by Ward, Vivian
With that, I walk away, leaving her to laundry detail.
I have no idea how I’m going to get medicine from the ship’s doctor. He’s not going to give it to me just because I ask. Since all of the supplies are low, he’s been evaluating everyone and only giving medicine to the ones who can make it and as bad as she sounds, I don’t know that he’d give it to her.
I must steal it. I’ll have to make an excuse to get an appointment with him and take it when he’s not looking. It’s the only way she’ll get what she needs. It might cost me my career if I’m caught stealing medicine but I’ll do it for her. I’d do anything for her if it means keeping her alive, just like I stole food for her and Lizzy.
As the days pass by while I try to figure out how to see the doc, I can’t stop thinking about how she asked me why’d I ask about true love. Did she want to know if I was talking about her? Does she feel the same way about me? It’s like she was trying to get inside my head to figure out what I thought. Maybe asking her that question was stupid because I might’ve unintentionally placed the thought in her head.
I’m not ready for her to know how I feel because I’m not sure how I feel. Sometimes I think I’m ready to steal a rowboat and whisk her away but then I remind myself of the consequences. And other times, I just want to lock her in my room and do unspeakable things to her body. That can’t be love, right?
The worst part is, I’ve already opened my mouth and I can’t take it back.
Something isn’t right and I know that I’m getting sicker. Aside from my chest rattling, coughing my head off and feeling like death, I’ve been puking my guts up. Even my friend Charlotte now has what we’ve coined as ‘the death rattle’ but she’s not nearly as bad.
I’ve been monitoring Lizzy and, fortunately, she hasn’t thrown up. There are so many diseases running rampant since it’s been cold for a while now, that I have no idea if I’m catching something new or if it’s just nausea from the choppy sea.
The strong winds and icy water have made for a horrible trip, and it seems that I only feel better when I get to go on deck for laundry detail and have some fresh air. Unfortunately, because of the weather, it hasn’t been that often. I’ve only gone up twice and I didn’t see Matthew either time. I desperately need to see him so we can get the medicine that we need since the doctor is only seeing a few convicts per day and so many are sick.
To make matters worse, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Matthew asking me about true love. Surely, he wasn’t talking about us, was he? I’ve had plenty of time to think about it and it’s the only answer that I can come up with. The more I think about it, the more I try to stop myself but it never works. I’ve been trying like crazy to get my head together. There’s no way he could have been talking about us. For all I know, he has a wife back home and is wondering if their relationship will survive his time away.
But I’m too scared to ask.
I made a huge mistake by getting in bed with him and possibly an even bigger one when I questioned him about what he meant when he started talking about true love. He may have mistaken that as an interest in him.
Here’s the crazy thing, though: I thought that maybe we were starting to form some type of relationship. I mean, he’s taken care of Lizzy and me since day one, he’s gone out of his way to sneak us food, blankets, and clothing, and then we shared an amazing day together after I helped with all of the cooking in the kitchen.
This might sound stupid but the day was….amazing. At least, it was to me. I didn’t have to stand in the cold wind hanging wet laundry. Instead, I was in a warm kitchen, surrounded by food and laughter. And then he took me to his room where he’d stashed a feast for us and we shared intimacy. He saw my naked body, gave me multiple orgasms, and even had new clothes for Lizzy and me to wear.
Where I used to try to stay away from him and once tried to escape him, I now want to be surrounded by him at all times. I look for him every time the door opens, every time I go up on deck, and I even see his face in my dreams.
But why did he ask me about true love? He used to be so cold and callous towards me. Normal men don’t kidnap women, hold them hostage in their room, force them to do things, and then, later, provide for them. It almost makes me think that he’s afraid to get close to women but somehow, I think he became comfortable with me. Maybe that’s why he asked me that question. But why is he the way he is? Why me?
He could’ve chosen any convict on this ship to bed him. While most women scoff and turn up their nose at the idea, there are plenty who are hungry to sleep with a guard or Marine. I bet some of them wish they had, but they didn’t for one reason or another. Maybe it’s because they were afraid they’d alienate themselves from the others the way Charlotte and I have, or maybe it’s because they were afraid of getting caught, or maybe it was something else entirely.
But Matthew chose me.
I wish I’d told him that I do believe in true love but how can I do that when I’m still mourning the loss of my husband? By sleeping with him, I’ve already ruined my family, so, surely, he wouldn’t believe my real thoughts on the matter. Would he? How do I expect him to believe me when I’m labeled as a thief and am incarcerated? I’ll always have the convict label no matter if I never commit another crime or not.
What man would want someone like me as a partner? What man would want a dishonest person? That’s what a thief is, isn’t it? Upstanding people don’t steal.
But, then again, nobody—not even Henry—has seen me for who I really am because I didn’t know how strong I was. I’m still surprised by some of my actions—standing up for myself and the others, ensuring that my baby never goes hungry, and for not being afraid to be me. I wasn’t always like this. As a younger woman, I was timid and obedient. That’s how women are raised but, at some point, something inside of me changed. I grew tired of being complacent and a “Yes, sir,” kind of woman. It’s certainly not who I am today.
Maybe Matthew sees me in the same light: independent and resourceful, but the more I think about it, I’m done playing his game. I’m finished sleeping with the enemy. The days of playing a prison housewife to a Marine are over. All of this has to stop.
I don’t know why I let the lines get blurred. There’s no good answer for why I’d let Charlotte influence me. They feed us; albeit, not very much but it’s still some food. I don’t have a good answer for why I didn’t kill him that first time he locked me in his room and took me away from my child. There’s no excuse for the sexual acts I’ve done with him.
I suppose that maybe lust got in the way and I got caught up in the whole prisoner/officer Stockholm syndrome. For a fleeting moment, I thought he was my savior. I thought he was the answer to all of my problems—real or imagined.
But then again, without his help, maybe we would’ve starved. Plenty of others have. I’ve watched men and women dwindle down to nothing more than skin and bones. There was no flesh. I’ve seen people freeze to death from the frigid temperatures. I’ve watched babies slowly die in their mother’s arms as they starved to death or disease took them. Disease has wiped out more convicts than I’d like to count. But the officers and staff? Not a single one of them has died. Their lives are more important than ours, so they’re the ones who get medicine and care from the ship’s doctor as well as plenty of food. The convicts are left to suffer and die.
Without Matthew providing us with extra food, blankets, and clothes, Lizzy and I may have faced the same fate as some of the others. But does that make things right? Does it make it right that I’ve tarnished my family in more ways than I can count? Does it make it right that I’ve sold my soul to the devil so we could live?
I’d like to tell him, “The hell with you!,” but I don’t know if I can do that. With Lizzy and I being sick, we need that medicine and we might not get it otherwise. We might not even get it with his help. I have no idea how he’s going to get it for us since everything has to go through the doctor. He’s healthy as a horse, and as fit a
s one, too. The more I try to rationalize it, I realize that there’s no way he’ll be able to get it.
With Lizzy fast asleep in my arms, I try not to think about what our fate might be if I end all of this. Even in her slumber, her chest rattles and she continues to cough. During the day, I thought I saw some blood in her phlegm. I hadn’t noticed it until I started coughing up some blood, so I began monitoring her more closely. She nodded off soon after she started spitting up and now it’s too dark to tell how bad it is.
If I give him the cold shoulder, he might not help us anymore. Everything is so bloody fucked up right now. It seems like no matter what I do, nothing is going to work in my favor. I’ll forever be the thief, the adulteress, and an unethical convict. None of what I’ve done or stood up for will matter because that’s all anyone will ever see when they hear my name or look at me, but I can’t bear the thought of losing my little girl. We could both die on this ship before we ever make it to Botany Bay.
Bloody Digby! is all I can think as I stand before our superior. Why did he have to go sticking his nose into my business?
“Officer Kent,” he begins. “It has come to my attention that you may be having relations with one of the convicts. How do you plead?”
I saw the writing on the wall when my commanding officer told me to report to his office. This could ruin my career and now I might not be able to get the medicine for Victoria and Lizzy. What the bloody hell was he thinking by turning me in? How the hell did he even know? It’s not like we’ve done anything in public besides talking, which is something we’re expected to do while supervising the convicts. It lets them know that we’re watching them and not to step out of line.
“Not guilty,” I answer. My stomach rolls with nausea as I try not to perspire. The penalty for a crime like this could be a lashing, punishable up to death. And right now, not only is my life on the line but so is Victoria’s and Lizzy’s. I must think of them or I will not get through this.
Focus, Matthew. I remind myself. Digby is a bloody fool and no one takes him seriously.
“Another officer has come forward with information that states otherwise.” He removes a scroll from his desk drawer and begins looking it over. Oh, how I’d love to know what is written on it. “There have been claims of you harassing a female convict while on laundry duty and instances of you speaking to her privately.”
His eyes cut up from the paper, giving me a deadpan stare as he awaits my response. My mind works at warp speed to come up with a solid answer that’s semi-believable but the words fail to come out.
“Do you know the punishment for this?” He glares over the paper.
“Yes,” I answer. “Let me assure you that no inappropriate behaviors have occurred, Sir. Never have I harassed any of the convicts, nor have I presented any misconduct.”
“Explain,” he says, inching over his desk, crowding my space.
“There was a single instance where I did have to speak to one of the female convicts privately, but that’s because I was trying to obtain information on another prisoner, Sir.” His mouth twists as his glinting eyes demand more information. “There were rumors of sexual misconduct occurring between some of the male and female convicts, Sir, so I was trying to investigate before bringing it to your attention to ensure that I had all of the facts.”
He huffs as though he doesn’t believe me.
“It’s true, Sir! The tiny wooden slats in the walls separating the males and females? I overheard some of the male prisoners bragging about sticking their penises through it and receiving oral sex from some of the female inmates.”
His brows arch with curiosity. “And was it true?”
“She couldn’t confirm it, Sir. According to her, she’d never seen it but she spends a lot of time up on deck and taking care of some of the ill prisoners when she’s down in the prison hulks.”
“And what is the name of this convict?” He asks as he looks over the scroll.
I have no idea if Digby named her or not but I have to take a gamble. If I admit that it’s Victoria, he’ll have the others keep a close eye on her to ensure we have zero privacy and that’s not something that I’m willing to give up. It would make it near impossible to see her, talk to her, or get close to her.
“Charlotte Coombs,” I blurt out. It’s the first name that pops into my head because she’s always on deck helping with laundry and cooking, and she and Victoria are often together. I’m almost positive that it’s her best friend because she doesn’t associate with many people besides Charlotte.
The instant her name leaves my tongue, my stomach twists in knots hoping he doesn’t know that I’m lying. I also don’t want to put Charlotte or Robert under the microscope either. The penalty for lying to a commanding officer would ensure a public lashing—at a bare minimum. “But, as I said, she’s a model convict and I believe her.”
His steely eyes stare into mine and I can feel my heart leap to my throat. Does he know I’m lying? I dry my sweaty palms on my pant legs, praying that he doesn’t know a name. Seconds seem like hours as his gaze burns a hole through me. The silence is deafening and intensifies the sound of my heart beating in my eardrums.
“Charlotte Coombs?” He questions, giving away nothing in his tone.
“Yes, Sir,” I nod, doubling down on my lie.
“Interesting that you’d say her name. Her name has come up recently in other talks. This is something that will need to be addressed.”
Not wanting to get her or my friend in trouble, I quickly assure him that everything is fine. “If I may, Sir, I believe it was just the men bragging, making things up. I can’t see how it would be possible, nor why any of the women would go through with such an act. The men have nothing to offer them. I was merely investigating to find out if there was anything to the claims. It’ll be complete chaos once we reach the shore.”
He nods in agreement. “You’re right about that, Marine. It’ll be bloody impossible to keep the convicts separated once we reach land. I fear for what will happen to those women. The men outnumber them by almost 3 to 1 and we don’t have enough crew to protect the ladies.”
All I can see is red as my adrenaline spikes. Thinking of someone raping Victoria once we reach the island enrages me.
The thought of someone claiming her innocent body infuriates me. I’ll kill the first man who touches her.
And if one of these animals tried to come near the baby? They’d die a slow, painful death. First, I would tie him up and cut him a few hundred times so that he’d slowly begin to bleed out. After that, I’d cut away his jaw so that he couldn’t scream for help before mutilating the rest of his body. His dick would most certainly be chopped off before I shoved it down his throat so he could choke to death as he bled out.
“Sir, you have my word that I will do everything in my power to protect every woman and child once we arrive on the island. No woman will be harmed under my watch,” I vow.
“You’re a good man, Kent,” he walks around the desk, patting me on the back. “I’m sorry to have taken your time for this misunderstanding.”
“It’s no problem at all, Sir. I appreciate the fact that you took the time to look into the matter,” I lie. I’d like to go knock Digby’s teeth down his throat but, right now, I want to be near Victoria.
I have to be near her and make sure she’s okay. Having her in my presence brings me comfort and after the horrific images that were just in my mind, I need to know that she’s safe.
I also need to try to get some medicine for her and Lizzy. Their illness has to be getting worse and it’s been almost a week since I’ve seen her.
“Sir,” I say, spinning around before I go. “I was wondering if I might be able to schedule an appointment with the doctor. Do you know if he has any patients right now?” I fake a cough pretending to be ill.
“Are you sick, Marine?” He says, coming closer to me.
Instinctively, I back away as I cross my forearm over my mouth and cough into it. “It’s
probably nothing but I want to get it checked out.”
My trick works and he stops dead in his tracks. “The doctor has been pretty backed up lately but you might want to knock on his door, even if you don’t have an appointment. You know our officers always come first.”
I nod. “Thank you, Sir.”
Making my way to his cabin, I try to practice coughing a few more times before I reach the door. It doesn’t sound nearly as bad as Victoria’s but it’ll have to do.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Come in,” the doctor says.
Opening the door, I fake another cough. “Arvo, Dr. Milton,” I say, wiping my nose on my sleeve.
“Afternoon,” he returns my greeting. “You don’t sound too good.”
Shaking my head, I say, “No, I’m not. I’ve got this cough and a runny nose.”
“Sit down,” he orders. “Let’s have a look at you.”
Taking a seat next to his desk of supplies, I watch him as he begins examining me. His fingertips feel along my throat for any signs of swelling before placing his stethoscope against my chest.
“Deep breath,” he says.
I take in a shallow breath to make it seem like it’s hard to breathe. “Sorry, doc, that’s all I’ve got in me.”
Moving his stethoscope around, he listens to my heart and lungs. “Look up at me,” he takes out a small light, shining it in my eyes. After continuing with my checkup, he says, “You don’t sound as bad as you seem.”
“That’s because I came to you straight away, doc. You should hear some of the others hacking and coughing their heads off. Thought it’d be best to get to you as quickly as possible to get some medicine before it sets in too bad.”
He nods. “I see. The thing is, Marine, I only give medicine to those who really need it and are strong enough to survive their illness. No point in wasting meds on those who don’t need it or can’t make it.”
