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To Suffer a Sea Change
Part 1
The captain shook Adam's hand after paying Adam his shares and asked him if he was certain that he wanted to leave and not sign on for another trip. They were heading for Japan next and their pull would be silks, spices, pearls and rich perfumes and maybe a few geisha and Adam was the best lieutenant he had come across in years. Was he sure he wouldn't stay on? Adam had laughed; it did sound tempting, he said, but he wanted to return to Nevada where his family was-that is, once he got his land legs back. So Adam and his captain shook hands and Adam left after tucking his money safely away; he was familiar with port cities, especially San Francisco and knew that sailors were always in danger of being robbed or shanghaied, sometimes both. Both he and his captain had enriched their crew with men, who once they awoke from being drugged, found themselves as sailors far out to sea.
Adam strolled through the streets and drew no particular attention in his flared pants, wool pea coat and his woven, blue watch cap. He had grown a trim beard that was streaked with gray and although the watch cap disguised most of it, his hair was gray around the temples with strands of silver running through the rest. The sea air and the sun had etched deeper wrinkles on his face and he looked at least ten years older that his 40. But he still had the looseness about his hips when he walked and although he often had bad days with his back due to the beating, most days were good and when they weren't, he had a bottle of a liquid picked up in a foreign port, that once rubbed on the muscles, served to warm and loosen them and in that way, Adam found relief from the seizing of his back.
Adam looked around as he walked, observing dark doorways and looks from others and judging which men might be dangerous; San Francisco had grown so much in five years and he began wondering what changes had taken place in Virginia City and how his family had changed; the thought made him anxious. Over the past five years, Adam had written letters home making his travels sound exciting and fresh to keep his father from worrying overmuch but Adam rarely received any letters-not because his family didn't write, but although he informed them where he would next pull into port, the captain's plans often changed. It was a merchant ship and headed where the captain's greed led them so they never reached some usual ports but ended up elsewhere. But somehow, the captain always made it profitable for all who signed on and Adam quickly took on higher and higher shares due to his "usefulness." The captain had once told Adam that he reminded him of himself-a man with no sentimental conscience to prevent him from doing what had to be done, what needed to be done. And Adam said that it was because he had lost his soul years before and it was gone for good. The captain had said it was profitable to be arm in arm with Beelzebub himself and Adam had laughed; he knew of what the captain spoke-vengeance is mine, saith the devil.
A few blocks before Adam reached the uptown district of San Francisco, a woman, a heavily painted woman at that, approached him. She smiled although she would have been more attractive had she not flashed a smile that revealed her bad teeth, but the rest of her was still firm and curvy. She walked over to Adam and offered him a pleasant time for little money-anything he wanted she would do, but he just laughed and declined and because he was glad to be on terra firma again, he dug a silver dollar out of his pocket and flipped it through the air to her.
"Thanks, cap'n," she said, catching it. "Ya must really be glad ta be home." She slipped the coin into her cleavage.
"You have no idea," Adam said, "no idea." And he went further into the city until he found a decent hotel and took a room. The desk clerk looked at him suspiciously and Adam guessed that sailors were not their usual clientele. The man even said to Adam, "We run a quiet, decent hotel here; no drunkenness or whores will be tolerated."
"Glad to know that," Adam said giving the clerk a smug smile. He put down the fountain pen and picked up the key the clerk had put on the counter. "And send up some dinner-I've worked up quite an appetite-steak, if you have it." Then he smiled and looking at the number on the key tag, dragged his weary body and his duffel up the stairs.