Wintering Well

by Lea Wait

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Do your best, then, and see me again in two months, Will Ames.”

  CHAPTER 22

  July 12

  I have completed three patches for my rose quilt, each patch a different-shaded blossom, and several embroidered leaves. Alice continues to work her statehood quilt. It has been recently resolved that the State of Maine seal is to picture both a farmer and a seaman, as well as a pine tree, a moose, and the North Star, as Maine is the northernmost state of the Union. Alice is carefully working that difficult design. I am not as patient as she is; the needle slips through my fingers in this summer heat, and my mind travels far from my work. Yesterday I walked down to the river to find a sea breeze, but all I found was the smell of cod being brought in on Union Wharf. I saw Will on Water Street. He was not with Paul, as I had thought, but was conversing with a large, distinguished gentleman with a full beard whom I did not recognize. I believe Will is thinking about Dr. Theobold’s idea that he could be a doctor. I wish I could have Will’s choices. Even though he has but one leg, men speak with him seriously about his future. Alice says my quilt will be much admired, and that pleases me, to be sure. But when I was helping Will, I felt useful and important. The only times I feel my help is valued now is when I am with Mrs. Theobold. I am learning from her, and from the doctor, how best to care for someone who is ill. Someday such skills may be useful even in my own family, as Will’s accident has shown.

  The door to Mr. Dann’s store and workshop was open to let in the cooling river breezes, but Will could still smell the pungent woods and varnishes.

  “Mr. Dann?” As Will called out, the man came through a back door.

  “Will! I’m glad you stopped in. How is your leg?”

  “You did a fine job, sir. It does not yet feel fully a part of me, but Dr. Theobold says that will take months. I still use my crutch, but I’m able to put more weight on the new leg all the time.”

  “Splendid!”

  Will hesitated. Would Mr. Dann think he was too forward or too impetuous? “I came to see … if you wouldn’t mind, I have been thinking of Captain Morgan’s vessel.”

  “I would be happy to show you what I’m doing,” said Mr. Dann, smiling. “I have only just started on the captain’s quarters. It took time for the captain and me to agree on a design. This room”—he pointed to a drawing of an elegantly paneled office—“will be in cherry, and luckily I had some seasoned cherry in stock. The rest of the wood has to be ordered, since the captain wants the other room to be of mahogany.”

  “Where does mahogany come from?”

  “South America. But Captain Morgan has heard of a cabinetmaker in Boston who has some and will sell it for the right price. We will take the coaster down next week to inspect it. If the quality suits, then we will not have to wait months for a vessel from the south to arrive.”

  “Just obtaining the right wood takes more time than I realized.”

  “Cabinetmaking is not a profession for someone who is impatient.” Mr. Dann looked at Will. “But I suspect you know that already, from your carving.”

  “And I know that if your knife slips, you can ruin a piece of wood you value highly.”

  “Your carving is strong, Will. You have a good feel for wood.”

  “When I was here before, with Dr. Theobold, I heard Captain Morgan mention his need for a figurehead.”

  “He did.”

  “I took the liberty of finding him and showing him some carvings I have done. I thought perhaps I could carve a figurehead.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “He said I was young, but that I had skill. He has not yet commissioned a figurehead but would like to find someone in Maine who could carve one.” Will took a deep breath. “He said if I did a larger carving, he would look at it and decide then whether he would take a chance on me. So I came here. Mr. Dann, I like to carve more than anything else I can do. I think I could do the figure. But I need advice. And”—Will looked at him earnestly—“the right wood.”

  “Sit down, Will,” said Mr. Dann. “Captain Morgan has given you a great opportunity.” He sat down at his desk. “But you must be realistic. You are young. Those who carve figureheads have a great deal of experience. You do have the advantage of being here when Captain Morgan is looking for local men to work on his ship. But even if you do your best work, it may not be what he is thinking of.”

  “I know that, sir. He said the vessel is to be called the Wiscasset and that he would like its figurehead to look like his daughter, Emily.”

  “Do you know Emily?”

  “I have seen her from a distance, at church. She has a strong forehead, and her eyes are set wide. Her nose is a little small. I need to observe her more closely.”

  Mr. Dann smiled. “You have a good eye.”

  “The captain liked my carving of Alice. He liked the way her hair fell, long. He said he would like his daughter to look like that on the figurehead.”

  “And you want to try.”

  “Very much. I plan to try the larger carving. Will you help me?”

  “I will help you to find a suitable piece of pine—I may even have one in my shop that would do—and I will be happy to advise you in any way I can. But Will, I am not a wood carver. The design and the carving would have to be your own.”

  “They will be, sir.” Will grinned. He had not felt this much excitement in many months. “This is what I want to do. But …” He hesitated. “Succeeding in such a project will be difficult. I do not want my family and friends to watch me fail. For now I will tell them only that I am doing a larger carving of Alice, as a gift for her and Aaron.”

  “Your secret is safe with me. Now, let us go and look for the right piece of pine for you.”

  Will shook his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Dann. Thank you!”

  “I will enjoy watching you work,” said the older man. “And if carving figureheads proves too big a challenge now, perhaps you might help me with my work for Captain Morgan.”

  “Help you?” Will looked at him incredulously. “Your work is so fine!”

  “It is short of perfection, Will. But you are one of only a few in Wiscasset who will see that, once you learn more. I would be happy to teach you what I know. And I could use your assistance. This is a major project.”

  “I would be honored to help you, sir.”

  Just a short time ago he had no idea of what work he might do. Now there were three possibilities in front of him: carving, woodworking, and doctoring.

  “Carving the figurehead is by far the most exciting possibility,” Will said to himself as he walked home, trying hard to hide his excitement so Alice and Cassie would not notice. “But it is only fair that I consider Dr. Theobold’s offer. And working with Mr. Dann would be almost as good as carving… .” Perhaps he could not be a farmer; but he had not dreamed that the skill with a knife he had always taken for granted would bring him so many opportunities.

  CHAPTER 23

  August 4

  Mrs. Theobold seems weaker each day. She is a patient woman and rarely complains, even though I know her coughing is painful. The doctor bleeds her every day now. She likes to have Fred and Anne near her, but I try to have them play quietly. When I am not busy with Mrs. Theobold or the children or the kitchen, the doctor has shown me how to grind herbs he has gathered or bought from The Sign of the Mortar down on Fore Street. It seems magical that some plants I thought were merely weeds in the fields can save someone’s life if their secrets are known. God has provided cures for illnesses, if we are wise enough to find them. Sometimes I ask many questions, but Dr. Theobold does not seem to mind answering them. Perhaps it takes his thoughts away from his poor wife’s health.

  “Come along! Sam will be waiting for us!” Paul called upstairs to Will while Alice covered her ears in dismay.

  “Boys! Paul, you may just go up and get him.”

  “I am coming.” Will appeared at the top of the stairs. Despite his hurry, he had to descend one
step at a time, swinging his wooden leg down and then bending his good leg to join it. “Did you bring anything to eat?”

  “I have some dried beef and some raisin scones my mum made.”

  “Sounds good. Alice?”

  Alice shook her head. “Take the rest of the blackberry pie from breakfast. There is cheese in the larder. And cider.”

  “Grand!” said Paul, grinning.

  Will added the food Alice suggested to the basket Paul carried. “We’re off! Alice, we’ll be home by dark.”

  “I would think so!” Alice waved them out the door.

  It was a hot August Saturday. All week the boys had been planning to go swimming. Will had even decided to take an afternoon off from carving the piece of pine Mr. Dann had found for him, although he hadn’t yet decided whether he would actually go into the river. He wasn’t worried about the swimming. He was concerned about having to take his harness and leg off in front of the other boys. People were now used to seeing the light-haired boy with the friendly smile and the odd gait around town, but he wasn’t sure they would be as comfortable seeing his body unclothed. Or whether he would be comfortable with their stares.

  The sun felt warm on their shoulders as Paul and Will crossed Main Street and headed toward the inlet. Tinkham’s Shipyard was there, and a mill. The customhouse was nearby, and opposite the sail loft were several shops where you could buy salt for preserving meat and fish.

  They passed a group of mariners not much older than they were.

  “Looks like a couple of fish set to go swimming,” called out one of the mariners.

  “I wonder why they don’t join us,” Will said to Paul. “It’s a hot day, and they don’t appear too occupied at the moment.”

  “Most mariners don’t know how to swim,” said Paul. “They think it would be bad luck to learn.”

  “They risk their lives on deep waters every day they’re at sea. Why wouldn’t they ensure they could swim?

  Paul shrugged. “Superstition. I heard it from sailors on the passage last year. They believe it is tempting fate to let the waters think you can master them. And to be practical, if they fell overboard into cold waters, they would rather drown quickly than struggle while trying to swim.”

  “I am glad not to be a mariner, then, on such a hot day,” said Will. “Although I have not yet decided whether I am going to swim. At least I’ll take my shirt off and dip my foot in the cool water. That will be worth the walk.”

  “Not even to think of the good food we have,” Paul added.

  Sam waved to them from the far side of Fore Street. The tide was only an hour or two on the turn, so the water was still low; not yet deep enough to swim in, but plenty deep enough to splash. Several younger boys were already doing just that.

  Will, Paul, and Sam settled themselves on a high pile of rocks and driftwood above the water and focused on eating blackberry pie and scones. The food, held in fingers and eaten outside in salt air, tasted twice as good as it would have at home. Overhead three herring gulls chased a crow away from a wharf where a fisherman was unloading his boat near two eider ducks.

  It seemed a perfect afternoon.

  CHAPTER 24

  August 5

  Will and his friends are still down at the harbor, and I have a moment to write of today’s events, which were truly memorable! Dr. Theobold has told me that if patients come to see him when he is not to home, they are to be sent away and advised of his anticipated return. But today when Mrs. Swallow arrived in such distress, I did not have the heart to turn her away. Mrs. Swallow, who is considerably larger than her name might imply, sobbed in embarrassment that when she was using her best china chamber pot, it suddenly shattered, leaving her sitting on the floor amid slivers of crockery. Because of the delicate position of the pieces of china lodged in Mrs. Swallow, she was in much pain. Mrs. Theobold and the children were napping, to my relief. I helped Mrs. Swallow lie on her stomach and, with the assistance of some nippers I found among the doctor’s tools, was able to remove most of the china before the doctor returned. He then took over the task and bathed her posterior with soothing willow water. Dr. Theobold praised my work and agreed I had done what was right. I cannot help smiling as I remember Mrs. Swallow’s relief and Dr. Theobold’s words.

  As the afternoon wore on and the tide came in closer, more boys gathered on the rocks and on the skeleton of the old vessel on the mudflats. By late afternoon perhaps twenty boys were splashing in and out of the water, devouring any food they had been able to beg from home and drying off in the warm sun. The sea breeze had come late, but the air was beginning to cool down. Soon they would all head to home in time for Saturday supper, which for most would be the traditional spicy beans that had been baking all day in homes across Wiscasset.

  Will stretched in the warm sun. He had removed his shirt but was the only boy whose trousers were still on. The water was tempting, but he had decided the mudflat would be difficult to negotiate with one leg. He knew he would be sorry later tonight for even removing his shirt; he could already feel the burn of the sun on his light skin. He had not often been outside without his shirt this summer, as he would have been in the fields at home. His nose, too, would be dark red by morning.

  Paul pulled himself out of the water and shook his wet hair in Will’s direction. “Sure you don’t want to come in?” he asked, dropping down next to Will. “The water is wonderfully cool after the sun. Sam and I could help if you had trouble.”

  “If we were swimming in a creek with a rocky bottom where I could climb out on the sides, then I would be tempted to try. But I do not think I could manage the mud.”

  Paul nodded. “The mud is a challenge, even with two good legs.” He stuck his feet out in demonstration. “Lovely gooey black mud. And I’ve cut myself several times on razor clams or oyster shells or barnacles. Mum is going to have a fit if I do not soak these feet well before I get home.”

  “I am heading back soon,” said Will. “The breeze is picking up, and I have more work to do on a cart I promised I’d make Fred Theobold for one of his wooden horses. Cassie and I are going to stop in to see the Theobolds after church tomorrow.”

  Sam pulled himself out of the water and joined them. “Guess who just arrived?”

  Paul and Will looked over to Fore Street. Davey and Thom Pendleton were already removing their shirts and preparing to wade in.

  Paul shook his head. “Our favorite friends. Will and I were just thinking about heading to home, in any case. I am not in a mood to cope with those bullies.”

  Sam stood up. “I would not want them to think we were leaving because of them. They do not run this town.”

  “Maybe not,” said Will, “but they do get in the way of people living their own lives.”

  Paul nodded. “That is the truth.”

  As they watched, Davey and Thom splashed water at a little boy who had been wading near the shore. The boy fell down twice before managing to get himself out of the water and mud. He ran away down Fore Street crying.

  “It’s not right,” Sam said. “Someone should stop them.”

  The Pendleton brothers got out of the water and headed toward the United States, which stretched across the mud to the shore and was used by the older boys as a diving platform. Getting to the higher sections of the ship meant passing near to where Will and his friends sat.

  “Well, look who we have here! The crip and his two protectors.” Davey looked down at Will. “Looks like someone was not brave enough to go for a little swim today.”

  “Afternoon, Davey. It’s been peaceful here without you two,” Sam said.

  “Sounds boring to me,” Thom answered.

  “Water’s good today,” Paul added. “Enjoy your swim.”

  “I think we would really like some company, wouldn’t we?”

  “Swimming with just the two of us is no fun,” agreed Davey.

  Perhaps it was a coincidence, but most of the boys who had been swimming only moments ago had climbed out and
were pulling their shirts on and heading back for the streets of town.

  “We would not want to swim alone. You fellows will swim with us, right?”

  “Usually we would be honored to do that, of course,” said Paul. “But as it happens, we were just talking of returning home. Previous engagements, you know.”

  Will couldn’t help grinning. Paul’s English phrasing seemed even more out of context than usual on a mudflat in Wiscasset.

  Paul got up and pulled his dry shirt over his head. “Perhaps on another occasion.”

  “I think we would prefer your company today,” said Davey. He stepped close to Paul. “Perhaps just one short swim before you keep your highfalutin ‘engagement’?”

  “No, thank you,” added Sam. “Paul told you we were about to go.” He reached down to help Will up. The rocks were not easy to negotiate.

  “Look!” Davey said suddenly. “There is one of Will’s cousins, out there on the mudflat.” Surprised, all three boys turned to see what he was pointing at.

  A great blue heron had been walking slowly through the shallow waters, hunting for minnows, and had now struck a pose on one leg as he quietly waited out his prey.

  “Well, Heron Boy, what do you think?” Thom moved closer to Will. “Your one-legged cousin over there seems to like the water. Why don’t you join him?”

  Anger contorted Will’s face. Suddenly Davey stepped toward him and pushed him, hard. It caught Will off balance, and he fell backward into the water. Sam punched Davey from the side. In a few moments they were all in the muddy river.

  Will gasped and tried to stand upright. The water wasn’t over his head, but he couldn’t balance. His wooden leg wanted to float, but it was tied to him by his heavy boot and the leather harness around his waist. It was a struggle to keep his head above the water. He tried to remain calm. But his legs were opposing each other. He couldn’t get both down so he could walk on them, and the heavy waters were pulling him under. Finally he tried to lie in the water, floating, holding both legs up, and slowly pulled himself toward the shore. At least that way he could breathe.