Chapter – A little vacation time
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Jim moved across the galley, squinting in the dim light of the burning wall scones. Smells of the roasted pork were everywhere, the tables still covered with plates piled high with old bones and chewed gristle. A few on the younger sailors were helping Charley by collecting dirty dishes and wiping tables. Jim moved between the men and sat down next to Artemus on the bench in a quiet corner of the large room. He grinned as his friend turned to him, "very clever of you to bring food for three to the Captain's quarters this evening."
Artie shrugged, "I know how long winded you get when you are in important meetings with our superior officers. And you almost missed dinner once already today so I thought you might as well eat with the Captain." His dark eyes scanned the room, making sure no one was close enough to hear them. He lowered his voice, "so what happened? What did he say?"
Jim ran the tip of his right index finger over the rough wooden table, staring down as if trying to remember. "Oh, the Captain sends his compliments for the pork roast of course…"
"Ya, ya," Artie growled, "of course, but what did he say about us? Didn't you ask about getting off this ship? Or does he consider us too valuable now to lose?"
Jim nodded slowly, "I think he does find us too valuable to lose. He hinted that someone is leaving this ship soon though but I think it's going to be Holliday. The guy is a pain in the ass but I don't want to see him tossed overboard or left behind on an island." He let out a long sigh and looked at Artemus, "he said we are stopping at another island in a few days. A large island with sugar plantations where ships frequently resupply and trade goods. It was the type of place I was waiting for; the place that would be the best to escape onto. However he explained to me that the Governor of the island, a guy named Scott, is equipped with tracking hounds and hunters who are experts at finding," he snickered, thinking back, "finding deserters. And the punishments sounded harsh. Even if we avoided the trackers, we would have to survive with the islanders until a friendly ship arrived, which could take months. I think we had better think of something else."
Artie watched the changing emotions running over his partner's face, from anger, to disappointment, and then almost despair. "Something will happen eventually," he said quietly, "it always does. We just need to stick together and be ready."
"Ya," Jim said, staring at the table top without really seeing it. "How long has it been now?" His voice was so low Artemus almost didn't hear him.
"Three months," Artie said quietly, moving his forearms onto the table, "and ten days." He leaned over and placed his forehead onto his crossed wrists. "And you know what Richmond does when it's over three months," his said, his voice muffled by his arms, "and that's when agents are on a case."
"I know," Jim whispered, "we must have just disappeared. But our families will understand. It's not the first time my mother will have a message from the government about me missing in action. And your family will barely pause in their show business work to worry about you. But I had hoped to be back before it happened." He voice took on an edge, "Richmond must be looking for us. He knew we were working the docks and he would have contacted our navy, which should then contact the British and French navy too. Maybe when we get to this big trade island, someone will be waiting to pick us up."
Artie turned his head to peek an eye out at Jim, "ya, maybe Richmond will be standing on the dock waving to us." He lowered his head back to his hands.
"This is still temporary," Jim said, smacking Artie's back, "don't get too depressed. At least the Captain knows a little more about us. I told him we work for the Federal government and know the President personally."
Artie pushed himself back to a sitting position, curiosity suddenly returning. "You told him we know President Grant? And what did he say to your bragging and name dropping? Did he believe you?"
Jim grinned, "I'm not sure if he really believed me but he started complaining about all the business taxes he has to pay when he returns with the whale oil. I think he wants us to speak to Grant about reducing his tax burden. So, you see," he laughed, "he has to bring us back to America eventually."
"That's ridiculous," Artie laughed. "But if that's what it takes, we can look into the business tax laws. We just need to find a really large whale so we have enough oil to fill those damn flasks up!"
Jim nodded in agreement and the pair fell silent as their shipmates hurried over, their hands red and wet from washing with the strong lye soap. Rowdy was leading the way, his face eager with some new bit of ship news or idea, with Blaine and young Charley close at his heels. They dropped onto the benches and quickly surrounded the two agents.
"Isn't it great to be all back on board again," Rowdy burst out. "And all the food we have now. I have never eaten so well on board this ship before. You sure know how to cook, Artemus!" The other young sailors chimed in from across the room as they worked, with hearty yells of agreement. Artie's face turned red and Jim gave him a shove, laughing with the others.
"And did you tell Jim about how you escaped the ship when I came back?" Rowdy leaned over to see Jim, "luckily he was near the railing on the deck when I arrived. If I had to send men to get him from the galley, Stone would have stopped him from leaving the ship to help rescue you."
Artie's dark eyes hardened as his teeth clamped together. "No, he wouldn't have," he growled. Jim reached up to squeeze his friend's shoulder, knowing Artie would have not been prevented from coming after him.
Rowdy, not noticing their exchange, continued his story, "and did you hear how Artie dove off the railing way down into the waves? Right where all the sharks were feeding too," he exclaimed, making diving motions with his hands.
"No," Jim snapped, obviously not happy to hear that part of the story, "I hadn't heard that. Seems like someone should have stayed on board after all, no matter what happened." He pulled Artie closer with a handful of wore yellow shirt.
"Oh, right," Artie said, mocking his friend's seriousness. "And have you miss dinner? Or have you be dinner for that tribe?" He shoved Jim back, knocking him sideways on the bench. "Quit getting caught and I will quit having to come after you!"
Jim and the others all burst out laughing and Artie finally relaxed, joining them. He turned to the young man and wiggled his eyebrows, "if you knew all the tough spots I have had to rescue this guy from…"
"Tell tell!" Charley shouted with excitement. He turned to Rowdy, "Artemus tell me the best stories while we work in the galley!"
Jim snorted, "some of them might even be true." He sat, enjoying watching their young friends as Artie described some of their past cases.
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Next morning…
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Jim let out a long sigh as he watched the distant image float just within sight. "That's a huge island. Does no one see it but me?" He turned to Artie who was squinting into the fog. "You see it, don't you? This is getting embarrassing. I swear I am stuck on a ship with a bunch of blind people."
"Better than a ship of fools," Artie laughed, rubbing a hand to his eyes, "damned if I can see it." They both turned to look up the mast at Wolvertin in the crow's nest. Artie snapped, "he should be able to see over the fog if he would just turn around!" The man was barely visible at his post on the top of the main mast; slumped as if in sleep, as usual.
Jim caught Rowdy's eye down the deck and pointed toward the distant island, "Its right there. A huge island. Is that the one we are looking for?" He laughed as Rowdy and a slew of other men rushed the railing, all straining to look through the fog. "Just wait for the fog to part and you'll see it." As if on cue a gust of wind suddenly blew past, lifting the fog and filling the limp sails.
"Land Ho!" Wolvertin called out from the crow's nest. The sentry was now alert and pointing to the island. He looked down from his perch and yelled the alarm again.
"You're too late!" Rowdy shook his fist at the sailor far above him. "West saw it first! Again! And the rum goes to him this day!"
"Oh, let him have it," Jim chuckled. "Maybe it will help his vision to clear."
Rowdy came to stand near him, "doesn't matter anyway," he grinned, "they will be rum enough for all of us by tonight. I have been to this island. There are fires on the beach at night where the meat is roasted. And women!" He hopped up and down with excitement. "You've never seen women like they have here!"
"Are they different?" Jim turned a twinkling blue eye to Artie as his partner laughed. "I have seen a lot of women in my time and they generally all look the same. It's usually a difference in how friendly they are."
"Oh, these are very friendly," Rowdy grinned, leaning over to wink, "if you know what I mean." He turned to see the island again, as the ship approached quickly. "Look there, already they come to greet us!"
The rest of the crew rushed to the railing, leaving their posts, to wave and yell like madmen. Jim and Artie watched as scores of large canoes, with odd wooden side rails reaching across the water, approached the ship. Dozens of oars flashed in the sunlight and many hands waved up at them. As the canoes came alongside the ship it was obvious that the hot temperatures made it more comfortable for men and women to go without clothing, except for modest strips of cloth around the waist.
"I have never seen women dressed like that before," Jim whispered to Artie. "You?" Artie just shook his head, his eyes almost popping out of his face. "You know, after that last island fiasco, I wasn't sure I even wanted to get off the ship but I think I will after all." He waved down to a canoe full of scantily clad women with long dark hair. Round, smiling faces turned up to him and the girls all waved back. "Yes, I think I will like this island just fine."
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That evening…
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Artemus sat in the sand watching the bon fire at his feet. Two curvaceous girls with long dark hair each held onto one of his arms. One was leaning against his bare shoulder, nibbling his ear, and the other was running her fingers through his dark curls, pushing his hair back from his forehead.
"Hey, partner," Jim called out from his right, a few feet away. "I think we should stay here after all. Forget what I said earlier." He leaned over to kiss the cheek of a barely dressed girl who was siting close to him, her arms around his waist. The girl on the other side was holding a small hollowed-out coconut hull full of rum. He turned to her, sipping the rum as she held the rude cup to his lips.
"Well I'm not sure about forever," Artie laughed, "but definitely for a few days."
Suddenly a man's scream wrenched though the air. The two agents, and their crew mates around them, all turned in the same direction. A small knot of men were pushing and pulling a man along the beach from the water toward the dirt roadway which lead to distant buildings at the edge of the jungle.
"Holliday," Jim breathed. "I guess he's staying. I wanted to be able to talk to him at some point. Maybe we can find him tonight, after dark."
"What for," Artie asked quietly, "he wouldn't pay any attention to any advice you might give him now any more than before."
"Oh, I don't know," Jim snickered, "He might be taking things a little more seriously now." He turned to look at Artemus, "I wanted to convince him to live here and survive. I am hoping to someday send a ship to rescue him, after we rescue ourselves, of course." The girl on his right put the rum back to his lips, scolding him in some unknown language, while the other girl pushed against his side, kissing his neck. "But I don't think I need rescuing tonight."
Artie laughed as he returned his attention to the girls with him. Nearby Rowdy and Blaine were also with local girls. Charley was busy with long metal rods of skewered meat, poking them into the coals and turning them. Unseen, in the shadows, local men stood as if on guard, making a ring around the sailors and the women.
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Next morning…
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Jim awoke as the sun rose over the beach. He lay still for a long time, feeling the warm bodies of the two girls on either side of him. He could hear his partner snoring nearby. The sound of the waves was always present as a distant background noise but more voices drifted closer. His body stiffened, always ready for a fight, as men's voices approached. He opened his eyes and blinked, clearing his vision, trying not to move and draw attention to himself. He could just see men moving around the circle of sleeping sailors and women, as the center of the circle glowed with coals, still hot from the bon fire.
"What's happening?" Artie whispered. He rolled onto his side to face Jim, yawning, his dark eyes opening sleepily. His movements still simulated sleep as he became more alert. "Are they serving breakfast?"
"I'm not sure," Jim said softly. A girl shifted next to him, muttering in her sleep. He absently rubbed a hand over her back. "Men have been watching us since we arrived. Did you notice them last night? They stood just in the shadows all during the food and drinking after. I was half expecting to end up with Holliday at some point."
"I was watching them," Artie said, "I thought maybe they were related to the women to make sure no one was injured. I hadn't thought about being kidnapped again while I am already kidnapped." He watched as men walked behind Jim and himself, circling and talking quietly to themselves. The men seemed to be looking for someone as they paused to look at each man. "Maybe they are looking for workers for their sugar plantations."
"Then why don't they grab us," Jim muttered. "Half drunk and sound asleep would have been the time to do it. Little late now," he growled, as his shipmates were sitting up and rubbing their faces, yawning and beginning to move around.
"Maybe we don't look like good workers," Artie said. He pushed himself into a sitting position as the guards passed them by. "It would help if I could just understand their language. If I stayed here long enough, I could probably figure it out. It seems to be a mix of French and Spanish with other sounds thrown in."
"You know, I am really disappointed in you," Jim said, giving his partner a quick wink. "Knowing what the locals are saying is often more useful than the slick talk of the town leaders." He slowly sat up and watched the others nearby. Blaine was moaning and holding his head. Rowdy was sitting next to him looking dazed. "I think our young friends are not used to that much alcohol," he chuckled. He climbed to his feet and began brushing sand off the skin of his arms and chest. "I know I'm starving. If I am not being dragged off to the sugar cane fields, I want breakfast."
"Well there's the boss," Artie said, nodding to Stone who was quickly approaching their group. "I am sure we will be given our orders shortly." He slowly moved to his feet and stretched his back. He moved to Jim's side as they walked closer to their young friends. Keeping close together had become a habit now for all of them for self-preservation. "How are you two doing? I think you'll feel better if you move around." He leaned over and grabbed Rowdy's elbow, pulling him to his feet, as Jim did the same with Blaine. "Just move slowly."
Blaine moaned again and leaned heavily against Jim's side. "What happened?"
Jim grinned and wrapped a supporting arm around the young man. "You had a party and now are feeling the after effects. You'll get used to it."
"Let that be a lesson to you, young man," Artie joked, "women and alcohol are a dangerous mix. We really shouldn't repeat this type of behavior." Rowdy hiccuped and stood, swaying on unsteady feet. His eyes blinked as if he couldn't focus.
Jim laughed, poking a finger into Artie's shoulder, "You should talk. I didn't see you complaining last night," he said, "and I bet you weren't thinking about Christian either. You better keep last night a secret."
"All of this should be kept a secret," Artie said, glaring at his partner. "Besides, no one back home would believe any of this anyway. Richmond just thinks we're crazy and that we make up wild stories. Some days I don't know why I bother to write out reports."
"You won't need to write any of this down," Jim sighed, "unless you write your memoirs when you're old and grey; if we live that long, of course." He looked around, his eyes watching the others. Some of the girls were also just waking up while others were curled on their sides, sound asleep. The men who were awake were moving more quickly now that the First Mate was near them. "Everyone else seems ok, but I don't see Charley…"
Artie, alarmed at the missing boy, immediately began looking as far as he could see. "I hope he is just off cooking somewhere nearby." Before they could discuss further, Stone was in the circle of people by the fire shouting orders. Men groaned at the loud voice and staggered slowly into a line. Artie instinctively moved to stand next to Jim as Blaine and Rowdy stayed close.
Stone turned on the group of men in line. He paced with his hands on his hops glaring at them, his face purple with anger, as usual. He took a deep breath and bellowed, "If you have finished enjoying yourself on the Captain's time, the party is now over! You will have no more alcohol and no more women! It ends now! You will march to the sugar cane fields and work this day. Real work! No more relaxing on a ship!" He paced as he talked, glaring at each man as he passed.
Jim and Artie exchanged a glance while Stone's back was to them. "Fields?" Jim mouthed silently. Artie shrugged as Stone turned again. "Charley has cooked a quick breakfast of biscuits. You will take two as you walk past the table and continue walking until you are told to stop. Water will be provided when you arrive at the fields." The First mate stepped back and took a deep breath. "MARCH!"
The group moved forward, slowly, many on wobbly legs with feet dragging in the soft sand. As they stepped onto a road of packed dirt and broken shells, the pace increased, and they moved between small buildings down narrow streets. Eventually winding out of the town area, they suddenly approached a long wooded table with Charley standing behind it. The surface was covered with biscuits. Men grabbed at them as they walked past. Jim and Artie each grabbed their breakfast and grinned at Charley, as the young boy stood importantly behind his table of food.
The group moved further down the road, past fields of tobacco leaves. Jim and Artie ate as they walked, helping other men move, while keeping an eye on the guards. All the local men seemed armed with long knives attached to belts around the waist. Most glared at them silently but a few shook their fists and shouted in the unknown language. Jim glanced at his partner during one barrage of shouting and Artie just grinned and shrugged.
"I am guessing he is saying, 'I hate you. I hope you die a horrible death!' But I am just guessing," Artie said, nodding toward one guard who was walking alongside the group, shaking a long knife at them.
Jim let out a long sigh, "can I say I miss the ship?" Artie smacked him on the back as they approached a new field. As far as the eye could see, tall stalks appeared everywhere, on either side of the road. Dozens of men were busy swinging the long knives at tall plants. Other men were gathering the long stalks and stacking them in piles along the road. Pieces were strewn everywhere. Jim knelt quickly, picking up a short section. The sailors were suddenly stopped and lined up along the edge of the road as Stone moved back out of the way.
Jim peered down at the section of thick, woody stem. The center was light colored while the outside was a deep green. "Looks like bamboo but it isn't hollow," he said quietly, showing Artie. "At least it isn't difficult to cut. More like large grass. Must be sugar cane."
"Great," Artie whispered, "yet another useless skill to learn; harvesting sugar cane. I wonder if they are so shorthanded for field workers that they make all ship crews do this."
"Maybe while the ships are being restocked?" Jim shrugged, "I guess they don't need all of us to carry crates."
They quieted as a man approached, hands on hips, to glare down at them. The man was dressed like the guards but had a golden star emblem attached to his shirt and he was much less dirty than his fellow workers.
"I am called Zane!" He shouted, glaring at each man. "You have been given to me for the day to work the sugar cane fields while your ship is refitted and supplied. You will be given water now and more will be provided later, with food." He smiled, showing teeth that had been filed into sharp points. "We are not barbarians. We will reward you well for your good work." He nodded toward another guard standing nearby. These men were also dressed in clean uniforms with the golden star emblem. "These men will guard you to make sure you are not injured in your work. You will be given a machete to cut the canes with. If you attempt to cut a guard or a fellow worker, you will be shot."
The guard unslung a long rifle and held it out to the sailors as if to show them it was real. Jim studied the rifle curiously as Zane continued. "We are short workers on this island and all who visit are given rewards for work. Last night was a reward for coming. If you work well, you will have more food, rum, and women. If you do not work well, you will not be rewarded." He smiled again. "Am I making myself clear?"
"I knew there were strings attached to last night," Artie whispered, "nothing is ever free."
Jim cut a glare at him sideways, "that would explain why they are short-handed. But I'm glad we don't have Holliday with us. He'd get us all killed." He squinted into the bright morning light, "I bet he's out here already though. Hope he's cooperating for a change."
The large group of sailors grumbled and but nodded in agreement as many nervously looked at the guards with the rifles. More armed guards were in the distance. It seemed to be very well organized.
"Take a machete and move to the fields!" Zane stepped back as the guards approached. Each man was handed a long knife and began following the leader to a field.
Jim swung the knife as walked, chopping the end off the bit of cane he carried, testing the blade's edge. The knife easily passed through the cane. "Sharp," he said quietly. "Very sharp." He stole a quick glance over his shoulder at his friend, "and those rifles are old muskets. If they would even shoot in this damp air, they would be slow to reload."
"You thinking about something?" Artie breathed, his eyes darting to the guards nearby. He swung his machete, experimenting with the balance of blade to handle.
"I'm always thinking about something," Jim said quietly. The approached the tall canes and the guards stepped farther back, giving the men room to swing the machetes. "I just haven't decided yet. But I'll make sure you're the first to know." He dropped the piece of cane and swung at the tall stalks in front of him. The blade cut through them like butter, felling many pieces at the same time. He paused to look at the blade. "Very sharp indeed."
tbc
