Page 10 of Miss Whittier Makes a List
“I should,”he replied,pouring her another large cup of water and standing there until she finally took it and drank.“Except that they are probably most unprofitable these days, and I would not have you think ill of all of us. Miss Whittier, do you playdraughts?Checkers to you, I suppose.”
She brightened up immediately.“Mama doesn’t think I know how, but my brothers taught me,”she said.
“Well, I would hardly like to be party to your total dissipation,”he began, a twinkle in his eyes.“Perhaps I can find an improving book, likeCoastal Shoals and Lee Shores of Mediterranean Spain,”he said.“I know Daniel has a copy.”
“Ohno,”she said hurriedly.“Checkers, if thee pleases.”
It was hard to think of the captain as having a first name that anyone ever used, she thought as the surgeon tapped on the door separating the sleeping cabin from the greatroomand was invited in by His Majesty. He was gone a long while; she closed her eyes and resigned herself to another evening spent in isolation. Soon she began to worry about her parents, and Hosea, who was probably beside himself by now, wondering what had become of theMolly Claridge.
She rested her chin on her hands. When news reached Mama and Papa onOrange Street, there would be a memorial service. It will be a sad one for her family, she thought, and also for the Winslows, mourning both a husband and son. There would be a long, long prayer, the kind that made her squirm, and then a melancholy pilgrimage to the dock, where Mama would drop a handful of flowers into the water and sob on Papa’s broad chest. Her own chin quivered. How much they will miss me.
“My God, Miss Whittier, such a mournful expression,”came a familiar voice at the cabin door.
She opened her eyes to see the captain himself standing there, leaning against the door frame, conforming himself gracefully to the roll of the ship. He was dressed in white canvas trousers and a white shirtand his shoes were off.
“I am contemplating the memorial service my parents will have in the Friends Meetinghouse, when they hear the sad news from my brother,”she replied, tugging the sheet up a little higher on her flaming shoulders in an attempt to dignify her situation.
“I cannot fathom anyone missing you,”he said frankly.“You’re certainly a lot of trouble to me. Tell me, will they hold a similar meeting of thanksgiving when you finally return?”
“Probably not,”she replied, her voice formal.
“I shouldn’t wonder at that,”he murmured and went back into the great cabin. In another moment she heard the rustle of charts, and then the surgeon reappeared.
“He is so rude,”she whispered as Andrew Lease set the checkerboard down in front of her and pulled his chair up close.
“The captain?”Lease asked, placing the pieces on the board.“He’s supposed to be. Now, mind yourself,if you plan to win.”
She won two games out of four as the ship slid silently through the water, taking her farther and farther from home. During the final game, she heard the scraping of a fiddle on deck, and the sound men dancing. Down below in the hold was the rhythmic clanking of the pumps, and faintly,the lowing of a cow.
“This is a strange place,”she said as she watched the surgeon put the checkers back in their cloth bag.
“You’ll get used to it,”he said.
She couldn’t keep her eyes open. The fiddle was soothing.“How long before we get toEngland?”she asked, settling herself more comfortably in the berth.
Lease laughed.“You probably plagued your parents on every trip you took, didn’t you? Long enough, Miss Whittier. Time foryou to learn to appreciate the HMSDissuade.Maybe even Captain Spark.”
“Never,”she said, her voice drowsy.“He is completely undemocratic and a dreadful beast.”She paused to let that sink in as her eyes closed.“And I am equally sure he can have nothing kind to say about me.”
The surgeon chuckled. He put the back of his hand to her forehead, nodded approvingly, and settled the sheet about her shoulders. He blew out the lamp.“He did mention that he wanted his bed back, and without you in it.”
“Dreadful man,”she repeated as she wiggled into a comfortable position and surrendered to sleep.
She felt human in the morning, for the first time since her rescue from the sea. Hannah sat up in the berth and pulled on the captain’s nightshirt, wincing only slightly as it came in contact with her tender shoulders. Her arms were beginning to itch and peel. She tugged idly at the skin on her forearm, marveling how it sheeted off and left a handsome tan behind.
Mama will be chagrined, she thought. Soon I will be browner than an Indian.She leagainst the bulkhead, holding her breath against the anticipated pain, and letting it out in relief when there was none. I could almost like this, she thought as she settled into the gentle rolling motion of the ship as it rose on each swell, then shimmied into a little spiral as it fell into thetroughof the wave. She knew instinctively there was a sure hand at the helm.
When Captain Spark knocked on the door from the great cabin, she felt decidedly charitable.“Come in, please,”she said.
Thecaptain, still instockingedfeet, stuck his head in.“I need a shirt,”he said, observing her.“Well, you are sitting up. Does this mean I will be getting my cabin back soon?”
“As soon as thee can find me another space, sir,”she replied.“And some clothes.”
“Done, Miss Whittier,”he replied as he opened his sea chest and rummaged about for another shirt.“I‘llput my first mate on it right away.”He found a shirt and closed the chest.“All we need to do is dispossess a midshipman and purloin ashirtand trousers from a small crew member. I trust you are not too particular.”He paused in front of her.“By God, you’re going to be peeling for a week, at least.”He touched the end of her nose.“I did that once, and looked about as silly as you do. At least there is no one here you have to impress. I’m afraid it would be quite impossible. Cheers, Miss Whittier.”
She blinked her eyes in surprise as he closed the door to the cabin.“What an odd man,”she said out loud. That was more words than he had said to her before. She was still marveling at his loquaciousness when his orderly entered with the eternal basin of gruel and coffee.
She wrinkled her nose at the coffee.“I do not know how anyone manages to drink this,”she said as the little man placed the tray on her lap.“Does thee boil it for hours?”
