“Be happy you’ve got that,” Jeb says, opening the door.
“He said he wants to get off the boat,” a voice says from the shadows of the dock.
Jeb looks around, peering into the dark. “Yeah, well, what are you going to do about it?” His fingers dig into my arm.
I wonder that, too. The guys are beginning to haul the gangplank up into the boat, and there’s no turning around after that. After we set sail, I’m done for. My life as a law-abiding citizen is over, and I’ll probably be on the run from the sheriff for the rest of my livelong days.
Credit 28.10
Suddenly the boat shifts and I almost lose my balance. It’s Stinky Pete! He has one boot on the gangplank, one hand on a sailor’s collar, and the other hand on the ropes attached to the ramp. He lifts the sailor and dangles him over the water. The guy squirms more than Miss Wenzel’s favorite student, Marshall Curtis, slipping on a patch of ice.
I didn’t push him. Honest.
“You want me to drop you?” Stinky Pete asks the sailor. “Because I have no problem doing that.” He makes like he’s going to let go, and the fellow immediately stops moving. Stinky Pete focuses on Jeb. “Let the young man off the boat,” he says calmly.
Jeb lets go of me but takes a step toward Stinky Pete. “Don’t think I will,” he says. “Don’t think his father, the cap’n, would ’preciate that.” I’m not sure it matters to me what my dad would or wouldn’t appreciate. Not now that I might be stuck with him forever. “And I don’t ’preciate other people telling me what or what not to do,” Jeb adds.
“I don’t really care what you or what that sorry excuse for a man would or wouldn’t appreciate,” Stinky Pete says. He walks up the gangplank, still dragging the sailor by the collar. Jeb swallows, his Adam’s apple quivering. “Let’s ask Stan what he wants, shall we?”
I try to slide around Jeb but he juts out his arm to stop me. “You’re not going anywhere,” he says, never taking his eyes off Stinky Pete. Three men stand to the side, their fists clenched, knives glinting in the dim lantern light.
Stinky Pete takes a quick glance around and shoves one of the guys aside, forcing the other two to fall to the deck. They don’t seem like they’re in much of a rush to get up. He stomps onto the boat, still dragging the first sailor.
“Stan,” Stinky Pete asks, “what would you like?”
And I realize this is one of the 115 reasons I love this guy. No one ever asks me what I would like except him.
The other 114 reasons mainly have to do with reading together in the evening, playing cards with him on the front porch, laughing about something Granny said while we eat her pie, and just the fact that he likes me.
“I want to go home,” I say. “With you.”
Stinky Pete smiles. “There’s your answer, man,” he says to Jeb. Then he takes the sailor he’d been holding all this time and thrusts him hard at Jeb. Both men fall down. There’s all sorts of fumbling and rustling and men jostling all over the deck.
We turn toward home, a heaviness in my chest. What if I never see my dad again? Mama always says there’s a little bit of good in everyone, and I’ve been waiting to see that part in my dad.
A door slams open, making both Stinky Pete and me jolt midstep on the gangplank.
“Shtop! Lishen here, whoever you shink you are!” It’s my dad, weaving his way toward us. “Heesh comin’ wish me!” But he only gets a couple of steps through the door before he heaves his head over the side, losing his dinner in the process.
My dad, who was supposed to be my hero, isn’t who I imagined he would be. I like my imaginary version a whole lot better.
“You can’t choose your relatives, son,” Stinky Pete says, staring at my dad. “But you can choose your family.” He takes my hand and looks at me. “You know I wasn’t going to leave you here, right? I can’t be the only man at that boardinghouse, now, can I?” he adds, smiling.
I smile in return. What was I thinking? Captain Arthur Slater, hero of the seas, may be my father, but Stinky Pete makes a much better dad.
Also, I can’t leave him alone at that boardinghouse with all those bossy women. That would be like leaving a baby with a pack of hungry wolves.
Stinky Pete chuckles. “Only worse, right?” He pulls me into a hug. “Thanks for looking out for me,” he says.
I nod. Someone has to.
I was so tired last night, I don’t think I moved at all,” Mama says. Stinky Pete raises his eyebrows at me over his coffee. “I did have some odd dreams, however,” she adds.
Stinky Pete winks. “Yeah?” he asks. “What about?”
Mama sits down, leans her head on her hands, and looks at him. “You.” Stinky Pete chokes, his cheeks reddening. “And Stan,” she adds, kissing the top of my head before getting up.
I look at Stinky Pete. Does she know? Am I in trouble?
“You’re always in trouble,” Geri says. I didn’t think she was listening since her nose is buried in another medical book.
“I’m always listening,” she says, her eyes barely peeping over the cover.
“What was your dream about?” I ask.
Mama smiles, looking down at the oatmeal she’s stirring. “Let’s just say I like the two of you together.” This time her cheeks flush.
Stinky Pete’s grin is so big it swallows half his face.
“Alice,” Granny says, bustling in, “Archibald will be here in a half hour. Don’t you think you should make yourself presentable?” She straightens the salt and pepper shakers on the table before grabbing an apron.
Stinky Pete falls into himself like a collapsible chair at the mention of Mr. Crutchley. But Mama doesn’t even turn around and barely acknowledges Granny.
“He won’t be coming over, Mother.”
Granny stops midtie of her apron. “What—what do you mean?” she splutters.
“I mean, he won’t be coming over,” Mama says. She adds salt to the pan and continues stirring.
Credit 29.1
Does this mean what I think it means?
“But—but…,” Granny stammers. “But what about money for the house? What about Stan’s education? His juvenile delinquency?” Her voice sounds like the hum of a teakettle right before it boils. “What about removing him from the influence of his father?”
Stinky Pete suddenly perks up. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, right, Stan?” he says, nudging me. Honestly, I don’t know if he’s more excited about Mr. Crutchley no longer being around or my dad leaving.
“Both,” Geri says. “But we’re all glad the Wanderer was nowhere to be seen this fine morning. Frankly, I was getting tired of babysitting you.”
“How do you know it’s gone? You haven’t even left the house,” I ask. I choose to ignore the babysitting remark, it’s so ridiculous. Sometimes being a man means ignoring women.
“Oh, I would not recommend that if I were you,” Geri warns. “Women don’t like being ignored.” She licks her finger and turns the page of her book, and a chill runs up my spine. “Many a man has died from ignoring a woman,” she says.
I clear my throat and quickly change the subject. “But how do you know my da—the Wanderer is gone?”
“I went to the store to get some milk and ran into Madge.” She shakes her head in admiration. “That girl knows what’s going on, that’s for sure. A woman after my own heart.”
Mama sets a plate of eggs and bacon and toast in front of Stinky Pete. He beams at her like she’s saved his life.
“So,” Granny says, looking at Stinky Pete and Mama as if there’s some invisible thread between them and she can’t quite decide how to cut it. “How on earth do you plan on paying for this place?” She snorts.
“We’ve got it figured out, right, Peter?” Mama says. Her eyes don’t leave Stinky Pete’s. He just nods a goofy, happy nod.
He has the same look on his face as Cuddy when he’s talking to Geri.
Oh, my good Lord above. Stinky Pete and Mama are in love.
>
Geri throws her book down and her hands in the air. “You can’t be serious, Stan.” She leans toward me and peers into my eyes. It’s uncomfortable.
She simply can’t handle it when I know something and she doesn’t.
“Stan, your mother and Mr. McLachlan have been courting for the last three months,” she says, planting her hands on the table before standing up.
“Wh-what about when she went on that ride with Mr. Crutchley?” I stammer.
“Oh, that.” Geri waves a hand. “You had your mother all in a panic. She lost her senses for a minute.”
Mama nods sheepishly. “I did,” she says. “I’m sorry, Peter.” He takes both of her hands in his.
Credit 29.2
Geri points back and forth between Mama and Stinky Pete like she’s tapping out a message on a typewriter.
“Will you two just make it official already?” Geri asks. “It’s obvious you like each other. Just get it over with. Then at least Stan can stop obsessing about whether or not Mr. Crutchley is going to be his stepfather.”
Stinky Pete grins at Mama. Then he does something completely unexpected.
He falls onto one knee. Right there in the middle of the kitchen.
Is he okay? Is Stinky Pete okay?
I move to help the guy back on his feet when Geri grabs my arm. I am the only one concerned for Stinky Pete’s health, apparently. So much for the doctor, here.
“Don’t you do a thing,” Geri says through her teeth. “He’s going to ask her to marry him.”
What? People actually do that?
“Alice Nelson Slater”—he clears his throat—“will you make me the happiest man in the world and accept my hand in marriage?” Stinky Pete asks. He’s got one of Mama’s hands in his, and he’s shaking like a dry autumn leaf.
Mama doesn’t move. She stands with a wooden spoon in her hand like she’s ready to knight Stinky Pete.
I hold my breath. What if she says no? She can’t say no! But what if she does?
Don’t say no. Don’t say no.
Mama drops the spoon, pulls Stinky Pete to his feet, and throws her arms around him.
I’m pretty sure that’s a yes. I clap. I’m so happy, I clap and clap and maybe hoot and holler.
Geri claps, too. Even Granny, leaning against the kitchen sink, has a hand over her mouth, hiding a smile. A smile so big she can’t even hide it.
I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Granny smile before. Her face is probably cracking and that’s why she has to hide it behind her hand.
Stinky Pete pulls me into a giant bear hug, big enough to hold me and Mama. Then Geri. And even Granny joins in.
I peek at her face. It’s wrinkly, but surprisingly it didn’t crack.
Credit 29.3
The last day of school is my favorite. I was looking forward to hanging out with Stinky Pete, but then he reminded me that he has a job. So I was looking forward to hanging out with Eugene “Genius” Malone, but then he reminded me that he now has a job maintaining the Methodist Episcopal Church. So I was looking forward to sitting on the front porch eating bacon all summer, but then Granny reminded me that I have a job, too.
Mrs. Law asked if I could continue watching Cuddy over the summer. His mother is a bit under the weather.
“She’s going to have a baby, Stan,” Cuddy whispers. “But we’re not supposed to talk about it in front of anyone.”
Of course not! Who cares about babies?
“I love babies,” Madge says from across the room. My respect for her as a bully just dropped to zero. “They always smell so good and are so little and helpless.” She and Geri are working on a plan to form some sort of venomous group at school in the fall.
“Feminist, Stan,” Geri says. “We simply want men and women to be treated equally.”
I roll my eyes and smile at Cuddy. “Women,” I say, shaking my head.
But Cuddy just looks at me, scissors in his hand. “They’re right, Stan,” he says. We’re sitting on the sofa, going through Granny’s old magazines.
At least I hope they’re the old ones. If not, I’ll just blame it on Cuddy.
Cuddy still stares at me. “Grandmother says we’re way behind the times.” He’s as serious as a case of measles when he says it.
“Do you think I have measles?” Cuddy asks. His hand darts to his face, and I grab the scissors he’s holding before he stabs himself.
“You don’t have measles, Cuddy,” Geri says. It’s the first time I’ve heard her actually not try to kill someone with a diagnosis, but she does have a soft spot for Cuddy.
“You’re so lucky you have a doctor in the family, Stan,” Cuddy says, gazing at Geri.
“Bad luck, you mean,” I mumble. “Do you want me to help you cut out some pictures, Cud?” I offer. Because I am whiz with scissors, I don’t mind saying.
I also have a plan.
After I cut out the picture, I paste it smack-dab in the middle of the page before writing on it.
I may not know what it takes to be a cowboy or gold miner. I may never get rich quick. I may eat too much bacon, and I may not have the best manners.
But I am a whiz at being a friend, I don’t mind saying.
Credit 30.1
AUTHOR’S NOTE
A lot of research goes into writing a historical novel. Much of what I learned isn’t even included in the book, but it was important to know Stan’s world since it was so much different from ours. I researched not-very-exciting topics like plumbing (indoor toilets? outhouses? chamber pots?) and what streets looked like (paved? gravel? mud?). I also researched more interesting things like the giant squid, snake oil, and the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair, and because I’m a kind person (not to mention smart and witty), I’m going to share those sources with you!
NINETEENTH-CENTURY MEDICINE
Without the Internet, it wasn’t as easy for information to be transmitted in the 1800s, which meant it took time for people to learn about advances in medicine. In Stan’s world, the theory that germs caused illnesses was relatively new, hospitals were not common, women doctors (as Stan could tell you) were rare, and “cures” might contain anything from ammonia to opium.
Curious about how medicine has changed through the years? This timeline of medical advances covers everything from Hippocrates to the present:
“Medical Advancements Timeline,” Information Please Database. infoplease.com/ipa/A0932661.html
Although my own mother made me wash my hands every three minutes, germ theory wasn’t why mortality rates decreased in the late nineteenth century. Want to know the reason? Or more about health practices? Check out this resource:
“Germ Theory,” Harvard University Library, Open Collections Program. ocp.hul.harvard.edu/contagion/germtheory.html
Be thankful you have access to twenty-first-century medicine rather than what Stan had at his disposal:
“Medical Treatments in the Late 19th Century,” The Rose Melnick Medical Museum. melnickmedicalmuseum.com/2013/03/27/19ctreatment
Before the Pure Food and Drug Act of 1906, it was possible for just about anyone to whip up a batch of pretty much anything and call it medicine, which is exactly what our hero, Stan, tries to do. This bogus medicine is called snake oil and has a very interesting history:
“A History of Snake Oil Salesmen,” National Public Radio. npr.org/sections/codeswitch/2013/08/26/215761377/a-history-of-snake-oil-salesmen
LIVING IN THE 1890S
When I decided the Carlisles would hire Stan to watch Cuddy, I had to determine how much they would pay him—twenty-five cents today certainly wouldn’t go very far, but in 1895 it was worth a lot more. This site helped me figure out what things cost in the late nineteenth century.
Samuel H. Williamson, “Seven Ways to Compute the Relative Value of a U.S. Dollar Amount, 1774 to present,” Measuring Worth. measuringworth.com/uscompare
What was life like for Stan and Geri?
Mancini, Mark. “24 Sure Signs You’re an 1890s Kid.” m
entalfloss.com/article/56772/24-sure-signs-youre-1890s-kid
AMAZING WOMEN OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY
I’ve mentioned Nellie Bly and Elizabeth Blackwell as heroes in this book, but the nineteenth century included many equally amazing women. It’s definitely worth reading more about them!
Susan B. Anthony, suffragette
greatwomen.org/inductee/susan-b-anthony
Elizabeth Blackwell, physician
nlm.nih.gov/exhibition/changingthefaceofmedicine/physicians/biography_35.html
Nellie Bly, journalist
nellieblyonline.com
Queen Liliuokalani, Hawaii’s last monarch
aloha-hawaii.com/hawaii/queen-liliuokalani
TIMBER PIRATES
To be perfectly honest, I didn’t even know timber pirates existed until I researched lumbering. I based Stan’s father on Roaring Dan Seavey.
Boyd, Dr. Richard J. “Roaring Dan Seavey: The Pirate of Lake Michigan.” hsmichigan.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/DanSeavey.pdf
Kates, Kristi. “Pirates of the Great Lakes,” Northern Express. northernexpress.com/michigan/article-6127-pirates-of-the-great-lakes.html
Williams, Rebecca. “Sure there were Pirates in the Caribbean, but the Great Lakes had them too.” Michigan Radio. michiganradio.org/post/sure-there-were-pirates-caribbean-great-lakes-had-them-too#stream/0
1893 CHICAGO WORLD’S FAIR
From May through October 1893, Chicago played host to the World’s Columbian Exposition, a huge fair spanning hundreds of acres and entertaining millions of visitors. Forty-six nations participated, setting up pavilions that contained everything from German artillery to a Viking ship. The Ferris wheel was introduced, along with Juicy Fruit gum, and an entire exhibit was dedicated to electricity. It was also the backdrop for murder—the mayor was shot and killed two days before the end of the fair. And that’s just a sampling of what went on during the exposition.
My Near-Death Adventures Page 14
