Chapter Fourteen: Safe and Sound
"Damn," was the first thing I heard someone hiss as I slowly regained my beloved consciousness. It was a strange thing too, for I did not expect to be greeted back to realization with the word, damn. After all, I had undergone a horrible fight with a French captain and nearly died for it, and yet I was welcomed with a very aggravated, damn, instead of the normal, "Are you feeling better, Jack?"
Following the swears came the deep vibration of an instrument. Its pitch clung to the air, giving it a well-needed relaxation and peace about the area, only to be cut off abruptly with another growl. There was only one person that I knew to have an instrument of such high and lovely quality. It was Bennett and his humming violin, and my mind was urging me to regain my bearings more swiftly so that I could see him and speak with him.
With a moan, I stiffly propped my back up against the pillow in my hammock and attempted to widen my eyes just a wee bit more. To see Bennett, or any other face I knew for that matter, was well worth the painful rigidness of my body. "Why are ya so frustrated?" I asked, squinting at him through my right eye. My left was refusing to cooperate with me and I was obliged to keep that eye shut. I scratched my head, and my fingertips grazed a coarse mess of bumps and swelling flesh. I presumed that it was the place where Doctor Cavanaugh had sewed my bruised and bashed head.
It certainly hurt terribly in the back of my head, with every second and every heartbeat came a following pulsing throb that ached and made it impossible for me to sit up straight for long. Too much blood was pounding towards my injured head and I could not withhold the agony. I wanted laudanum to ease the hurt, but I doubted that I'd be given any more on account of my easily obtained drunken state.
The screeching of Bennett's instrument stopped, and his eyes locked on mine, open with pleasure and relief at the sight of me being awake. "Greetings, Jack," he said, setting his violin carelessly onto a nearby table and walking briskly towards me. He took a seat on the outer edge of my hammock, making it lean on an angle towards that side (and therefore making me tilt to the right) and only looked at me all the more interested. "How's that head of yours? Did I wake you with my unpleasant musical abilities?" Before I could answer his first question, he leaned forward and laid his hands on my churning head and gently prodded certain places and observing my reactions to see specifically where I was most hurt.
"Ya didn't wake me, Bennie. I woke up on me own. And your playing isn't unpleasant. It's entirely very pleasant. I like it. Why were you getting angry?" I asked, before giving a yelp because Bennie had touched the spot on my head where Cavanaugh conducted his main operation.
"Sorry," he apologized with a slight grimace, and he kindly gave a few more gentle pats on the back of my head. "And as for the curses I was unleashing, well, it's really nothing. I was just getting a bit angry at myself because I was trying to make a song."
"Really?" I replied, a bit excitedly. Bennett was indeed far more talented than he thought himself to be. "What's it called? How's it sound like? Will you play me what ye have so far?" He laughed and signaled for me to be silent and I pressed my lips shut in a smile.
"Here, swallow this." He stood up, his weight lifting off the side of my hammock and putting it back into balance. He walked over to the table where his violin sat and gathered a cup and dish. Upon his return he handed the glass to me and scooped up some white stuff from the dish with a small spoon.
"To ease the pain, I assume?" I predicted, trying to raise an eyebrow at him, but failing. My brow was still too sore from the French captain's assaults. Wait… French… I thought… "Bennie," I began. He motioned for me to open my mouth and in it he placed the spoon with the medication, and I swallowed the thick, sour tasting paste down with a gag. "How are we still on the ship? I thought the French—"
"Still wondering about that, aye?" he interrupted, turning away to return the glass and dish to the table. "Well, to make a long story short because I know you lose interest if I talk too much, which I do often. For you to challenge the captain of our enemy was quite unorthodox, especially considering that you are a ship's boy. Your courage and decision to brave all and save us gave the rest of us Britons quite a boost in morale and while we watched you being beaten by that French bastard, well, we would not give up without another fight."
"Where was Captain Carlisle all that time?"
"Still with us. The liniment you had given him had finally eased his pain and he could focus more on leadership than the sting in his wounds. He was fighting through the crowd with his bad leg, trying to interfere before you died, but as soon as you fell to the ground unconscious, he rushed forward and shot the Frenchman in the back, and after that, you would have been surprised at how mighty we men of blessed Britain were, Jack. We slaughtered the French and took her ship as a prize!" I gave a sigh of relief. The captain had still retained his honor, and I had lost mine.
"That's brilliant!" I cried, feeling the analgesic finally move through my body and get me into a more harmonious mood. "Where's the enemy's ship? Who's captaining it while we are sailing?"
"First Lieutenant Thorne. Only a handful of men are onboard that ship as of now, and all that is left of the French crew is in our brig. We are headed for Portsmouth to regroup, refit both ships and assemble a crew for the newly captured ship. We should stay in Portsmouth a week, maybe more, which would make it my longest stay in my homeport since I left it five years ago." He paused and looked up, as if he was imagining his future stay there, probably with his dearest Marie.
"D'ye think we could go to London?" I asked. "I've never been there and I'd like to just see—"
"Why certainly, Jack. We could visit London," he interrupted. "I'll show you around Portsmouth first. You'll like it there. A very lively town."
"Splendid. Show me all the brothels there and I'll be content." I gave him a wink and he blushed red, shaking his head from side to side.
"Jack," he sighed. "You'll end up getting the pox or plague with your wanton desires."
"Pox?" I echoed, scratching my blood-crusted head. "What's that?"
"An infection. You are covered with red dots and it is a fatal disease. Very few survive it and many of the lowly who resort to prostitution and fornication contract it and spread it to those they have bedded. Best watch out."
"I ain't that stupid, Bennie. Besides, I was joking wi' ye. I'd never do such a thing. I'm clean."
"Of course you are," he mocked disbelievingly, and I punched his arm with pathetic strength in return.
"I may have a mouth for lyin' but I don't lie 'bout that, Benito," I growled, crossing my arms over my chest. "Jack Barlow ain't like Griffith who'd happily bed any woman for that matter. Now if he got the pox, I wouldn't be surprised. Good riddance, it'd be."
"Not for us, it would. We need his leadership," said Bennett matter-of-factly and I snorted in response.
"Leadership. Hell, Griffith don't care about leadership. All he wants is to get us bowing at his feet and kissin' his ring-covered hands and to have a whole bordello surrounding him with affection. Not to mention about a thousand treasure chests full of riches to pay for it all," I grumped. "He wouldn't care if we all died. Even you."
"I'm sure he would. No one can be that heartless."
"I fear Griffith has deceived you then, for he is the most heartless cad in the entire world, Bennie. Believe naught of what he says. And if you say you don't have anyone else to listen to, then listen to yerself, which is what you should have been doing from the beginning, lad." His eyes hardened and he set his lips in a prim line and looked as if he was going to tell me off.
"That's very bold of you, Jack," he scorned. "Perhaps too bold. I don't need you to tell me what I should do. I am, after all, the senior mid. I know better."
"Don't use your title as an excuse," I murmured. His visage wrenched in pure abhorrence. "Fine. Use it as an excuse, but it certainly ain't a reason," I huffed.
"Watch your mouth, Jack," spat Bennett in reply. I shrugged him off. "I mean it. One more word and I will report you."
"So much for friendship then, aye?" I returned, eyeing him with a stare that said, 'You know I'm right, so drop the subject.' And it worked. With a sharp sigh steaming out of his nose, he turned around and stomped up the stairs to the deck above, and I watched him leave, smiling to myself.
A few weeks passed. My head healed well, and I returned to doing my routine schedule of chores as a ship's boy. My relationship with Roland though, only collapsed all the more. After the whole big battle with the French, Roland only distanced himself farther away from me. When I was still unable to work because of my head injury, Roland visited not once. Not once.
Everyone else took the time to visit, even the captain and yet Roland remained the stubborn arse and did not come see me. I suspected that even if I died, the lad wouldn't care. And it was a worry that continued to plague my mind, leaving me focusing less on my orders and more on why Roland was so angry with me. Dear brother, where do you think your running feet will get you if you have no clear idea of where you wish to go?
Bennett seemed to understand my problem with Roland and many a time tried to arrange things so that he and I would meet. But they never fulfilled their purpose. Roland would glower at me and then would stomp off, ignoring Bennett's orders. And if Bennett had not been such a soft-hearted gentleman, Roland would have been flogged for his insubordination.
I was through with denying myself any longer. I missed Roland. I missed my brother.
But he did not miss me…
One night when I was on watch with Bennett, I could barely stay awake. I knew I had to, for there was no telling when we might encounter pirates or other possible threats to the British Navy, but I couldn't. My eyes encumbered with the need to sleep and Bennett finally agreed to my dozing off for just a half hour or so. He promised to watch over me so as to keep my secret slumber unnoticed by the officer of the watch, which was Lieutenant Johnson. A quarter of our men were on the French ship, and thankfully white-haired Lieutenant Thorne and gruesome Griffith were part of that quarter. I would not have to worry about too much punishment if I was caught sleeping on watch.
I clumsily climbed the shrouds to the foretop with the weight of laziness falling on my limbs. I wanted to sleep so badly. Just… sleeeep. Bennett said he'd follow after me to keep watch, but made sure not to seem too forward or else our plan would not work. As my hand knocked against the wooden foretop, I sighed with happiness and used up the rest of my energy to get my body on the platform and fall asleep, and as soon as I was comfortably lying down, my mind was dead with sweet slumber.
My brain was not so dead after all, for soon after I fell into the blackness of sleep, my dream was invaded with a terrible storm. It was night and I was on a ship by myself. No one was at the wheel. No one was anywhere. I was alone, standing in the middle of the rocking ship and seeking for some help. Anyone… anything, just a hand to help guide me to safety. "Daddy!" I cried. A hideous black wave roared from the water and broke against the empty ship, and I was drenched with the biting water and crawled over to the splintered mainmast for support.
Upon reaching it, I cried again. "Daddy! Roland!" There was nothing but the howl of the wind and the laughter of the spitting rain that answered, and I wrapped my arms around the mast tightly, whimpering to myself.
Another wave hit, the water rushing over me in an unbreakable torrent. All the while, I screamed for Jack. I screamed for him to come and take me away; to help me. But he never came. Neither did Roland. In my dream, I shut my eyes closed, allowing me to see the darkness that I felt in my heart, and the ship suddenly tilted, cracking and rocking about madly. "Please! Daddy!" I shouted. Something pulled on my leg, pulling me away from the mast I clung to for dear life. "Help me!" I screamed.
I heard the ocean moan and my eyes burst open, and I saw that my ship was sinking into the sea, being swirled about in a hideous whirlpool of dead souls, monsters and ribbons of blood. "Don't leave me! Please! Don't leave me!"
"Astrid!" came a faint call. My head shot up in the possibility of hope and rescue.
"Daddy!" I screamed.
"I'm comin', love!" it returned, being blown away with the breath of the wind.
"Don't let me die!" Whatever was pulling on my leg only tugged all the harder and I wailed as my grip around the mast was loosened. "Please, don't leave me…" I was jerked away from the mast and as I began to fall to hell's ocean, I felt a hand grab my own and I looked up, to meet the face of my savior.
"Daddy…" I smiled, and he looked as if he was about to pull me up, but then his face began to contort and change.
"Hello, love," he cackled, the skin on his face burning up and being devoured in flames. As his skin burned off, his voice morphed and he looked more like a demon than my father. His torching skin burned my hand and with a shriek, I was forced to let go of him, and into the pool of fears did I plummet into.
"N—" I woke up, about to scream out loud, but a hand covered my mouth and muffled my yowls. I recognized the touch of the hand and knew it was Bennett, and he remained loyal to me and did his best to make sure no one found out I was sleeping during my duty.
"Quiet, Jack," he whispered. "It's all right." I didn't realize that I had wet his hand with my crying, and he must have thought me highly feminine to do so, and if not feminine, then most likely a bleeding fairy. "You had a nightmare, mate. You'll do fine. Just relax." His orders were always the easiest to follow, for I was always more than willing to do whatever he asked me to. I didn't know why I was so obedient to him.
He finally released his hand from my mouth and put a finger to his lips to signal for me to stay quiet. I nodded and wiped my cold, sweaty brow with the back of my hand. "I… I'm sorry," I shuddered, finding it difficult to speak about such a horrid dream. "I can't escape my problems through sleep, Bennie. They keep comin' back. I'm gonna have to solve them or I won't rest at all. No wonder I've been so tired."
"You usually get better sleep after a nightmare. Go on and rest again. I'll keep watch still. By all means, you need it. You look like you've seen a ghost." Because I have, I thought. Or at least something just as scary. He punched my arm playfully and I grabbed his hat and pushed it down over his eyes. After we shared a few more laughs, I decided to take his advice, and trusting that I'd be safe under his wing, I closed my eyes and slept again.
The next morning was very bleak and dreary. A storm was just waiting to gush from the melancholy clouds and unleash the untamable sea's wrath upon us and our poor ships. I was up in the rigging, fixing a line and knotting a few ropes here and there. I enjoyed my time up high above the steady deck. I wasn't sure why, for before, I was quite terrified of the height, but now I couldn't help but love it up there. It made me feel as up in the clouds as my mind was at all times. Plus, up there, I was a bit safer from a man's wandering eyes.
It had occurred to me that when I'd pass by some sailors, they'd turn their heads and look at me, their faces all wrinkled in confusion or curiosity. At first, it wasn't a bother. I simply believed that they were admiring how I was becoming a better seaman, or that they were just amused with my youth (which they very much lacked), but it slowly came to my attention, after a chilling incident with Lonan, that the men were lookingat me, up and down. Was it all too obvious that I was a woman? My hair was even shorter than before, cut very close to my head because Doctor Cavanaugh had to operate on me, so I could not have had the face of a woman.
Perhaps it was my figure, but that did not make sense either. I wore loose clothes that hid my tiny waist. Sure, my clothes were becoming a bit small after numerous uses of them, and many a time Bennett had requested me go down to the ship clerk and ask for some cloth to make myself new clothes, but that was busy work. I could barely sew a seam. What made them think I would succeed in making myself my own clothes? I resolved to wait until we reached Portsmouth before I got myself new apparel.
Then, that stormy morning, I was out on the quarterdeck with Andre, doing a jig with him. Hawley was playing on his fiddle and another sailor was piping away on a flute. The song was lively and upbeat and so, having taken dance lessons as a girl, Andre showed me a few steps and I mimicked them and soon we were off as a jigging duet.
Andre would take a turn and hop a few steps, and then it was off to me to repeat them. Only, whenever Andre danced, the lads would cheer and clap and laugh, but with me, they'd just pause and give their evil sniggers. I was beginning to get very frightened for my life. And Lonan decided to give me a taste of what the men were really thinking when they watched me dance.
When Hawley's fiddle stopped and our feet slowed down, Lonan marched right up to me and hooked his arm right around my chest and gave me a squeeze there, and my eyes were stricken with fear. "Aren't you just the loveliest dancer, eh, Jack?" he cooed in his grizzly voice. I gulped and tried to jerk away from him, and thankfully, Andre saw what was going on.
"Don't be touchin' him like that, Lonny," he said, prying Lonan's arm away from me. "He's jus' a bleedin' bugger," muttered Andre into my ear as he freed me from Lonan's clutch.
"Thanks, mate," I wavered, my body shaking. I decided to escape the daunting world of men for just a moment and have a few minutes to myself, and as I ran away from their wandering eyes, Lonan gave me a wink and I grew so sick with horror that I wanted to vomit.
But I had no one to turn to. Every man I confided in was busy with his duty. Oh damn duty!
Roland, I thought as I locked myself in the head just to get my bearings. Strange a place indeed, but it was the only place I knew I'd be safe from any other man's wandering hand. With a sob caught in my throat, I whispered, "I need you back, brother."