“Eh, no. Not really,” said Adam. “Then again, I think I told you I don’t really believe in those fortune-telling acts.”
Stela lowered her gaze and said, “It is probably for the best that you do not let these things worry you. Madame Endora only sees what is before her, but much may be hidden from her view.” She discreetly winked at Adam. “And do not forget that we can also offer you protection.”
“For a price,” said Adam.
Stela shrugged and gave him a half smile. “Everyone has to work to eat. We just work in different trades than you. My father has been dead for a very long time, and my mother has been able to take care of my sister and myself with this business.”
Martin obviously hadn’t forgotten why he brought Adam along, and it wasn’t so he could engage in a lengthy dialogue with his date.
“Tell me, sweetheart, can gypsies send dreams to someone?”
The initial look of confusion on Stela’s face told both Adam and Martin she had no idea what he was talking about, but she quickly gave him a clever answer.
“I suppose one might be able to suggest a pleasant dream to their lover, if that’s what you mean.”
Martin flirtatiously raised his eyebrows and said, “Hmm… That’s interesting, because you know Adam here, he said he had a dream last night and you were in it.”
Stela turned out her lips in surprise and she blushed. “Oh? I am not sure that I know what to say about that. I can assure you that I did not send him any dreams.”
Adam was irritated Martin had not kept that to himself. “Oh, it was nothing inappropriate, miss. Just a very strange dream. Lots of flying around from here to there and whatnot.”
Stela nodded and smiled. “Oh, I see.”
Martin leaned on the table of potions. “You know, milady, you’re like a dream yourself.”
This time Adam couldn’t help it. He rolled his eyes. “Listen, I think I’m going to leave you two to enjoy the party. I hadn’t planned to stay long tonight anyway—just wanted to stop by and see what was going on out here.”
“You gon’ walk, Fletcher?” asked Martin.
“Unless you want to let me take your cart,” said Adam with a grin.
“Walk safely,” said Martin, throwing his hand up in a wave. “See you tomorrow.”
“I hope to see you again,” said Stela. “We are not bad as you might think.” She tipped her head and almost looked sorry.
Adam wasn’t sure how to take that, but he knew he better start heading back to town before it got too dark.
Chapter Thirteen
SATURDAY MORNING ADAM WORKED QUICKLY through his chores. As much as he would’ve liked to have the rest of the day for leisure, there were still barrels to be made before the first of October, which was just five days away.
When he started down the stairs to the warehouse, he heard his grandfather and Boaz arguing about something.
“Why don’t you send Adam to go see where he is?” said Boaz. “He’s done with his chores now. Look.” Boaz pointed to him from the coopering area.
Emmanuel turned in his direction and said, “Have you any idea where Martin is this morning?”
Adam shook his head. “No, sir. I sure don’t.”
“Did you see him after work yesterday?”
Adam nodded. “I did. We had supper at the tavern.” He suddenly remembered what Jackson had told him the night before. “And oh, hey… Speaking of the tavern, last night I found out they’re having a town meeting this evening at six. Everyone is invited. It has to do with our town’s exotic visitors. Anyway, after supper I went with him out to Town Creek.”
He conveniently avoided specifically mentioning that they had gone back to the gypsy camp, but Emmanuel seemed to fully understand what his grandson meant. His face very quickly turned more angry than worried. Adam knew there was a time when his grandfather would’ve been angry right away if one of his workers didn’t turn up on time, but since Ed Willis’s murder the previous year, Emmanuel’s reaction to late employees now tended to be one of concern. Still, the old man had his limit, and Adam admitting that he and Martin had gone back to the gypsy camp, in spite of all they had talked about, most definitely crossed the line.
“I want you to go right now to his house and find out why he is not here.”
“May I take Rex?” asked Adam, referring to Emmanuel’s horse.
“No, you may not,” Emmanuel responded matter-of-factly.
Adam knew better than to argue. He ran to Martin’s house just as quickly as his feet would take him. The truth was he was worried about his friend. He knew Martin did a lot of stupid things. He silently prayed the whole way that he wouldn’t find something like Elliot found when he went looking for Ed Willis one morning last December.
When he got to Martin’s house, he banged on the door. There was no answer, but after banging a few more times he heard Martin’s voice from inside. He tried to open the front door but it was bolted shut, so he ran around to the side of the house, where there was an open window. He saw Martin inside, stretched out on an old settee with a bucket in front of him on the floor.
“What’s the matter with you?” Adam asked, concerned.
Martin was barely able to lift his head to look at his friend. “What do you think is wrong with me? I’m sick.”
“What is it?”
“What the rest of them boys had I reckon.”
“You want me to do anything? Get you anything?”
“Go get Dr. Taylor. See if he can give me somethin. I feel like I’m about to die.”
“I’ll be back as fast as I can,” said Adam.
* * *
ADAM SOON FOUND HIMSELF OVER near the graveyard again, looking for Dr. Taylor. The physician lived about two blocks north and then two blocks west from Martin’s house, over at the corner of Craven and Broad Streets—just beyond the graveyard, in fact. The whole way there, Adam wished he had his grandfather’s horse instead of having to run everywhere on foot. Normally, he didn’t mind walking places, but in this case, with Martin as bad off as he was, he hated not having the use of Rex.
When he finally made it to the physician’s place, he was frustrated to find the house was empty. In fact, he was quite frankly surprised, especially considering Dr. Taylor had a wife and children, who were usually home.
He walked to the house of the nearest neighbor, hoping he might know something. In this case he was relieved to see the man out working in the garden next to his home.
“Hello, sir!” he said, waving as he approached him.
The sandy-haired man walked towards him. He looked like he was around forty years old. “Good day to you.”
“Sir,” said Adam, “I was just at Dr. Taylor’s house—I’ve got a friend who’s sick—but it looks like no one is home.”
The man clearly looked surprised. “No one? His wife and children aren’t there?”
Adam shook his head. “No, sir. So I take it you have no idea where I might find him, or any of them?”
The man shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not. Just saw him last night. My boy isn’t well. He came over to see him but said we’d just have to wait it out.”
“He didn’t give him anything to take?”
“Naw. Said he’d throw up anything he swallows while he’s in this state. Whatever it is has got to just work its way out of him, and Lord willing it will.”
“How’s your son today?”
“He’s sleeping right now. We’re keepin the ol’ bucket near his bed, though. It’s been a rough past several hours since last night.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Sounds like your son and my friend may have the same thing.”
“Maybe,” said the man.
“Well, if you see Dr. Taylor, would you please let him know that Martin Smith is sick? Tell him he lives over on Pollock Street.”
The man nodded. “Will do.”
When Adam left there to head into town, he re
alized he hadn’t even bothered to introduce himself, nor did he know the man’s name. Oh well, he thought. Maybe he won’t think me too rude.
He checked around as many places as he could think of in hopes of locating the doctor, or at least someone from his family, but they were nowhere to be found. What he did find, however, was that there were many residents of Beaufort who were sick and in need of the doctor’s care. Some had already been visited by him, but many others were at a loss, just as Adam currently was.
He returned to Martin’s house and gave his friend the bad news. Martin was so weak and sickly that he seemed unmoved by the development. Adam hated to leave him home alone in this condition, but he needed to go back to the warehouse to tell his grandfather. The men would likely agree on some schedule to check in on him at least.
Just before he left Martin’s place, Adam went out to the small barn and pasture behind the house to check on Martin’s horse. He knew, based on his friend’s condition, the animal had not likely been given fresh water or hay since the day before. The horse usually enjoyed grazing in the field, but Martin also gave him a ration of hay every day. While he knew he or one of the others from the shipping company would be checking in on Martin at least a couple of times a day until he was better, he still asked Martin’s neighbor to keep an eye out to see if the animal needed anything. He was relieved the neighbor seemed happy to help.
ADAM RETURNED TO THE WAREHOUSE and told his grandfather and the others all he had found out about Martin being sick, as well as the different folks in town.
“Everett Bell is sick, too?” said Emmanuel. “Lord willing this plague won’t spread through his household. He has a wife, children, and grandchildren all living out at his place, not to mention servants. And you said there were other families?”
“Yes, right many of them,” said Adam. “I wouldn’t have known, except when I went to look for Dr. Taylor, no one was home. I checked around town, but unfortunately no one had seen him or his family since very early today.”
“Does it seem like this illness is fairly new in town? Or has it been going around?”
“I don’t know for sure, but it seems like it’s just cropped up in the last few days. I heard of at least one family where it’s hit all of them. Dr. Taylor visited them early this morning, but that’s the last anybody’s heard from him. Apparently, the wife got sick first, within a short time of finishing supper. Her husband and their children began to show symptoms within an hour or two later. Their Negro woman went to fetch the doctor, and he came straightaway.”
Emmanuel shook his head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. This is not good.”
“Could be that the doc has taken his family out of town so they don’t end up with this plague,” Boaz suggested. “A hazard of the profession I reckon, but he’s still got a family to look out for.”
“And his wife is about half his age and is expecting,” said Emmanuel. “Probably got nervous this morning when he saw how quickly this sickness is spreading.”
“Maybe,” said Adam. “Can’t say I’d blame him. The Negro woman I spoke with at the house of that family I was telling you about said the doctor didn’t have any medicine he could prescribe for this illness. Told the same thing to his neighbor who had the sick son.”
Emmanuel looked worried. “Let’s think. What might be the common factor in all of these different illnesses?”
“Martin was out drinkin with Jones and the others Wednesday night. Might be they were still contagious,” suggested Boaz.
“And Martin was the one who delivered cargo to Everett Bell’s shop,” said Elliot. “What day was that?”
“Thursday,” said Adam. “Same day I took items to Simon Moore’s place.”
“You said Simon Moore’s shop was closed, didn’t you?” asked Emmanuel.
Adam nodded. “Yes, but it’s because he had a broken arm.”
“When did that happen?”
“Apparently, it happened not long after I left. Mr. Moore was putting away merchandise, when he fell. Fractured this bone up here,” said Adam, motioning to his upper arm. “His wife says it’s because of the gypsy woman’s curse. Evidently, she warned Mrs. Moore that danger would come to them from afar.”
“I wonder if he had handled much of the merchandise,” said Emmanuel.
“What does that have to do with it?” Adam asked.
“There might’ve been a virus on it.”
“But then wouldn’t we all have gotten sick?” Adam countered. “We all sorted that merchandise and got it ready for the customers.”
Emmanuel nodded. “You’re right. I suppose all we can do now is wait and see if anyone else falls ill—and just pray that they don’t.”
Adam reminded his grandfather about the town meeting at the Topsail and asked Emmanuel if he was going. The old man said he wasn’t and that he didn’t think it wise to go, considering all of the talk about the gypsy’s curse that was going around. He told Adam it would be a good idea if he went, though.
Adam asked if he could borrow his horse cart. This time Emmanuel was happy to oblige.
Chapter Fourteen
WHEN ADAM ARRIVED AGAIN AT Martin’s house, he saw his friend was even worse off. Jones was there. He had come by to see Martin and hadn’t realized he was sick.
“When’d you get here?” Adam asked him.
“’Bout an hour ago, mate. He looks right ragged, don’t he?”
“You think it’s the same thing y’all had on the Gypsy?”
Jones shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe. The doc been by to see him?”
“No. I tried to get him over here earlier today, but I can’t find him. Seems he might’ve taken his family and left town.”
Jones clicked his teeth. “Well, I don’t reckon it makes too much difference. When we was sick, he couldn’t give us nothin. Said we’d have to wait it out. Reckon that’s what he’ll have to do, too.” He kicked at the end of Martin’s bed. “Right, mate?”
Martin weakly waved his hand in Jones’s direction.
“Maybe you ought to run out to Town Creek. Them gypsies are sellin all kinds of medicines I heard,” said Jones. “They might have somethin that’ll help him feel better, or get over this thing quicker.”
Adam wasn’t at all in favor of that idea. “Eh… I don’t know. I really don’t trust that crowd.”
Then Martin turned his head in Adam’s direction and said, “Would you please go check? You don’t have to talk to the old woman. Just ask Stela. Maybe she has somethin that could help me. I feel like I’m dyin.”
Adam inhaled sharply and then sighed. “Hmm… I reckon I can go. I’m not happy about it, but if you think it’ll help.”
“He looks pretty desperate, mate,” said Jones.
“You staying here with him then?”
Jones nodded. “I will.”
Adam left right away.
WHEN HE ARRIVED AT THE gypsy camp, it looked different than it had on his two earlier visits. Then again it was still daytime.
He noticed even more families had arrived, but unlike two days earlier there was no evidence that any parties would take place this night. Everyone seemed busy about ordinary day-to-day business. Some women were preparing food; others were taking clothes down from lines that had been strung around the camp. There was a farrier among them, hard at work rasping the hooves of one of the dapple horses.
Madame Endora’s tent was still set up, and so was Stela’s booth of potions. Thank God, thought Adam. He strided purposefully over to see her, but when he got there he realized the girl inside was not who he was seeking.
“Good day t’ya, sir,” said a young woman who from behind looked remarkably similar to Stela yet sounded distinctly Irish.
It caught Adam by surprise. “Uh, I’m looking for Stela. Is she here?”
“’Fraid not, sir,” said the young woman. “She’s gone washin laundry she has.”
Adam looked over by the water’s edge and scanned the sh
ore to see if he spotted her.
“Where did she go?” he asked, scanning the shore one more time. “I don’t see her.”
“Course not. She wouldn’t be washin her clothes over there, now would she?”
What in the world is she talking about? thought Adam. He had no idea why, but he hadn’t come to talk about the best places to do the laundry with this girl.
“Is there somethin I can help you with, or did you need Stela in particular?”
“I actually came to see if she might have a certain kind of medicine.”
“What sort of medicine?” the girl asked.
“I have a friend who’s sick. I was hoping she might have something that would help him.”
The young woman sorted through the various bottles that were still out on the table at the booth, as well as some that were stored in a crate behind it.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t usually work with these. I’ll get someone to help you, though. Be right back.”
She went around the back of the large tent used by Madame Endora and was gone for a couple of minutes. Adam wondered if it might be a bad idea that he came here. Just as he was about to leave, the young woman returned with an older woman at her side. It took Adam a moment to realize it was Madame Endora. He had never seen her in the light of day. Surprisingly, she didn’t look nearly as exotic or mystical as she had the night she told him his fortune.
Her skin looked sallow and her eyes small. Apparently, during the day she didn’t always wear such heavy eye makeup. She was still wearing the same big, dangly earrings, but without the jeweled scarf over her hair, they just looked out of place rather than part of the gypsy attire. Her hair was tightly pulled back into a bun—strictly utilitarian.
He wanted to turn right around and leave, but he didn’t want to let the woman know she got under his skin. He was here as a favor to Martin, and that was it.
“Amelia tells me you were in need of a medicine,” she said to him.
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