Curse Of The Blue Tattoo Part 3

James Emerson Fletcher, Mids.h.i.+pman

9 Brattle Lane, London, England

Dear Jaimy, I dont know nothing about writing letters, Jaimy, this being the first one I ever wrote and I dont know how to do it so I am just going to plunge ahead and hope you will forgive me when I make a mess of it which I will.

I dont know if I like it here, Jaimy, I dont know at all. Tilly and the Captain and Deacon Dunne all put out their reasons for what they were going to do with me, but I still dont get it. Why couldnt they have put me off in London? They could have kept me in the brig for the crossing, I wouldna minded. I wouldna caused no trouble just cause I was a girl. In London I woulda at least had a chance to see you or could at least known I was in the same town as you, but no ... You dont know this, Jaimy, but when the Dolphin was warped out of the harbor today with you on it and me not, I could see it from a window at the school, it being up on a hill and I could see the harbor all spread out below and the s.h.i.+p with all its flags flying and guns saluting and looking so glorious that it fairly tore my heart out, it did.

Its my first day here and already I cant wait to get away. Oh, the bunks are clean and the grub is good, but I dont know if I like the company of girls very much. These girls here, youd think theyd be a bunch of prim pampered little princesses but, no, they aint, theyre like any bunch of thirty or so cats thrown in to a sack and shaken up good. Theyre mean in ways that boys never even thought of being. I am all at sea about this becoming a lady business, too, and I dont know if Im ever going to get any better at it. I wish with all my heart that they would just give me back my money and let me go back to you.

I know I am whining and I am sorry, but all I really want to do is bury my face in your neck and whimper and cry and have you pat my back and say everythings all right, Jacky, in your lovely deep voice, and then I would forget about everything else and be happy. I loved it when I heard you say my name. I miss it more than you could know, a simple thing like that. I loved your letter, too, Jaimy, I did and I live only in hopes of getting another one soon.

Please keep me in your thoughts and speak kindly of me to others if you can, especially your mum and dad. Give my regards to the Brotherhood and all the other seamen on the Dolphin. Liam especially. Tell that Davy to be good.

I regret to report that your ring is no longer in my ear as befits a proper sailor, it being forcibly removed by the school's Mistress and an evil one she is, I can tell you. The ring now is on a string around my neck and it rests against my breast, close to my heart. Know, Jaimy, that every night I go to sleep clutching it in my fist and thinking only of you. I will pray for your health and safety, and worry about you constantly, not being there to watch your back myself and keep you from charging pirates and challenging people to duels and otherwise risking your brave foolish neck, not that I was able to stop you before but at least I was there.

I know. I am a mess and I am making a fine mess of this paper with my tears running off the end of my nose and blurring the ink, but I cant help it. I will write again in a few days.

Oh, Jaimy, I just wish we were back in our lovely hammock on the dear Dolphin and I was just your secret girl again, I do.

Yours forever, Jacky The chimes calling us to supper ring out as I am carefully blotting my letter. I fold it and put it up my sleeve as I have neither pocket nor purse. I wipe my nose and eyes, and hoping I don't look a total mess, I go and join Amy in the dining room.

The grace is given, not by me this time, thank G.o.d, but by a bloke at the head table, sitting next to Mistress. Supper is, as Amy said, a much smaller affair than dinner, but it is still quite good. We have a pie made from some sort of bird with vegetables and gravy all in it. I'm getting better with the tools and don't have to watch Amy so closely this time. These biscuits are sinfully good.

"So where do you come from, Miss?" says I to break the silence. "Do you have a family? A mum and dad, like, brothers or sisters?"

I know she still does not quite know what to make of me. "Yes," she replies, "we have a farm in Quincy. I have a brother and his name is Randall. He attends the college across the river."

"Ah," I says, "a poor farm girl with a poor scholar for a brother. No wonder the little princesses won't have nothing to do with you. And where's this Quincy, then?"

"It is to the south. About fifteen miles."

"Ah," I say, and let the talk peter out. She is sure a gloomy one, she is.

I notice that the teachers don't come to this meal, just Mistress and that cove what said the grace and what's got on a white collar like two square wings on the throat of his black coat. All the rest of his clothes is black, too, but that ain't nothin' new around here. The other teachers prolly live close by and only take the noon dinner with us, I figures, and takes breakfast and supper with their own families.

"Who's he?" I ask, pointin' him out with my fork.

She glances over and says, "That is the Very Reverend Richard Mather. He is our Spiritual Advisor. He has the church next door. He is also a trustee and member of the board of this school. We go over there for services on Sunday morning and prayer meeting on Wednesday night. He takes his suppers here. He has no wife."

I see that one of the girls is eating with them, Mistress Pimm and the Reverend sitting side by side and the girl sitting across from them, her back toward us. That selfsame back is being held rigidly straight and it does not seem to be enjoying itself, overmuch.

"That girl there?" I ask, nodding toward the head table. Amy looks over.

"That is Dolley Frazier. Each night, one of us is invited to dine with them. It is not supposed to be a pleasure. It is a test-a test of your manners, comportment, knowledge of etiquette, demeanor, and spiritual depth. And you get no warning as to when it is your turn. You will be expected to rise to the occasion."

"Ah." I look over at the unlucky girl. I know she wants desperately to be back with her mates and I note how she holds her shoulders and feet and elbows 'cause I know it'll be my turn over there someday soon.

After supper, lamps are lit in the tea room and we are left to ourselves again. Clarissa and her crew chatter and giggle, but Amy don't do nothin' but read and so I study my French book till the words begin to slide off the page and my head starts in to noddin'.

I feel myself fallin' over to one side and Amy says, "It must have been a long day for you," and I snap my head up with a jerk and weaves back and forth and says, "Right. But, I'm all right. What are you reading?"

"The Federalist," says Amy. "It is political matter."

"Myself, I like the novels," I says. "I just finished Moll Flanders and Robinson Crusoe and some of Captain Cook's writings about his voyages and-"

"Wherever did you get those books?" she asks, and seems to be in genuine wonder.

"Don't you have those books here?" I don't want to tell her that I sort of borrowed those books from the mids.h.i.+pmen's berth. "How 'bout Poor Nell, A Girl of the Streets? And A General History of the Most Notorious Pyrates?"

Her eyes widen. "No. We have no such books here."

"Well, don't worry," I says, all cheerful. "I saw a bookseller's on the way here today, so we'll get some soon and we'll curl up with 'em right here."

I close my French book and put my head back against the soft leather of the chair. I close my eyes and ask, "What do we do tomorrow?"

"Equestrian in the morning. All morning," she says. "Art, Penmans.h.i.+p, Arithmetic, and Music in the afternoon."

Music!

"But what's this 'questrian?" I asks.

"Horses," says Amy. "The riding and management thereof."

I shudder and turn back to my studies.

At the ringing of a handbell, we march back to the dormitory and there is a great rush for the stalls in the privy to wash up and change. Each girl takes her bedclothes from a chest of drawers next to her bed and I pull mine out of my sea chest and wait till there is a free washroom and then go in and latch the door and pour some water from the pitcher into the basin. There is a piece of soap in a little dish. I doff my clothes and wash and dry and then get into my own gown and cap. I let the water out of the basin and notice that it runs out the bottom through a pipe that goes through the wall. Isn't this just the most amazing thing, I thinks. Prolly goes out into the garden, or something.

I warily poke my head out of the stall, sure that Clarissa and her bunch ain't layin' for me with somethin' nasty planned, like soaking me down with water or holding me down and beating me, but they don't. They're off chattering in a circle around Clarissa and paying me no mind. Good.

I take my regular clothes back to my chest of drawers and I carefully lay my uniform dress out in a drawer of its own. There is a net bag in the bottom drawer and I do not know what it is for but I'm sure I will find out. I hang my towel on the hook at the head of my bed.

Amy comes back from the privy decked out in her own nightclothes and I look to her to see what to do next. Climbing into my bunk and going to sleep seems much too simple, and I am right. Mistress comes briskly into the room and taps her rod once on the deck and says, "Prayers."

There is the sound of knees. .h.i.tting the floor as all the girls kneel next to their beds, and so I do the same. I glance around and see that everybody has their hands in prayerful att.i.tude and is mumbling away, and I do the same. I figures "Now I lay me down to sleep" will work and then the Lord's Prayer, can't go wrong with that, and then I hear some of the nearby girls blessing their mums and dads and sisters and brothers so I sets in to blessing Jaimy and Tink and Davy and w.i.l.l.y and Liam and Snag and Captain Locke and Mr. Lawrence and, yes, even Mr. Haywood and the rest of the Dolphins and then puts in a word for the ones pa.s.sed on like Benjy and Rooster Charlie and Grant and Spence, and then I'm mentioning Johnny No Toes and Hugh the Grand and Polly and Nancy and Judy of the Blackfriars Bridge gang when I notice Mistress standing next to me and I stops reelin' off the names. I guess I've blessed enough.

She taps her cane twice on the floor and the girls pile into their beds.

Mistress says, "Good night, girls."

"Good night, Mistress," we all say.

Mistress herself goes about and snuffs the lamps. Soon all is darkness.

A great wave of weariness sweeps over me even though I ain't done no real work today, and with the weariness comes the hopelessness of homesickness, too, that awful feelin' that things ain't never gonna get any better than they are now, and I'm startin' to wet my pillow with my tears but I got to stop it. I can't let them hear me cry, I can't. You got to look on the bright side of things now, I tells myself. The truth is no one tried to hang you today or even threatened you with it. You were not thrown naked into the street. You were beaten but not insensible. All those things have happened to you before, but not today. True, you've got to contend with horses tomorrow and I know you ain't lookin' forward to that, and that Clarissa is hateful and awful but at least she's not tryin' to actually kill you. Mistress is as stern as any Bo'sun or officer, but did the First Mate come to you every night on the Dolphin with a gla.s.s of warm milk and a kiss to tuck you in? No, he did not. So stop your complainin'.

I burrow down under the covers and curl up in a ball and clasp Jaimy's ring in my hand, and having already prayed for his health and safety, I start to fall into sleep. It is hard to believe that only this morning I woke from such sleep on the Dolphin. Such a long time ago, a world away it seems.

Chapter 2.

Sleep is shattered the next morning by the ringing of yet another bell. I curse the ringer of the bell and throw back the covers and get out and pull my drawers and my s.h.i.+ft from the sea chest and take my towel and stumble off to the washroom.

I'm the first one in and so have my pick of the stalls. I guess the others ain't used to bein' awakened for night watches by the Bo'sun, him what calls once and whacks second if you ain't up and on the deck right quick. I notice that the pitcher is full of water again and that the water is warm. The serving girls must have been in and I didn't even hear 'em, poor things. I wonder what time they had to get up.

So I whips off me cap and nightgown, takes care of the necessaries, and washes up. I runs the toothbrush what Tilly give me over the soap and then over my teeth, rinse and spit, and then I squints at myself in the mirror and decides that my hair will do for one more day, especially seein' as how I don't know how the was.h.i.+n' of hair is done around here and from the looks of some of 'em, it ain't been a real regular practice.

Goin' back into the main sleeping room in my s.h.i.+ft and drawers, my bare feet slappin' on the floor, I see that half of 'era ain't even out of bed yet, Amy included. Clarissa's up, though.

Good. I throw on my dress and stockings and shoes and quickly make my bed, and then I head out to explore. Let's see what this s.h.i.+p has in the way of secrets.

First, I go down the hall and down the stairs and down another hall to the foyer to see if the front door is kept locked. It is. Or, at least it's locked now, but maybe that's on account of it's early. The lock has a latch on the inside and I quietly slide it over and pull open the ma.s.sive door and look at the outside of the door-there is no keyhole, which means the door can only be locked from the inside. It also means that I'll have to find some other way of gettin' in and out of this ark if I want to explore Boston like I mean to do.

I makes sure the latch is off and then I step out into the light, and there below me all Boston is laid out on this fine late August day, the Common all green with its beasts scattered about, the buildings of the town all neat and orderly, and the harbor sparkling in the distance. There is a slight breeze that blows the hair that's got out of my pigtail about my face and if I close my eyes I'm up in the rigging and we're one day out from Boston and it's, let's see, about six bells in the Four-to-Eight watch and ... no, stop it.

I open my eyes and it occurs to me that this is the first time I have been free in a long, long time. I could walk down into that city and disappear forever, as far as the Lawson Peabody School for Young Girls is concerned. Sort of free, that is ... free to starve to death ... or to Fall into Iniquity as Deacon Dunne would have it ... and all my stuff is inside and how could I make my way without my whistle or me s.h.i.+v or ...

Click!

The door has locked behind me! Someone has ... That Clarissa! She must have seen me leave the dormitory and followed me! d.a.m.n!

I go up to the door in a panic. Already I can feel the cane on the backs of my legs. I dare not pound on the door 'cause Mistress might answer it and where would I be then? Stretched across her desk with my skirt up, that's where. I've got to find another way in.

I run around the side of the school and see nothing on that side and then run around the back-nothing! I continue pounding around to the other side and there! The land slopes down and away and at the bottom there's a door to a lower level. I careens down the slope and tries the door. It's open and I go in.

I find myself in the kitchen and it is filled with the smell of frying bacon and toasting bread and there are girls chattering and laughing and scurrying around getting ready to cart it all upstairs and serve it to the ladies and in the middle of it all is a large woman in an ap.r.o.n standing at a huge stove and directing who's to take what.

"Betsey! The bread baskets! Get 'em up there and see if they're ready to eat yet. Annie, take up the tea!"

"Yes, Peggy, we got it we..."

That's when they notice me and the place goes quiet. There are two other girls seated at a table finis.h.i.+ng up their own breakfasts and they stand up upon seeing me. The cook asks me, "Yes, Miss, how can we help you?"

"I'm sorry," I stammer. "But I locked myself out the front door. Could you..."

"If it pleases you, Miss, just follow Betsey there. She'll show you the way up."

The girl with the bread turns and heads out of the kitchen and I follow. I do not put on the Look. I do, however, take note of what's down here. After the kitchen we go through what appears to be the laundry with big washtubs and a wet floor. There's a room with brooms and mops and buckets. Also tools and a coil of rope. Then we go up a flight of stairs and the girl Betsey sticks the breadbasket on her hip and opens the latch on the door at the top and lets me through and I'm back in the cla.s.sroom hallway, again.

"Thank you, Betsey," I say, and she just blushes and nods. She is the shyer of the two sisters, I see, but I make her talk by asking, "The front door. Is it always kept locked?"

"Yes, Miss."

"And if I were to go out and came back later and rapped on the knocker, you or one of the others would come and let me in?"

"Yes, Miss," she says. "Or sometimes Mistress."

Oh.

"What about the kitchen door? Downstairs."

"That's not locked, Miss. Not till after we clean up after supper and go home. Then Peg locks up."

I have gotten some useful information.

I get to the dining hall and says, "Hey, Mate," and sits down across from Amy yet again. I look around the room and it seems that this meal is a good deal less formal than the others, as the girls pile right into the tea and toast and there ain't no grace. I see some of the girls put their hands together and mumble one to themselves, but I figure I prayed enough yesterday to hold me for a long while and so grabs a roll as soon as Betsey sets 'em down. The teacher table is empty. I guess Mistress doesn't do this one. Prolly back in her room with a pipe and a cup of coffee.

I look for some sign in Clarissa that she was the one what marooned me outside, but I can't see none. She serenely holds court, the center of all attention, a G.o.ddess in her heaven. She and some of the other girls have on what I reckon are riding clothes and they look quite smart, d.a.m.n them.

"What's the rule on going outside the school?" I asks of Amy.

Once again she looks confused. I find that I am good at confusing her. But then she answers.

"But of course we could never go out without an escort, so I imagine that has never been stated as an actual rule." She thinks for a bit more and then goes on. "Of course, our parents can take us out for holidays, and the local girls go home for the weekends, generally. I suppose my brother could escort me if I ever wanted to go anywhere ... Not that he ever would."

"Oh yes. You said you have a brother."

"Yes, Randall. He is eighteen. The college he attends across the river, in Cambridge, is a real school. Not like this." She sniffs.

"Well, Mate, maybe someday he can come over and escort us around the town," I says. "There's some taverns down on the docks I'd like to check out."

I don't catch her reply to this 'cause a platter of eggs is brought up to me and I scoops up a couple and slides 'em on my plate and snags a brace of bacon strips to keep 'em company. I looks at the eggs in all their yellow-yolked beauty lying there on my plate.

"And what's your name, then?" I ask of the girl holdin' the platter with the eggs and bacon. She was one of the girls sitting at the table when I came in the kitchen door.

"Abby, Mum," says the girl.

"Well, thank you, Abby, and please tell Peggy I think she's some cook."

Abby smiles and says, "Yes'm."