by Ed Gorman
“The dog may well be running loose,” Usina admitted when they were safe from being run down in the middle of the street, “but he’s not without an owner. His name is Tinker.” Usina felt he’d explained enough, but damned if Tinker didn’t look at him expectantly. Usina cleared his throat. “He’s a male dog, miss,” he added.
“And he belongs to you?” asked the young woman breathlessly, as though this were a miracle equal to turning water into wine. Usina felt as if he’d done something very gallant, although he knew he hadn’t. At least she’d stopped crying. “I’m sorry, you must think me very foolish,” she continued. “But your Tinker looks exactly like my Muffin.” She paused to take a shaky breath before explaining further. “My brother put me on a ship out of Key West when he decided to send me home, and the captain was beastly about Muffin—he simply wouldn’t allow any dogs on board. But then I missed my ship here, and I’ve been stranded in this awful place all week looking for another passage. I can’t help but think we could have waited for a ship that would let me take my Muffin with me.”
The young woman gave no sign of relinquishing her grip on Tinker, and damned if her lower lip wasn’t beginning to quiver again. Thoughts of his mother and her relentless belief in Southern manners came unbidden to Usina’s mind.
“I’m Phillip Cassidy,” said Usina, using his middle name and making up the Cassidy on the spot. “It’s been years since I lived in Florida, but that’s where I was born.” He felt certain that this statement, true as it was, disclosed no important information. Only a fool assumed that birthplace or geography of residence identified one’s allegiance in this hell of a war that pitted brother against brother, father against son, and neighbor against neighbor. Usina gestured to the door of the boardinghouse, which advertised that food was available along with lodging. “Please, let me buy you a cup of tea,” he said. “I assure you that I am a gentleman, and it’s the least I can do, considering it was my dog you tripped over.”
“I’m Amanda Kelly,” the young woman said, extending one hand while the other continued to cradle Tinker. She seemed to take a good look at Usina for the first time, and he found himself trying to stand up taller and look respectable. Due to these efforts, or perhaps in spite of them, Amanda Kelly must have been reassured by what she saw. She gave a little nod as though she’d made up her mind. “It would be very nice to sit and have a cup of tea.” she told him. “The worst thing about being in this place is the loneliness. I miss my brother and Muffin terribly.”
Using held the door open for her, and soon they were settled at a table, sharing a pot of tea. Tinker was content to lay on Amanda Kelly’s lap as though he were accustomed to being there, and as though Usina himself were only a casual acquaintance. Traitor. Usina gave Miss Kelly a polite smile and lifted a teacup to his lips.
“What brings you to Nassau, Mr. Cassidy?” asked Amanda Kelly. Usina paused, the cup halfway to his mouth, but Miss Kelly immediately answered her own question. “No, don’t tell me—I’m sorry I asked. My brother warns me constantly that my curiosity can be a terrible affliction during wartime. I keep forgetting that these days even the most innocent of questions can make people horribly uncomfortable.”
“Why not tell me about yourself?” suggested Usina. After all, his mother had always taught him that it was polite to let other people talk about themselves. It suddenly occurred to him that perhaps he owed his mother at least partial credit for being so good at what he did, an amazing thought which he filed away for later. “You sound as though you’re English,” Usina continued, refraining from remarking that only an English girl could look the way Amanda Kelly looked. “So there must be a story behind your travels. Key West and Nassau are a fair ways from London.”
Miss Kelly wrinkled her nose deprecatingly. It was not an unattractive gesture, Usina noted. “A story there may be, but it’s not a very exciting one,” she told him. “You’re right, I’m from England, from a town south of London called Guildford.” Being a frequent visitor to various British ports himself, Usina was quite familiar with English geography, but he made no comment. “My brother and I are missionaries,” Miss Kelly explained. “We went to Florida to work with the Seminole Indians, my brother to preach and I to teach. See—we make such a good team that we can even describe our work in rhyme.” There was an expression on her face that probably started out to be a smile, but didn’t quite make it. She shook her head sadly and looked down at Tinker, seemingly at a loss for words.
“What happened?” asked Usina gently.
“The war,” said Miss Kelly. “The war is what happened. At first, we ignored all the talk of secession, thinking it was something political, something that would go away, and that it didn’t concern us. Then, when the war really did break out, we thought it would soon be over, and that it would hardly affect us since we were English citizens, and so far from the Northern states. I mean, we thought that if we were nowhere near the fighting, the war could come and go without it affecting our work.” Miss Kelly looked quite forlorn again, one hand still absently stroking Tinker. Usina decided it was not his imagination—the little dog definitely looked smug.
“That’s what most people thought,” he told Miss Kelly. Usina recalled the months he had spent recovering from a leg wound received at the battle of Manassas, and how he had been so young and foolish then that he feared the war would be over before he was fit to see action again. Two scant years older but many battles wiser, how he wished his fears of those past days had been realized.
“And how wrong we all were,” said Miss Kelly sadly. “The shortages and deprivations have gotten so bad—you can hardly imagine.” Usina felt quite certain that he could, but he didn’t argue the point. “The Indians were poor enough when we first came, but now we lack even the most basic food, clothes, and medicine. With the living conditions, the growing unrest, and the ever-increasing number of runaway slaves, my brother decided that I should return to England. He is ten years older and our parents are dead, so he is quite protective.” Miss Kelly took a deep breath, and Usina felt quite certain she was giving him the shortened version of how the decision had been reached between her and her brother. “So, Mr. Cassidy, that is how I come to be in Nassau, while my brother and Muffin remain behind in the place that I have come to call home.”
Usina could hear a quiver in her voice again. “Perhaps your brother and your dog will soon join you in England, or perhaps the war will come to an end and you can return to them,” he said quickly, mentally cursing the emptiness of his words.
“Perhaps,” Miss Kelly echoed softly, her head bent down again as she continued to stroke Tinker, who had fallen asleep. Then she suddenly looked up, the merest sparkle in her eyes where there had been tears before. “I am tired of being sad and weepy, Mr. Cassidy, and I thank you for your patience with me. I won’t ask you any more questions about yourself, I really do know better than that, but maybe you could tell me a little bit about Tinker. I miss Muffin so much, and I can sense a great bond between you and this dog.”
Usina wondered how she could sense a bond when Tinker looked as though he would be content to remain in Miss Kelly’s lap for the rest of his natural days, but he didn’t argue, If it would cheer up Miss Kelly to hear about Tinker, then hear about Tinker she would. Usina carefully edited his words to give no hint about his allegiance or his work, which was common enough, considering the times and their surroundings.
Usina told Miss Kelly how he had come to own Tinker, and how it was known throughout various seas that the dog had never sailed on a ship which came to be captured. He told her how he had once had occasion to leave a ship midjourney, going by boat to another ship, and how one of the passengers had pleaded with him to leave Tinker behind.
“He didn’t care a bit that I was leaving the ship, along with several other able-bodied men. I don’t think he would have cared if the captain and the whole crew left the ship. This man only cared that Tinker stay on board,” Usina told Miss Kelly, and was rewarded b
y a musical laugh. “I even scolded the man, saying that I had come to know him somewhat during the voyage, and that I did not take him to be one to harbor ignorant superstitions. He remained adamant in his desire to have Tinker remain with him, and he was quite indignant when I took the dog with, me by boat to board the other ship.”
“What an influential little fellow you are,” Miss Kelly said to Tinker, who briefly opened one eye and then closed it again.
“That’s not even the end of the story,” Usina protested. “I happened to learn some months later that that very ship was captured two days after Tinker and I left.”
“No,” said Miss Kelly. “That is too much to believe—you must be teasing me now, Mr. Cassidy.”
“I swear upon my honor it is a true story,” replied Usina. “And one that others can attest to. Not long after this incident, a merchant, a Captain Green, came to me and offered me five hundred dollars in gold, simply to let him have Tinker for just one voyage.”
“Five hundred dollars in gold?” asked Miss Kelly, her eyes widening in amazement. She was a missionary, Usina reminded himself. Perhaps she was thinking about what five hundred dollars in gold could buy for starving Indians. “Whatever did you tell him?” Usina decided that Miss Kelly must be caught up in the excitement of the story, for her voice sounded breathless again.
“I told him, ‘Green, there are two fools here, you and I both,’ but I did not let him have the dog. Do not think me selfish—there are others who have profited from their association with Tinker.”
“And who would those be?” asked Miss Kelly, her blue eyes dancing, which was much preferable to seeing them full of tears. “Seafaring passengers who band together and pay you to travel with them, simply so that they will have the protection of this noble animal?”
“He’s not noble enough to avoid a lady’s feet, obviously,” Usina reminded her. “No, Tinker and I haven’t lowered ourselves to profiting from the superstations of others. But there is a photographer in Bermuda who asked relentlessly for permission to take Tinker’s picture, and I finally said yes. I hear that the man has made a fair sum from the sale of the photographs.”
Miss Kelly laughed again and Usina felt quite proud of himself. He was so engrossed in their conversation that he didn’t notice a man approach their table until he was standing over them. “Shall I take a picture of you and your lady, sir?” the man asked. He was tall and thin and Usina thought he looked quite ghoulish. “It would make a fine souvenir,” the man added as Usina stared up at him, momentarily speechless with surprise.
Amanda Kelly turned a becoming shade of red. “We’re just friends,” said Usina shortly, recovering his powers of speech.
“’Twould make a fine souvenir of your friendship, in that case,” the man persisted.
“Would you really mind so much?” Miss Kelly asked then, surprising Usina even more than the appearance of the cadaverous photographer. “I have nothing to remind me of Muffin, I had to leave so quickly. I have money—” she added, reaching for her bag.
Usina put his hand over hers. Was she really so foolish as to make a remark like that? “Leave us for a minute,” he told the photographer.
“As you wish,” said the man, and withdrew to a table in the corner. Usina wondered if he had been there when they walked through the door. For the life of him, he could not remember, and it made him angry at himself. A man in his position could not afford to get careless in the practice of observing those around him.
“You must not say things like that in a place like this, about having money on your person,” he told Miss Kelly sternly. “No good will come of it.” She started to say something but he squeezed her hand to keep her from interrupting. He wanted to get the next part over with. “And although you said you would ask no questions, and although I have greatly enjoyed our conversation together, I must tell you that I am a married man, Miss Kelly.”
It was true enough. The dark-haired Camilla had been his friend since childhood and his wife for the last year. She was his one and only true love, but still, right now, she was so very far away. Camilla had a will of her own, and she had not yet yielded to his pleas for her to come and live with family friends in Nassau, that he might see her more often. So it logically followed that it was Camilla who was responsible for the fact that it had been more than two months since Usina had last seen his wife. He hadn’t quite reasoned out whether it was also Camilla’s fault that he was entranced by Miss Kelly, but he figured that it didn’t matter much. He would have to be dead in his grave to be immune to the unconscious charms of the woman sitting across from him, as different from Camilla as night from day.
“And you must not mistake me,” said Miss Kelly, speaking low and urgently. “I have left behind everything that I love and hold dear, and you are the one person in this godforsaken place who has taken any interest in me or shown me any kindness. I am soon to make a long sea voyage by myself, and you tell me that Tinker has some lucky charm about him for preventing a ship from being captured. A man believed so much in this that he offered you five hundred dollars in gold for the dog, yet you turned him down. They say that a picture is worth a thousand words. It would please me so to have such a picture to keep me company on my journey, yet I have only one word to offer in return.”
“And what would that one word be?” asked Usina, fascinated by the intensity he saw in Miss Kelly’s bottomless blue eyes.
“Please,” she said simply, and Usina knew that he was lost.
“Very well,” he told her, “but only upon one condition—that I pay for the photograph. After all, you seem to keep forgetting that the same animal you hold now is the one who almost caused you to fall in a busy street.”
“Tripping over Tinker may be the luckiest thing that has happened to me since I came to Nassau,” replied Miss Kelly. “You spoil me, Mr. Cassidy. First a cup of tea and then a photograph. I may have to start looking for other dogs to trip over.”
“But then you would have to be the kind of person you are not,” said Usina gallantly, motioning to the photographer. He intended to purchase a photograph of Miss Kelly and Tinker only, but somehow they all ended up in the picture together. Miss Kelly was so pleased, she told Usina she felt certain that their meeting meant a change of luck for them both. Usina wrote down the names of some people she could contact regarding passage to London, and they parted amiably a short while later, with Tinker grudgingly giving up his place in Miss Kelly’s lap to follow his master. There had been a reversal in roles, for as they walked out onto the street and bade Miss Kelly farewell, it was Tinker who looked discouraged.
When they reached their destination, he began to think that Miss Kelly might be right about a change in his luck. Within the hour he chartered an English schooner to take him and his men to Bermuda the very next morning. Never mind that the captain of the schooner Royal was dead drunk before dinnertime, it was the ship itself that mattered. If need be, Usina could captain it himself.
He was to remember these very thoughts sixty miles into their journey, when at daylight one morning, Tinker came to alert and soon after, Usina sighted the Yankee ship-of-war Shenandoah. She wasted no time in coming alongside. “What schooner is that, where from and where bound?” called an officer imperiously from the Shenandoah’s deck.
The captain of the Royal was the one who should be giving the answers, but he was down below, sleeping off the drinks of the previous evening. “This is the schooner Royal, bound from Nassau to Bermuda.” shouted Usina, careful to stay within the shadows of the upper deck.
“Lower a boat and come on board,” the officer ordered.
“I’ll see you in hell first,” muttered Usina. He told his men to remember that they were passengers and so they damn well better act like passengers. Then he headed below to rouse their worthless captain and get him to raise the English flag. This endeavor took about twenty minutes, the same amount of time it took the Shenandoah to bring an armed boat alongside and put four men on board the Royal
.
A very young lieutenant was in charge, and he made a great show of examining the Royal’s papers. He finally proclaimed them to be in order, as Usina knew he must, since he himself had been over them in detail before ever leaving Nassau. The Yankee lieutenant was preparing to depart, but he wasn’t going about it very quickly, and Usina couldn’t leave well enough alone. He was curious as to why a ship-of-war such as the Shenandoah would bother Itself with a lowly schooner like the Royal.
Usina stepped forward. “I apologize for our captain’s lack of manners,” he said to the lieutenant. “I am only a passenger on board, but I can offer you a glass of wine in my cabin before you return to your ship.”
The young lieutenant looked at Usina a long moment before answering. “I don’t suppose I should,” he said finally, “but I reckon that I will.”
Usina showed the man to his cabin where Tinker now lay watching the proceedings from the berth, giving one low growl to acknowledge the presence of a Yankee. The two men drank mostly in silence for a while, but after a little wine, the young officer became more talkative. “Was it you who answered our hail?” he asked suddenly.
“Yes,” Usina admitted, thinking this was a strange question to ask. “Our captain was indisposed at the moment.”
The Yankee took another drink of his wine. “I thought it was you,” he said.
This seemed a strange response from someone Usina had never met before. “What do you know about me?” he asked.
Again the man paused before answering. “I know enough to surprise you,” he said finally.
“That is something no one has ever done yet,” replied Usina recklessly. After all, he was on an English ship, and this man had no authority over him.
“Would it surprise you for me to tell you that your name is Michael Usina?” the Yankee officer asked suddenly.
