Angels, Sinners and Madmen

by Cate Masters

  “Waiting was beginning to get tiresome.” He might have told her she occupied his thoughts every minute. For once, the old biddy’s presence aided him.

  The Conch whistled, steering the wagon toward shore.

  Sam touched his fingers to his forehead in salute. “Duty calls. Good to see you, ladies. This area will get busy very soon. I recommend not lingering.”

  “No, we had no intention of lingering.” Mrs. Locke pursed her lips.

  Livvie smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Langhorne. Take care.”

  He caught up to the wagon, hopping inside next to Liam.

  “The girl appears everywhere you are lately, Sam. Some coincidence, eh?”

  “She was concerned about the ship’s passengers.”

  “Mm, yes. I’m certain there’s nothing more to her visit.” Liam’s feigned innocence could not hide his mirth.

  Sam turned away to hide his grin. Her gaze held such concern, such warmth, he found it infectious. The warmth took root deep inside him. He glanced back. The buggy moved along slowly. Livvie looked his way. Sunlight illuminated her face, her beautiful lips turned up in a smile. For him.

  The sight arrested him. Not since Helen had a woman bewitched him so. Casting all hesitancy aside, he hoped this job would go quickly. He planned to pay a visit soon. Very soon.

  * * * *

  After returning to the wreck, the men busied themselves in menial tasks while they waited their turn alongside the tall ship. The schooner’s tightly run operation was no accident. The crew busied themselves tying knots and keeping the schooner in top shape.

  By midmorning the next day, the cotton had been offloaded to the warehouse. Captain Howe grew more irritated watching the ship turning on the reef. He’d complained many times of foolish commanders who caused more damage than necessary by hesitating in accepting help. Water now leaked into the ship’s lower holds. Captain Howe ordered the men to move quickly to remove the remaining corn and grain. Dark clouds gathered, and the winds had sharply increased. An ill portent.

  “This will require more of our skills, men.” Captain drew a crude map to show where the goods lay below. “With any luck, our weather will hold until we’ve finished. Let’s move quickly.”

  Sam reached for the grapple hook.

  Jasper tugged it away. “I’ll go first. You can go later, when the storm hits.”

  “Ah, you’re so considerate.” Sam smacked his diving mate’s wide shoulder.

  Jasper slipped into the water carrying the hooked line. Divers from each wrecker plunged beneath the surface soon after.

  Sam waited by the line, feeling uneasy. Tendrils of lightning blazed from distant clouds. “Looks like we’re in for it.”

  “Like Jasper said, we’ll be below during the storm. He’ll have to keep the ship steady above.” Liam’s light tone belied his worry.

  The wait grew too long, and Sam’s feeling of foreboding grew. “Shouldn’t they be up? None have yet come up, have they?”

  Liam narrowed his eyes and scanned the other schooners. “I had the same thought.” He turned to Sam. “We should ready to go below, just in case.”

  A tug on the line signaled Jasper was ready to come up. Liam moved to the pulley and cranked the handle. The rope jerked wildly. The tugs grew in frequency and intensity.

  “Something’s wrong.” Liam cranked faster.

  Sam rushed to the side and searched for any sign of the diver. There was none.

  “I’m not waiting any longer.” He dove over the side and aimed for a dark figure. Jasper’s arms and legs flailed, and he swam crazily, legs and arms splayed in every direction except up. Sam grabbed his arm to signal he was there to help. Slipping his arm around Jasper’s chest, he pumped his legs and free arm to get him to the surface quickly. The huge man’s weight slowed Sam considerably, until Jasper followed his movements and aimed upward.

  Gasping, Sam grabbed for the boat when they burst through the water. “Someone help him in.”

  Two men reached overboard to haul Jasper aboard. Scrabbling onto the schooner, he sat, bracing himself against the deck, his eyes wide and wild.

  Captain Howe pushed through the gathering crowd. “What happened down there?”

  Jasper jerked his head toward the captain, though looked beyond. “Captain?”

  Captain Howe’s gaze intensified. “Yes, of course, it’s me, Jasper. What went on below?”

  Trembling, Jasper lowered his gaze, looking at nothing. “I found the opening, right where you said it would be. The others swam toward it at the same time. The first came out quick, waving like a madman, holding his head. I went next. As soon as I got inside, my eyes burned like they were on fire.”

  Shouts sounded from two other boats. “They’re blind! They’re blind!”

  Terror shot through Sam. He glanced at Liam, whose grimace betrayed the same horror.

  Captain Howe crouched next to Jasper. “Good God, man. Are you blind?”

  Tears welled in Jasper’s wide eyes. “Yes, sir. I am.”

  The captain touched his shoulder. “Get him below. See what you can do.”

  “Now what, sir?”

  “I must confer with the ship’s captain. The cargo should have been corn and linens. Unless the dyes leaked….” Captain Howe’s face twisted into a grim mask. He strode away, calling for Jahner to bring the schooner alongside the wreck.

  Tension filled the air. The men watched their captain go aboard hailing the other officer. The two men talked, their faces stern, their movements stiff. The ship’s captain flailed his arms while Captain Howe shook his head.

  Beyond, lightning streaked through roiling clouds, closing in fast.

  “Bloody hell. He wants us to go back down.” Dread flattened Liam’s voice.

  “Impossible. We’d send more men to their doom. It’s not even a risk—every man who dove is now blind. For what? Ruined corn? Washed out linens?”

  “I know.” Liam set his gaze on Sam. “Still, a contract is a contract. Captain may have no choice.”

  “The circumstances warrant a change in the contract. Certainly Captain Howe knows Judge Marvin would recognize that.”

  Liam’s brows twitched. “We’ll see.”

  Captain Howe’s look of dread reboarding The Florida spoke volumes. “We have to give it one more try.” He called to the first mate. “Spread the word. One more dive. Using utmost caution.”

  Through cupped hands, the first mate yelled to the nearest schooner. The word echoed from wrecker to wrecker. Each crew met the news in wide-eyed amazement or uncertainty.

  Sam stepped forth. “I’ll go.”

  The captain’s response was quick. “No.” He pointed to Isum. “Ready yourself. At the first sign of trouble, return to The Florida.”

  Isum’s wide eyes held fear and hatred.

  Sam touched the captain’s sleeve. “But Captain, I have more experience.”

  Captain Howe glared at him. “Are you challenging my command, Mr. Langhorne?”

  Sam stepped back. “No, sir.”

  “Assist your mate and keep quiet.”

  Sam sneered, “Yes, sir.”

  Captain Howe hesitated, his gaze boring into Sam. Sam kept his attention ahead, wiping the emotion from his face the best he could.

  Bearing the somberness of a man approaching the gallows, Isum readied himself. His dignity and grace while he plunged into the water filled Sam with sorrowful pride.

  Bending over the side, he whispered urgent pleas for him to return quickly. The seconds ticked by like hours. Tension made Sam’s breath more ragged. “Come on, Isum.”

  Liam came to Sam’s side. “Any sign of him?”

  “Not yet.”

  They waited together.

  Finally, the rope jerked.

  Liam pointed. “There.” Before Sam could respond, Liam dove into the water, landing at the man’s side to help him to the boat.

  Grabbing Isum, Sam drew him up.

  Isum gasped, falling to the deck. Rubbing his eyes, h
e shook his head.

  Captain Howe stood over him. “Are you all right, man?” Hope edged his stern tone.

  Isum blinked rapidly. “The water burned my eyes, so I closed them. I tried to feel my way back out. I couldn’t, so I had to open them to find my way.”

  “Are you blind?”

  His gaze jerked from man to man. “I see shapes.” His voice shook. “All I see are shapes.”

  As divers returned to the other boats, the cry arose again: “They’re blind! They’re blind!”

  Sam clenched his teeth. The crew should not have been put in harm’s way. His blood boiled at the injustice.

  “Take him below. See what you can do for him.” Captain Howe’s steady gaze met Sam’s. “That’s all. I’ll inform the ship’s captain there’s no more we can do. When I return, we head for shore.”

  After the wrecker pulled aside the ship, Captain Howe boarded. The two captains argued. Howe came back to The Florida, his internal struggle obvious in his abrupt movements. “The captain chooses to stay. Cast off.”

  Sam exchanged a knowing glance with Liam.

  “But the storm—” Jahner said.

  “I told him he was putting his crew at risk. We’ll return later to offer assistance again. It’s all I can do for now. We must tend to our wounded.”

  One by one, the boats turned to shore. The gusting winds hastened their journey to the wharf. Two or three men from each schooner had to be pulled to the dock, their arms helplessly outstretched, their wide eyes unseeing.

  Sam sickened at the sight. He helped secure the schooner.

  Captain gave word for three of the boats to return to the ship after taking care of their crews.

  Liam slapped Sam’s back. “We need a trip to the grogery. What do you say?”

  He nodded. “An extended trip.”

  The two walked in solemn silence across the docks, and then into the street. Rain pelted their backs, barely penetrating Sam’s consciousness.

  All the wreckers were apparently of one mind. The grogery’s crowd grew to capacity.

  Sam signaled the bartender. “Two whiskeys, please.”

  Liam grunted. “No, no. Not by the glass today. Send a bottle over.” Pulling a chair away from a table, he plopped into it.

  “You’re right. By the glass would take too long.” Sam’s chair scraped across the floor, and he sat.

  Three other wreckers joined them, as sullen-looking as Sam felt.

  Jahner emptied his glass. “Doc’s got his hands full today.”

  “Think he can help them?” someone asked.

  “Maybe. If Isum wasn’t blinded completely, there may be hope for some sight to return, at least.”

  Blinded. Jasper’s life ruined in less than five minutes. Better he’d have drowned than been blinded.

  Or better Sam had. The guilt weighed on him greater than a tall ship itself.

  While the others continued their banter, it barely registered in Sam’s mind.

  “Perhaps he’ll see again. Depends on the damage.”

  “What caused it?”

  “Fermented corn, I heard.”

  “And dyes. Cargo sat too long underwater.”

  “If he hadn’t kept us waiting so long, we could have cleared his hold without disaster.”

  “Maybe the captain didn’t divulge all the cargo below.”

  “I hope the ship crumbles to pieces on the reef. And its captain too.”

  “No man deserves death, even one so stupid.”

  “His crew deserve better, for sure.”

  “Captain Howe did his best to persuade him. The pig-headed goat wouldn’t budge.”

  Afternoon became evening, which bled to night. The storm howled outside, battering the windows. The men held their places and awaited word from Captain Howe. The bartender stayed busy filling drink orders long past midnight.

  Sam turned to bleary-eyed Liam. “My vision’s been affected too.” And his speech. His words slurred together almost nonsensically.

  “Eh?” Liam grunted, trying to lift his gaze. “Time to go,” he mumbled and pushed himself to a wobbly stand.

  Sam raised his head. “Need a hand?” he tried to say, but the resulting sound garbled into nonsense.

  Waving him off, Liam weaved his way through tables to the door. He fumbled the door open, steadying himself against the door jamb. Although a breeze blew in, the rain appeared to have stopped. He shuffled outside and was gone.

  Sam rested his head against his arm.

  Someone shook his shoulder. “Let’s go, lad. We’re closing.”

  He raised his head and waved in recognition.

  The bartender moved from table to table, rousing drunken patrons. One by one, they rose and stumbled out. One fell to the floor, and another dragged him by his shoulders.

  Sam inhaled and laid his palms on the table top. His head felt overfilled with sloshing, disconnected brains. His senses functioned enough to see a half-full bottle of whiskey still on the table, and he held it like a rudder and steered himself outside.

  The wind refreshed his senses. He couldn’t go home yet. He wandered back toward the wharf and leaned against a palm tree. He slid down to the sand.

  Reddish yellow light rimmed the horizon. “Red sky at night, sailor’s delight. Red sky at morning, sailors take warning.” He chuckled. “Too late for warnings.”

  Light bled across the wide sky and the outline of the ship emerged, rocking while waves struck it again and again against the reef.

  “Too late for warnings,” he whispered.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Livvie dressed early and went downstairs. Snatches of song drifted from the back of the house, and she walked down the hallway into the kitchen. Florie bustled about, humming.

  “Morning, Florie. I’m going for a walk.” She headed for the door.

  Florie worked a rag against the counter. “So early, miss?”

  “Yes. I’m concerned about the ship. I’m going to try to learn how it fared in the storm last night.”

  Wide-eyed, Florie waved the rag. “Oh, I heard the wreckers came up blind from their dive.”

  “What?” Fear iced Livvie’s spine. “Surely not all.”

  “Some from each boat. ‘Bout twenty, in all.”

  She clutched the door handle. “What about Sam—Mr. Langhorne?”

  The housekeeper wiped her hands against her apron. “I didn’t hear his name mentioned. Most were coloreds. The ones who do the deep diving.”

  Livvie’s thoughts raced. Sam was among those who dove deep. Panic welled up, threatening to choke her.

  Florie chattered on, oblivious to Livvie’s despair. “The storm kept me awake most of the night. All that booming.”

  She couldn’t sleep, either. Not for fear of the lightning. She’d worried about Sam. And now, with urgency. “Is there anything you need from the market while I’m out?”

  “You’re a sweet child. No, I went yesterday before the storm and brought enough back for three days.”

  Livvie pulled open the door. “Would you tell Mrs. Crowell, then? I don’t believe she’s up yet.”

  “The storm probably kept her up too. I’ll tell her. You be careful now.”

  “Thank you, Florie. I will.” She stepped into the morning sunshine. The usual sense of freedom eluded her, replaced by a sense of foreboding. She had to find Sam.

  Her footsteps echoed along the wet streets littered by grit. Inside the homes she passed, faint movement appeared through windows, people beginning their days. Farther into town, a few carts squeaked along the streets near the market. She turned toward the wharf. The Florida floated at its dock. A few crew men slept on the deck, caps covering their faces. Sam was not among them.

  On the reef beyond, the ship listed to the left. Three schooners were moored nearby.

  What a wretched business, having to wait helplessly nearby and watch a ship be dashed to pieces.

  She sighed, not knowing whether Sam might be aboard one of those schooners. W
aiting here would be useless. Hours or a day might pass before anything happened.

  She turned and headed back toward town, halting at the sight of a figure slumped against a tree on the beach. In approaching, his familiarity grew. “Sam.” She hurried to him. “Sam.”

  Grumbling, he waved her away.

  “Sam, it’s me. Olivia.” When he didn’t respond, she said more forcefully, “It’s Livvie.”

  He squinted up at her, his face absent his usual ready smile. “Livvie.” He looked out over the sea, to where the ship rocked against the reef.

  She laid her hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  He gave a bitter laugh. “Yeah, fine. I can see all too well.” He swiped his arm across his forehead.

  Relief swept over her. So he wasn’t blinded. She crouched beside him. “Have you slept at all?”

  Even sitting, he wobbled. “Noooo. We’re waiting. The ship’s captain might decide he needs us. Might need more men to throw themselves to their doom.”

  Her grip tightened. “Sam, what happened?” He’d had a long night of drinking, to be sure. Not in celebration. Something terrible hung in the air, some unspoken threat.

  At her touch, he dropped his chin to his chest and held a hand to his forehead. “Twenty men,” he muttered. “Twenty men sacrificed themselves for that bloody stupid captain.”

  She gasped. “Oh, my God. Did all twenty men die?”

  “Worse. They’re blind.” He turned to her, his reddened eyes blazing. “Do you know what’s the worst part, Livvie? It should have been me.” His voice broke in anguish. “It should have been me.”

  “No, don’t say that.” Her skin chilled at the thought.

  “It’s true. I wanted to go down. Jasper stepped ahead of me. He came up blind, same as all the divers on the other boats. Captain Howe said we had to make another dive, but sent Isum instead. Do you know why?”

  Dread filled her. She didn’t want to hear the explanation. “No. Tell me.”

  His smile, like his voice, cracked. “Because the Negroes are always sent first when it’s most dangerous.”