Ghost Messages

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Ghost Messages Page 7

by Jacqueline Guest


  “That’s neither here nor there,” Captain Anderson interrupted. “My concern now is what to do with you for the duration of the voyage. I’m not prepared to throw you in the brig, although you will be turned over to the authorities when we get to port. Since you’re impersonating

  a cabin boy, you can indeed assume the duties of one: running messages, feeding livestock and the like. God knows Henry could use some help with that zoo he brought on board.”

  Ailish saw a tiny opportunity to make things better without actually lying to the captain. “Yes, sir, I was cleaning the sheep pen yesterday.” True enough, when the wind was right, she could still detect a faint whiff of dung from her clothes.

  “Without being told?” Captain Anderson nodded approvingly. “That’s the initiative I’m looking for. Continue to make yourself useful. If you’re man enough to be aboard the Great Eastern, then I expect you to take your duties seriously. Mr. Dalton will oversee you and assign tasks so that you contribute to this ship. You will report to him and remember, Mr. O’Connor, he will report to me. Have I made myself clear?”

  “Aye, aye, Captain!” Relief flowed over her like a cool breeze. Now that she was out in the open, she would have more opportunity to snoop. This unfortunate run in had turned out better than she could have wished for.

  Dalton’s huge paw clamped her arm and she winced. “Come with me, boy.” He yanked her out of the captain’s office and shoved her hard against the wall. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’m keeping an eye on your every move. Your skinny Irish bones belong to me for the rest of the trip and the first order of business is this – you stay away from your pal Whelan, got it? He’s no longer going to save you from having your ears boxed whenever I feel like a little exercise. If you so much as spit on the deck, I’ll see you spend the rest of this voyage in the bottom of the bilge as food for the rats. Now get a brush and start sweeping!” He shoved her roughly away from him.

  Ailish shivered. She hated rats. Nodding mutely, she slid past the angry crew chief and went to find a broom.

  – - • – –

  True to his word, for the next several days Dalton kept her so busy, Ailish was exhausted by nightfall. Some of the other members of the crew noticed the way she was being worked and looked sympathetic, but none seemed willing to challenge Dalton’s authority. She had no choice but to be a good cabin boy and run errands, scrub and paint anything that stood still, sweep the deck and tend to the animals. She had never worked so hard in her life.

  Ailish kept the image of her da in her head and tried to be very patient. It would be worth it in the end and the bully couldn’t keep on hounding her forever. She just had to outlast him.

  It took a long, painful while, but once Dalton seemed assured that she was of no further importance, he did exactly what she thought he’d do – he relaxed his guard. The day came when she knew it was time to begin the hunt once more. She kept the map Davy had drawn tucked in her pocket, always waiting for her chance to slip away and make it down to the third-class quarters where the crew slept.

  The afternoon air had grown very still and the sky had an ominous green cast. A squall was coming and from the way the crew was preparing, Ailish suspected it would be a fierce one. As she watched, Dalton shouted orders to secure lifeboats and tie down loose equipment in preparation for the stormy weather to come. He was a harsh taskmaster, but he knew his job and the men jumped to it when he roared his orders.

  As the big man strode up and down the long teak deck like an army general gone berserk, Ailish calmly continued to put out hay and oats, clean old straw and tend to the chickens, all the while surreptitiously keeping an eye on her jailor, waiting for her moment.

  Finishing the day’s egg collection, she ducked out the low door of the wooden chicken coop to find Paddy leaning against its side, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “The word is going about that we have a stowaway aboard.” He raised his eyebrows at her in a questioning way and Ailish felt her stomach sink. “This villain is purported to be about your height and also your age, with close cropped dark hair.” He scrutinised her short locks before going on. “And dressed, well, dressed exactly like you. This ruffian was discovered when he met Captain Anderson in a most impolite manner. Now, with us being such good mates and all…” Here he paused and Ailish felt the weight of the lie she’d told to him. “I’m sure we’d confide in each other if we knew anything. You wouldn’t be able to shed any light on this mystery rogue, would you, lad?”

  Ailish’s spirit plummeted. She had few friends on board, two to be precise, and now she’d been caught being false to one of them.

  “I can explain, Paddy. I lied to you and for that, I’m truly sorry, but I had to stay.” She looked down at the eggs while she gave him the halfpence account of the incident, absently rubbing the wicker basket’s edge with her finger. When she was finished, she snuck a look up at his face.

  He didn’t look much better. “Let me get this straight. You knock the captain down, in front of his men, then tell him you stowed away on his ship while it’s on the most important voyage in history. You’re lucky Captain Anderson didn’t string you up from the yardarm!”

  She noticed the merry twinkle in his eyes was back and saw how he was trying not to smile. She’d been forgiven and they both knew it. The sinking feeling evaporated and the sun seemed to shine a little brighter.

  “But the worst thing that came out of it is that Rufus Dalton is now in charge of me and he’s a beast. He says I can’t go near you or he’ll throw me in the bilge to be eaten by rats!”

  “Nonsense,” Paddy scoffed.

  “You don’t know what that monster is capable of!” A vision of her father’s bloody face swam in front of her eyes and she shuddered. “Maybe he will!”

  “I told you we’re mates. I’ll keep a weather eye out for you, lad. Dalton’s a bully who likes scaring those he can.” He gestured to the hen house. “And it appears you’ve been a little chicken when dealing with our crew chief. You must like smelling foul.”

  Ailish plucked a stray feather out of her hair and waved it under her nose. “Smelling fowl, no, but they do provide a smashing breakfast.” She brandished the basket of newly gathered eggs.

  Laughing, Ailish noticed Dalton looking their way. She immediately dropped the feather and pulled the basket closer to her. “I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

  Paddy followed her gaze, then scowled. “I wouldn’t let that blowhard tell you what to do.”

  “But I have to. He’s my new boss, or maybe warden is a better word. I can’t get into any more trouble or it could spoil my plan.”

  Her agitation must have showed as Paddy’s tone changed immediately. “There’s more to this than you’re saying, O’Connor. Perhaps you’d better tell me everything.”

  “I will, but not here.” Ailish checked to see if Dalton was coming their way. “Later, I’ll meet you in the machinery storage hold. I’ll ask Davy to join us and we’ll explain what’s been going on.”

  “Davy? Who is this Davy? Another stowaway?” Paddy asked.

  “He’s the bash boy who works belowdecks.” When Paddy still looked confused she went on. “He helps Charlie the riveter keep the ship’s iron plates in good order…”

  Paddy was about to say something when a shout stopped them both.

  “Get back to work O’Connor, before I have you scrubbing Oxford Street with a holystone!” Rufus Dalton bellowed from high on the narrow catwalk that spanned the deck from one giant paddlewheel housing to the other.

  “I’m done work after the second dogwatch. Meet me below then.”

  From what Ailish had been able to pick up from the sailors she’d overheard, the language of the sea was complicated and it occurred to her that she may have told him the wrong time. “That’s eight o’clock tonight, right?”

  He laughed. “Yes it is, right after first dogwatch, which is when you should be having your supper, and before evening watch when you should
be sleeping. It’s a good thing you aren’t a real cabin boy, O’Connor. You’d miss your meals!” He was still chuckling as he strode off down the deck.

  Ailish went to the sheep enclosure and checked the stable for Dimples, which is what she’d named the fat ewe that was her favourite of the entire menagerie. The ewe baa’d hello, flicking a stubby tail. She’d grown fond of the rotund ruminant and had been sneaking her extra rations.

  Once, Dimples had filched two of Henry’s wondrous biscuits from Ailish’s lunch and immediately loved the delicacy, especially with a spoon of molasses drizzled on top. The ewe was always nuzzling Ailish for the sweet treat, but it was hard to come by as she had to beg it from the kitchen. Henry said she could have one or two buns and a dollop of molasses as it would all end up in the same place anyway.

  As Ailish let the ewe lick the last morsel from her palm, she looked around. The breeze had stiffened and white caps were forming on the rolling ocean swells.

  She saw Dalton near the stern, wielding a massive wrench, almost as long as her, as easily as he would a flyswatter. The sharp edge of the wrench glinted in the bruised light as Dalton manipulated one of the many wheels in the piece of machinery. He was totally engrossed, seeming oblivious to everything but his task.

  Ailish decided now was her chance. If she was caught, she’d say she was taking the eggs to the galley and got lost. She sidled out of the sheep pen and ran toward the hatch that led belowdecks, slipping the basket over her arm and grabbing the map out of the pocket in her breeches as she went. Hurrying as fast as she could, she made her way to the crew’s quarters and hopefully, Dalton’s lair.

  She checked the map, then the numbers of the cabins as she passed each one, 302, 303, there it was, 304! Then she spied something she hadn’t thought about. A keyhole… and where there was a keyhole, there had to be a key. She turned the handle but the door was securely bolted.

  “Bilge rats!” she cursed.

  “I thought you didn’t like the little rodents?”

  Ailish whirled around. “Davy!” She clutched a hand to her breast, trying to steady her pounding heart. “You may as well shoot me as scare me to death! What are you doing here?”

  “Charlie and me are knocking off for the day and I was on my way to the cargo hold when I caught sight of you and thought I’d see how the search was coming along.”

  She blew out a puff of air that sent her ragged hair flying back from her forehead. “I am glad to see you, but you could have warned me the blasted cabin would be locked!”

  “I thought you’d figure it out for yourself. That Jack tar is a thief – he thinks like a thief and would worry there were others like him about. He probably sleeps with one eye open.”

  “That still doesn’t help me to get in. Do you know where I can get a key?”

  “Maybe in the purser’s office, but the master keys would be…”

  Ailish finished the sentence for him. “…locked up!”

  A thought flashed into her brain. “Locked doors are such a nuisance…” she said absently, glancing around and then a wide smile blossomed on her face. “But I’m too close to be defeated now.”

  Setting the egg basket on the floor, she hurried to a toolbox that was tucked beneath the stairs. Rummaging inside, she was rewarded with exactly what she needed: a piece of thin wire. “Perfect!” she breathed as she returned to Dalton’s door.

  Davy frowned. “What’s that for?”

  “Some months ago, me and my da met a magician, Manfred the Magnificent, travelling to the same fair we were bound for. Da struck up a friendship and after a day of performing for the crowds, we’d all sit around a turf fire and the conjurer would show me tricks, one of them being how to open a locked box with a simple magic spell… and a convenient piece of wire.”

  Davy nodded his head appreciatively, and Ailish set to work.

  Wiggling the wire in the keyhole as she’d been taught, she mumbled the magic spell for extra luck and was rewarded when the lock clicked open. With a fast check to make sure no one was about, Ailish turned the knob.

  “We’re in!” she chirped gleefully, but at that moment, another cabin door at the end of the corridor rattled.

  “Get inside quick!” Davy ordered hastily. “I’ll do a little bit of magic of my own and then meet you later!”

  Ailish scooped the egg basket before ducking into Dalton’s room, then closed and locked the door behind her. As she did so, the light in the passageway went out. Without the lights, it was as black as a tomb down here.

  She heard a sailor loudly cursing the darkness, then a thin strip of light reappeared under the door once more. Was this Davy’s “little bit of magic”? Ailish thought it most impressive. Mr. Jones was a luminary genius if he could manipulate the gaslights with such ease.

  She placed her egg basket on top of the chiffonier and turned up the interior lamp fastened to the cabin wall. Dalton’s quarters smelled of mouldy socks, rotting food and, she wrinkled her nose, a long-unwashed sweaty body. As she searched, she took extra pains to put everything back exactly as she’d found it. There was no sense in letting the villain know she’d been there.

  She looked in drawers and under the mattress, no jewel-encrusted golden horse. She checked inside Dalton’s duffle bag and inspected his sea locker, still nothing. The only place left in the sparsely furnished cabin was the closet.

  Pulling the double doors open, she found the closet stuffed to overflowing with shirts and pants, along with a couple of coats and even a fancy bowler hat which sat proudly on the top shelf. Cluttering the floor were a pair of tall rubber Wellington boots for wet weather and three pairs of shoes. Who on earth owned three pairs of shoes?

  She turned the shoes upside down and shook them, then reached inside the Wellingtons, which was disgusting, but the precious horse was not to be found.

  A noise in the corridor made her stop. Ailish could hear voices talking loudly and then the unthinkable – the sound of a key in the lock.

  Dalton was at the door!

  Panic! What should she do? Where could she hide? She ran to the lamp and extinguished it, then leapt into the closet, pulling the doors shut behind her. Squeezing as far back into the corner as possible, she waited. There were louvers in the doors and she was able to peek out and see her nemesis as he stomped into the room.

  “We’re in for a blow and that’s for sure, Jimmy. Let me get my foul weather gear.” He called to a crewman in the hallway.

  He was here for his raincoat and boots! Ailish looked down at the Wellingtons at her feet and felt around for the oilskin coat. She pushed the boots to the front of the closet and quietly slid the coat near the centre of the closet opening, hoping that he was in a hurry and wouldn’t rummage around for anything else.

  She watched breathlessly as he moved toward the closet. It was then that her eye fell on the chiffonier. Sitting proudly on top of the dresser was her basket of eggs!

  If he saw them, she would never get out of here alive.

  Ailish shrank back against the wall as the door was yanked open.

  “Get a move on, Rufus. I’m due topside!” An impatient voice shouted from the passageway.

  Dalton grabbed the boots and slid the oilskins from their wooden hanger. “Yeah, yeah, hold your horses,” he snarled back. “It’s as cold as an icehouse tonight and I can’t find my blasted sweater.”

  Ailish felt the scratchy wool against her cheek. She was smack up against the very garment he was searching for! She dared not breathe. As stealthily as possible, she nudged the sweater toward his big, groping fist.

  “Got it!” he called, yanking it out of the closet and slamming the door.

  Ailish peered through the slats praying he didn’t spot the egg basket. The light from the hall lamps cast a wan illumination into the room. Dalton had not bothered to light the gas lamp on the wall, which was good as to do that, he would have to push the egg basket out of the way.

  She watched as he hastily pulled on the sweater and boots
, then dragged the jacket over everything and hurried out of the cabin.

  Sighing with relief, Ailish edged out of the closet. Her stomach was tight as a French corset. Her hands trembled as she pushed the louvered door closed behind her and her head felt odd from holding her breath. That had been too close and it had all been for nothing. She still didn’t have the wonderful horse.

  10

  Cabin Boy Overboard

  .-- …. . .-. . -.. --- . … .- .. .-.. … .-.. .- -. -..

  Before delivering the eggs, Ailish took a detour to the hold to tell Davy about the dismal outcome of their latest adventure and also let him know about the meeting with Paddy later. In her excitement at breaking into Dalton’s cabin she’d forgotten, but when she arrived in the hold, he was nowhere around. Disappointed, she scribbled a note and left it on their favourite packing case.

  With a sigh, she decided she’d better report in to Dalton or he’d wonder where she’d been all this time and start questioning her. She dropped the eggs by the galley and then moved on to the hatchway leading topside, but when she pushed it open, she gasped.

  In the short time she’d been below, the world had darkened into a nightmare of thunder and water. A black pall extinguished any light the setting sun may have shared and the sea was now filled with towering cliffs of boiling grey waves.

  Icy rain slashed her with razor sharp daggers, instantly soaking her thin clothes and if she hadn’t been holding onto the hatch, the unexpected blast of wind would have blown her down. Within seconds, her hair dripped and her body felt like a giant icicle. She wished Davy had a sailors’ pea coat in that locker of his as she could surely use it now.

  A violent shiver wracked Ailish as she surveyed the ship. Everywhere, shadowy figures of men ran to secure stray items the wind had stolen and tossed around with careless abandon. This was no place for her.

 

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