The 7th of Victorica

by Beau Schemery

  “Is that right?” Teddy asked, finishing up Rat’s shine and moving over to Sev. He slid the box beneath Sev’s feet. “That can be a dangerous career in this old town.”

  “How so?” Sev asked.

  “I don’t know if I ought t’say, suh. I wouldn’t want t’speak out o’turn.”

  “Ye’re not out o’turn, Teddy. And ye can call me Sev.”

  “Well, Sev, suh, there’s a lot o’competition among some o’the wealthier fellas, and some o’them don’t got the best sense o’right and wrong. If you get my meanin’.”

  “I think I’ve known a few men like that,” Rat chimed in.

  “Ye know this city real well, Teddy?” Sev asked.

  “As well as the next fella. Maybe better,” he answered without looking up from his task.

  “We could use someone like you while we’re in town. What d’ye say? We’ll pay ye a fair wage.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, suh—Sev.”

  “How much do ye make from shinin’ in a day?”

  “Twenty shillings on a real good day.”

  Shillings? Sev thought. He could have sworn he’d heard the colonies used some other form of currency, but that was a question for another time. “How about we pay ye thirty?”

  “Thirty?” Teddy nearly toppled over.

  “All right, then,” Sev said, pretending to dicker. “Ye drive a harsh bargain, Teddy. We’ll make it forty.”

  “You’re too kind, Sev. I’ll do my best.” Teddy snapped his rag. “And you’re all set, Sev.”

  “If ye help us as well as ye polish a shoe”—Sev admired the impressive shine—“I think we’re in good hands. What do I owe ye for the shines?”

  “Two pence.” Teddy held up two fingers.

  Sev gave him four plus the forty shillings. “Can ye start today?”

  “You know it, suh.” Teddy packed up his tools and refolded his case. He used both hands to lift it.

  “Good.” Rat jumped up. “The first thing ye can do is recommend a good place t’eat.”

  “I know just the place, Mistuh Rat.” Teddy turned and took the lead. “Follow me, suhs. This way.”

  AN HOUR later Sev, Rat, and Teddy leaned lazily back in their chairs, stuffed with some of the strangest and most delicious food Sev had ever eaten. “Thanks fer the meal, Mr. Sev,” Teddy said, picking at his teeth with a sliver of wood.

  “It’s the least I could do, Teddy, for introducin’ us t’this fine place,” Sev answered. “What did ye call it again?”

  “Italian. Mr. and Mrs. Fennucci opened this place a few years ago. But not everbody knows about it,” Teddy explained. “We’re lucky too. There ain’t many places that’ll serve colored folks at the same table as white folks. Not openly anyways.”

  “What d’ye call this noodle stuff?” Rat asked, pushing around the little bit of food left on his plate.

  “Spaghetti,” the older woman said as she checked on her guests. “The sauce is marinara. You like?”

  “I love it!” Rat exclaimed. “I can’t believe I’ve never had it before. I could eat this every day ferever.”

  Mrs. Fennucci leaned over and planted a kiss on Rat’s cheek. “You are too kind, little man. I am so glad you liked it. You want dessert?”

  The three boys exchanged glances. “Do we?” Sev asked Teddy.

  “Oh yes, suh. You will certainly want t’try the teery meesoo,” Teddy said with a smile.

  “Tiramisu?” Mrs. Fennucci repeated, her pronunciation slightly different than Teddy’s. “You won’t be sorry, boys. I’ll be right back with it.”

  “What is it?” Sev asked.

  “It’s like a chocolate coffee cake. You won’t be disappointed, suhs.”

  Teddy was right. They weren’t disappointed. The tiramisu tasted like a slice of heaven, and even though Sev wanted to loosen his belt a few notches, he’d gladly force down another piece. They weren’t here to stuff themselves with local food. He happily paid the check and thanked the Fennuccis profusely, vowing to himself that he’d bring Silas here before they left New York.

  Rat and Teddy conversed easily as they left Fennuccis’. Sev’s gaze swept up and down the street. “Which way?” Sev asked. “We’re stayin’ at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. Should we get a hansom or walk?”

  “It ain’t that far. If you ain’t too full?”

  Sev opened his mouth to suggest they walk when he was interrupted.

  “Hey, boy!” Three large thugs stood in the alley near the restaurant. The tallest, meanest-looking of the bunch barked at them. “What d’you think you’re doin’ eatin’ with white folk?”

  “What?” Sev looked around in confusion.

  “I ain’t talkin’ to you, fella.” The man pushed Sev aside. “I’m talkin’ to the tarbaby.”

  “I didn’t mean nothin’ by it, suh. I was only showin’ my employer here a good place to eat,” Teddy explained. He bowed his head and avoided looking the big, ugly man in the eye.

  “Oh, you’ve got an employer? You’re one of those fancy coloreds?” The man jabbed a finger into Teddy’s small shoulder.

  Sev heard himself growling before he realized he was making any noise. Without thinking, he grabbed the man’s sausage-sized finger and twisted it, pinning it to the man’s back. He wished for a moment that he’d taken time to slip into his over-skeleton, the clockwork suit he usually wore to enhance his speed and strength. “Oy, mate. I might be new t’yer little city, and I might not know how things work, but I’m not one t’stand by idle while a fella treats my friend shamefully, no matter the color o’his skin.”

  The man spun to free himself and swung a fist like a brick at Sev. He easily dodged the attack and used the man’s momentum against him, kicking him in the ass and sending him sprawling on the sidewalk.

  One of his mates lunged at Sev, but Rat jumped in his way, brandishing a knife. “I’d think twice if I were you, friend,” Rat stated, puffing menacingly on his pipe. The third man pulled out his own knife and jabbed it at Rat.

  Sev caught the man’s hand before he was able to land his attack, then deftly broke the man’s wrist on his knee. He bellowed and dropped the knife. “Now. I’m not expectin’ ye t’turn over a new leaf and start bein’ decent humans, but I am expectin’ ye t’think twice before ye try any o’this ridiculous shite again.”

  The thugs helped each other up, nursing their respective wounds. “Don’t think this is over, fella,” the first man growled. “You think you can waltz over here and piss on our way of life? You got another think comin’, fella. You might want t’watch your back.” They stumbled away cursing.

  “Ye’re welcome t’try, mate,” Sev called after them. “Next time I’ll break more’n just yer finger.”

  “Holy Hannah, Mistuh Sev. That was amazin’!” Teddy said, his voice filled with awe. “But you shouldn’t have done it, suh.”

  “Why not?” Rat asked.

  “Cause it ain’t worth it, Rat.” Teddy picked up his shoeshine box. “They ain’t out o’line. Coloreds ain’t expected to eat with whites. That’s just the way it is.”

  “Well, I don’t agree with ‘the way it is’. And if I have anythin’ t’say about it, ‘the way it is’ is goin’ t’change presently.” Sev glared at the backs of the retreating thugs.

  “That’s a noble sentiment, Mistuh Sev, suh, but you can’t change the way the whole country thinks.”

  “We’ll see about that, Teddy.” Sev straightened his coat and adjusted his hat. “Now which way to the hotel?” Teddy studied Sev’s expression for a long moment and then waved for Sev and Rat to follow.

  WHEN THEY arrived at the hotel, Teddy hesitated at the entrance. “Problem, Teddy?” Sev asked.

  “I ain’t never walked into a fancy hotel like this, leastways not through the front doors. It ain’t usually done.”

  Before Sev could respond, Silas strode up, joining them at the entrance. “Hello, Mr. Stephens,” Silas said. “How do you find the city?”

  “I find it—” Sev
paused. “—interesting, I suppose. We’ve made a new friend.” He motioned to Teddy.

  “Teddy Bushpig,” Teddy said, nodding to Silas.

  “Brandon Jameson,” Silas lied. “I’m Mr. Stephens’s lawyer.”

  “Then we have something in common, suh, because Mistuh Sev has hired me as well.”

  “Has he?” Silas tossed Sev a questioning glance.

  “I reckon we might want to finish this conversation in our rooms,” Sev suggested.

  “As you wish, sir.” Silas bowed and opened the door for his companions. Sev, Rat, and Teddy stepped past him. Sev marched up to the front desk and retrieved the keys to their suites. They searched for the elevators, and Teddy whispered, “Mistuh Stephens? I wasn’t aware that you were such an important man.”

  “It’s a bit of a long story, Teddy. I’ll explain it to ye when we get t’the room. I promise.”

  “Do you think that’s wise?” Silas asked, leaning in to whisper in Sev’s other ear.

  “I do,” Sev stated confidently.

  SEV, RAT, and Teddy took seats in the parlor of the suite they shared. Silas stood near the small bar. A heavy silence permeated the room as they regarded one another. “I may have hired ye under false pretenses, Teddy. But I ain’t a liar, and if ye want t’know what’s truly going on here, all ye have t’do is ask.” Sev leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

  Teddy looked around at his hosts. “I, uh, I don’t think it’s mah place to ask such things.”

  “Ye got t’stop thinkin’ like that, Teddy,” Rat said. He tapped the ashes out of his pipe and repacked it with tobacco before lighting it once more. His recently shined boots rested on the table in front of the couch.

  “Rat’s right, mate. You aren’t no better or worse than Rat or me. Forget what livin’ in this backward colony has taught ye. We’re travelin’ under false pretenses.”

  “He ain’t your lawyer.” Teddy hooked his thumb over his shoulder toward Silas. Sev shook his head. “And Rat’s not your assistant.”

  “No on both.” Rat puffed on his pipe.

  “My name isn’t Stephens and his isn’t Jameson.” Sev stood up. “My name is Seven. This is Silas Kettlebent and Rat’s just Rat.”

  Teddy scratched at his head with a puzzled look on his face. “Wait a moment. Seven? Sev? The Seventh of London?”

  “Oh shite,” Rat groaned. “Here it comes.”

  “Aye,” Sev said tentatively.

  “We’ve heard stories. There are chap books bein’ passed around about the Battle at Buckingham. Is that you, suh? Is it really?”

  Sev sighed. “Aye. I’m that Seven, but I doubt what ye’ve read is properly accurate. I’m just a man, nothin’ more.”

  The awe on Teddy’s face was apparent and made Sev incredibly uncomfortable. “Whillikers. I don’t believe it. What are you all doin’ in the states?” Teddy asked.

  “Sev,” Silas interrupted, his tone held grave warning.

  Sev raised a hand. “We’re here to stop this slavery nonsense. We’re here t’free those that share yer skin color, and if I have any say in it, we’re here t’free yer whole damn country.”

  “Sev!” Silas barked. “We have a very specific task set before us. Overstepping that, giving this young man false hope will not help anyone.”

  Sev scowled at Silas’s words. How could someone he’d grown to love say such a thing? “I’m not one to offer false hope, and if you know anything about me, ye know I don’t offer false anythin’.”

  Teddy pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his temples. “This is batty. You’re here to fight slavery and return our independence?”

  “That’s how I see it.” Sev crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Aye,” Rat agreed.

  They all looked to Silas for more support, but he remained silent. He only offered them a scowl from behind the bar.

  “I’m in,” Teddy said and rose to his feet. “I’ll help you however I can. And you can forget about payin’ me. This is the right thing t’do.”

  Sev shook his head. “No, Teddy. We had an agreement, and ye’re goin’ t’get yer pay. But I will gladly accept yer help to aid our mission.”

  “We need to talk to the Underground.” Teddy rubbed through his unruly curls. “They’re a bit off their rockers, but they’ll know where we can go, how we can get to the people we need t’speak to.”

  “The Underground?” Sev frowned.

  “The Underground Railroad, if I’m not mistaken,” Silas chimed in.

  “That’s right, suh,” Teddy said with a nod. “It’s a system to secretly escort slaves to the North where they can be free, where we can be free.”

  “Aye, but they ain’t really free, are they?” Rat asked.

  Teddy shook his head slowly, reluctantly. “No, suhs. They ain’t. We ain’t. We ain’t forced t’work for free, but we’re still servin’ white folks. It ain’t easy.”

  “That’s not right.” Sev grimaced. He looked at Silas, who stood stoically behind the bar, his expression unreadable. Sev furrowed his brow, upset that his love wasn’t backing him up, wasn’t offering his support. “Forgive me if this is offensive, but were you a slave?”

  Teddy sighed. “I wasn’t never. My ma and pa was. They put me, my brother, and my sistuhs on the Railroad when we were just babes. My oldest sistuhs, the twins, remember bein’ slaves. It weren’t no picnic.”

  “So are your parents still slaves?” Silas finally joined the conversation.

  Teddy dropped his gaze. “No, suh. They tried t’get to us. But they were caught and killed. Beaten t’death is what we heard.”

  “Jaysus,” Sev said. “I’m sorry t’hear that. My condolences, mate.”

  “I didn’t really know them,” Teddy said. “It affected my sistuhs and my brother a lot more than it affected me an’ my youngest sistuh. I feel guilty about that sometimes.” Teddy’s whole being sagged.

  “Bloody ’ell,” Rat grumbled.

  “I lost me parents early on as well,” Sev added.

  “I know that, Sev,” Teddy responded. “I’ve read—well, no—I’ve had people read to me, about you. So I know you didn’t have a proper family.”

  Sev shook his head. “Nay. I had a proper family and lost ’em one by one. And it was mostly my fault, but I don’t really want t’dig all that up again. Let’s just say we’ve all come from similar circumstances. We’ve suffered. You’ve suffered. We want to stop the sufferin’.”

  “There are people you need t’meet,” Teddy said. “They want what you want. But they ain’t got any idea how to do it. They’re only puttin’ bandages on the problem. They don’t truly know how t’heal it.”

  “I mean t’heal it proper,” Sev assured him.

  “Sev.” Silas used his name like an admonishment. “You can’t promise that.”

  “Who says?” Rat asked. Sev felt grateful for the confidence.

  “Rat,” Silas said in a similar tone. “We can do our best, but we absolutely can’t guarantee success.”

  “Not with that attitude,” Rat responded.

  “Have ye ever doubted me, Silas? Have I ever said I would do somethin’ and not come through?”

  Silas shook his head once but said nothing.

  “No. Exactly.” Sev crossed his arms and shot Silas a dark look.

  “Can I bring my siblins in on this, Sev?” Teddy asked.

  “Aye. The more help, the better.”

  “Good.” Teddy’s full lips pressed into a severe line. “This ain’t goin’ t’be easy.”

  “Nothin’ ever is, mate.” Sev’s expression reflected Teddy’s. “Nothin’ worth fightin’ for ever is, but that don’t mean we can’t pull it off. Believe that, Teddy.”

  “I do, Mistuh Sev. I do.”

  RAT OFFERED to share his room with Teddy, but Sev saw no need. He could easily kip in with Silas. Under normal circumstances sharing a bed with him would make Sev’s night, but something about Silas’s earlier aloofness rankled Sev. Once Rat and Teddy h
ad washed up and retreated to their separate rooms for the night, Sev poured himself a shot of a native Victorican drink called bourbon.

  Silas sat by the light of a gas lamp, poring over sheaves of parchment. He wore an undershirt and suspenders, the light playing on the lean muscles of his flesh arm and the clockworks of his mechanical. Sev tried not to admire it with little success. Silas furrowed his brow beneath his close-cropped black hair. An errant lock, so familiar to Sev, continued to work its way loose from its brothers. Silas absently swept it back every few moments.

  Sev sipped the bourbon as he watched his love. The amber liquid claimed to be whiskey, but it tasted sweeter than the Irish version he normally drank. He winced at the almost familiar burn as he swallowed. “What was all that earlier, then?”

  Silas raised his hazel gaze from the papers and fixed Sev with a stern look. “I might ask you the same thing.”

  Sev shrugged. “I’m right disgusted by this lot. What’s the point of us gettin’ slavery eliminated, if they only end up paid shite t’work fer the people who had them as slaves in the first place? And while we’re at it, why not do a clean sweep o’freedom and return their independence to them? Who are we t’pick and choose?”

  “Sev, I completely understand your frustration, and I agree with your intent.” Silas sighed, massaging his temple with his nonmechanical fingers. “But we just shouldn’t make promises we can’t guarantee we can keep. It isn’t just up to us, is it?”

  “No. No, I reckon ye’re right, but I can’t imagine if we appealed t’Wrathsbury, he’d refuse t’see sense.”

  “I’m certain you’re correct,” Silas replied, leaning back in his chair. “Even he would need to convince Parliament and the queen.”

  Sev placed his empty glass on the table and walked behind Silas, giving his shoulders a firm massage. “It don’t mean we can’t try.”

  Silas’s muscles began to relax. “That feels bloody good. Let’s just focus on abolishing slavery for the moment. That will be a monumental enough task.”

  “Aye,” Sev said with a nod. “Shall we put this aside for the night?” He motioned to the paper scattered about the table. “Get some sleep and attack it fresh in the mornin’?” He offered his hand to Silas.