by Danni Roan
***
Xenia made her way below deck to the little room where she, Barnaby and Birch had been imprisoned on their first night aboard.
Rummaging in the straw she found her dress and boots. With all the other sailors gone this was the best time to stow her dress for when they made their way ashore.
Shaking the straw from the crumpled green dress Xenia held it up to her slim form swishing it slightly. Trousers and a sturdy shirt were liberating in many ways, but she still missed the dress and its trappings. Well perhaps not the corset.
Bundling the items together Xenia made her way back to her quarters burying her dress and under things deep beneath the few items they’d been given.
Looking around the room, hung with at least eight sailcloth hammocks, Xenia studied the space. She, Barnaby and Birch had moved their hammocks to the furthest side of the small stuffy room keeping themselves to themselves as they tried to avoid anyone getting too friendly.
So far she’d managed to find a discreet place to take care of business and always kept her face to the wall when in her rack so as not to be exposed to the men in various forms of undress.
Making her way around the room she tidied up the small space she and her two companions had chosen. It seemed odd to have so little to do while still stranded on the ship.
“You lookin’ for somethin’ to do?” Barnaby asked ducking into the low room.
“Yes, and no,” Xenia admitted. “I’m just not sure what I should be doing. Do I cook, do I clean? What?” She shrugged knowing that much of her discontent had been caused by her feelings about Birch.
“Go check the stores, then make a small meal for us,” Barnaby suggested. “It’ll keep you out of trouble.”
Xenia laughed, as much as she hated to admit it, she had to agree with the old sailor.
Spontaneously Xenia tipped up on her toes and kissed the grizzled old man on the cheek then dashed away. It was nice to be herself at least for a little time.
***
Grabbing her bucket of paraffin wax and a candle Xenia headed down into the hold where the food stores were kept. Further below she could hear the pumps working and smiled knowing that Barnaby and Birch must have taken on the job of pumping water from the bowels of the ship.
No matter how well built a ship was, you always had some leakage, a fact that had startled and to some extent frightened Xenia on her first days aboard.
Examining each barrel with care Xenia patched any cracks in the slats, or filled the spaces around the seals with hot wax. The best way to keep the food fresh was to maintain the seals. Xenia had taken to heart the advice Barnaby had given her and was determined to provide the best meals possible for the crew.
Hopefully they’d focus on the food and not her. It was the one thing she could control in this whole mess that was her current life.
Making her way a little deeper into the storage area a slight scratching came to her ears, and she froze gazing around her at the deep shadows.
Again the scratching sound met her ears, and she turned shining the meager light of her candle in the directions her ears had pinpointed.
A pair of glowing beady eyes glared back at Xenia and she screamed, splitting the silence of the dark room with a jarring screech.
Birch raced up the stairs from the bilge running hard toward the sound of Xenia’s shrieks and sliding into the room just as a heavy thumping and stomping met his ears.
“Xenia! Xenia! Are you all right?” He called making his way to her.
Xenia turned falling into his arms. “A rat, a rat,” she growled turning her face from the battered body of the offending creature.
As the menacing beast had scuttled toward her she’d lifted a heavy board and hit it as hard as she could.
“It’s all right honey,” Birch said. “It’s dead.”
Barnaby trotted into the room holding a shovel in his hands. “I knew I couldn’t keep ahead of the varmints.”
Xenia pulled away from Birch turning to look at Barnaby. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“I’ been huntin’ all the critters I can and tossin’ them over board best I can.”
Xenia rushed to the old sailor wrapping her arms around his wiry form. “I’m sure glad you got shanghaied,” she said with a laugh. “I’d be in big trouble without you.”
Barnaby patted the girl awkwardly on the shoulder. “Least you should have a cat by morning,” he chuckled.
Chapter 15
Xenia spent the rest of the afternoon on the deck breathing in the warm air that drifted toward the distant shore.
She dreaded going back into the storage area to gather resources for their dinner and breakfast, but steeling her spine, she grabbed her candle and entered once more.
Never again would she let a rat frighten her so. There were far worse things in life than rats, she told herself. Still she shuddered slightly as she passed the spot where the bludgeoned carcass had been mere hours ago.
“Best look sharp,” Barnaby said after they finished their dinner, “I ‘spect the captain will be back before long. He ain’t wasting’ not time with ports if he can avoid it.”
Xenia cleaned the galley, set the breakfast oats to soak and headed for her bed. She wished she had been able to send a letter to Wiggie telling her that she was safe, but she knew that would be breaking her bargain with the captain. For now she needed to stay hidden in plain sight until she could make her way to California.
***
The clatter of men and freight being hauled over the rail woke Xenia while the sky was still bright with stars.
Swinging her bare feet to the floor she raced to the deck grabbing a lantern and reaching the rail before Birch or Barnaby could catch up.
A burly sailor braced a crate on the top rail and looked up at Xenia a battered lopsided grin that showed a newly missing’ tooth.
Xenia grasped the heavy crate in both hands scanning over the vegetables roots it held then hurried off toward the galley while Birch and Barnaby helped with supplies.
“Tell Zeke we got ‘is cat,” Gobbs spat as a yowling and hissing crate was hauled up the side of the ship.
Hearing the words, Xenia dropped her burden in the galley and raced back to the rail as the last crew member climbed aboard and began hauling up the side of the boat.
A large wooden crate was just visible as the first hints of a gray dawn appeared over the horizon and Xenia scooted closer trying to see inside.
The fierce growls, hisses, and grumbles emanating from the box did not seem to bode well for the animal’s temperament.
Hefting the crate by the rope holding it closed Xenia waddled awkwardly toward the food storage area, hurrying to take the cat to its new home. The beast must be a monster based on how heavy the crate was.
As Xenia slipped inside the store room closing the door she settled the crate in a dark corner then ran back to the galley for a sliver of the fish Birch had caught earlier that day.
The fiercest of the yowls had ebbed by the time she skidded back into the cramped storehouse, candle in hand.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Xenia soothed once the door was tightly shut. “Just calm down and I’ll give you something to eat.”
She dropped a tiny piece of fish through a slat catching the glint of a golden eye with a flicker of flame from her candle.
More growling and chewing could be heard as she waited for the cat to acclimate to its new home.
“You’ll like it here,” Xenia said, hoping her words were true. “There are lots of big juicy rats about for you to feast on and I’ll bring you scraps whenever I can.”
A shadow of movement inside the crate indicated that the cat was no longer struggling but settling in to watch and listen.
Xenia continued to talk softly to the brute hoping it would learn her voice and soon trust her. She didn’t need the thing disappearing and possibly dying on board.
After several minutes Xenia scooted to the crate untying the ropes and liftin
g the lid but nothing happened. Making sure that the cat could see that freedom awaited she settled in to wait until the animal climbed from the crate into its new home.
After what seemed like ages a large round head peeked above the crate looking about as it sniffed the air.
In the flicker of candle light Xenia could see that the animal was missing one eye and that over time its empty socket had shrunken sealing itself shut.
The twitching nose of the animal rose higher as it glared around the room then lifted front paws to the edge of the crate.
Xenia covered her mouth to keep from gasping, the animal was huge easily as big as a terrier with a round head and large battered ears.
Little by little the cat eased itself out of the crate its ponderous belly swaying as it made the final leap and slunk into the shadows of the barrels.
Xenia smiled. She wasn’t getting two cats, she was getting one gigantic mama cat that was about to have a whole litter of kittens. She couldn’t help but chuckle noting how the cat’s one good eye turned gleaming at her when she did.
“Looks like you got here in the nick of time,” Xenia said. “You’ll have all of this and more to raise your young in then you can teach them to hunt and hopefully our rat problem will be solved.”
Peeling off another piece of fish Xenia tossed it into the middle of the circle of light and waited. She could see the cat sniffing then watched as it slowly stalked toward the food.
Once the cat had devoured the first morsel Xenia tossed another piece toward her placing it neatly between herself and the cat, forcing the animal to come closer if it wanted more food.
“Now what shall I call you?” Xenia mused as the cat snatched up the next piece of fish her one golden orb fixed on Xenia. “I’m afraid you’re rather ugly and I don’t even know what color to call you. Orange and black is an odd combination,” she wondered, as she tossed out another piece of fish.
The big ugly cat crept closer always keeping Xenia in sight as it grabbed the next piece of fish but it seemed to be calmer now. The hackles along its back had settled and the matted long hair had smoothed to some extent.
“I think we’ll get along just fine now won’t we?” Xenia asked “Now all you need is a name.”
She stared at the cat tossing the last scrap of fish in its direction. “I guess you’re stuck on this boat with me now,” Xenia thought with some regret. Had the animal been treated any differently than the men who had been shanghaied? No, but somehow she suspected as she watched the beast tearing at the meat that it might fare better on the ship than it had on shore.
As she watched the cat finish the last scrap of food sniffing about on the hard wooden floor for any morsel that may have escaped an old song about the ocean drifted into Xenia’s mind.
“I know,” she smiled wishing she could scratch the cat’s ears the way she would a pet, “I’ll call you Bonnie, like in the song. My Bonnie lies over the ocean, my Bonnie lies over the sea, my Bonnie lies over the ocean, now bring back my Bonnie to me.”
Xenia smiled as the cat turned nicked ears in her direction honing in on her with its one good eye. “I think we’ll soon be good friends Bonnie,” Xenia said rising reluctantly and heading for the door. “Now I’m off to fix breakfast for this crew.”
Above the men were busy making ready and soon the ship was heading out to sea a black silhouette adrift in the rising sun.
Xenia had breakfast ready as the ship turned from port and one by one the men, some battered as if they’d been in a brawl made their way through the line.
Gobbs glared at her as he took his meal a suspicious light in his eyes. Behind him one of the junior crew cringed as he took his mug and plate, his deeply scratched hands looking sore and raw.
Xenia frowned feeling the tiniest tinge of guilt that the man had suffered for her to have a cat on board.
“It’s al’ight,” the man said winking at her. “You keeps feedin’ me good and I’ll bring ya any beast ya want boy. A little briny and I’ll be right as rain.”
Xenia smiled with relief. Barnaby was right a man’s stomach was the way to his heart.
The thought of hearts made her think back to Birch and the kiss but she pushed the thought away. She didn’t need extra emotions mingling with the ones already rumbling in her brain.
She would get Birch out of this mess then worry about everything else.
Chapter 16
The ship fell into a familiar routine as it headed further south toward the unsettled waters of the passage around Cape Horn.
Over the next few days Xenia wooed the cat with scraps from her own plate. She cringed when the big brute had caught a few mice in the storage room and turned away when the beast had crunched through the tiny rodent’s skulls.
On the fourth day of the renewed journey however, Xenia couldn’t find the cat and panicked thinking she may have escaped.
As Xenia searched the store room a tiny mewing drew her to a bundle of rags behind a barrel and she smiled seeing the wriggling kittens kneading at their mother’s belly.
“Well what have we here,” Xenia giggled placing a scrap of meat before the wary mother. “Looks like you’re a mama now Bonnie.”
The cat watched Xenia but ate the morsel then returned to licking her kittens as a deep satisfied purr filled her chest.
“I think I’m safe to leave the door open now,” Xenia said carefully reaching out and running a finger over the smallest kitten. “You’ll want to hunt bigger game to keep up with this lot.”
“That beast of a cat of yers is cleaning house,” Barnaby said to Xenia a few days later as he hauled lines and she headed for the top of the mast. “You was real smart askin’ for it.”
Xenia couldn’t agree more, not only was the cat doing a good job of keeping rats and other varmints out of the food stores, she had become a confidant to Xenia, something that she could talk to and share her inner thoughts with about a certain companion with deep gray eyes.
As much as she appreciated Birch and Barnaby, that single kiss from the man she’d sworn to rescue had changed everything, including the way she looked at the man.
Xenia was also worried about the trip around the horn, she’d heard stories from the sailors, and Barnaby had fallen all too serious when she brought it up.
In the off hours of her day Xenia would often fetch a bit of paper she’d wrangled from the captain and scribble a note to Wiggie, Wendi or Vera telling of her adventures on the high sea while she sat watching over the little yellow and white kittens who squirmed and meowed or slept piled one on top of the other, while their mother hunted.
Somehow talking to the cat and even scribbling her little notes made Xenia feel like she wasn’t so far from home and everyone she loved.
***
Stars sparkled in a night sky as Xenia scrabbled aloft to the crow’s nest to keep watch. The days had been sweltering, but the nights fresh and cool as a southern breeze pushed the ship toward the horn.
Xenia had been listening to the other sailors as they discussed making the turn and pressing for the Pacific Ocean.
She was excited and full of trepidation at the same time, but hope still filled her heart. If the passage was good, they would be making their way north toward San Francisco.
When they finally entered the current that would carry them around the tip of South America Xenia didn’t know what to think.
“Look sharp Lad,” The Captain called as a brisk wind began to blow. The air had cooled considerably over the past few days, and the men were constantly adjusting and readjusting the sails to keep some forward momentum going.
Xenia looked aloft across the sea at the jagged cliffs that seemed to drop into the ocean as if sliced by the hand of God.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” She called back as she watched for obstacles along their route.
The further they sailed westward, at what seemed to Xenia to be the bottom of the world, the more the wind seemed to be against them, and the waves began to build.
Xenia felt her heart flutter in her chest as an icy blast of air slacked the sails and the crew scrabbled to adjust.
Below her on the deck she could see Birch and Barnaby hauling lines and setting sail as Gobbs called all hands on deck.
When the ship began to pitch and roll heading directly into the high choppy waves, Xenia offered up a prayer for their safe passage, and held tight as the ship dropped into the short trough of a wave then bounded up the other side.
Xenia’s knuckles were white from clinging to the edge of the crow’s nest when she was finally relieved, but for once the fast climb down to the deck seemed harrowing and slow as Xenia clung to the rigging for dear life.
“Are you all right?” Birch asked when Xenia’s feet hit the deck. “Go get warmed up,” he urged as she hurried to the galley to get something hot on for the men.
A fire was already going in the cook stove as a battered sailor sat in a chair a hasty bandage wrapped around his head.
“Gobbs said ta fix da fire and wait for ya to fix me head,” the man said.
Xenia quickly pulled a heavy pan onto the hob and filled it with water then cleaned the man’s wound. “What happened?” she asked as she pulled down sheeting to wrap the wound.
“Took a tumble dinn’I?” the man barked. “Was headin’ below for a barrel, and we hit a nasty turn and down I went.”
Xenia shook her head wondering if she could expect more of these things as they made the turn. “Is this common?” Xenia asked.
The sailor shrugged as she finished wrapping his head. “Cape Horn is hard, I’ll be happy ta see da other side.” With his last word he rose to his feet and headed back out onto the pounding deck.
Xenia braced her legs apart and began preparation for dinner. If this got much worse, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to actually cook, but she would do her best.
Already she’d been watering the cider and adding molasses to the stale water to make it possible for each of them to stay healthy; add in the weather, and someone was bound to get sick.
