Chapter Ten: Cricket
By early evening, our brief settlements on the island were prepared, and on the shore, but not too close to the water because of the tide, sat a few scattered tents and fires. Several of the sailors would wind up sleeping outside, and a third of the crew would be on the ship monitoring it through the night and making sure we did not get attacked at some unsightly hour.
Thankfully, Roland, Dobbin, Bennie and me were all given the wonderful positions on the island and had the night completely to ourselves. Griffith, after Captain Carlisle found him wooing Consuela instead of asking her what was proper for them to trade, was stationed on the ship and all of us were quite relieved with Griffith's departure.
The fire cracked and spit as us lads sat around it on dead logs we found around the jungle. I sat next to Roland on one log. On Roland's other side sat Dobbin, and on a separate log sat Bennett, all by his onesies. I wanted to sit next to him, but Roland would surely think I was in alliance with him (which I was), but then that would have led to him believing I was in alliance with Griffith as well.
We were silent around the dancing fire, most of us staring at its twirling flames as it sent tiny glowing sparks towards our feet. Mine were still bare because I refused to put on my boots and have my feet reek with sweat again, and I became aware of my rather dirty toenails and calloused soles. So much for being a lady.
Dobbin had recovered somewhat from my confession, but he still could not look at me normally. I took it that it was because I convinced him I was a lad with all my cursing, rebelling and loud-mouthed persona. Not in a million years would he have thought a woman would do such a thing.
Andre didn't know who I really was, but I was sure I'd tell him someday. Bennie too, but he had to prove he was truly trustworthy before I told him anything. His camaraderie with Griffith made it nearly impossible for me to reveal any secret of mine to him, but he knew Jack Barlow was a big liar. And he'd continue to discover my lies until we reached a point were I'd be compelled to tell him the truth.
"Any of ye got any stories to tell?" I asked glumly, extremely bored with our strange silence. Even Roland wasn't saying much and that was even stranger.
I looked from face to face. Dobbin wasn't even looking at me (for obvious reasons) and Bennie looked awkwardly away. Wonderful. I jabbed Roland in the ribs. "You tell a story, brother."
"Why don't you?" retorted the boy.
"Oh, I told all o' 'em me stories already. 'Tis your turn, laddie," I insisted, slapping his back with unnecessary aggressiveness.
"Fine," he grumbled, leaning forward and resting his elbow on his knee as he sought for a story to entertain his mates with.
"Have I told ye all about Astrid?" he asked. My eyes grew wide and I stepped on his foot, though not so hard as to be caught. I forced him to tell a story and he got me back by deciding to tell his friends a story about me.
"No," said Bennett. "Who is she?" I glanced over at Dobbin and his eyes reflected a dumb gaze at me.
"Astrid is my adopted sister," resumed Roland, disregarding Dobbin's speechless visage and my hidden irritation. "She's only a few months older than me, but certainly not as smart."
I twitched inside, but I reluctantly agreed to myself that I was indeed not very smart compared to Roland. "She is about, hmm… well, she stands a little above my shoulder, has brown curly hair and big blue eyes. And I have to admit, she is a lovely young woman. But, do not let her looks fool you."
"Got that right," I snorted.
"Who's telling the story, Jack?" said Roland, irritably. "Me. So let me finish."
"Fine, fine. Go on and tell these lads about your one hell of a nice-looking sister." Roland shook his head and continued on, his once immobile hands now enthusiastically gesticulating.
He went on telling them the story of how I ruined my own fifteenth birthday and disgraced my whole family. And all the while, I was burning madly inside and I hoped that I was not burning red about the face.
"Griffith was half-drunk as well," continued Roland, "but Astrid, she was mad with the alcohol and acted no better than a whore!" Shut up, Roland. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
"Griffith has failed to tell me about anything like that," said Bennett, surprised himself. "No wonder he already knew you. Because of your sister."
"Oh, I am sure he'd love to see Astrid again, but she did give him a few punches to the face before she got drunk that night. He was picking on her suitor, Adam Locke, and she knocked him because of it, well, actually I did. But she joined in on the fight afterwards."
"Truly a fine lady, I suppose," said Bennett, cracking a naughty grin. And I always thought you were a good boy, Bennett..
"The finest," replied Roland with the same taunting mockery. "Funny little Astrid. She is promised though, to her lieutenant. Many a lad was disappointed at that."
"That's hard to believe," said Bennett. I shrank at the comment. If I ever told him I was a girl, he'd find me a disgrace. "Drunk at her own birthday and spooned with Griffith." He shook his head.
"People do stupid things when they're drunk, Bennie," I intruded, hopelessly putting out a good word for my horrible self.
"She's an idiot to get drunk from the beginning, Jack, especially for a woman. I'm not as easily seduced by a woman's physical features as you are."
"Tell that to Griffith," I murmured irately before getting up and abandoning their unpleasant company for the congenial company of the sea.
I sat on the wet sand and dipped my feet in the waves as they broke on the beach, looking up at the moon that I always looked for whenever I felt misplaced.
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It was mid afternoon of the next day. I sat on a rock, watching the lads play what Bennett had called, 'cricket.' It was a strange game indeed, or at least it was to me. Roland somehow knew the rules and was avidly playing amongst the other lads. How he knew the game, I did not know and I did not want to know. I had stolen some money of his that morning to trade with the natives for food, and he was still very peeved at me for taking it.
Bennett was holding what seemed to be a wide stick of some sort, and behind him was what I would later discover as a 'wicket.' The wicket consisted of two wooden crosspieces, which Roland informed me were called 'bails,' and the bails rested on two wooden stumps. Their significance in an already very confusing game was not apparent to me yet, and I just watched Bennett eagerly wait for the bowler to conduct an overarm throw to him.
The bowler took a few steps forward, thrust the ball away without bending his arm, and with a sharp 'whack' Bennett sent the ball flying up in the air, in which, during that time, he ran to exchange places with the other batsman. I had no idea of the reasons behind it all, but I did do my best to sit and watch and smile and cheer whenever a team scored. There was no real desire for me to join in on the game, but apparently, my restless position on the rock must have caused Bennett to think otherwise.
"Join us, Jack!" he beckoned, excitedly walking towards me. Shaking my head and stepping back from him, I kindly declined his offer.
"No," I said. "Don't know how to play."
"I'll teach you. It's not hard. You'll understand it quickly," he replied, panting for he had just interrupted the game by deciding to include me in it.
"I assure you, Mister Bennett, I don't want to play. I'm quite content with watching."
"Not the way I saw it," he said smugly, grinning at me. I began to despise his adamancy but countered his persistence with my own.
"Maybe you interpreted incorrectly," I said. "Because I do not want to play this 'cricket' game of yours."
"One inning," he pressed. "Just one. I won't badger you any further. We need an extra man."
"Then get Griffith," I said curtly, treading away.
"Oh, come on, Jack!" he urged, following after me. I crossed my arms over my chest and continued to walk away. My mind was not set on participating in the game with the other lads, despite how welcoming it would make me feel. And my different view of 'fun' and Bennett's continued to collide in a loud conversation full of yells, pleas and finally, a resolution.
I looked up at him questioningly, biting my bottom lip as I thought about his offer. I had done a lot more thinking now that I spent every moment of my life on the ship amongst men. My womanly innocence would not serve as my downfall and every opportunity that passed me by, I confronted, analyzed and discarded.
Bennett had a pleading look in his blue eyes, and his lips were curved into a strangely captivating smile. Sighing and kicking at the ground, I finally made my decision. "Once," I said strictly. "And it shall be my last until I say otherwise."
He turned around and gave a leap of joy. I giggled inside at his boyish activity. He seemed so easy to know and befriend, like a toy doll a child was given. Once they met, they were inseparable. Bennett was indeed very charismatic and benevolent and it was because of those characteristics about him that I decided to comply with his silly wish.
"Can you inform me of the rules, Bennie?" I asked as he escorted me to a fitting spot for my decrepit cricket abilities.
"As for now, due to lack of time, I'm just telling you to keep an eye out for the ball and to try and catch it if it comes your way. And when you step up to swing, if you hit it, run directly for the wicket opposite you. Can you at least do that?"
"Doesn't seem too difficult," I said, rather dully. I was not amused with the thrill of a cricket game in any great sense and patiently waited for the moment where Bennett would permit me leave from the sport. "I think I can manage."
"Good." With a comforting pat on the shoulder, he left me to face the world of cricket alone, and although at the moment I was not at all intimidated or prepared for the exact events of the game, Bennett's reassuring touch suddenly left me feeling as if I could do anything. Apparently, I would find that I most definitely could not.
Needless to say, the entire cricket game after I had taken part in it was inevitably disastrous. Not only did I embarrass myself, but I also successfully humiliated Bennett as well. Roland, I left with a thunderous scowl, and Dobbin deserted the game after I ran into him trying to catch the damn ball. He fell, hurt his knee and hobbled off with a few of his mates to sit down.
Injury was not the only thing I caused. I managed to hit the ball, after nearly missing it fifty times, only to have it land in a fire nearby. More specifically, Mister Cooke's cooking fire. He was busy preparing our dinner when the ball collided into the freshly burning wood, sending several sparks everywhere. Due to the sparks, Mister Cooke got burned and had to seek Doctor Cavanaugh for treatment. And therefore, we did not eat dinner at the appropriate time, and as punishment, Captain Carlisle ordered us to find our own dinners and to refrain from playing cricket for the rest of the stay on the island. I was not proud to say that afterwards, all the lads were giving me cross looks and muttering curses behind my back.
Surprisingly, I dealt with the humiliation quite well, considering that the embarrassment I had obtained from my horrid fifteenth birthday celebration and also when I fell from the fort were nothing compared to what the lads were giving me. I was not disappointed that I had ruined their game and was the cause of the game becoming prohibited. I was more disappointed at Bennett's and Roland's dissatisfaction with me.
Roland, who I had left angry from the beginning because of the shilling I took from him, was even more indignant and refused to speak to me. Bennett was less emotional as Roland, but still quite upset. He wouldn't look at me for a while, but he still answered when I asked him a question, although he answered briefly with little interest.
"Sorry I broke up the game," I said honestly, looking at his turned face for a response. He pointed his nose up to the blue sky and stared at it, the sunlight forcing him to squint.
"An apology is not needed, Jack," he said, speaking to the sky instead of me. "I believe I should blame myself. After all, I had requested for you to participate, and well, you denied the request. Only, I had to be stubborn as an ass and demand that you engage in our merriment."
"That was a mistake," I said, before he could talk any further. "I told you I didn't want to play, and what do ya do, laddie? Ya go on and say, 'Oh, go on, Jack. It'll be fun!' And the whole crew now hates me because I listened to you."
"That is exactly why I refuse to vindicate myself," replied Bennett, a bit irritably. "I accuse you of nothing, Jack. Now, if you can allot me some time alone?" He marched off without a farewell and I glowered at his shrinking figure as he walked across the white strip of sand heading off to think in nowhere.
"I'll give ye all the time in the world, Bennie, so you can sit by yerself and ponder your life's mysteries away," I grumbled, digging my foot into the sand.
With Bennett gone, Roland on the verge of exploding, and Dobbin resting his bruised leg, I stood alone on the shore, watching the anchored H.M.S Resolve being worked on. The air was restless, blowing back and forth repeatedly, and I predicted that the wind would only grow more agitated and conjure up a storm in the days to come. Water lapped at the shoreline, and I took off my boots and waded into the water, suddenly wanting to desert the British Navy and take a different route to find Jack. But then a thought sparked in my empty head. What if there was only one route to find Jack, and what if the one I was on now, was that single chance?
"Jack," said a voice. The rush of the waves on the shore was drowned out by the new interruption.
I turned my head away from the serenity of the sea and found Doctor Cavanaugh standing a few paces behind me, his face molded into inflexible seriousness. "Your assistance is needed," he said simply before walking away and expecting me to follow, which was exactly what I did.
The tug of obligation was what pulled my body to follow Doctor Cavanaugh, and before long, we entered a tent where a few bandaged heads sat on their matching bodies. "Andre," I said into the dim of the tent. "Is he fairing well?"
"He has not woken yet, Jack," replied Cavanaugh. "His minor depression of the skull resulted in being a much more acute condition." He beckoned me over to a specific spot, and cautiously, I crept forward, afraid to step on some man's sore limb in the crowded and dank tent.
Doctor Cavanaugh pointed towards the insensate and pale body of Andre that lay limply on a cot, and I peered at him feeling extremely worried with his state.
"Andre," I whispered, kneeling down beside the cot. I gave him a rough nudge. He didn't move. My body jolted with panic ignited by the rising fear within me and I veered my head towards Doctor Cavanaugh, my eyes wide and anxiously searching for answers in his untranslatable countenance. "Doctor, what's wrong with him?"
"He is in a deep unconscious state, Jack. I'm going to have to perform an operation if he is going to live out the night."
"What!" I shrieked, jumping to my feet. "Ya can't bloody open his head! What if he dies?"
"He may die either way. But if I do nothing—"
"Give him just one more day. He'll wake up. He must," I begged.
"Neither you nor I know that for certain, Jack. I cannot wait another day for he could very well pass away into a permanent position of no return overnight. It is either now or never." I looked from him to Andre and felt my head shake with indecision.
"Jack, he will die," said Cavanaugh. He suspended any further talk for a brief moment and eyed me gravely. "I need you to aid me in his operation."
I stared blankly at Doctor Cavanaugh not knowing what to think or say.
I staggered out of the tent and while I slowly detached myself from the maritime life, I stumbled into the tropical forest, covering my tear-streaked face with my hand as my legs faltered with every step I took. Collapsing to the soft earth on my knees, I rubbed my face vigorously in the silly hope of stopping the tears. But they ended up streaming out anyway.
Andre was dying and I didn't know what to do.