The Deepest Waters, A Novel

by Walsh, Dan

  Micah drank the whole glass down. It surely helped.

  After she was through crying, or at least get to where she could talk, she looked up at Micah. “What is Laura like? Did you know her?”

  Now Micah didn’t know why, and he surely didn’t see it coming. But tears rushed up from inside as he said, “She may be the finest woman I ever know.”

  No one said anything for a moment. Then Mrs. Foster said, “I am not at all surprised.”

  Micah felt he should say more. “She so brave. Care for others way more than herself. Treat me and . . . my dog better than we ever been treated.”

  Mrs. Foster looked up at Beryl. “I so hope Joel was able to persuade her.”

  Beryl nodded.

  “Would you like another glass of water?” Mrs. Foster asked.

  “Maybe just a little,” Micah said. “Help me on my way back to the ship.”

  “You’re going back tonight?”

  “Well, Cap’n say we might be leavin’ tomorrow. Gave him my word I be back before then.”

  “Beryl, could you give him something, some money? To thank him for all his trouble.” Then she stood up, came right over, and shook Micah’s hand. “Thank you, Mr. . . .”

  “The name’s Micah, ma’am.” He didn’t want to shake her hand, his hand being so dirty. But he did.

  Beryl came back and handed Micah some gold coins. “No need for this, Mrs. Foster. I’m happy to come, do anything I could for Mrs. Foster. Well, the other Mrs. Foster.”

  “I insist,” she said. “Perhaps you could find yourself a hotel or at least a decent meal.”

  “Thank you kindly, ma’am. I guess I best be going.” She looked like she wanted to give him a hug, but she just patted him on the shoulder. He nodded, put his hat back on, and headed for the door.

  Beryl walked him out, all the way to the street. “Do you know your way back to the ship all right?”

  “I ’spect so. Just head back to that Union Square, then follow that big wide street south.”

  “Very good,” said Beryl. “You’ve got the idea. Thank you for taking the time to come, and bringing the note.” He leaned forward. “Mrs. Foster has had a troubling day, but I could tell, she was very grateful.”

  “Thank you for sayin’ so, suh. I best be on my way.”

  Well, things did work out all right, he thought, making his way down the steps. But he was sad he come all this way and didn’t get to give Miz Laura the note himself or say a proper good-bye.

  He thought surely she had been his friend. Felt quite sure it was so.

  52

  Ayden Maul could not believe what he saw through blurred eyes. It was that Foster woman, coming right out the front door of that uppity hotel across the street. He had just finished his last beer of the evening and was settling up his tab with the barkeep when he glanced out the front window. “Gotta go,” he said. “Keep the change.”

  God or the devil, one had opened up a window of opportunity, and he was jumping through. He’d already figured the woman must have gone down for the night. He was just about to go out and refill his pockets with some dandy man’s cash down some dark alley.

  That would have to wait. He had another tab to pay.

  He walked outside and stayed in the shadows until a carriage came around the corner and stopped by the front doors. It was different from the one that brought her here, bigger, much nicer. His horse was tied to a rail not twenty feet away. As soon as the lady and her two companions got in the carriage, he jumped on the horse.

  It seemed late for a woman of her status to be venturing out. She didn’t load any luggage, but he saw a few shopping bags. Maybe she was going out for a little while, maybe leaving for good. He didn’t have a plan made up just yet. The main thing was not to lose her, to keep her in his sights.

  He found opportunities had a way of presenting themselves if you just paid attention. He followed behind just enough to stay out of sight. The carriage headed north on Broadway. Wasn’t hard to keep track of them now, streets were almost clear of traffic. All the stores were closed and most of the restaurants.

  About fifteen minutes down the road, it was clear they had left the business district. He was starting to see more homes than shops and, he noticed, more trees.

  More trees was good; it meant more shadows.

  For Laura, the carriage ride was taxing. She barely had the energy to keep her eyes blinking, let alone discern and satisfy expectations Joel and Allison had of her, not to mention what awaited her at the Foster home. It was at least a relief to find they were not hostile as she’d feared. Allison continued to be warm and congenial. Under better circumstances, Laura felt sure she would even enjoy her company.

  For the most part, Joel said nothing. Allison talked occasionally. Thankfully, she hadn’t asked the kind of questions Laura was certain she’d wanted to, about John. Laura could tell they both sat upon a mountain of tears, ready to release with the littlest prodding.

  Joel sat up and looked out the window. “We’re just three blocks away now.”

  “Does this remind you at all of San Francisco?” Allison asked. “I’ve read so much about it.”

  “Hard for me to compare,” said Laura. “I’ve only seen a fraction of this city before dark. Maybe tomorrow I could answer better. I will say . . . it’s a much larger city, with much taller—”

  The carriage stopped abruptly. Everyone fell forward in their seats.

  “Did we hit something?” Joel said.

  Lot nicer to walk in the cool of the night, thought Micah. Quiet too, now, almost no one out on the street. And Laura’s kin treated him very kindly. Didn’t know exactly what to do with the money she give him, never stayed in a hotel before nor ate a meal in a restaurant. He figured he best just keep walking all the way back to the ship.

  But he figured, he saw someplace that sold food to colored folk, any kind of food, he could be talked into stopping a spell. No hurry to get back to eatin’ what ole Smitty made. Barely right to call it food.

  A big carriage came down the road just up ahead. Micah saw this young colored man dressed like a fancy dancer holding the reins. Now what kind of life he must have, they let him dress like that every day.

  The carriage stopped suddenly. Micah looked around the wheels, like maybe something broke or it hit some animal. He looked up at the young man, who just staring at him like he seen a ghost.

  “Daddy?” the young driver said.

  Micah looked behind him, wondering who he was talking to.

  “Daddy?” he said again, louder, tying up the reins on a hook. Still looking right at Micah.

  “It’s you, Lord Almighty. It is you,” the driver said.

  A man from inside the carriage spoke up. “What’s going on, Eli? Why’d we stop?”

  “Daddy,” the driver said again, crying, coming down quick off that carriage.

  Eli? Did he say . . . Eli?

  Micah looked at the young man as he jumped to the street. “Eli? That you, son?” Tears falling down his face like rain, ’cause Micah knew it now.

  His boy Eli.

  Eli rushed on him, hugged him so hard his fancy hat tumbled off his head into the street. “Daddy, I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “Eli . . .” Micah couldn’t talk, couldn’t think. Joy was comin’ out of him every which way. He held Eli so tight. They both crying so hard, neither one ever wanting to let go.

  “Something strange is going on,” said Joel. He opened the carriage door.

  Laura looked out the window. She could see in the shadows the colored driver was holding another colored man in a strong embrace. Both men were crying. Joel stood by on the sidewalk.

  “Let’s go see,” said Allison.

  They both stepped out and carefully made their way to the sidewalk. A moment later, the two men, still holding each other at the shoulders, separated slightly.

  “Look at you,” the older man said. “You all growed up and dressed so fine.”

  Laur
a recognized the voice. It couldn’t be.

  “Micah!” she yelled. “Is that you?”

  “Mrs. Foster?” he asked. “God be praised. How you be . . . you know my boy Eli?”

  She looked at the young man, his face awash with tears and a smile wider than she’d ever seen. “Is this your son?”

  Micah nodded.

  But of course it was. Laura ran over and wrapped her arms around Micah; she didn’t care how improper it might look. She pulled back a little. “I thought I’d never see you again. I’m sorry I didn’t say good-bye.” She turned to Eli and held out her hand. “Your father has told me so many things about you. Mostly about how much he missed you.”

  “I missed him too, ma’am,” he said. He looked back at his father, then hugged him again.

  “How wonderful,” Allison shouted. “So this just happened?”

  “Eli, this is your father?” Joel asked.

  Eli nodded. “Yes, sir, Mr. Foster. Sorry for stopping so suddenly. I couldn’t believe my eyes. There he was, just walking down the street.”

  “Extraordinary,” Joel said.

  “How did you get here?” Laura asked.

  “Walked all the way from the ship,” Micah said. “Cap’n let me go to bring you that note, the one your husband give you.”

  “My note? John’s note? You have it?” she asked.

  “Just give it to Mrs. Foster . . . the other Mrs. Foster. The mother,” he said.

  “You’ve just come from our house?” Joel asked, sounding concerned.

  “Yessuh, your man let me in. Said your mother want to read it.”

  “What did it say?”

  “Don’t know exactly. Can’t read. But my son Eli can, right, Eli?” Eli nodded. “Whatever it say, she cried a good spell but then seemed real happy. Thanked me all kinds of ways.”

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” said Eli. “You said you came from a ship?”

  “That’s right. Been on it the last three years.”

  “This is quite amazing,” Joel said. “Thank you for taking the trouble to deliver the note all the way here, and on foot. Is there anywhere we can take you? Eli can drop us off at the house then take you anywhere you need to go.”

  “And you can tell me all about what you’ve been doing, Daddy.”

  “Joel,” said Allison. “You can’t do that. They’ve just seen each other again after years of being apart. When do you have to be back to your ship, Mr. Micah?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “There, then it’s settled,” she said. “He can stay with Eli tonight, and Eli can bring him there in the morning, after a good breakfast.”

  “I suppose that would be fine,” Joel said. “Well, then, shall we get back to the house?”

  Eli walked to the front of the carriage. “You can sit up here with me, Daddy.” He thought a moment, smiled, and said, “Got another surprise for you too. When we get back to the house.”

  “Don’t think I can take too much more,” said Micah.

  Laura stood back by the carriage door. “This is so amazing,” she said. For the moment, it had taken all her sadness away.

  Ayden Maul hung back about thirty yards, in between two lampposts, under a large elm. He wasn’t sure what all was happening with the carriage. But everyone was out, standing around on the sidewalk.

  He might never get a better chance. The Foster woman was by herself, near the back of the carriage, in the shadows.

  He silently got off his horse and pulled out his knife.

  53

  It all happened so quickly.

  Laura first noticed Micah’s face. Instantly it changed from elation to terror. He was looking at her. No, beyond her.

  Joel, off to the side, turned toward Micah’s gaze. His expression also changed, a look of confusion.

  Thumping footsteps behind her. Running, coming closer.

  “Hold on, now,” Joel yelled.

  Laura turned toward the footsteps, saw a dark shape rushing toward her from the shadows. A man’s shape, his arm raised. A flash of metal in his hand. He was attacking her. He’d be on her in a moment. She lifted her hands to protect her face.

  “What?” said Allison, turning. She screamed.

  “Daddy,” Eli yelled.

  Laura closed her eyes, awaiting the blow. A prayer began to form in her head.

  Loud footsteps now rushed in front of her, past her. A loud sound near her, behind her. Shouts and groans. Men colliding, falling to the street. She opened her eyes.

  “No, Missuh Maul.” Micah wrestled with someone on the street. They rolled over and back.

  “You’re a dead man!” the attacker shouted.

  “Stop!” Allison said. “Make them stop.”

  One of the men cried out in pain. Another shape rushed past her and jumped into the fray. It was Eli.

  Eli grabbed Maul, lifted him in one motion, spun him around, and punched him square on the jaw. He fell to the street, tripping over Micah’s feet. Eli jumped on him, pounding him with his fist over and over. “You’re the dead man,” he shouted through clenched teeth.

  The knife fell from Maul’s hand.

  “Stop, Eli, you’ll kill him,” said Joel, hurrying toward the two men.

  Eli didn’t stop.

  “Son . . .” Micah said weakly, rolling to his side. “Eli, stop.” He reached out and grabbed his son’s arm.

  Eli stopped. He was panting like a racehorse.

  Laura couldn’t stop trembling. Maul was trying to kill her.

  Joel touched Eli on the shoulder. “Come on, son. You’ve knocked him cold. He’s not going anywhere.” He looked at Micah. “You’re bleeding.”

  “Daddy,” Eli said. He got off Maul and crawled to his father, cradling his head in his lap. “He cut you. Where are you hurt?”

  “Got me in the shoulder, I think.” He moved a little and winced in pain.

  “He’s bleeding a lot,” said Eli. “I need something to stop it.”

  “Do something, Joel,” said Allison.

  Joel walked up to her and bent over.

  “What are you doing?”

  He ripped a part of her dress below the knees then walked over to Laura. “You need to take Eli’s place. Hold this to Micah’s wound.”

  Laura took the cloth and turned toward Micah. She stared at Maul lying unconscious on the ground. “What if he wakes?”

  “That’s why I need you to take care of Micah. Eli, you need to watch him. You obviously know what to do if he comes to.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Foster.”

  Allison looked at Joel. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to get help. A policeman usually patrols our neighborhood this time of night, sometimes two. I’m going to find him, have him take this scoundrel off our hands.”

  Laura bent down and exchanged places with Eli. “I’m going to press this on the wound, Micah. It may hurt.”

  “Press hard, ma’am. Need to, or it won’t stop bleedin’.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, pressing down.

  He groaned. “It’s all right, you doin’ just fine.”

  She looked up at Eli, standing now with his foot resting on Maul’s chest. Then down at Micah’s face. “Micah . . . you saved my life.”

  He smiled, then grimaced in pain. “Yes’m. Guess I did.”

  “He was going to kill me.”

  “I ’spect he was.”

  “But why?”

  “Saw the hate in his eyes on the ship, twice. The time you helped me after the whuppin’ and when he stole all that gold. Cap’n threw him off the ship this morning. Guess he blamed you for all his trouble.”

  Laura sighed. She was still shaking.

  “Don’t you worry, Mrs. Foster,” Eli said. “He won’t try to hurt you again.”

  Joel was already gone. Allison walked closer. “Can I do anything?”

  Eli bent over and picked up the knife. “Pray this man doesn’t wake up,” he said. “He does, and I’ll kill him.”r />
  54

  The Angeline had docked. John was on land. The absence of motion, an indescribably wonderful sensation.

  Word spread quickly through Norfolk that another rescue ship bearing survivors of the Vandervere had arrived. A crowd had instantly gathered, rejoicing and cheering. Once on shore, John and the other men understood that the shipwreck story had run in all the newspapers. And every story said they had all perished.

  The survivors were told the National Hotel in Norfolk had offered them rooms at no charge. Several restaurant owners and merchants offered food and new clothes. The mayor said that tomorrow they could begin the journey north to New York. A passenger train made a regular stop in Norfolk around 10:00 a.m.

  Wagons were provided to drive them to the hotel. When they arrived, John had just one thing on his mind: to get back to Laura, or at least send her word that he was alive and well. As the men stood in line to register, John noticed amidst the crowd in the lobby one of the Norfolk men who’d spoken out earlier, a clothier John remembered, wearing a derby hat.

  “Excuse me, Robert. I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I need to talk to someone.” John found the man talking to another well-dressed older man sitting in a high-backed chair. When they saw John, they stopped and turned. “Sorry to bother you,” John said.

  “No bother at all,” the man said. “Anything we can do for you men.”

  “Thank you. Would you know if the telegraph office is still open at this hour?”

  “I’m sorry, my good man. It is not.”

  John sighed. He had imagined as much. There had to be something he could do. “Are there any trains heading north tonight?”

  “I’m afraid not. The first passenger train stops here tomorrow, 10:00 a.m. I believe.”

  “I know about that. Any other trains? A freight train perhaps?”

  “Come to think of it, there is one. I use it at my store sometimes.” He looked at his timepiece. “Comes in about forty minutes, as a matter of fact. And it rides right up the eastern seaboard, through New York City . . . if I understand what you’re aiming at.”