by Cylin Busby
I returned to the boots of the old man and curled in against his blanket, cozy warm and tummy full. Perhaps all was not lost! Tomorrow would be another day; I would find Colin and then my mates. I felt my eyes close gently, listening to the sound of the old man’s snuffled snores—a friendly reminder of the sailors’ quarters aboard the Melissa Rae.
The next thing I knew, the early dawn filled the livestock stalls with dusty beams of daylight. As I stretched, I realized I was no longer on the old sailor’s blanket, but instead had been put down on a mat of hay. My tail brushed something, and I turned, quickly, only to see a series of closely set lines behind me.
Bars?
I spun around and saw the same on all sides. I was surrounded by thin bars—not too unlike the cage that had held the snakes aboard the Bristol, only now it was I looking out instead of looking in!
I put my paw out between two of the bars and found that it fit easily, but only for a short distance. I used my claws to grasp the hay around me. But it was no use: I was trapped.
I began to meow for help. Perhaps the old sailor was still nearby and could get me out. How had I gotten into this mess? Had I fallen into a cage? Been trapped somehow? I paced the small space, digging up the hay at the bottom only to find more bars beneath me.
Finally, a shadow moved through the dawn light and approached. A man knelt down and I could see, quite close to me, the face of the old sailor—I was saved at last!
“Morning to you, sailor,” he greeted me, then dangled a fish head over the cage, bones still attached through the tail. It was the same meal I’d eaten the night before, only remnants left now. “You must be ready for grub.” I watched his fingers move over a metal latch, sliding it open, before he swung a small door at the top of the cage. I lunged, getting my face and front paws out quickly—I couldn’t wait to be free of this horrible trap! But just as fast I felt his meaty palm press the top of my head back down into the cage. He shoved the fish head in, then slammed the small door and fastened it tight.
“That should keep,” he said, wiping his hands on his pants as he stood. “Look sharp, won’t you? Me mates will be round to have a gander later.”
He moved away from the cage and back down the row of stalls, toward the open doorway. I could now see light pouring in from outside as the sun came up and the docks came alive. Around me the animals started to wake and make their usual noises. I glanced down the rows of stalls and realized that I was now like them: trapped and kept here against my will. What did the sailor mean that his mates would be by to have a look at me? What was he keeping me here for?
I turned round and round, searching for a way to escape. But bars met me at every side. I pushed against them with the top of my head and scratched at them, hissing. With one paw I reached out again, grasping at straws of hay. It was useless!
I paced inside the tiny cage, turning circles around the fish head that had been left for me. While I had woken hungry, I now had no appetite. I had to get out! I was due back on the docks to await my own crew, or for Colin to find me and bring me to them. No one would know where I was, tucked away in a cage in the back of this livestock barn. I began to cry again, meowing at the top of my lungs, but this time I was sure no one could hear my mews over the snuffs and sounds of the other animals. I was trapped, and there seemed no way out.
How many hours passed as I sat, paced, meowed, and generally fretted inside that small cage, I do not know. I only had the sun as my guide, and I watched as it moved from the doorway of the livestock barn to directly overhead to around behind. At one point, about midmorning, a man did come through and throw some feed to the animals in the stalls, but they were in the front portion of the barn, not tucked into the back as I was. I meowed as strongly as I could, but his head never even turned in my direction before he was out again, sliding the great door shut behind him.
The fish head the old sailor had given me was starting to let off a stinking smell. I tried to take a few bites, but in my general sadness I had no stomach for it and decided instead to bury it under the hay beneath my feet. As the barn grew dim and then dark, I waited, pacing in my tiny prison, for the old sailor to return, but he seemed to have forgotten me. How terrible! Worse than being caged was being locked up and forgotten. Would I starve to death here—never to see my mates again?
At long last I put my head down on my paws and fell into a restless sleep, thinking over my current quandary and my adventures at sea. At every turn, no matter how perilous, there had always been a way to survive. But now, in this trap, I could see no way out. I wondered what the captain would do, how he would solve this, but came up with no answers.
I woke to a shrill sound that set me instantly on my four paws. A whistle! Could it be the captain, calling me? I paced the cage and reached my paws through the bars again, grasping at the hay with my claws. Had I dreamed the sound of the whistle, or was it real? The barn had grown dark and the animals now seemed to be sleeping, so I perked my ears high and listened. It came again, clearly, as if the man himself was walking just outside—the high-pitched fast whistle. Oh, Captain! He was searching for me, but how would he ever find me here?
I set to meowing and growling as loudly as I could, aiming my voice to the doors, where the whistle had come from. All he needed to do was hear me and I knew I would be rescued! But as the minutes ticked away, and my voice grew hoarse and raspy, there was no sign of him at the door. I still continued to mew feebly, pausing to see if I could hear his whistle in return, but it did not come.
Then, just as I was about to give up hope, I saw the big door to the livestock barn slide open and some figures appear in shadow. I was saved! I knew the captain would come for me, and at last he had.
But as the figures drew near, I saw all at once that my rescue was not to be. I looked up eagerly, expecting to see the captain’s warm face and blue eyes, but was greeted instead with the gnarled face of the old sailor who had trapped me.
“There he be, mates,” he said, lifting the cage from the barn floor and holding it up. “A healthy one, just a lad still—lots of years left in ’im.”
One of the strangers with him held up a lantern and peered into my cage. “He looks fit. How much you want? Say he’s a mouser, that so?”
“He’s caught all type of vermin—you know the boss won’t have any eating through his feed. This one’s a ratter, I swear on it,” said the old sailor. The cheek of him, I thought, when I realized what he was doing! I was a ratter, to be sure, but this old sailor had never seen me catch anything.
“Funny smell off ’im, innit?” the man behind the sailor said. “Smells o’ rot, he does.”
“Ah, that’s just his dinner—fish he loves, just that, mates, nothing more,” the old salt was quick to explain.
“Has he white paws on?” The first man leaned in again with the lantern. “Ha! And you say he’s a ratter; there’s no chance of that!”
“Come on, Henry, let’s off—this old salt’s having a laugh,” the other man said, pulling the fellow with the lantern away from my cage.
“I tell you, as I live, he’s a ratter, he is!” the old sailor exclaimed, watching the two men as they walked toward the doors. “But the price, don’t you want to know the price of ’im?”
But the men just tossed a laugh over their shoulders, and I watched as the door slid open and they left without a backward glance.
“You stupid animal,” the old sailor hissed at me through the bars. I backed away from him, to the other side of the cage. “Laughing at me now, are they? I’ll get a pretty penny for you, I will.” With that he dropped my cage with a thump back down onto the hay and walked away without a glance, through the doors and no doubt in search of another buyer.
When the cage was dropped, I thought I heard the top door rattle a bit on its hinges, and I reached up with my paw now to feel around the edges. It was securely closed, and I could not reason how the man had opened it before. I lay back down, my head on my paws, and found my mind traveling to th
e day aboard the Bristol when Leo Bear had shown me the snakes in their cage. I had never figured how he had managed to get that snake up to the deck without setting them all loose, but now I puzzled it over.
Suddenly I stood up straight. He must have opened the cage, and then closed it again. It was the only way! And if he could do it, with his big, clumsy paws…I gingerly felt around the top of the cage again, to where the hinges were, then moved my paws over to the other side. There—a small metal pole was pushed through a hole. If I could move it back, the whole door would be free to swing open. I began to work it with my paws but found that my claws could get no hold on the metal. After batting at it for some time, I felt it move, perhaps only slightly.
I took a break and paced around the bars when my shoulders and legs grew weary. The sailors had been right; there was a foul smell coming from the bottom of my cage. I put my paws up again and continued to work on the small metal pole, moving it only slightly when my claws caught it just so. Leo Bear must have worked long and hard to get that snake out—I was only realizing now how much he must have disliked me to persevere!
But I vowed not to spend another night in this trap, and worked the metal latch until I felt my claws might bleed.
When the livestock barn door slid open again, letting in the morning light, I watched with fear, thinking that the old sailor would be back with more buyers who might take me aboard their ship. But instead it was just the man who fed the other animals. I was too weak and hungry to meow for him, my throat too dry to make any sound over a raspy mew. I lay in the bottom of the cage waiting for him to go before I set back to my work on the metal pole.
I put my face to the bars and tried to bite the pole, but I could get no traction, so instead I kept to my claws, batting it just fractions at a time. It was moving, and I could see that I was almost there, almost to freedom. If only I could move the metal before the old sailor returned…
As the sun rose higher in the sky, now over the barn, I worked and worked, taking no breaks. In my imagination I again heard the captain’s trademark whistle for me—short and fast, calling me to his side. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to hear that sound just one more time! I sighed and put my claws up to the metal pole, grasping over and over. The sound came again and I stood stock-still. Was it my imagination this time, or a real sound? Had I gone mad, like poor Sean had done on the longboat? I perked my ears and paced, listening, but heard only the bustle of the docks coming in through the open door, now in full force—horse hooves and men hollering, all manner of business going on. But no whistle.
Just when I was determined to declare myself done for, the whistle came once more—there was no mistaking it! I found the strength I needed. My paws flew up, furiously batting at the metal with a speed I did not know that I possessed. Then, with a squeak of metal on metal, the bar at last slid free, and I pushed my nose against the door, flipping it open fast with a metal clang. I leapt from the cage like a flying fish off the surface of the sea and lit through the barn as if Leo Bear himself were chasing me! Out the doors and onto the cobblestone street, racing to the docks without any mind to the horses and carts that passed over me as I slid in the still-muddy roads.
Up and down the Coburn Dock I went, chasing the sound of that whistle, but I did not see the captain or Colin or my mates. Instead, horses and carts clomped by me; men loading and unloading the ships yelled to each other. I stopped in the noise and confusion to perk my ears and listen only for one sound, blocking everything else out. At last it came again! But I had moved farther from it than I had been when I was in the barn.
I raced back to the top of Coburn Dock, where it met the streets, and searched the crowds for any sign of the captain, dodging and weaving through the footfalls of the sailors as they came to and fro. I studied each boot that passed me, hoping to recognize one as that of Colin or the captain himself. But soon the boots began to blur and all looked alike; I wouldn’t have known the captain’s feet if he’d stepped over me. Now I was frantic—if I missed my chance to answer his whistle, would he ever come again? Or would I be left here forever, on my own on the docks?
My eyes seemed to betray me when, at last, I spotted a most beautiful sight: Melissa! Could it be? In a light blue dress and bonnet to match, a hand held at her forehead to block the sun as she searched the docks. What was she looking for? The Melissa Rae, perhaps—or any sign of her father? My heart ached to think that she did not know—how could she know?—that her father’s ship was lost, and that he had been taken away to who knows where.
I worked my way through the crowd, weaving between feet and staying close to the curb to avoid the horses’ hooves. I kept my eyes glued on Melissa, believing it was she who had whistled, until I drew closer and saw a man move out from behind her, a tall man with a hat upon his head, a small braid of light hair, a flash of ice-blue eyes. The captain! Wearing the same as he had worn the day I’d seen him last, and looking none the better, but there, all the same! He raised his fingers to his mouth and let out the whistle I longed to hear, now so close to me that I could nearly feel it.
I kept my eyes upon them as I raced, without caution, through the legs and boots that came at me, to Melissa’s side, and it was she who saw me first. “Father! It’s Jacob, it is him! He is so changed, I barely know him!” She scooped me up, my muddy paws and all, and held me to her.
“It is indeed,” the captain said, his eyes getting that crinkled look they only took on when he was very, very happy. He put a hand under my chin and looked into my face. “How you’ve survived days and nights on these rough docks, there’s no way to know, but well done, lad, well done.”
With Melissa’s arms tight around me, my heart beat fast and my purring rattled in my chest. I could not remember a time when I had been happier. Only moments before, I had been trapped in a cage, and now I was back in the arms of the girl who had saved me as a runt, and with her father, my captain. How quickly my fortune had changed!
The captain guided us across the busy street and into the city of Liverpool, walking with his head lowered and at a fast pace. His limp was noticeable now, as he moved quickly, and it brought back many bad memories. But those were banished when I looked into his ruddy face and saw the smile that was plastered there. I looked up to Melissa’s face and took in her pink cheeks and glossy hair—whatever had ailed her when we set sail seemed to have passed, and she was well. I nestled my head into the space beneath her chin and purred my delight.
As we rounded a corner and onto another busy street, a small boy—smaller than Melissa—was waving something over his head and yelling loud enough to startle me. “Heroes at sea! Read all about the mystery island!”
The captain stopped, dead in his tracks, to look at what the boy was holding. He took a paper from the stack next to the boy and held it up, showing Melissa. And there, on the very front, was a fine sketch that captured the likeness of the captain himself! The captain dropped a coin into the boy’s cup.
“Heroes at sea! Oh, Father!” Melissa leaned in and hugged him, sandwiching me between them.
When last I had seen my captain, he was being led away in shackles. Now a hero? Soon I would know the whole story of what had happened to my mates while we were parted.
“Come now, we mustn’t be later than we already are.” The captain tucked the paper beneath one arm and held Melissa’s elbow with the other as we moved through the crowds. I looked back over Melissa’s shoulder and saw many other passersby picking up the same paper from the young boy.
Within a few more turns we had arrived at a set of stone stairs that led up to a fine home, with planters full of flowers in the front windows and a flag flying outside the red door. As we entered, I was struck with a blast of warm air and divine smells—cooked meats and breads. My mouth began to water so, I thought I might drool. Melissa quickly bustled down a long, wood-paneled hallway that opened into a grand room brimming with people, with a warm fire in the corner and a feast laid out upon the table. It was as close to heaven
as any sea cat could wish for on land. There was only one thing missing….
All in the room turned to greet us as we entered, and a cheer quickly went up when they saw that I was in Melissa’s arms—“Ho, ho, hooray!”—and cups were raised. I dug my claws into Melissa’s shoulder, a bit overwhelmed at the greeting and searching the faces before me. Then happiness washed over me as my eyes found them, my best mates, Chippy and Moses, standing at the long table. Their clothing was fresh, their faces clear and happy. As if by some miracle, they had escaped the terrible men who had led them away from the Bristol. And not only that, they looked perhaps better than I had seen them since we set sail!
Moses moved around the table and came to Melissa, taking me from her arms. I noted, with embarrassment, that my paws had left dirt on the front of her very pretty blue dress, but she seemed not to mind one bit.
“If a cat has nine lives, this one must be on his last, I do declare!” Moses grinned, squeezing me a bit too tightly. “I’ve never been so pleased to see an old sea hand such as you.”
Just then the captain pulled the paper from under his arm and slapped it down onto the table. “There it is in black and white, men.”
Chippy was the first to pick up the newspaper. “A handsome likeness,” he said, before going on to read the article aloud for everyone to hear.
I did not understand every aspect of the case, but from what I could gather, my mates had been led straight to jail off the Bristol until a judge could hear the charges against them. While I had been locked in a cage in the livestock barn, Chippy, Moses, and the captain had spent the night in their own cage: jail. I felt quite terrible for them all at once.
