Page 4 of Unlikely Heroes
“Aye, Grace,” Able said. His mind went to Euclid, always hovering nearby.You, sir, could you and your strange friends not allow this good man more years?he asked the nosy Greek that Meridee had banished from their bedroom. Euclid chose not to reply, as he seemed to do more and more lately.
Sir B’s eyes fluttered open. He tried to raise his free hand to Able, but the effort eluded him. Able knelt beside the bed and took his hand, holding it close to his chest.
“Captain…” What could he say? Able rested his head against his captain’s arm instead.
“And you, Meridee?” Sir B asked. His voice was clear enough, but it had a dreamy quality. “You should be resting.”
“I’ll keep,” Meri said. “Look here. I brought you a rout cake, one with the sugary sides that you always accused me of eating to excess, along with the lemony ones.”
Sir B shook his head. “Can’t swallow,” he managed.
Meri knelt beside Able. “Doesn’t matter. Let me touch it to your lips. I know you like the sugar.”
She touched his lips gently with the little delicacy. Sir B licked it and smiled. “Capitol, my dear. Able, what did you ever do to deserve her?”
“I have no idea, sir,” he said, nearly overcome.
Meri pressed close to him, then put her hand on Sir B’s arm, too. “I’ll take good care of him, Sir B,” she said. “I promise. You told me I was his keeper.”
“That’s all I ask.” He turned his head an inch or two toward them. “Able, you can do one thing for me.”
“Anything, sir.”
Able felt twelve years old again, when he had first come to Sir B’s – Captain St. Anthony’s – attention. It was in the southern Pacific near Otaiheite. The captain had caught him correcting the numbers on the blackboard on deck where Sailing Master Ferrier and midshipmen had been wrangling over an algebraic equation then left it, lesson over.
He had turned around to see the captain regarding him with something close to awe. Certain he was about to be flogged for some infraction or other, Able had stood there with his head bowed. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said.
“For what? For getting the equation right?” Captain St. Anthony had asked. “Master Ferrier told me about you.” Right there on the deck by the main mast the captain erased the board and wrote a whole string of equations. He left out salient details, then ordered Able to fill them in. It had been the work of mere minutes for Ordinary Seaman Six. His life was never the same after that.
All the memories crashed down on him as he rested his now-wet cheek against his captain’s hand. “Anything for you,” he repeated.
“Good,” Sir B said, sounding almost like himself. “I am nearly certain you will be recalled to the fleet this year.”
Meri gasped. Sir B patted her cheek. “Meridee, we all knew it might happen,” Sir B said. “That was the stipulation of your man’s employment at St. Brendan’s as our resident genius.”
“I know, but…”
“My dear, we have reached that time of national emergency.” With an effort, Sir B turned his attention to Able. “You must obey, of course, but do this: Speak to the Elder Brothers at Trinity House, specifically Warden Captain Rose.”
“What do you have in mind, sir?”
“MyJolly Rogeris a dandy yacht to use as a smallish sloop of war,” he said. His voice began to fade. “Carry messages from the fleet to… Admiralty…House. Train the Rats in speed … evasion.”
He was right. Able saw it instantly. He could fit his Gunwharf Rats for fleet actions and relay messages, because theJolly Rogerwas fast. “Aye, aye, sir,” Able said, twelve years old again for a millisecond. He kissed his mentor’s hand. “Thank you for everything.”
“You’re welcome. Thankyou.” Sir B turned his attention to Meri one last time. Able knew it was one last time. “Keep doing what you do…Mrs. Heart of Oak…your Ben… Able…Gunwharf Rats.”
She kissed his hand, tugged Able to his feet and stood back, her face calm and lovely in its serenity. “We’ll leave you alone with Grace, Sir B.”
Meri took him into the hall, then held him close in a fierce embrace. Only minutes passed. Grace opened the door and motioned to them. They joined her at her husband’s bedside.
Sir B had drifted to sleep, his arm still firm around his infant son. Grace stood between Able and Meri. “He told me he loved me – had for years, wretched man – and not to wait too long to remarry, because George needs a father. What a man I married.”
Meri kissed her and stepped back. Grace lay down beside her dying husband with a sigh.
Able took out his pocket watch. Grace’s arms went around Sir B and Meri covered them with a light blanket. He put his arms around his wife and she leaned against him. He knew how tired she was, his Mrs. Heart of Oak.
The door opened and Junius Bolt came in, Grace’s old retainer and Sir B’s valet of sorts. To Able’s surprise, Smitty sidled in, too. “I heard you leave, master,” he said to Able. “I ran all the way.”
