Aboard Providence

by Keely Brooke Keith

  While Mr. Weathermon questioned God’s goodness, Jonah picked up the key that had fallen from the captain’s pocket. He glanced at the Davenport desk as he remembered its significance. The ship’s deed was locked away. There would be no selling the ship for Captain Frakes, nor profit or Brazilian bride or retirement in a little casa.

  Jonah turned away from his father and Mr. Weathermon. He dropped his forehead against the moist wood of the cabin door and clutched the key in his hand. They might never make it to land now. He might never make it back to America. As much as he wanted to bemoan their ruined plans, all he could think of was the dead captain, the lost ship, and the children aboard who might not get the chance to grow up.

  * * *

  The wind ceased its violent moans long after midnight, but Marian still could not sleep. Captain Frakes was dead. They had said he died so quickly he did not feel any pain. After working hard for more than three months to take their group to a new land, he died before he could earn his pay. It did not seem fair.

  She rested on her berth, her fingers twined in the edge of her musty quilt. If sleep would not come, she could at least go above deck for fresh air.

  Moving as quietly as possible, she peeled back the bedclothes and slipped her feet into her shoes. When she ascended the steps, the starlight that spilled across the deck drew her eyes to the sky. The nighttime sky of the Southern Hemisphere was full of stars, each vying for a chance to outshine the others.

  She drew in a long breath of the ocean air and held the rail as she glanced about the ship. A line of light glowed beneath the door of the captain’s cabin. Doctor Ashton and Jonah were probably still in there with Mr. Weathermon.

  It was Mr. Weathermon who had taken the captain’s death the hardest. His voice had cracked more than once during his eulogy when they buried the captain at sea. Despite his occasionally harsh demeanor to some in the group, he had always been jovial with the Ashtons and Captain Frakes and it seemed unfair that he should lose one of his few friends.

  The air above deck was cool and she wished she had brought her shawl with her. She buried her hands in her sleeves for warmth. Seeing no one on deck, she walked toward the bench near the ship’s bow.

  “Please be careful,” a voice came from behind her. Startled, she looked back.

  Jonah was walking toward her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He stepped close. His hair dropped across his forehead and he didn’t bother pushing it back. “I’d rather you not stand at the bow of the ship tonight—or ever—after what happened to Captain Frakes.”

  She nodded, accepting his concern for her, and lowered herself to the bench amidships. He sat beside her and propped his elbows on his knees. She waited for him to talk about the captain’s death, but he didn’t say anything. His silence emanated despair as he slowly rubbed his palms together.

  She reached her hand to his back, wanting to comfort him, but not knowing what to do. He had touched her often and easily, but she feared her initiation of touch might seem forward. Her hand hovered there over his back, an inch from the wool of his coat. When her skin finally touched him, she felt wise and grown, as if her childhood was at last behind her along with her girlish insecurity. She could comfort someone other than her family, even a man who admired her. “Were you and the captain close familiars?”

  He pressed his fingertips together and stared at the peak his fingers made. “We got along well. He didn’t seem to mind me being in his cabin all the time. I think he saw me as a younger brother or a nephew of sorts. He and Mr. Weathermon were old chums though. Mr. Weathermon is bereft.”

  “Will he be all right?”

  “He will have to be. He’s the only hope we have now of finding land and he knows it.” Jonah shifted positions and leaned back without acknowledging her touch. “Our plans are ruined.”

  She pulled her hand away and tucked her cold fingers in her lap. “Not ruined… only complicated.”

  “There is that optimism of yours.”

  “We will find the land we’re meant to have and someday you will see your dream of being a doctor come true.” She wished he didn’t have to go back to Philadelphia, but wanted to encourage him nonetheless. “Perhaps Mr. Weathermon will help you get to a port, or you can take the ship yourself, or—”

  “I’m not as concerned about that now as I am for… I don’t want this voyage to be the end of Sarah’s life or my brothers. I want them to have a chance to grow up. This all seems so final.”

  “No, Jonah, it’ll be—”

  He let out a frustrated groan and looked her in the eye. “You aren’t going to tell me everything will be all right, are you?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “How? How will everything come out all right?”

  “I don’t know, but it will.”

  “We will float out here until we die.”

  “Fine. Then we will die and in death everything will be all right.”

  Jonah froze, his eyes wide, and she waited for an angry response, but it never came. He stood and she thought he was going to walk away, rejecting her and her optimism, but he only took off his coat, draped it over her shoulders, and sat beside her again. “I need you in my life, Marian. But I’ve already told you that. What do you need?”

  “Hm?” The question surprised her. His admiration and affection surprised her. The air, the stars, the sails all faded into the great nothing of the universe and all that remained was the man beside her. She released the breath that was locked in her lungs and tried to form a logical response. “Solid ground would be nice.”

  “What do you need that I can provide?”

  No one had asked her that before. After a moment’s rumination, she regained her mental acuity and smiled. “Occupation. My mother is happy with the baby. Cecelia is old enough to take care of herself. I’ve finished my schooling, and there aren’t many chores. I brought one small book of botanical terms with me and I’ve read it so many times, I have it memorized. I need something new to occupy my mind.”

  The edge of his mouth bent in half a smile. “How can I help?”

  “I’d like to read some of your textbooks.”

  He drew his head back a degree. “Medical textbooks?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ll need to know more Latin than Mrs. Owens taught us in school to understand most of the terms.”

  She liked a challenge and felt instantly awakened. “Did you bring a Latin book?”

  He chuckled lightly. “I did.”

  “Then I’d like to borrow that also.”

  “It’s yours. Everything I have is yours.” His voice was low and his gaze unwavering. “Come with me if I get the chance to sail home. I might never have the chance to go back, but if I do, I don’t want to lose you. Please, say you will go with me.”

  The matter deserved more consideration, but she could not deny the longing to be with him no matter where that took her, and though he had not confessed his love outright, his desperation seemed to hold the power of devotion.

  No one needed her like he did, and those who had needed her, never asked about her needs. He could care for her and provide an interesting life for her, though it would not be the adventure in a new land that she craved. The thought of life without him drenched her in a melancholy she would do anything to avoid. “I will, Jonah. If you find a way to return to America, I will go with you.”

  He slipped his arm around her and drew her close to his side. She settled into the warmth that radiated from his body and looked over the ocean to the east where the endless stars dimmed as they twinkled past the horizon. The slow rise and fall of each breath moved his side against her in a rhythm that matched the movement of the ship. Her body had grown used to the constant motion of the sea, so the stability of being held by the man she loved awakened desires she had not anticipated.

  Jonah pressed his face against the top of her head. “This has been the longest day of my life. When I came out here, I just wanted the night to be over, b
ut now with you beside me, I hope it never ends.”

  She absorbed the tenderness of his words, but disagreed. She let her head rest against his collar. “We’ve been through so much. We need a new day. Mercy comes with the dawn.”

  “Then wait here with me for the sunrise.”

  A soft but cold wind moved through the ropes along the masts. It whistled behind her and Jonah as they watched the black sky lighten. Lavender-gray light rose from the horizon, splitting the seascape in two. The glow of morning doused the stars’ twinkle and the new day chased the darkness across the sky.

  All at once, the deck of the ship began to rumble. They both stood but the sensation buckled her knees. She gripped Jonah’s arm with one hand and the bench with the other. As she glanced up at him, the air changed—not in temperature or humidity, but she felt a strange sort of pressure all around her. Her ears popped, and glints of light flashed through the air. She gasped. “What is happening?”

  “I don’t know.” Jonah gathered her close to him and pulled her back down to the bench as the shower of light dissolved in the air around them.

  A faint blur broke the horizon to the west. She blinked rapidly, fearing it was a mirage, but the smudge of brown and green remained. She shot to her feet. “Land!”

  “What?” Jonah blew out the question as he stood behind her. “It is! It’s land!”

  Her skin prickled as he hurried them toward the sterncastle. He threw open the door and rushed her inside. Mr. Weathermon and Doctor Ashton jumped from their seats at the chart table.

  Doctor Ashton asked, “What’s going on?”

  “It’s land! We saw land!” Jonah announced. “There is something strange in the air though. The atmosphere seemed to change and that smell… what is that smell?”

  Mr. Weathermon went to the windows and sniffed the air. “Eucalyptus or evergreens?”

  Doctor Ashton remained seated. “No, something much stronger. Definitely a botanical scent though.”

  Marian stayed near the open door and held out her hand trying to catch the mesmerizing flecks of light, but the air changed again and the strange lights and pressure ended as quickly as they had begun. She turned back to Jonah. “It stopped.”

  “Stay inside.” Jonah reached around her to pull the door closed. The ship rumbled again and then jolted, throwing them back against the cabinets. An echoing snap came from the beams below.

  Mr. Weathermon let out a surprised curse and Doctor Ashton gripped the edge of the berth.

  Marian entrenched her fingers into the fabric of Jonah’s sleeve.

  “Get down,” Jonah commanded, as he pulled her to the floor.

  Trapped, but safe between Jonah and the wall, Marian panted as her heartbeat rang in her ears. The wood of the ship groaned with an eerie bellow. Then all went still. Silent and blissfully still.

  After a few seconds of quiet, he loosened his grip on her. “Are you hurt?”

  Her fascination with whatever was happening outside dissipated in the sweetness of his protection. Her face was a whisper from his. “No, I’m fine.”

  “Stay here. I’m going to check on everyone down below.” He started to rise then stopped and lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was too quick and powerful for her to react. He grabbed his medical bag, stood, and reached for the door. Its bent hinges creaked as he opened it.

  Marian curled her legs close to her body as Mr. Weathermon dashed outside after Jonah. Once they were gone, she touched her fingers to her lips. Her cheeks felt flushed and when she glanced up to see Doctor Ashton grinning, the warmth in her face turned to fire. Too shaken to explain her growing relationship with his son, she let her head fall back against the wall and wrapped her arms beneath Jonah’s coat.

  “I’ve never seen my son in love.” Doctor Ashton lowered his chin. “I’m glad he has chosen you.”

  “Doctor Ashton, I—”

  He held up a hand. “Don’t worry, Marian. Jonah is not an impulsive man. Your heart is safe with him.”

  * * *

  Jonah stepped out of the sterncastle and the sight of the land in front of the ship stunned his already energized system. The ship was motionless, lodged in a shoal some hundred yards from a sandy foreshore and listing a few degrees portside. Beyond the beach, lush vegetation of hemlock and pine and myriad strange silvery trees hovered over grassy undergrowth.

  “Where are we?” Jonah pried his gaze off the picturesque land and glanced at Mr. Weathermon, who was also staring at the land, jaw hanging open.

  Mr. Weathermon shook his head and his thinning jowls wobbled. “We are nowhere near South America, I can promise you that.”

  Jonah envisioned the images on the maps on the chart table. “Ascension Island?”

  “We sailed farther south than Ascension and besides, it is too lush with greenery.”

  “Tristan da Cunah?”

  Mr. Weathermon stretched a palm toward the land. “Can’t be. There is no volcano.”

  “I’ll go below and make sure no one was hurt.”

  Jonah hurried toward the steps, and the passengers crowded the stairwell from below. He moved out of the way and they climbed up, all talking at once. As the people came on deck, Jonah gave them a quick visual examination to see if anyone had been injured in the ship’s sudden halt. Though jarred from their sleep and visibly shaken, all were well.

  Reverend Colburn pulled his suspenders over his shoulders and stepped between Jonah and Mr. Weathermon. “Have we run hard aground?”

  “Yes.” Mr. Weathermon confirmed. “However, on what ground, we don’t know.”

  “It is the land God has provided for us.” The reverend took a step forward then stopped and glanced back at Mr. Weathermon. “Is the ship tilting?”

  Mr. Weathermon nodded. “Slightly, but I fear it will list farther. We must get these people into the ship’s boats and row them ashore.”

  “I agree,” Reverend Colburn replied.

  Jonah watched the exchange and was grateful Mr. Weathermon had dropped his aversion to the reverend’s authority and was focusing on the safety of the group.

  As Reverend Colburn began to explain the situation to the people, Jonah scanned the crowd for Catherine and the baby. He didn’t see them. Mr. Foster wasn’t present either, but that didn’t surprise him. He rushed below deck and found Mr. and Mrs. Foster standing in the aisle between bunks.

  “We’ve run hard aground,” Jonah announced and then waited for their reaction.

  “Thank you, Jonah. We’ll be right up,” Mr. Foster said coolly as he took the baby from Catherine. He held the month-old child while Catherine found her shawl and casually draped it over her shoulders. “Hard aground, you say? Into land?”

  “A sandbar, we think. But land is within rowing distance, wading if the water is as shallow as it appears.”

  “What does land look like? I hardly remember.” Mr. Foster chuckled and winked at Catherine.

  “It’s a beautiful sight, sir.” Their casualness puzzled Jonah. He pointed at the stairs. “Aren’t you in a hurry to see it?”

  Mr. Foster tenderly stroked the baby’s head then passed him back to Catherine. “The only thing I’m in a hurry for is to get the animals to fresh grass.” He grinned as he and Catherine climbed the steps. “Where did we make landfall? Brazil?”

  Jonah followed them above deck. “We don’t know for certain. Probably somewhere in the middle of the South Atlantic.”

  Mr. Foster made some reply, but once on deck Jonah saw Marian open the door of the sterncastle and everything else faded.

  Some of the children were hanging onto the railing, pointing to the land. Mr. Weathermon and Reverend Colburn were dividing the passengers into groups to row ashore. Some of the men were preparing the crane to lift the heavy cargo and livestock from the hold once the hatches were opened. Joyous chaos surrounded Jonah, but he could only think of the kiss he had stolen. He wanted to take Marian back inside the captain’s cabin and kiss her slowly, letting the passion linger long enough to ass
ure her of his desire.

  Doctor Ashton limped out of the sterncastle and Jonah met him by the ship’s wheel. “You should go with the first group, Father. If the ship lists farther, you won’t be able to keep your balance with that foot. You could hurt yourself again.”

  “Nonsense. I’ll volunteer to row.”

  Mr. Weathermon stepped around the boom. “No you won’t, old friend. You’re going with the first group in case anyone needs medical attention once they are on the shore. There could be any number of vicious elements awaiting us. Take the medical supplies with you. Jonah, you will stay on the ship until the last man goes ashore in the event that someone needs you here. Even if we hurry it’ll take the day to open the hatches and rig the spars, blocks, and lines to lift the heavy animals and cargo from the hold.”

  Jonah nodded, accepting Mr. Weathermon’s orders, and rushed to the sterncastle to pack the medical supplies. He stopped at the door and glanced back at Marian. She was near the rail with her parents. She was smiling and pointing to the land, demonstratively telling about the mysterious change in the atmosphere they encountered before the ship’s keel had lodged firmly in the shoal. He watched her mouth as she spoke and the light in her eyes as she rejoiced their journey had ended. As Mr. Weathermon told Catherine to take the baby and Cecelia and Marian and go on the first boat, Jonah caught Marian’s attention.

  She met him at the door of the captain’s cabin, still smiling. “I told my parents about the light flecks and the air, but I don’t think they believed me.”

  “I have to stay with the ship while we unload the cargo.”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to describe what it looked like on deck when we went through whatever that was. It was glorious!”

  Jonah took her hand and gripped her fingers harder than he intended. “Marian, please be careful once you’re on the shore.”

  Her smile held steady, but her fingers were trembling. “I will.”

  “We don’t know what this place is.”

  “I’ll be fine.”