people make the same mistake, especially if they aren’t from around there. Union City is quite large and much better known.”

  “Okay, now it’s your turn. What was it like growing up in Union?”

  “I’m the middle child of a very Irish Catholic family with an older brother and a younger sister. I even have an aunt who is a nun. My grammar school was Saint Michael’s, where they had the strictest nuns and student’s uniforms designed specifically to not show the figure. Fortunately, after Saint Michael’s I was able to convince my parents to let me attend public schools and I graduated from Union High School. After graduation, I attended Farleigh Dickinson University’s Madison campus and received my degree in biology. I was what they called a ‘Day Hop’ and commuted to school from home. After graduation, I attended Rutgers University and received a Masters Degree in biology and, for the last five years, I have been slaving away at good old Farrell Labs. I share an apartment with Angela Ward, a teacher in Philadelphia.”

  The waiter appeared asking if they were ready to order.

  They both looked at each other and Colleen laughingly said, “We haven’t even looked at the menu yet.”

  “We better have a look,” urged David. ”What’s good here?”

  “This place smells so good; I don’t think we could possibly go wrong with anything. I’m going to have the Veal Marsala.”

  “I’m leaning toward the Eggplant Parmesan. You know, up until a few years ago, Italian food was very hard to come by in the south. It’s only recently that a good variety of ethnic foods became available in the Atlanta area. Of course, outside the more affluent areas, it’s still just all biscuits and gravy with very well done string beans.”

  “Then you’ve had a deprived childhood with respect to food.”

  “I guess you could say so, but I’m learning fast.”

  “Do you ever go down the shore?” asked Colleen.

  “Down the shore? Where’s that?”

  “It’s down the shore, silly. That is what we say here when we mean to go to the beach. You know the ocean or the bay. The expression’s a New Jersey thing, I guess.”

  “Atlanta was pretty far from the ocean. We mostly went to the lakes. There is man-made lake about ten miles north of Alpharetta called Lake Lanier. Actually, it’s very large, with six hundred miles of shoreline, houseboats and many parties on the weekends. For a number of years my parents had a ski boat, which we took to the lake on the weekends. I learned to water ski and wakeboard when I was twelve.”

  They placed their orders and continued their conversation.

  “My parents have a house down the shore, in a place called Ocean Beach II. It’s small, but we just love going there and the house is on the bay where we keep a boat. I was thirteen when I learned to ski and David, it took me forty-eight tries to get up. Can you believe it? My brother and his friends taught me and I was becoming somewhat of a joke among them. I guess it was just a mental block, because the next time I got right up on the skis like it was nothing. After that I was very determined and now I can slalom with the best of the boys.”

  “Wow, forty eight tries, that has to be some kind of record,” laughed David, “I guess you were determined, because most people would have quit long before the forty-eighth try. Now I’m not bragging, but I was able to get up on the first try. A bit of luck was probably involved, but I’m also pretty well coordinated.”

  Their meals arrived and David ordered two more glasses of wine. The conversation flowed easily and David was amazed at how relaxed he felt with Colleen.

  Over cheesecake and coffee for dessert David said, “I really do want you to look at the samples I have, it wasn’t just a ruse to ask you out.”

  “I know, it does sound interesting. Perhaps we could go in tomorrow and have a look?”

  “I was afraid to ask if you wanted to do that, but it would be great if you could.”

  “Sure, I’m not doing anything. Can you pick me up?”

  “I’d be glad to, but I don’t know where you live.”

  “Oh, it’s easy; I’m in the River View Apartments, just off Bristol Pike. They are actually in the town of Croydon.”

  “The ones near Neshaminy State Park?”

  “Yes, almost right next to it, with a small view of the Delaware River. It’s about twelve miles from the lab. We are in Apartment A-12, which is in the A building, on the ground floor and on the left side facing the building; apartment number 12.”

  “Sounds easy, how about 2:00 PM. I have some errands to run in the morning.”

  “Works for me.”

  Afterward, David walked Colleen to her car. She told him she had a delightful evening and looked forward to seeing him tomorrow.

  David felt great and thought to himself, “Why couldn’t I just have asked her out a long time ago?” He drove slowly back to his apartment smiling the whole way.

  Chapter 3

  David finished running his errands by 12:30 and decided to grab a burger and fries at the Burgermaster. As he left the restaurant and got into his car, he placed the bag of food on the seat next to several other empty bags and soda cans. Suddenly his car seemed to scream for attention. In short, it was a mess. The late model blue BMW convertible contained copious amounts of paper and trash on the inside and was just plain dirty on the outside. It looked like a trip to the car wash was a good idea before picking up Colleen. He ate quickly and then emptied most of the mess from the inside of his car into the dumpster behind the restaurant and made a run to the car wash. It needed the full treatment to get the BMW looking respectable again.

  Returning to his apartment in the now sparkling Beemer, he changed into jeans, a polo shirt and sneakers. It was a hot, humid day in the city and the forecast was for the temperature to be in the low nineties. It never ceased to amaze him how hot it actually got up north.

  From his apartment on Allegheny Avenue in Philadelphia, he would just hop onto Route 95, go north for a few miles to the Cornwell Heights exit, get on State Road and find the Riverview Apartments. It looked easy and, in fact, it was. He arrived in just fifteen minutes and had to drive around a while so as not to be too early.

  David found apartment A-12 and rang the bell. A pretty brunette, who introduced herself as Angela Ward, Colleen’s roommate, greeted him.

  “Colleen will be ready in a few minutes; can I get you a soda or something?”

  “Thanks, but I’m fine, I just ate lunch and drank a very large tea.”

  A moment later, Colleen entered the living room wearing white shorts, a red blouse and a big smile. “David, it looks like I’m late again.”

  “No you’re not, I’m early.”

  Angela rolled her eyes at the two of them and said, “I can’t believe that you two are going into work on a day like this. You should be headed down the shore.”

  “David has something very interesting to show me at work and I can’t wait to see it.”

  Angela’s eyes rolled again, “Well have fun; at least it’s cool in there. Jimmy and I are going to the mall and then out to dinner and a movie. I’ll see you guys later.”

  As they reached David’s car in the parking lot, Colleen exclaimed, “Nice Beemer David, I would have figured you for something more like a Ford Taurus or a Volvo. I’m impressed.”

  Twenty minutes later, they were at Farrell Laboratories. There was always someone at the lab on the weekend and more often than not, it was David.

  “It will take me a few minutes to set up the Electron Microscope with the sample. Once I do you will be able to see what I’m talking about.”

  David adjusted the electron microscope for a few minutes and called Colleen over, “Have a look at this and notice there are several different kinds of molecules that are pr
esent in the sample.”

  Colleen took a long look, adjusted the field several times, looked at David and said, “This cannot be.”

  “What are you saying?” he asked in a cautious voice.

  “I would have to run some tests, but what I think I’m seeing really can’t be there.”

  David felt a mixture of both relief and dismay, as he asked her what she meant by they cannot be there.

  “Well, to begin with, these appear to be the kinds of molecules that make up the human body; you know the elements we are made of. What I surely do not understand is how they got where they are. I mean, if some poor soul fell into the molten metal while it was being manufactured he would have burned up rather quickly and the molecules that made up his body would have been destroyed, leaving only their component atoms. Another thing, many of them would have been out gassed as they were vaporized and would have gone up in smoke so to speak. This is just amazing.”

  “Well, I told you it was interesting.”

  “Yes, but there has to be some logical reason why this happened, I mean this seems to violate the laws of chemistry or perhaps even physics. Maybe we should do additional research on this to see if it has ever occurred before. What ship did you say the sample came from?”

  “I’m not exactly sure, why?”

  “Just curious, we could see if there was anything strange that happened to it, like it was used during the A-bomb test off Bikini Atoll in the Pacific, or something weird like that,” questioned Colleen.

  “That would be something, but I just got the idea it was an old worn out ship that was being scrapped. I’m sure the people at the DeCosta Scrap Yard know where it came from.”

  “Where did you say they are located?”

  “On the south side, near where the Schuykill River joins up with the Delaware. Not the greatest area, but okay for a scrap yard.”

  “Do you want to take a ride and see if we can find out what ship it is?”

  “It’s almost 3:30 PM; they might still be open, why not?”

  DeCosta Scrap Metals, was the epitome of an old industrial scrap yard. The place consisted of large piles of rusting iron and steel separated only by pathways of mud and smaller piles of debris. David pulled up to the gate, told the guard he was from Farrell Labs and wanted to speak with the foreman. Looming like a specter along the waterfront was the unmistakable hull of an old ship, partially disassembled and rusting. David found the office and they went in.

  Mario Russo sported a two-day growth of beard and a fresh cigar. He extended a friendly hand to David and asked what he could do for them. David explained they worked for Farrell Labs and they were doing some work on a sample of metal that had come from an old ship.

  Even though he still had the original sample David said,” We need another sample piece since the original one was inadvertently discarded. It’s my fault and I need another one before my boss finds out about it on Monday.”

  “No problem kid, I’ll have one of the boys get it.” He called on the radio and instructed someone to bring in another sample-sized piece from the ship.

  “Done, it will take about fifteen minutes,” replied Mario, “and you will be on your way. You’re lucky; we close at 4:00 PM. Another five minutes and we would have locked the gates.”

  “I’m just curious, but what is the name of the ship the sample is coming from?”

  “Why it’s the old Aratusa, it used to be a fancy yacht before it was conscripted for use by the Navy during WW II. The Navy renamed it the USS Morgan, but the name Aratusa is still on it in several places. I guess that after the War the original owner no longer had a use for it because it just sat there for many years near the old Packer Marine Terminal. Used to be real nice, but they never maintained it, then in April, the Navy asked us to scrap it.”

  Someone from the yard brought in two new samples, telling them to be careful since there were some sharp edges.

  David asked, “Did they come from the same area as the original pieces?”

  “Yup, I cut them out right next to the others on the deck house.”

  They thanked the foreman and promised to be a lot more careful with the new samples. David put them in the trunk of the BMW and they left.

  “I’ll bet we could find out some information about the Aratusa in the library,” suggested Colleen. “What do you think?”

  “Do you have time?”

  “What else do I have to do? And besides, it would be fun. This is really getting interesting and I would like to if you don’t mind.”

  “I’d love to; its just that I thought someone like you would have something a lot better to do on a Saturday night.”

  “Well,” she paused, “we could go to the library and get something to eat and catch a movie. Does that work for you?” She flashed her blue eyes and David got a little weak in the knees.

  “Works for me.”

  “Okay, let’s head into the city and go to the library first. It’s on Vine Street between nineteenth and twentieth, you can’t miss it.”

  “You are the navigator,” bantered David.

  They easily found a parking spot, probably because not many people went to the library on a Saturday afternoon. The Central Library of Philadelphia is a large world-class facility, with everything from rare antique volumes to electronic books.

  “Where do we begin?” debated Colleen.

  “I believe we need to look for Lloyds Register of Ships. It is a listing of all ships,” replied David with some confidence.

  “Wow, how did you know that?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think I read it somewhere, perhaps in Yachting magazine. My Father used to subscribe to it.”

  Lloyds Register of American Yachts lists all yachts built from 1904 to 1977. The ships are listed alphabetically by the original name given to it. There is a lot of information on each vessel, about its construction, specifications, certification for the number of passengers it could carry and things of that nature.

  The Aratusa was listed as having been built in 1929 as a steel single screw, steamer-yacht with two decks, fitted for oil fuel and electric light. Tonnage was 5,386 gross tons. The length was 210 feet, with a beam of 26.5 feet and a depth of 19.2 feet. Propulsion was by means of a 4-stroke single acting oil engine with 6 cylinders and 271 horsepower. The original owner was Morgan Sterling III and the port of registry listed as Newport, Rhode Island. There were notations just below: “Lost at sea, December 10, 1944, all hands missing.”

  “Well, that’s the damnedest thing I’ve ever heard. Why is it listed as being lost at sea, when in fact it is right here in Philadelphia?”

  “That does seem a little strange David, maybe it has to do with it being renamed the USS Morgan?”

  “Why don’t we look in the Lloyds Register of Ships for the USS Morgan?”

  David went back into the computer and searched for a ship named USS Morgan. There was a Charles W. Morgan, a whaling ship, but no USS Morgan.

  “Well, that’s odd, let’s look at other reference books dealing with the WWII era to see if we can come up with anything.”

  They looked in the Navy’s Computerized Shipwreck Database, under older vessels, described as sunk and raised, but there was no mention of either the Aratusa, or the USS Morgan. Both Colleen and David poured over a number of documents involving WW II vessels, but again both names seemed not to exist.

  “Here is something interesting,” commented Colleen, “have you ever heard of the ‘Philadelphia Experiment’?”

  “Wasn’t that an old movie with Rock Hudson or somebody like that?”

  “No David, that was the Philadelphia Story, a movie with Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant. What I’m talking about is an experiment the government supposedly did during the Second World War to try and make a ship invisible.”

  “What h
as that got to do with the Aratusa?”

  “Nothing, I guess, it’s just interesting, kind of like the ‘Roswell Incident’ about the flying saucers.”

  “Colleen, it’s getting to be time to think about dinner and a movie, instead of flying saucers.”

  “What did you have in mind, dress up or casual?”

  “Oh, have you ever been to New Hope?”

  “No, where’s that?”

  “It’s along the Delaware, probably twenty five miles north of my place. It is a very quaint town, filled with an eclectic collection of creative people and some of the very best restaurants in Pennsylvania.”

  “I’m game, but we would have to do the movie some other time wouldn’t we?”

  “Yes, but I think you’ll love this place, what do you think?”

  “Okay, but I’m going to have to change clothes. Do you mind swinging by my apartment on the way back to your place?”

  “That’s cool; I’d like to see where you live.”

  Chapter 4

  It was about almost seven when they arrived at David’s apartment.

  While Colleen waited in the living room, she looked around and noticed the apartment was really quite nice, not at all what she expected for a bachelor. David was in the bedroom rummaging thru his closet for a pair of slacks, golf shirt and some loafers. It was not as though he played a lot of golf, but the shirt was good for a casual evening. He emerged about fifteen minutes later, ready to go.

  “Well, you clean up pretty well,” commented Colleen.

  David flushed, “We had better be going.”

  Arriving at Colleen’s place they were greeted by her roommate.

  “Angela, I thought you and Jimmy were going out to dinner?”

  “We are, but Mr. Clumsy spilled his drink all over himself and the car. Actually, some guy pulled out in front of us just as he was taking a sip of soda. Jimmy hit the brakes and the drink hit the windshield then fell back into his lap. He went home to change and clean the car. We’re having a delayed start. What are you guys up to?”