The Downeaster: Deadly Voyage

by Paul Thomas Fuhrman

  “I am a child now, no more than sixteen. Ha. Dickens could write about me, A Christmas Carol of Kayleigh MacKenna. The sad ghosts of yesterday, the wonderful, the bright and shining spirits of today, and tomorrow.”

  She rose from her chair.

  “Come on, Hanna, no one will see us.”

  She took Hanna’s hands in hers, formed a circle with their arms, and together they twirled round and round until their laughter overcame them.

  “I never thought I’d see such a thing, Kayleigh. Please, tell me more.”

  “You know the letter from the doctor? The one I showed you?”

  Hanna nodded her head.

  “I let him read it. I explained it to him. He really didn’t understand. I told him the doctor was politely saying that no man would marry me if he knew I was a nurse, a single woman nursing rough men. He still didn’t understand. He said he admired courage and compassion. Then, can you imagine this? He said marriage was not so impossible. It became a joke, our little joke, that he would one day marry me.”

  Hanna replied, “That’s bold. No one would joke about a marriage proposal in Boston—in all of New England; such a contract is so serious.”

  “We did. Can you believe it? He said he would marry a courageous and compassionate woman. He meant me, yes, me!”

  “I don’t believe it. I can’t imagine any man in New England ever saying such words so casually.” Hanna raised a hand to her mouth mimicking shock.

  “That’s not all. Darwin—he told me about women in the South Pacific.”

  Hanna eyes widened as she replied, “Did he tell you women wear no clothes from here on up?”

  “We didn’t talk about clothes. It’s—well—better; yes, even better than that. It’s natural for a woman to pursue a man and to want to sleep with him.”

  “Kayleigh, if I were your mother I’d wash your mouth out with soap. That’s shocking. If people knew you repeated what he said, the word would spread all over Boston.”

  “That’s not all. He said island women expect a man to please them.”

  Hanna was nearly out of her seat. “He’s been at sea too long. He’s becoming a savage.”

  “He says it’s a perversion to deny our nature.”

  “Oh, my.”

  “He told me about seminary. I told him he could show me his hand.”

  “My dear Kayleigh, my dear sister, the last time something like this happened, this joy, this being moonstruck by a boy, was when we were at Vassar together. It was that boy from Mount Vernon Street. Remember? Something happened to you with him. I’m afraid for you. What happened? You’ve never told me anything.”

  “Don’t ruin it for me, Hanna. I’m not that girl anymore. ”

  “Tell me, please.”

  “Hanna, things happen. Things like Isaac’s hand. You can’t change anything. It’s best to forget and go on with your life.”

  “Oh, Kayleigh, don’t do anything rash. Control your impulses. Talk to me when you feel you must do something risky.”

  “Hanna, I do need your help. We can’t just meet each other. People would talk. I don’t want that kind of trouble. Would you and William help us meet again? Perhaps we could picnic together or just play cards here at your house. We want to see each other. You and William could watch us and tell people—”

  “Oh, and tell them what? That we leave you and Griffin alone together in our parlor?”

  “Weren’t you and William Jr. ever alone together? Wasn’t it something you both wanted? Didn’t you know it was time to sit together at the piano with no eyes watching you?”

  Hanna reluctantly smiled. “I’ll see, Kayleigh. William needs time—I need him to get away from his work. Seeing Griffin court you might even inspire him.”

  ***

  It was only after sleep had overcome Kayleigh that the memory came again. It came to her home, to her bed, to her dreams. She felt her sweat run cold and pool at the nape of her neck. She felt fear. She dreamed of running, sprinting down a path only to find it closed over with brambles and twisted vines, and then running again in another direction. She was running away from him, that man. Each time she thought she could stop and rest, his footsteps and breathing snatched sanctuary away and set her sprinting in terror.

  He was gaining on her. As she forced her mind into consciousness of her bedroom, she saw him. He stood over her, leaning by the side of her bed. She saw the anger on his face once more and knew he had exposed himself; he was erect, grotesque; he would beat down her resistance and force himself within her. As she awoke he faded until there was nothing but his face, and then only the darkness of her bedroom and her terror.

  Kayleigh remembered the rape. She remembered the fear, his hands, his words—“Bitch, cunt”—his fists, and her helplessness, how soiled and ashamed she felt. Again he threatened her; he threatened to tear away the joy she’d discovered with Isaac. Now she felt guilt. She had brought this upon herself. If Isaac knew, would he want her? Could any man ever want her? She could not bring herself to answer her own question. Everyone would blame her.

  Sleep came over her again, mercifully. It was a few hours before dawn. She remembered the gentleness of Isaac’s fingers, his laughter with her, the joy she would fight to keep. She felt Isaac’s hand in hers and remembered how he drew her hand to his chest—sleep at last. She dreamt of islands, dreamt of sunlight, warm sand on her bare back and legs, and dreamt of the sounds of tropical birds and the sweet taste of tropical fruit.

  ***

  It was now Monday, noon. Isaac Griffin had arranged a carriage to take him and Kicking Billy to an old roost, the Belle and Maiden Tavern. The two seamen sat at a corner table with glasses of cold porter and beefsteaks.

  “I know what I’m talking about.” Kicking Billy was mildly frustrated with Isaac. “It happens.” He struggled with the words. “Something tells thee she’s the one; it happened to me. I knew I wanted to marry Maude”—he struggled with his words—“the second I saw her. Don’t expect me to tell thee to be cautious.”

  Isaac did not expect cautious words. Kicking Billy had taken Maude to sea with him. Isaac knew how she had charmed her husband, taken the edge off his tongue and his temper, and made meals pleasant for the mates by sparing them from long periods of silence and occasional angry outbursts from her husband.

  “She’s bold and beautiful, Billy.”

  He stuttered, “Thee lets her boldness bother thee? If she came from Tahiti or Java or Spain, her brass...wouldn’t...hell, thee’d like it. I remember when thee chased women. Go after her, damn it. Don’t be surprised by what thee learns about her; she’ll test thee. She has to know she can depend on thee, that thee are not playing her along. Women got to be sure. As sure as hell, so she’ll test thee. Thee will not see it coming. I’m warning thee.”

  Griffin looked at his friend, hoping for an answer, an insight. “Those women I chased after—it isn’t like that now. A week or two and I would be bored with them and ready for another. Some no more than a night. Kayleigh’s different.

  “Sure, we are attracted to each other. She even joked about it. There’s more. I can’t explain it. I’ve never had such hunger before. It was like we were slowly becoming part of each other. My thoughts were hers; hers were mine.”

  Billy smiled warmly, “Son, I firmly believe I...thee needs a woman. Miss Kayleigh is pretty.” He paused in order to form his words. Then he said clearly, “I like her, Isaac. Damn it, I like her. If thee must have concerns, fear that thee will lose her.”

  ***

  Later that week, both Kayleigh and Griffin received an invitation to join William Jr. and Hanna for a picnic aboard a chartered catboat. Isaac Griffin responded by inviting Kayleigh, Hanna, and William Jr. to a day of sailing on Griffin’s yacht and home, the San Matias.

  Hanna had succeeded in bringing them together again; she and William would soon—by mid-April—depart from their parlor to give them privacy. Isaac and Kayleigh realized they could not stay apart. They soon met alone. K
ayleigh had ignored Hanna’s warning as she had ignored her mother’s.

  Eight

  Luncheon Aboard San Matias

  Here, a little child I stand,

  Heaving up my either hand:

  Cold as paddocks though they be,

  Here I lift them up to thee,

  For a benison to fall

  On our meat, and on us all. Amen.

  —Robert Herrick

  Thursday, April 11, 1872

  Boston

  The Belle and Maiden was open and doing its usual brisk business of catering to the needs of harbor pilots and older seamen. These men loved it for the food, the conversations maintained around the clock, New England fare, and porter. The wood for the paneling was said to have come from a British prize taken by none other than the Constitution herself. The patina bore convincing evidence of its history.

  The tavern common room was enveloped in the blue-gray smoke of pipes and cigars, and the rolling cacophony of the patrons when Isaac Griffin and Jimmy Meehan walked through the door. The word “sir” greeted Griffin, as he was a ship’s master, and Jimmy Meehan was greeted with a wink and a slap on the back based on numerous past visits, memorable philosophical arguments, and his willing laugh. They were shown to their table and offered coffee or tea. Neither man needed a menu, and Griffin, being in a good mood from last night’s visit with Kayleigh MacKenna, offered to buy the breakfast.

  Eileen Meagher brought Griffin his usual slice of ham, buckwheat pancakes, and syrup and set them before him in a gracious style. “Here’s your breakfast, sir.”

  The widow Meagher was in her early forties and compared well to a Glasgow-built steel bark for sheer and for weatherliness. She made a point of displaying her ample bosom to Jimmy Meehan when serving him his bacon, eggs over easy, johnnycakes, and coffee. “Top of the morning, Mr. Meehan. I hope you’ll find these to yer liking.”

  Jimmy, all too aware of what “these” were, replied, “They wud please a bishop.” He gave her a lingering pat on her rump to emphasize his pleasure with what she had offered. “I’ll see you t’evening, Eileen.”

  Griffin did not believe in wasting time, money, or words. “We’ll be having a guest for lunch today, Jimmy. Maybe some bean soup, small beefsteaks, beets, and soft bread would do, but do your best.”

  The old sailor muttered an “Aye” to his captain, while restraining both a smile and a chuckle. He still knew how to read the wind and box a compass. Jimmy noticed that his captain was aware of anything out of place, anything less than shipshape on San Matias, and had spent the prior week on hands and knees with Griffin putting her in a fine state of shine and order. The old sailor knew something was unusual; he had noticed a strand of bright red hair on the captain’s dark wool jacket earlier this morning. The hair had not been there before Friday when he had brushed his captain’s shore clothing.

  “So who will be our guest, Captain? The commodore from the navy yard? Or is it Miss Kayleigh?”

  Isaac laughed. “Of the two, who would you prefer?”

  “Have yer ever seen a pretty commodore?”

  ***

  Kayleigh MacKenna was excited. She could consume barely a single piece of buttered toast and only one cup of coffee for breakfast. She fussed with her maid while the maid helped her dress in one of Hanna Christison’s dresses borrowed for the occasion.

  “Miss Kayleigh, you do look fine. Your sea captain will be pleased. Yes, miss, he will.”

  Now Kayleigh paced nervously in her parlor, in the small townhome her father had provided for her near the hospital. She wanted to address Griffin with some small word of endearment, but thought “dear” was too common and “darling” too bold. Perhaps with just the right inflection, the right tone, letting the word linger a bit, “Isaac” would do. She paced, she fretted, and she adjusted her hair.

  The brass knocker on her door rapped. She did not wait for the maid but opened the door herself. There he stood before her with his derby in his left hand and in his best suit of clothes. She thought of all she had rehearsed but instinctively rushed into a quick embrace followed by an impulsive kiss.

  “Have you had breakfast, Kayleigh?”

  “I had one earlier.”

  “Are you wearing comfortable shoes, no French heels? We are going to walk a little today.”

  She made sure she had eye contact, and with a slight flutter of her lids, and with her sweetest tone, she said, “Are we going to the country?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Griffin had hired a carriage and driver to take them to San Matias. It was a beautiful ride on a beautiful day in a city they both loved. She was happy and fairly bubbled with excitement. She talked about the week to come. She looked forward to observing a surgery. Her questions had impressed the young surgeon. Isaac listened without hearing but with absolute absorption in her facial expressions, the arc of her eyebrows, and the magic flush appearing and disappearing across her nose.

  “You’re taking me to Broad Street. We’re going to the San Matias!”

  The carriage stopped at the base of a pier, and the two continued down the pier to its head. Along the way, a few sailors showed their appreciation for Kayleigh with “Good mornings” and beaming faces. Some cheered encouragement to Isaac, calling him “Captain.” The sailors respected their limits and the mate on duty.

  Kayleigh was delighted, and her bright red blush announced it.

  Upon reaching the end of the pier, Kayleigh squealed like an excited girl. She fairly flew across the gangplank and went straight to the tiller. “I love her. She’s so beautiful and fast.”

  “She is beautiful. I saw a Le Havre pilot boat I liked and had San Matias built on her lines.”

  “I’m jealous of her.” Kayleigh feigned seriousness.

  “Well, I’m glad of that!”

  They climbed down the companionway. Upon seeing Kayleigh, Jimmy Meehan beamed with delight and muttered under his breath, “Aye, Captain, she’s going to pull you in and keep you a happy paddy, if you’re man enough to keep her.”

  The light streamed into the saloon from the butterfly hatch. The teak gleamed. The cabinetry all had louvered doors with polished brass hardware. Jimmy had rigged the dining table and placed a blue-checkered tablecloth over it with a coffee cup serving as a vase for flowers.

  “Is this your idea, Jimmy?” Kayleigh asked as she pointed to the flowers.

  “Yes, miss, and I have a grand meal for us, too.” He began to take the sturdy earthenware plates from racks over the galley sink and set the table for three.

  “You’ll eat with us, Jimmy?”

  “Yes, indeed. This is my home too. I have a bunk in the fore-peak cabin.”

  “Will you be going with the captain on the Providence, Jimmy?”

  “No, miss. Me job’s right here with this boat. I have to pump out the bilge twice a day. When the captain goes to sea, I take care of her. When the Providence clears soundings, San Matias will go into the yard for repairs and will be laid up in September for the winter.”

  “What will you do then?”

  Her question reflected true concern. Jimmy Meehan delighted her with his humor and with the kindness he had shown for Hanna on the sail and picnic aboard San Matias.

  “I stay with the boat and see that things are done right.”

  “Do you still live on the boat?”

  “I stay on her as long as she’s in the water. Otherwise, I stay at the Seamen’s Bethel. It’s safe there.”

  “Are you hungry, Kayleigh?”

  “Aye, Captain!” Kayleigh laughed.

  “Well, Jimmy, bring it to us smartly, if you please.”

  The meal was well prepared, an obvious tribute to her and a clear sign of Jimmy Meehan’s approval of her, perhaps even with his captain for bringing her into their lives.

  She found it surprising that although the flatware was just the essentials, Jimmy had correctly arranged the setting.

  Kayleigh ate with gusto. Both men silently wondered how s
he could remain so slim.

  Jimmy asked, “Have you had grog, miss?”

  “No.”

  Jimmy took a bottle of dark Jamaican rum from the cabinet, poured a measure into each of the three earthenware mugs, then added two measures of water and squeezed a little lime juice into each mug. “Some put sugar in it, miss, some don’t. Well, here’s to sweethearts and wives, as they say in the navy.”

  Jimmy did not finish the rest of the toast. Isaac understood Jimmy’s concern. Jimmy would not cheapen this occasion.

  Kayleigh sipped the grog and added a pinch of sugar.

  “Sometimes, miss, aboard ship we sweeten it with a bit of molasses, as molasses is all we have.”

  Kayleigh enjoyed her grog and enjoyed Jimmy Meehan. She wondered if Jimmy was comfortable living alone while Isaac was at sea. Kayleigh offered to help Jimmy clean up. Jimmy, however, would have nothing to do with it. He quickly and efficiently cleaned and restored the saloon to pristine condition.

  “Captain, I’m heading ashore nigh. I left somethin’ at th’ Belle an’ Maiden.”

  Griffin waited a few moments and then climbed the companionway ladder to make sure Jimmy had left. When he returned to the saloon, he and Kayleigh kissed, and then kissed again, hungry kisses, while embracing, with his good hand stroking the small of her back.

  They were alone and free to talk. Like all new couples, they were perpetually starved for information about each other, for details of their lives and the troubles and joys of their souls. Both knew the course their lives had now taken. The two also knew their joint destination and the rocks and shoals of religion and separation they must navigate through.

  Griffin was amazed with Kayleigh. She accepted her belief without question and found comfort in her church. She was one of the children He had suffered to come unto Him, and she had remained so even into her adult years. She told Griffin she could bear being alone knowing he would always return to her.

  She thought of those things she wanted to do. When she imagined Griffin lying naked next to her, her heart froze and for a moment became a stone. Did he notice? She spoke impulsively to mask her reaction.