Chapter 10: RESURRECTION
Dinner that evening was... different. A huge bowl of steamed spicy brown rice seasoned with diced scallions, celery and red bell peppers was passed around the table. Then tureens of thinly-sliced mystery meat floating in a savory brown roux (Jay Dee later learned this was called étoufée). As platters of boiled crabs arrived, almost every man jack present whipped out some form of tool with which to crack claws. Anyone without his own tool was presented one by Alcide. Jay Dee found himself armed with a pair of needle-nosed pliers. Finally scraping up the courage to taste one of the white medallions he suspected was alligator, he was pleasantly surprised by its sweet, mild flavor... somewhere between chicken and pork. Fried flounder made the rounds. Gravy-sopping cornbread appeared. And coffee strong enough to have to be spooned out of the pot.
Too bad Jess was still ill as a hornet, snarling when Jay Dee asked him if he wanted to try coming to supper.
"How about some soda crackers, then?"
Informing Jay Dee in no uncertain terms exactly where he could stuff the soda crackers, Jess curled up like a pillbug, facing the bulkhead and moaning softly. He was still in the same position, emitting muffled whimpers, when Jay Dee returned and crawled into his own bunk.
Friday, October 24th... Somewhere around three in the morning the boilers fired up, waking Jay Dee. Or maybe it was Jess' raspy voice.
"Wha's hap'nin'?"
"We're just getting underway again. Go back to sleep."
"Okay."
With a series of jerks and thumps, Jolie Rouge started moving. Jay Dee sleepily wondered how Cap'n Jack could see to steer. The cloud cover must've moved on. The next time he woke up it was to daylight and an empty bed across the cabin. The exterior door stood open.
Omigod! He's gone overboard…
Jay Dee frantically disentangled himself from his coverings and scrambled to his feet. Outside on the promenade—resurrected from the dead and looking like he'd been on the mother of all benders—Jess had both hands braced against the rails where he stood unsteadily, looking out to sea.
"Water," he croaked morosely.
"I'll go get you some... hang on..."
"No... water." He gestured toward the flat blue expanse glittering in the morning sun. "She promised we'd stay close to land."
Jay Dee sighed. "The reason all you can see is water, Jess, is because we're on the starboard side of the boat. If you walk around to the other side—the port side—you'll see how close to shore we really are. How're you feeling?"
"Like shit. Only worse."
"That good, huh?"
"You makin' fun a me?"
"Of course not. I wouldn't dare."
"I'm starvin' but I'm scared to eat anythin'."
"There's always..."
"Mention them goddam soda crackers one more time an' you're a dead man."
"Right. How about some coffee?"
"Yeah... I could do coffee. You gonna get it?"
"Right away."
"You might wanna put some clothes on."
"I might say the same of you..."
Both of them were stark naked. Jay Dee started laughing. Couldn't help it.
"Don't make me laugh or I'll throw up," Jess threatened, "in your bunk."
Good... his sense of humor's coming back...
Coffee helped, although Jess wasn't yet up to leaving the stateroom.
"Go on an' get your breakfast. I ain't goin' nowhere."
"You sure I can't bring you back some?"
"You got a death wish?"
"Gotcha. Okay. I'll be back in a little bit." As Jay Dee opened the passageway door, Jess called out to him.
"Hey kid... thanks for lookin' out for me." Gruff but genuine.
"You're welcome."
Jay Dee came back to find Jess dressed and clean-shaven, albeit with a chin dotted with nicks.
"You want to go to the saloon for a change of scenery? There's some other passengers in there, playing cards."
"Nah... not yet. Let's just sit here an' talk for awhile."
"Sure. Whatever you want. Er... talk about what?"
"How many days we been out?"
"You mean, since we left Galveston? This is only our second day."
"What? I thought we'd be goin' past Loosiana by now!"
"Afraid not. We're still in Texas waters."
"Well... dammit! What if I get sick again today?"
"Cap'n Booger says you probably won't."
"What kinda name is that, anyway? What man calls hisself 'booger'?"
Jay Dee shrugged. "Says he's originally from Australia but left a long time ago. Seems everyone there goes by a nickname and that's his. I've met people from there before and he doesn't sound like them. Maybe he's just been here too long and lost his accent."
"Ain't that the place where England sends all their criminals to get rid of 'em?"
"That's, like, last century, Jess... I don't know if they do that anymore. They're probably all normal people now."
"No... I remember readin' about it in the paper not too long ago."
"Jess... do you even know where Australia is?"
" 'Course I do," Jess retorted indignantly. "Andy showed me on that globe thing a his... it's a big island on the other side a the world."
Actually, Jess... it's a continent...
"Not to change the subject," Jay Dee said, deftly changing the subject, "but do you have any ideas what we're gonna do when we get there... wherever there is exactly? I don't see any towns as such on the map... just a bunch of pissant settlements scattered around this bay."
"Well... I got the Pinkerton's report an' Miz Rosalie wrote down some names a people we should talk to..."
None of the dozen or possible contacts on Rosalie's list were duplicated anywhere in the detective agency's summation of their findings. Each was accompanied by a brief description such as 'Carroll's Ferry—fares negotiable' or 'Brown's Landing—supplies at fair prices, lodgings and food' and 'Anderson Dock—hire boat and guide, trustworthy.' Also 'Lorraine Landing—bedbug infested, information for a price', 'Jack Lake Dock—rob you blind', 'Bucarroo Point—whores will trade for food', 'Post'l Point Landing—cheats and cutthroats'.
Extracting from a leather field case an annotated map of the bay that their hostess had thoughtfully provided, Jess shook his head mournfully. "I think I bit off more'n I can chew. Look at this... they're spread out all over the place. I don't know where to start."
"I'd suggest Cap'n Booger. He says he knows every bayou and inlet on the bay... probably knows most of these folks."
"Oh... I don't wanna bother 'im while he's drivin'."
"It's called 'steering'… and he can do both, believe me! That man likes to talk... besides, he's looking forward to having a chat when you're feeling up to it."
The whole time, Jay Dee'd been keeping an eye on his companion, noting with relief a vast improvement since earlier that morning. Jess was still a little pale but the greenish tinge had evaporated and he was a sight more animated. Jay Dee was starting to feel a little peckish himself when Jess spoke up.
"I got to eat somethin' but I don't reckon I could look a fried egg in the eye."
"Tell you what," Jay Dee said, "why don't I go consult Alcide and see if he can't rustle you up something besides..."
"Don't say it!"
"Believe it or not, you're not the sickest man onboard. You wouldn't believe what we had to... well... never mind that. I'll be back in a few minutes."
Jay Dee hadn't yet returned when there came a knock on the door. Jess answered it to find the Cajun cook bearing a covered platter. He stepped aside as Alcide carried it across to the desk and whipped off the cloth with a flourish. The offerings were less than encouraging—a banana, apple slices, dry toast cut into strips and a soft-boiled egg already decapitated. A tall glass with pale liquid poured over chipped ice turned out to be more ginger tea.
"Good for bellyache," the man declared proudly. "You eat, him stay down, eh? Tonight maybe get good food." Alcide turned and marched out.
While it wasn't what Jess had in mind, it was edible and his stomach was rumbling. Sitting down, he took a few test bites of the egg and waited to see if it stayed down. When nothing happened, he applied himself to the rest, finishing up just as Jay Dee sauntered in.
"Sorry I took so long. Went up to see the captain and he invited me to have lunch with him. You doing okay?" Jay Dee nodded his head toward the now-empty plate.
"So far, so good."
"Cap'n Booger says come on up whenever you're ready."
"I just might do that."
The elevated view from the wheelhouse served to quell Jess' nervousness about being on open sea. The shoreline, while not so near as to be able to distinguish individual trees, was close enough to afford a false sense of security to a landlubber. The upholstered swivel chair Jess was occupying—companion to the captain's—had originally been intended for a pilot, should one be needed.
Normally reticent about revealing his past exploits, Jess found himself inexplicably inclined to hold nothing back. Within a short period the two men had established a rapport based on their similar histories. In his younger days, Bruce 'Booger' Baldwin had been a bushranger—the Australian equivalent of an American western outlaw. Narrowly escaping the rope, he'd managed to stow away on a freighter, later joining the merchant marine and ultimately jumping ship in New Orleans. Tried going one hundred percent straight, found it didn't quite meet his financial requirements—not to mention his zest for adventure. Took up smuggling as a hobby, which experience came in mighty handy during the years of blockade-running on behalf of the Confederacy.
"Ah... the good old days!" the captain lamented. "T'ain't half as much fun as it used to be. What about you? Dyer ever miss bein' footloose and fancy free?"
Mulling that over, Jess had to admit to himself that no... he didn't. During that first year he'd many times been tempted to pack up and move on. Not so much, anymore.
"Dunno. Kinda lost my taste for it... that an' gettin' shot up. Don't bounce back like I useta."
Cap'n Booger agreed. "Aye. The spirit's still rarin' ta go but the body ain't willin'. All them hurts pile up. Always somethin' achin' an' ailin'."
"Amen to that!"
"Speakin' a shootin', how's yer gun hand nowadays?"
Jess' face grew wary. "Why dya ask? Expectin' trouble?"
"Always," the captain confirmed. "Especially when yer carryin' contraband. 'Spect the boy told you about that."
"He did. I ain't all that happy about it... don't want no trouble with the law."
"Not likely to have any, this far out of port. No... it's the other folks after my cargo we need to look out for."
"Thought privateerin' went out at the end a the war?"
"Meant plain old ordinary pirates... not the kind yer thinkin' of, though. No ship's gonna sail up an' board us. It's when we pull in fer the night... that's when we're most likely to be set upon by robbers. That's why we're gonna start settin' guards... not only at night but wherever we stop."
"I see... so you're wantin' to know is can I... would I... be willin' to help out if needed?"
"That's about the size of it, son. What about yer young cousin? He any good?"
"No idea. An' I ain't about to find out, neither. Anything happens to him, his folks'll come after me. I won't never be able to go home."
"All the more reason to count on you fer our fire team."
"You got it."