Where The Flag Floats

by Grant, D C

  “You can’t read?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Neither can I.” Fred put the watch back into the pouch, drew the drawstring tight and to my dismay, slipped the watch into his trouser pocket.

  “There’s one way to see if you’re telling the truth, Sam,” he said as he pushed his chair back. “Take me to where you live and I can see your dead mother for myself.”

  “Where are you going, Fred?” Alice asked as she came back into the kitchen.

  “Me and Sam are just going for a walk, aren’t we, Sam?”

  I was helpless. Fred had my watch and I had to get it back from him. I would have to wait for an opportunity to lift it from his pocket and make a run for it before he realised.

  As Fred placed his heavy hand on my shoulder he said, “You lead the way.”

  Mid morning

  The sun had warmed the tight alleys and we were jostled by the crowd as we walked along, the smell of the streets wafting up from the cobbles mixed with the odour of sweaty bodies. Fred kept his hand firmly on my shoulder as we made our way through the busy streets. We reached the back alley that led to the room and I looked for Mr Hagman and the men with him but they had gone. We reached the doorway to the room but a new metal hasp and staple was nailed to doorjamb and door, and on it hung a padlock.

  “Do you have the key?” Fred asked.

  “No, but if you find me a picklock, I can pick it.”

  “It’ll take too long,” Fred said. “I’ll try something quicker.”

  Fred looked up and down the alley but it was deserted. He took hold of his left elbow with his right hand and slammed his body against the door. The nails holding the staple made a squeaking noise. Again he rushed at it and the door gave way enough for me to squeeze my way inside. The room was empty, absolutely empty: the table was gone, as well as the bed on which my mother had lain. She was gone as well. I blinked back tears as I returned to the alley.

  “They took her away this morning.” It was the old man from next door. “Took everything and put a new lock on the door.”

  I stumbled towards him with my vision blurred.

  “Where did they take my mother?” I asked, my voice trembling.

  “Undertaker came and took her, wrapped her up in blanket and put her on the wagon.”

  My legs gave way underneath me and I had to lean against the wall. Fred patted me comfortingly on the shoulder. I turned to him and buried my head in his chest as I sobbed.

  “Crying’s not going to find your mother, now, is it?” He pushed me away gently and we turned to leave.

  “Hey, you, boy, come here!” I knew the voice; it was Carlson. He strode towards me, grabbed my shoulders and shook me. “Mr Hagman said you’d be back. Now where is that watch?”

  “Leave the boy alone,” Fred said.

  “What’s your interest in this?” Carlson turned on Fred.

  “His mother just died.”

  “Yes, and Mr Hagman had to pay the undertaker to take her away. The gold watch will pay for that, and the damage you’ve caused.”

  Carlson began to pat at my trouser pockets, searching for the watch.

  “But…” I began to say but Fred broke in.

  “You’re looking for this?” he said, holding up the leather pouch.

  “That’s the one.” Carlson released me and turned towards Fred, who took a step back and held the pouch up high.

  “Catch,” he said and threw the pouch at the man. At the same time he grabbed my arm and pulled me away. “Come on, Sam, run!”

  Fred dragged me along the alleyway and I stumbled along, my heart broken by the fact that he had given the watch away so easily.

  But … “There’s nothing in here but a penny!” Carlson shouted behind us. “I’ll get you …”

  Hope surged within me. “You still have the watch?”

  “Yep,” Fred replied as he turned the corner. “Keep on running; come on, you go in front and I’ll follow. I don’t know the streets as well as you.”

  I overtook him and ducked down an alley, for I knew this led into one of the main streets. I could hear him panting behind me. We reached the main street and we ran along it, dodging the people, until we came to a side street and I raced down that one, out into another main street and close to the docks now. I daren’t glance behind me in case I lost my footing but I knew that Fred was close behind. I came out on a main street again, and could see the masts of the ships beyond the houses.

  “Wait!” Fred shouted from behind me.

  His cry was cut short. I turned and saw him being tackled by two men so I ran back to hit one of them. He shoved me away.

  “Fred Butler, you’re under arrest,” a third man shouted. He wore a blue coat and carried a sword at his side. The other two men pulled Fred to his feet and forced him to face the officer. Fred struggled against them but they were stronger and held him fast.

  “Fred, what …” I started to say, but the officer blocked me and partially drew the sword out of its scabbard.

  “Stay away, boy, this is navy business.”

  Fred looked over his shoulder at me. “Go back to the tavern, Sam. Tell Alice what’s happened.”

  Then a blow to the back of his head silenced him, and I watched as they dragged him away. I was helpless, but Fred still had the watch and I had to get it back.

  I followed as closely as I could, making use of the shadows in the alleys and the press of people around me. The men were easy to follow but not so easy to get close to. I tried to remember which pocket Fred had put the watch in – the left or the right? I would only have one chance to take it from him, if I got near enough.

  I crept closer as the men reached the docks and I came up behind them. Fred stopped when he saw the ships moored there and struggled against his captors. I stretched out my hand towards the pocket in which I thought the watch had been placed and a flash of silver startled me a second before a stinging pain ran up my arm. I snatched my arm back and cradled it with the other.

  The officer stood over me with his sword still raised.

  “Thank the Lord, boy, that I only used the flat of the blade, not the edge,” the officer said. “Or you’d have only one arm left to thieve with. Now away with you!”

  I stumbled backwards and watched, horrified, as the officer reached inside Fred’s pocket and drew out the watch.

  “Is this what the boy is after, Butler? Is it stolen?”

  I wanted to step forward and take it but the officer still had his sword in his hand and I was sure that he would use the sharp edge if I came close again.

  Fred only shook his head and the officer put the watch in his own coat pocket.

  “Never mind, Butler, we’ll let the commodore decide what to do with you and whatever it is you have stolen.”

  I could only watch as they led him along a gangplank, onto the deck of a ship where he disappeared from my view.

  Fred and the men had gone and with them, my father’s watch.

  Midday

  By the time I arrived back at the tavern, it was almost midday and the establishment was starting to fill. I made my way around the tables, ignoring the men who thought I was a servant until I reached the kitchen beyond to find Alice sitting at the table with a worried look on her face.

  She stood up as I came in. “Where is he?”

  “He …some men took him.” I stammered. “To a navy ship at the wharf.”

  “What ship?”

  “I asked someone and they said it was the Orpheus.”

  She put her head in hands. “Oh no, they’ll hang him for sure.”

  “Why? What’s he done?” I asked.

  Tears ran down her face. “He’s a deserter, from the Harrier.”

  “But it’s not the ship they put him on.”

  “Because the Harrier is in New Zealand and that’s where the Orpheus is headed. It’s leaving tomorrow.”

  “It’s going to Auckland?” I asked, excited.

  “And taking Fred away.” She
stood up and advanced towards me. “It’s all your fault!”

  It was time to leave. I ran out of the kitchen, back through the tavern and out into the street.

  “Got you!” The hand that clasped my arm was strong and tight. Carlson snarled at me. “I’m tired of chasing you, boy. Now hand over the watch.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t have it.”

  “Don’t lie.” He began to pat at the pockets in my trousers. “What have you done with it?

  “Fred’s got it.”

  “Where’s he then?”

  I shrugged and said, “I don’t know,” which was true, as I didn’t know where on the big ship he was. “He was arrested.”

  Carlson laughed and released my arm.

  “So the thief has himself been robbed. Well, that’ll teach you. I guess Mr Hagman will not be getting his rent money, more’s the pity.”

  “Wait,” I said as the man turned to go. “Please sir, please tell me where my mother is.”

  He hesitated, and I thought he wasn’t going to reveal it but then he said, “She’s in a pauper’s grave in the Devonshire Street Cemetery.” Then he was gone.

  I leant against the nearest wall, feeling the warmth of it through my clothes for I had suddenly gone quite cold. My mother was already buried, more than likely with no coffin and no funeral service. It was not fair – she deserved better.

  Blindly I made my way through the busy streets, ignoring the noise and press of people until I reached the cemetery. It was quiet there. I found her grave, newly dug, in a far corner, away from the picketed graves with their large headstones. Only a heap of warm, fresh earth marked her grave and I sank onto the top of it and wept.

  Evening

  When I woke it was dark. The graveyard had an eerie quality about it and I quickly got to my feet.

  “I’ll be back, Mother,” I whispered to the earth at my feet, although I didn’t know why I was whispering – the graveyard was deserted and there was no one else to hear me. “I’ll get the watch back, Mother, and I’ll go to Auckland and find my aunt because that’s what you wanted me to do. I shall honour your wish, and when I’ve done that, I shall come back and put a proper headstone on your grave.” The leaves in the tree at the edge of the yard moved in a breeze that I could not feel, as if my mother was replying to me. I felt like I was abandoning her, and at the cemetery gates I stopped and looked back. I could still see her grave amongst the others, unmarked and unadorned. I stifled a sob.

  I left and made my way through the streets, now filled with people revelling around the taverns and bars. It was quieter at the wharf where the loading had finished for the day but there were still some stevedores around and drunkards from the taverns.

  I approached the ship on which they had taken Fred. The gangplank was still down, one end touching the dock and the other leading onto the deck. I walked towards it; there was no guard that I could see on the dock but a noise at the front of the ship made me look up and withdraw back into the shadows. A marine sentry stood on a small deck at the front of the ship where he had a good view of both the ship and the dock. His rifle was shouldered but I had no doubt it was primed and ready to be used

  I had to distract him. Further along the dock there was a group of men, drunk, and talking loudly to one another. The guard turned to look back at them and I stayed in the shadows as I went towards them. I knelt inside a doorway and waited for them to come closer. They stopped a short distance away. I glanced over at the guard, but he had looked away again, assured that these men posed no threat. Creeping closer behind the nearest one, I reached up and pulled at his coat.

  “Hey!” he said and swung around but I was already in the shadows.

  “What?” asked one of his companions.

  “Someone just tugged at my coat; was it you, Jimmy?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Come on, plenty more pleasures to see.”

  As the man moved forward, I stuck out my foot and he tripped, falling heavily against the man whose coat I had tugged. I crept well back into the dark where I couldn’t be seen.

  “Now careful, man!” the man cried. “You didn’t have to trip me.”

  “I did nothing of the sort.”

  As their voices grew louder I crept further away and closer to the ship. As I suspected, the guard was distracted by the men and had turned to watch. The men’s voices became raised in anger and the guard took his rifle from his shoulder. The men began to fight as I was hoping they would, and the guard took another step. As the sound of fist hitting flesh moved through the air, the guard shouted out and aimed the rifle at them, looking forward of the ship now and away from the gangplank. Within seconds I was on the gangplank and racing towards the end which seemed miles away. I expected a shout at any moment but none came. I reached the end and jumped down onto the deck, thinking that if there was a guard on this end, then I would be caught. There was no voice to greet me; no hand coming out of the dark to grab me for the deck was empty of crew.

  I heard voices from inside the ship, so I moved away and hid beside a misshapen lump that I couldn’t identify. I rested there for a while as I got my breath back. The sides of the ship rose high from the deck, over my head, and I could not see out over the water. But then neither could anyone on the dock see me walking around the deck. I let my eyes adjust to the dark. There were lanterns fore and aft of the ship but none in the middle and, while the dock had not been brightly lit, it was brighter than the deck on which I crouched. Gradually shapes resolved themselves into identifiable items. Down each side of the ship, hard against the gunwale, guns pointed outwards, each securely lashed down with the portholes closed. No one was expecting to fire the guns any time soon. In between the guns lay chests and barrels secured by rope netting. Masts stretched up into the dark sky on which was strung a latticework of ropes and nets. There were openings down the centre of the deck, some closed and others open, from which light spilled upwards. I would have to descend into one of these openings as I could not remain in the shadows of the cargo on the deck until the morning.

  With my ears on alert for any footfall on the deck, I crept towards the nearest hatch and peered over. A ladder dropped straight down to the deck below while a single lamp hung from a hook on a beam. I looked up again but could not see anything as my night sight had been spoiled. I took a chance, lowered myself into the opening and descended quickly.

  I was in a passageway with cabins on either side with most of the doors closed. I peered inside one of the open doors into a small space with a wooden bunk against the side of the ship. Even though it was empty, I knew that they had to be officers’ cabins and I could not hide here.

  I had to descend further, into the depths of the ship where no one would find me. I saw another opening in the floor just in front of a big cabin in the centre.

  Loud laughter erupted somewhere behind me; someone was coming. I crept to the opening and almost fell down the ladder onto a lower deck where it was completely dark, for there was no lantern here. I waited for my eyes to adjust but it was quite black, only the spilt light from the lantern on the floor above me lit the space. It contained a series of lockers that held supplies, as I discovered when I opened one. I moved further along, opening lockers until I found one that had old clothes in it. I moved a few aside, climbed in and arranged them around me. I hoped that, if someone opened the locker, then they would not see me amongst the clothes.

  I lay down as best I could in the cramped space. The clothes smelt damp and unwashed and, together with the stale seawater, engine oil and the earthy smell of coal, made the small cupboard suffocating. I opened the locker a little to let in some air and shaped a seaman’s coat into a pillow. In spite of the strange sound of water lapping against the hull above me, and the creak of the ship as she moved against the wharf, I fell asleep.

  31 January 1863

  Early morning

  I was woken by a sudden thud that shook the ship, then she started vibrating and I feared she would shake herself
down to the bottom of the sea. I was to learn later that the ship was a steam corvette with boilers in the hold that burnt coal to fire the engines that in turn powered her through the water. The engines were generally used when entering and leaving a harbour, and the sails used while in open sea. Unbeknown to me, the fires had been stoked early in the morning, and the steam pressure increased in preparation for her leaving for the open sea. It was the throb of the engines that shook the ship.

  I stayed in the locker, curled up amongst the clothes in case someone should open the door, listening to the thumps overhead and the shouted orders as the ship began to make way.

  I had no idea of time for there was no light, and I could only guess at what was happening on the decks above. I could feel the ship make her way through the water with a slight rocking motion. It was restful and I almost fell asleep until the ship hit the open sea with a lurch and bile rose in the back of my throat. I swallowed it hastily.

  The ship rose up, and then crashed down, and I felt my stomach go with it. The note of the engines changed from a peaceful drone to a throaty roar as we pushed through the swells. The ship rose again, slid down, rose again and veered about before hurtling downwards. I was convinced the ship was heading for the depths of the ocean and my stomach responded by cramping up, forcing me to dry retch. If I had food in my stomach, I am sure I would have dumped it all onto the clothes around me.

  After that I lost the will to live. I convulsed again and again and it felt like my insides had been ripped out. I curled up with my arms clutching my midriff and wished that the ship would sink and take me with it.

  31 January 1863

  Mid-afternoon

  I heard faint voices. The engines had stopped and the ship was tilted to one side as it see-sawed up and down while I, in turn, heaved and groaned.