Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17 SIX WEEKS LATER SUNDAY, JUNE 20 FITKIN MEMORIAL HOSPITAL NEPTUNE, NEW JERSEY Hugo opened his eyes. It was just getting light out, and he listened for the familiar sounds of a

Kenyan morning — shrieking monkeys and cawing birds and buzzing insects. Instead Hugo heard hushed voices and footsteps. No, he realized. He wasn't in Kenya. He was still in the hospital, in New Jersey. But finally today, after forty-five days, he was going home. The burns on his back were finally healing. The wounds still hurt. And Hugo had a big bald patch on the side of his head. The doctors couldn't say for sure whether the hair would grow back. But the worst was behind him. That's what everyone told him. But was it really? Hugo wasn't sure. Hugo couldn't wait to get out of the hospital. He missed Gertie — kids weren't allowed to visit. He missed Panya, too. And of course Marty, who had written to him every day. But part of Hugo was afraid to leave here, to be out in the world again.

He knew that everyone was still talking about the Hindenburg disaster. They'd want to talk to him about it, to hear his story, to share their ideas about what had caused the crash. Nobody knew for sure yet. Some said it was a bomb. Others were convinced it was a gas leak ignited by a spark from the lightning-filled sky. Hugo didn't want to think about any of that. He just wanted to forget that he was ever on the Hindenburg. He still had nightmares every night, terrible dreams filled with fire and smoke and giant hissing cobras. He'd wake up screaming, until the nurses rushed in with their hushed voices and comforting hands. Even during the day, terror would grab hold of him, out of nowhere. He'd catch a whiff of smoke, or take a bite of a warm roll that Mom and Dad brought for him. And his whole body would start to shake.

He'd think of the thirty-six people who had died in the crash, like Mr. Merrick. He'd think of Mr. Singer, whose burns were even worse than Hugo's. He'd think about how scared Gertie must have been when Mom dropped her out the dining room window into the arms of a man from the crew. He'd picture Mom leaping out with Miss Crowther, and breaking her wrist as she landed. And worst of all was thinking about Dad, who had stayed behind to search for Hugo. He'd rushed through the burning zeppelin calling Hugo's name until Mr. Lenz had dragged him away from the flames and pushed him through a burned-out hole in the wall. And what had happened to Hugo? How had he and Mr. Singer escaped from the burning field of wreckage? It turned out one of the Hindenburg's huge water tanks had hit the ground and burst open. Thousands of gallons of water had gushed out.

The cool waters had washed over Hugo and Mr. Singer, dousing the flames that threatened to kill them both. During the brief moments when the fires died down, two brave men from the ground crew had rushed in and carried them off the airfield. Mr. Singer was in bad shape. But he was getting better, too. He was at a different hospital, but Marty gave him reports in the letters she sent. She was staying with her grandparents in Boston until her father was better. At least Hugo didn't have to keep Mr. Singer's secret, because it wasn't a secret anymore. Dad had showed Hugo a long article in the New York Times about how a heroic man named Peter Singer had smuggled secret Nazi documents onto the Hindenburg. The papers listed the names of twenty dangerous German spies living secretly in the U.S. The spies reported to Colonel Joseph Kohl, who had died on the Hindenburg. By now, all of the spies had been captured.

Marty said that she and her father had even been invited to meet President Roosevelt. Later that morning, Mom and Dad came to take Hugo home from the hospital. And there was a surprise for him in the waiting room. At first Hugo didn't recognize the rosy-cheeked little girl who'd come prancing in. "Oogo!" Gertie ran up and flew into Hugo's arms. Tears sprang into his eyes as Gertie gripped him tight. But these were happy tears. Mom and Dad had told Hugo that the new malaria medicine had worked, that within a month of taking the first dose, there were no traces of the disease in Gertie's blood. But only now did Hugo truly believe that his sister was well.