Aboard Providence Page 13

  Ben stared at his feet. “Yes.”

  A collective mummer rippled through the group.

  Reverend Colburn put up his hand silencing them and looked back down at Ben. “Why did you do it?”

  “Because they killed Bull and Betty.”

  “Who are Bull and Betty?”

  “The ox calves.” Ben’s shoulders shook and he wiped his eyes. “They were my friends.”

  “I see,” the reverend said. “The men used a gun when they slaughtered the oxen and so you retaliated by getting rid of the guns.”

  “No, I wasn’t retaliating.” Ben sniffled. “They killed Bull and Betty because they were eating too much and growing too big. I wanted to make sure they didn’t kill any more big animals, especially Gypsy. I love Gypsy.”

  “It was still wrong to take something that belonged to someone else and throw it into the sea, Benjamin. Do you understand why your actions upset everyone?”

  Ben nodded and Marian’s heart broke for him. He thought he was saving the other animals from death and now he was on trial, saved only by the reverend’s kind wisdom. Her vision blurred as tears pooled in the corners of her eyes.

  Reverend Colburn touched Ben’s shoulder as he addressed the group. “Benjamin has admitted taking the guns and he understands why everyone is angry. We cannot build a peaceful society if we react to wrongdoing with anger. We must purpose in our hearts to treat each other as we wish to be treated. Who among us has not done something thinking they were helping and they were actually hurting? If we are to pass our values on to the next generation we must first instill them in ourselves.” He glanced over the crowd as Mr. Foster trudged up the stairs from the ship’s hold. Bits of grass hay clung to his cuffed sleeves.

  Marian’s father brushed his dirty hands together. Everyone turned to stare at him. He looked at Marian. “What’s going on?”

  The reverend called Mr. Foster forward and explained the situation. Though the reverend was gracious and never accused her family of causing trouble, Marian looked away, ashamed. She glanced at Jonah. He was sitting on a crate near the captain’s cabin with his head in his hands.

  The reverend told Marian’s parents and Ben to sit with the rest of the group then he stepped forward to address them all. “We must prove our willingness to forgive and our desire for peace by showing Benjamin kindness. There will be no mention of this incident again, nor bemoaning about what is gone—neither Benjamin missing the oxen, nor you all missing your guns. We will not define Benjamin by his mistake. And in the future, when you discover you have been wronged, come before the elders peacefully, in hopes that there will be repentance and restoration. A desire for justice is noble, but words poured out in anger lay a foundation on which no relationship should be built.”

  Jonah lifted his face from his hands and looked straight at her. Did he think less of her and her family for Ben’s actions? Her breath came in shallow spurts as he fixed his gaze on her for one long exquisitely painful moment.

  Reverend Colburn continued his admonition, but Marian’s attention was fully held by Jonah. Finally, he wiped a hand across his mouth. His chest rose as he deeply inhaled then he mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

  Shadows beneath his eyes attested to the fatigue that plagued them all. He had been through as much as the rest of them on this journey, perhaps more because he never wanted to come along in the first place. Now he was taking the blame for Mr. Weathermon’s behavior. Though Mr. Weathermon was Doctor Ashton’s friend and seemed to like Jonah too, she didn’t feel Jonah should apologize for him. She shifted the baby in her arms and nodded at Jonah.

  As the reverend dismissed them, the people stood, blocking her connection with Jonah. When they moved away, Jonah was still seated and focused on her. From across the deck he mouthed, “I’m so sorry.”

  Before she could respond, her mother walked toward her, dabbing her eyes. “Your father and Benjamin are going to have a talk. Come, let’s put Asher down for his nap.”

  Marian took her eyes off Jonah to look at her mother and when she looked back he was standing and the reverend was speaking to him. He glanced at her once and then continued his conversation. Marian rocked the baby in her arms. “Yes, of course, Mother.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jonah glanced up at the night sky as he paced the worn planks of the ship’s deck. Even the beauty and brilliance of the stars could not capture his anxious attention tonight. He had spent the afternoon trying to find an opportunity to speak to Marian, to explain himself, to regain her favor after Mr. Weathermon’s rude behavior toward her family, but he did not get the chance and, by nightfall, had worked himself into nauseating nervousness.

  He swallowed the acid that arose from his stomach and drew his watch out of his trouser pocket. While he checked the timepiece, the gap between the hour and minute hands closed, both pointing to XII. Though midnight, he would still wait for her.

  When he slipped the watch back into his pocket, he felt the edge of the letter he had received from his father calling him home from Philadelphia. He daily questioned his decision to leave the city. Maybe he should have responded to that letter by writing to his family, wishing them well, and staying at Penn. No, he could never have done that to his father.

  Homesickness infected every fiber of his being, save for the ever-growing portion of his heart that beat for Marian. He wanted to go home and regretted ever leaving; he wanted to stay with Marian and regretted drawing attention to her family over her brother’s foolishness. If she held it against him, he would never forgive himself. He cracked his knuckles and looked back at the stairwell as the scuff of footsteps ascended from the bunk deck.

  The starlight lit Marian’s hair as she walked toward him. He drew his hand from his pocket, striding forward. “You received my letter.”

  Marian tucked her hair behind her ear as she met him on the deck. “I did. Sarah gave it to me after dinner, but I waited until my family was asleep to meet you.”

  His fingertips burned to touch her, but he motioned to the ship’s stove instead. “Would you like a cup of tea? I could light the fire in the stove and put the kettle on for you.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “I suppose you enjoy preparing it yourself.”

  She smiled, faintly. “I do but our rations are low, so I’m not making tea at night anymore.”

  “I know how tea comforts you. I could prescribe an additional ration for you medicinally, if you like.” He hoped his attempt at humor was understood. When her smile grew, it relieved some of the ache in his heart. “Marian, I am sorry I drew attention to your brother’s behavior.”

  She raised a hand. “Jonah, you’ve already apologized. The matter had to come out in the open.”

  “But Mr. Weathermon spoke harshly to you and Benjamin both. I feel responsible for all of this. I’ve been so intent on getting back to medical school and getting you to say that you would go with me that I wasn’t prepared for what happened. I should be able to put my future plans aside and focus on helping the group get to land safely.”

  “Your job on this ship is to keep us healthy, not to mediate squabbles. And don’t be so hard on yourself for thinking more about the future than the present. We’re in the midst of a difficult situation. You might be the ship’s physician, but you aren’t exempt from the mental effects of being lost at sea.”

  “And now you are excusing my weakness.”

  “We’re all on edge.”

  “You truly see the best in people.”

  She shrugged. “It’s easy to see the best in you.”

  “You wouldn’t be so quick to forgive me if you knew what a mess I left behind in Philadelphia.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Since he had asked her to return to America with him, it was only fair that she know what might be awaiting him. Though the night air was cool, perspiration wet his collar. “It will be a lucky man who gets to spend his life being loved by you. If I still have a chance of being that man, I sh
ould confess something to you… something involving a shocking and indelicate accusation.”

  She inclined her head and smiled so sweetly his heart ached. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

  If he were going to disappoint her again, it would be best to get it over with. He drew a deep breath and pointed at the bench amidships. “Come sit with me, please.”

  Her expression became pensive. She walked to the bench and sat, spine straight and shoulders down. He sat beside her and took her hand in his. Despite her controlled posture, the slight tremble in her fingertips gave away her fear. He didn’t want to be the cause of her anxiety; he wanted to be the cure. He curled her fingers into his palm and looked her in the eye. “Before I left Philadelphia I received word that I was being accused of assaulting a female patient. I did not do it and though I did not have an alibi for the time in question, I had the means to defend myself if official charges were filed.”

  “Were they… filed?”

  “I don’t know. I learned about the accusation the same day I received my father’s letter telling me to return to Virginia. I intended to go back to Philadelphia quickly and clear my name, but then I had to stay and help my father—”

  “And by now you might be a wanted man.”

  “Possibly.”

  She pulled her hand away and he squeezed his eyes shut preparing for her outburst of disgust. When she said nothing, he dropped his head into his hands. “I never should have asked you to go back with me, or I should have at least told the whole truth when I did ask you.”

  She touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

  He looked up, astonished.

  Her face was filled with the same sympathy and concern for him now as it had been for Benjamin when he had thrown the guns overboard. She smoothed his collar, her fingers still trembling. “You’re very brave to want to go back and fight for your reputation. I cannot say that I would do the same if I were you. We are so different—you and I.”

  “But perhaps our differences would make us compatible.” A strand of hair blew over her cheek and with a finger he moved it away from her eye. “I could face anything with you by my side. You would tell me everything will be all right and I would believe you… If you decide to go home with me.”

  She leaned away and took her comforting hand with her. “Jonah, I—”

  “Don’t answer now. Please. Just think about it. Let’s talk about something else, anything else: the stars, this ship, your summer in Richmond. What was life like in Accomack while I was away? Did I miss anything interesting at the old schoolhouse?”

  Marian lifted her face to the stars and hummed an exhalation. “Nothing interesting, I suppose. Not compared to going to college. Mrs. Owens taught class. Henry pouted while he gawked at Peggy. Peggy batted her lashes while she tried to flirt with Gabriel. Gabriel tried to lift things or break things or climb things to impress Olivia.”

  “Did it work?”

  She looked at him. “His stunts or impressing Olivia?”

  Jonah chuckled. “Either.”

  “No.” Marian laughed, too. “I believe they are well-suited for each other, but she isn’t in a hurry to get married.”

  He listened to her voice and wished she would talk and laugh forever. “How about you? What did you do at school?”

  “Usually stared at the blackboard.”

  “Always the good student.”

  “No, that’s just where I stared while I daydreamed.”

  He scooted an inch closer to her on the bench. “And what did you daydream about?”

  She gazed up at the stars again. After a long moment, she said, “This. I dreamed of sailing far away from Accomack County and the babies buried on my family’s property and having an adventure somewhere new. I imagined making discoveries in an exotic land and journaling my findings for future generations to marvel over. Prideful, I know. I just wanted to do something others might find amazing.” She looked down at the deck and crossed her arms. “I daydreamed in class when I should have been studying, and now I’m on the adventure I dreamed of and I’m wishing I had something to study. I was always a little jealous of you for getting to go away to college. Believe me, you didn’t miss anything while you were gone.”

  “I missed five years of my little sister’s life. It didn’t bother me until I went home and saw how big she’s grown. Time seems to pass so slowly when we are children and now it seems each year is faster than the one before.”

  “Five years… it doesn’t feel like you were gone that long.”

  “I started college in Dover at sixteen and today I turned twenty-one.”

  Marian snapped her head toward him. “Today is your birthday?”

  “Yesterday, actually. It’s after midnight.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I hate birthdays.”

  “But what if others want to celebrate you?”

  “My family knows I prefer to keep to myself on my birthday.”

  “Fine.” She smiled. “May I at least wish you a happy birthday now?”

  It was almost impossible to be downtrodden in her company. He lifted his chin and grinned at her. “You may.”

  “Happy twenty-first birthday, Jonah. I wish you perfect health and happiness and success all of your days.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The twentieth of March marked the change of season, commencing autumn on the Southern Hemisphere, and brought with it a fierce southeasterly wind that flipped Jonah’s collar against his neck as he stepped out of the captain’s cabin. A host of black clouds puffed ominously in the western sky, masking the late afternoon sun and splaying intermittent rays of light unnaturally across the ship. The men were working frantically in the wind, pulling in the sails as the gusting wind threatened to shred the canvas. A commotion at the bow drew Jonah’s attention.

  “Get to the ropes,” Captain Frakes yelled to the men on deck over the blasting wind as he walked out onto the bowsprit and began to work the forestays.

  Jonah rushed to the front of the ship, out of fear for the captain’s safety rather than to assist with saving the sails. The bowsprit extended a considerable length in front of the prow and seemed to wobble over the ocean’s tumultuous surface. It always made Jonah nervous when anyone had to work over the water, and he never trusted his vision when his heart beat this fast.

  Gabriel pushed past him, kicked off his shoes, and walked out on the bowsprit to help the captain.

  Jonah shielded his face from the sidelong wind. Fear told him to look away, but his training ensured he stay nearby in case one of the men was flung into the sea. He disliked the odds of safely drawing a man from the ocean in such conditions, but he would do everything in his power to save a person.

  As the captain furled the forestays, a high wave broke against the bow. He lost his footing but clung to the chains. Jonah reached forward out of instinct, even though he was too far from Captain Frakes to actually catch him if he had fallen.

  After the captain regained his footing, he yelled for Gabriel to get back on the deck. Jonah didn’t breathe again until Gabriel’s bare feet touched the deck of the ship. They both held onto chains near the bowsprit as Captain Frakes finished saving the sails. Finally, he gripped the ropes to steady himself and walked the beam back toward the deck.

  The wind gusted. Some of the high waves crested below the captain while others splashed against the hull. As Captain Frakes took his last step on the bowsprit, a rope snapped. Jonah and Gabriel simultaneously lunged to catch him. They each managed some grip on the captain, but his head banged against the beam and snapped to the side. Jonah’s shoulders burned and his hands throbbed as he held onto the captain’s limp body.

  “Pull!” Gabriel yelled, and they both pulled the captain onto the deck, his thin torso first, then his dangling legs.

  Jonah dropped beside the unconscious captain and rolled him onto his back. “Captain Frakes!” Jonah yelled instinctively. “Frakes!”

/>   As he reached to the captain’s neck to find a pulse, he felt the disjointed cervical bones in the captain’s spine. He lowered his ear close to the captain’s mouth. No breath. He felt again for a pulse. No heartbeat. The captain’s neck was broken, his life lost.

  The men gathered close with their feet all around Jonah as he hovered over the captain’s dead body. Mr. Weathermon knelt beside him and gripped the captains’ shoulders. “Spence! Spence! Come to, boy!”

  Jonah sat back on his haunches. “He is dead.”

  “He’s not dead!” Mr. Weathermon’s voice broke. “Spence!” He tried again then looked at Jonah with hollow eyes. “Get him into the sterncastle! Is Doctor Ashton still in there?”

  “He is,” Jonah answered. Though certain the captain was dead and there was nothing to be done for him, Jonah was not offended by Mr. Weathermon’s desire to take the body to another physician.

  As Jonah stood, Gabriel scooped the captain’s dead body from the pitching deck of the ship. The men huddled around, supporting one another and clinging to the ropes and rails as they made their way across the deck and into the captain’s cabin. The palpable air of tragedy stung as much as the briny wind.

  Doctor Ashton stood when they entered the sterncastle. The men crowded the room as Gabriel laid Captain Frakes’ body on the berth. The sails were saved, the wind was too fierce to stay on deck, and there was no space for all of them in the sterncastle. Jonah got their attention and asked the other men to go down below. He promised to bring word to them shortly.

  Once the men were gone, Doctor Ashton opened the captain’s coat. Its pocket dangled from the bunk’s edge. A thin metal key dropped to the floor.

  While Doctor Ashton examined the captain and confirmed his death, Mr. Weathermon paced to the window. He choked on a sob. “Why has God allowed this? Why? Where is the reverend with his assurances of God’s goodness now? I’d like to hear his defense of a god who allows a ship to get lost and its captain to die. How can God be good if he allows circumstances such as this? That’s what I want to know!”