Chapter 4
The rowboats had been prepared for dispatch after the captain and his first officers had made it to shore. All of the convicts were now crammed onto the decks of the ship, anxious to step onto solid land once more. But none were more anxious than Johanna Barker. She stood in the hot Australian sun, wiping the perspiration that stung her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. With a shift of her dress, she adjusted the material that clung to her wet skin and held her arms to her chest.
Through the crowd of officers, the girl could make out the face of Adrian. He stood by a section of male prisoners, rigid and ready for any sudden course of action. He noticed her stares and returned the gaze. His eyes held anger, detestation, and beneath it all…his eyes held longing. A longing that causing her to whip her head towards the ocean water that foamed beneath the ship's hull and away from his stares.
Her patience was wearing thin.
"All of yeh are to step back and allow the women and children into the boats first, my dear gents!" one of the commanding officers hollered with a motion of his gloved hand.
With a hidden smile of thankfulness, Johanna pushed her way through the crowds of women and stood at the front of her section. The male convicts were now being separated from the females and held back by the officers who were put in charge of them. Few questioned their authority. Those who did had their skulls smashed by a sniggering sentry.
"Miss, if you would kindly take my hand," a kindly male guard uttered as he held his palm towards Johanna. Gratefully, she slipped her hand in his and allowed him to lead her to the boat that was hanging on the side of the ship. The other women followed suit.
"Careful, now," he murmured as she lifted her foot and placed it into the rowboat. When she was seated, he placed a gentle kiss upon her hand and smiled at her. With a wink, he turned towards the others and showed them the same humane treatment, calling them "ladies" and assisting them into the small boats as well, leaving many to wonder how such a gentleman evaded their sights during a seven month journey.
It was not long before a good portion of women were placed into the rowboats and lowered onto clear waters. Johanna lifted her hand and let it slide over the water's surface, smiling at the coolness that licked her skin and gave her a small release from the boiling sun.
To her advantage, the kind officer had been placed in her boat and now began to paddle them towards the shore, less than a half of a mile away in distance. The man struck up a light conversation, speaking mostly of the colony that they were to be part of.
"You ladies are goin' to love it," he laughed. "Our beloved Botany Bay was established long ago by folks like you. It's a ripe beauty, it is."
"Where are we to be placed?" A small girl asked as she gazed at the officer.
"Well," he sighed, "I really can't say for sure, me dear. There's the factory where you women are made to do needle work and such. Let's see, there are the separate houses where you perform domestic services."
"Yes, but where will we be stayin'?"
"Our hard workin' men have constructed barracks for you women where you will be provided with lodgings," he informed them with a kind reassuring gleam in his eye.
The shore was rapidly approaching.
"I must say, it has been a true pleasure sailing with you all," the officer added with a light-hearted grin. "Enjoy our establishment." The smile on his face vanished. "And god be with you all," he said in a gravely.
A slight bump was felt the moment the rowboat hit the shore. Johanna gazed at the sand, the water, and slowly grasped a fistful of dirt and allowed it to slip through her fingers. With a giggle, she hopped from the boat and gazed around her in wonder, receiving some chuckles from the male officers at her amusing innocence.
They were all forced to wait for the other prisoners to exit the boats and stagger onto shore. Johanna had swaggered a few times due to the fact that she had not been on land for so long. Once all were on shore, a man in uniform stood before them all.
"Welcome, prisoners, to Australia! You all have endured a right hard trip, you have, but nevertheless, I expect greatness. Now, off with you all, to the showers!"
Some moaned their distaste while others clapped their joy.
The women studied their surroundings as they were led to their lodgings.
"All of you are to live at the factories," their lead guard declared. "You will work from sunrise to sunset and you are allowed off on Sundays. Your meals will be served within the barracks and you will be provided with clothing. Before we may allow you to sleep, however, we must strip you all and wash you down. The lot of you compare with death when it comes to the stench!"
"Oh, shut your arse, git!"One of the bolder women shouted.
The officer turned towards the crowd once more. "Speaking of which, any insubordinations will result in a good whippin'! So I suggest you keep yeh mouths shut!"
Johanna shuddered at the threat and obliged to any commands that were given her. She was taken to the showers and immediately told to undress, receiving curious glances from the officers enforcing the task at hand. Her old dress was left in a crumpled heap on the floor afterwards. She was washed down and had been searched for any weapons, causing Johanna to scoff at the fact that they felt a young girl, such as herself, could be possibly carrying a weapon with her after a long boat ride. It was preposterous.
"'Ere you are, pretty thing," a smug guard chortled as he handed the girl clothes. She was given a plain dress, like the ones she had seen in London, and told to put it on and to "be quick about it". She placed the scratchy material over her head and pulled it over her body as women around her did the same.
After she was dressed, the females were led to a room where shoes were piled in heaps. They were all commanded to find a pair of shoes that fit them within the minute or they would be forced to work barefooted. Johanna rushed forward, tripping over a pair of shoes, and tore through the piles, throwing shoes about and trying them on. She found one shoe that fit her just well and went on the hunt for another, grimacing as her time ran out. Finally, she found another that was a perfect fit, though it did not match the other. With a shrug of her shoulders, she placed the two on her feet and stood.
The day had begun to grow dark. The moment the sun had set, all the women were taken to the factory. It was a three story building, ominous as it stood isolated. The insides consisted of floors of working space and a few benches for sitting Johanna noticed as she was shoved inside. Only a few lamps provided a faint source of light in the rooms. There were no windows.
"Lie down and get some rest," they were ordered. "You'll need it." A few blankets were handed around the room. Johanna did not get one.
As she lay on the hard, dirty floor with her fellow voyagers and women who were in the factory before, conversations began.
"What you in here for?"
"Ha, don't suppose you been out of town 'ave yeh? Pathetic!"
"Goddamn English."
"Hello," a dark haired woman whispered as she inched towards Johanna. "You're one of the new ones, aren't you…you and the others that just came in?"
"Yes. We uh…just arrived from England," Johanna answered in a shaky voice.
"Oh, I used to live in London. Miss it very much, I do. I am Elaine, by the way."
A violent screaming erupted from a girl on the opposite side of Johanna. As everyone jumped to their feet to investigate the reasons for her terror, they soon saw that she knelt over a dead child. A small thing with soft black hair, but her skin was as pale as moonlight.
"My baby…God in Heaven, not my sweet li'l Abigail," she shouted to the ceiling of the room. Women pushed back against the wall as a guard entered through the door. Johanna nearly tripped over a working bench during her retreat.
"Wot's with all the screamin'?" the guard demanded as he stepped towards the shrieking female.
"My child…my child," she moaned with a point of her finger towards the crumpled body of her girl.
"Dead, sir," someone pointed out.
The guard scowled. "Leave the damn child 'ere and we'll bury 'er tomorrow! If I hear another peep from you, it'll be a lashin'!" He departed with a slam of the door.
The woman sunk to her knees and placed her face in her hands, whimpering, sobbing. A few glances of sympathy were sent towards her, but they did not last long. Instead, everyone shifted away from the mourning mother and conversed in whispers.
How could people be so utterly cruel? Was hatred all that the world consisted of?
"You better get some rest," Rosemary instructed Johanna as she placed herself next to Elaine. "I hear that we all are going to need it."
Elaine turned towards Rosemary and sent her enlarged stomach a small smile. "You are with child?"
"Yes, the baby ought to be here within a few weeks."
"Oh…you should consider finding yourself a husband…"
Johanna turned from her expecting friend and Elaine as they spoke of the miracles of childbirth and whatnot. With a deep frown, she lay her head on the wooden flooring and stared at the walls until her eyes went heavy and the words around her were a simple blur of jumbled sounds. The shadows on the walls soon became one, engulfing her in a vast darkness that shielded her from all other sights.
This darkness was her home…
After what seemed like seconds had passed, her darkness was shattered by the light of day that came shining through an opened door. Women stood and moaned as their guards walked in and smiled at their displeasure.
"All you new arrivals are to gather the laundry for the men while the rest of you are to go to your needles," a man with a scar along his right cheek instructed.
His fellow officer turned towards the man who had just spoken. "Don't you think it's unwise to send the women into the men's area? It could get messy…"
The scarred man waved off his concerns. "I believe the convicts know the consequences. The new arrivals shall go to the men as planned."
The thought of the male convicts alone with her was enough to send the girl into hysterics, yet she miraculously kept her posture and merely bit back the fear that ate at her very strength.
"Breakfast will be served at eight o'clock."
"Breakfast, after a trip of complete starvation…and you are servin' breakfast? You're a bloody marvel, sir. Full o' shit!" a bold girl laughed.
Slowly, the guard made his way towards the outspoken woman. He took her thin arm in his hand and began to drag her across the room. "That'll be enough out of you, whore," he spat as she began to screech. "I think 20 lashes should do the trick, don't you?" Her screams turned to horrendous sobs as she was carted through the door and out of sight. Afterwards, the women were eager to get to work.
Stumbling out into the blinding sunlight, Johanna walked with her fellow inmates and began to enter the areas where the men worked. They received wolf-whistles and rude sexual comments as they began to collect clothes from the men that needed washing.
"I'm sure this won't be the last time that I take off my shirt for you, love," a prisoner grinned as he handed Johanna his shirt. He lifted his shovel and continued to work. She looked away in repulsion and continued to collect clothing in a large basket.
"Collect from the barracks yonder," she was instructed as a hand pointed to a building where only a few men were beginning to pile out. The rest, she assumed, were inside.
Breathing deeply, she trod towards the barracks and approached the front of the building. A red haired man stood guard and hissed, "Just grab every piece of clothing they give yeh and get out."
With a nod of her head to hide her scowl, she entered the barracks. There were bunks everywhere and men all around were undressing, placing their boots on, and eyeing the girl with interest.
She advanced inward and gazed around, studied by all. The room had grown quiet and the movements of all had either slowed or stopped. She received a few cap removals as she stood in the entrance. The sun sent rays onto the floor and painted the room with its glorious shine. She stood among the gold, receiving gazes of wonder.
"An angel," a fragile old man gasped as he clasped his hands.
"'Urry it up," the same guard shrieked as he poked his head in and disappeared once more, sending Johanna out of her frozen stance and the men out of their trances. She held the basket out to all, an indication that they should place their clothes inside. A few offered her a smile as they placed their laundry into her basket. Others, however, were not as gentle. Some stroked her hair and cupped her cheek, laughing when she shrugged them away.
"Oh, leave 'er alone!"
One of the men went as far as to place a hand on the curve of her back. She let out a small scream and fell backwards, crashing into the chest of one of the males. Hands steadied her from falling once more and helped her steady herself. She looked towards the owner of the hands, tears in her eyes.
"I am so sorry," she began, but stopped short as she studied the man whom she had just bumped into.
The man was pale, deathly pale, and his eyes were nothing but holes of black darkness. He wore trousers and a jacket, leaving the girl only to guess how hot he must have been beneath all of the material. A white streak from stress traveled through his wild black hair, creating an odd contrast. He held comparison to death itself. Johanna could only imagine the horrors he must have endured while in captivity as his gaze caused her breathing to stop and to place a hand to her lips in shock.
"I am…sorry," she whispered, yet again, behind her fingers, making her words muffled.
He seemed to be lost in thought as he studied her, summoning one word to his lips. "Lucy?" he whispered softly as his eyes lightened. He held a hand out towards her, a sudden hope brightening his face.
"What? No, my name is not Lucy, sir. Once again, I-I apologize for…er…crashing into you like that…if you have any laundry?" she stammered as she tore her eyes from the man. He withdrew his hand and let his gaze fall to the floor. He seemed crestfallen for only a minute before the heartbreaking look in his eyes turned to ice.
"No, just…be more careful," he muttered as he turned from her and walked out of the door and past the officer outside to begin his work. Johanna stared after him, transfixed by the man. He offered a backward glance, deep in thought, until he whirled around and continued to walk forth in the sun.
"Dear old Ben's losin' his mind," she heard one of his inmates murmur in a somber voice.
Forgetting the other men's laundry, she followed him out and gawked at his fading figure. The convict had been taken to an open area and begun to work on a building that was being constructed. The other men in his barracks exited and strut past Johanna. Some made their way to the area in which the mysterious man was working while others went in opposite directions to perform a variety of different tasks.
The blonde girl stood in a trance, barely able to move until the booming voice of an officer sent her running across the yard where men worked and back to the "safety" of the factories.
As she entered the building, she noticed the girl who had cursed at the officer. She lay on the floor, her back bare with strips of bloody flesh. She had been whipped. A few others tended to her injuries as the prone woman silently wept and winced at the wet cloth that was pressed upon her torn flesh. The mother who had lost her child was sobbing in the corner. The body of the dead child had been taken.
Stepping towards an area of washtubs, Johanna dumped the men's clothes into a tub filled with water and coughed at the disgusting smell that came from the material.
"Men, they stink to high heavens," a fellow laundry woman chuckled bitterly. "Enjoy it, love."
The clothes that she had collected turned to water a murky brown. It was enough to make the child sick. She ran soap over the shirts and trousers, scrubbing until her fingers began to hurt. When she had finished, she wrung the water out, fascinated with the way she was able to make her hands work after a lifetime of nothingness.
All thoughts of the disgust from the clothes faded away as Johanna Barker thought of the agonized man. His eyes…could one be as tortured as he was? It was nearly unbearable to think on the matter. All that was left was the image of his face in her mind, strikingly entrancing for some odd reason. As she scrubbed at the men's clothing, she could only summon up the name that he had been called by his fellow convict. Benjamin.
She had to see him again! She needed to thank him properly!
With a smile to herself, Johanna concluded that she would express her gratitude towards the man when she was permitted to return the laundry to his barrack.
I apologize if this chapter is a bit shorter than anticipated, but hopefully the appearance of our favorite barber/ex-con will make up for everything! Please review!