by Mari Labbee
“They will be like cousins in every sense of the word,” she said to me. I agree, a closer friend I do not have. I confessed that thus far I have felt nothing other than sickness as I wake. Meg laughed and stated that it must be a girl. I hope so, a daughter would be wonderful. I told her about Madeline, and she was puzzled, wondering why she would have gone. Oddly, when I went looking for Isabel, I couldn’t find her anywhere. Meg asked me all sorts of questions about her and wanted to meet her, but Isabel had gone off somewhere, and she took her two servants with her. Elias was also gone. We searched up and down, but they were not to be found. As I spoke of Isabel, Meg looked at me curiously, and I felt she was not forthcoming with her thoughts. I had the feeling that she did not believe me about Isabel. That puzzled me. She stayed until just past noon. It would have been a longer visit, but the heat today was dreadful, and I am feeling it more because of my condition. Though it has been just a short time, my middle has expanded enough to make my dresses feel tight, and I have gone without my corset, which helps in this heat. The medallion Madeline gave me has begun cutting into me, so I removed it this morning and put in my bureau drawer for safe keeping. I will wear it again after the baby arrives. Now that Madeline is gone, I cherish it even more.
June 18, 1833
Until now, I have been managing through the day, but yesterday and this morning have been horrible. I am doubled over in pain, and I have no appetite. Elias comes and goes like a ghost. I am losing patience with him. The only one concerned for me is Isabel. She makes sure I get fed and brings my meals when I am not well enough and stay in bed. She sends Minkah with a tray of food for me. If it wasn’t for her, I have no idea what would happen to me.
June 20, 1833
Today I noticed that Minkah no longer hums like she did when she first arrived. One always knew where she was because, day and night, she hummed ceaselessly. I tried to remember when it was that I last heard her humming. Not only does she not sing but she has also become very careless. She has discarded the little pride she took in her dress before. Yesterday I had to mention to Isabel that Minkah’s blouse buttons were completely undone when she brought up my tray. Isabel promised to speak to her. Perhaps it is the heat; it is making us all mad.
July 2, 1833
Today I accompanied Elias into town. It will be my last journey for some time. Elias seems to be coming around. He was the way I remembered when we first became engaged. Perhaps it was because we were together and away from the house. We arrived back home in the late afternoon, and I was feeling exhausted. I will say that expecting a child is a very tiring thing. I have never felt so tired.
August 1, 1833
It has been weeks now that I am feeling something strange. Not just because I am mostly bedridden with sickness that lasts from morning until night; it is because of the other things, but I cannot tell a soul about it.
I hear voices in my head, all the time. I fear it is happening again like when I first learned that Elias’s ship was missing. I turn a corner thinking someone is there, but no one is there. I have the feeling I am being talked about. Am I acting strangely because of my condition? I have heard that expecting can make a woman act differently. I should write to Meg to ask her if she experienced these same strange feelings.
August 10, 1833
I fear something is happening but cannot say what. Two nights ago, I woke in the dead of night after going to bed early because of dizziness. I sat up in bed only to find that Elias was not in bed, but stranger still, Isabel was in my room, searching through my things. Her back was to me, and she was at my bureau, looking for something. I watched her as she searched. She was trying not to wake me, being very quiet, but then she turned around to look at me. I cannot remember now if we spoke words; strangely, I do not remember anything past that.
Quite cross with her, the next morning I asked why she had been in my room and why she was searching through my things. She began laughing and put her arm around my shoulder.
“Poor dear, I was not in your room,” she said. Then she told me I had been dreaming. She was very convincing, and for a short time, I believed her, but something was not right. That was not a dream; she was in my room, and she was looking for something. Why would she lie about this?
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Bri read the passage again. The dream had not been a dream at all. It had happened to her! This was incredible.
She took a long, deep breath.
“Rosabel was real, Elias was real, it’s all real,” she whispered.
Early morning light streamed through the portholes and filled the cabin with light; she needed a break, might as well start some coffee. She’d been up half the night reading, but there was still more to go, and she intended to read it all.
Rosabel had written about them all; Elias who went from playful and romantic to a dark creature who ultimately raped her. Did she even realize that is what he had done? What had changed him so completely? Where had he been during his disappearance? What had happened to him in that time? Bri noticed that soon after Rosabel wrote of learning the Sparrow was declared overdue, her neat feminine script changed into heavy, angry pen strokes. They betrayed her anger and frustration. The lighthearted tone that appeared in the first part of the diary became claustrophobic and dark, especially when the visions and voices made their first appearance.
Madeline was Rosabel’s angel. From what she’d written, Bri figured Madeline was a healer of some merit with her teas and herbs. Madeline was the one who hung the red silk fabric, knowing that when sunlight filled the room, it would reflect red. Today red light is considered healing and is used to treat depression, among other conditions, and though crude and basic, it probably helped. From Rosabel’s description, Bri was pretty sure Madeline was from New Orleans. The relationship between the two women was more a friendship than anything else. It probably wasn’t the norm to be friendly with the servants, but the isolation of Jackal’s Head Point made it necessary.
After the loss of the Sparrow was all but confirmed, Rosabel wrote of resigning herself to living the life of a widow like Aunt Vivian. Bri was sure depression played a part in everything that was happening in Rosabel’s life, but there was something more. The madness reached a peak the night she painted the mural. She wrote of invisible hands that came for her. She had no recollection of painting the mural or cutting herself and seeing it had frightened her so much that it sent her running from the house.
The story of Rosabel was real enough, and the diary gave her a measure of understanding, but it still didn’t explain why she was having dreams and what they signified. Was Rosabel trying to communicate? Was that possible? She didn’t believe in ghosts. But just because one doesn’t believe in something doesn’t mean it isn’t so.
She just wanted this to stop so she could move on with her life.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
“That good, huh?” Matt stood at the bedroom threshold, watching her.
She jumped when she heard him and snapped the diary shut. What she had just read sealed everything for her. Bri now knew that none of this was her imagination. She had been there. She had sat up in bed and looked directly into Isabel’s eyes that night, and it was Isabel in the lighthouse. She knew who that was now. But more than that, she was sure that Isabel had looked at her—Bri—not at Rosabel. Somehow, Isabel had known it wasn’t just Rosabel there; it wasn’t just Rosabel she was looking at, and that prospect frightened Bri the most. That hand was reaching out across time.
And now she knew that Rosabel had been pregnant when she killed herself. What could have driven her to that kind of desperation? Bri couldn’t understand that at all and wouldn’t accept it. What would make any woman do what she did knowing she was pregnant? It was certain now; none of this was imagined. First things first, she thought. Map it out, connect the dots, connect the dreams, and get the timeline straight. Then what? What do I do after that? How do I make all this stop? How can I make Isabel and Rosabel go away?
Ma
tt coughed and ran a hand through tousled hair.
“Sorry,” he said sleepily, “didn’t mean to scare you. How long have you been up?”
She would have to tell him about everything she’d learned. The smell of coffee filled the cabin. No need to right now; there would be plenty of time to tell him.
“Awhile,” she said, smiling, as she whisked the diary off the table and dropped it back in her tote bag.
“I make great scrambled eggs,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow.
“No, really. I’ll prove it,” she said.
“I’ll just jump in the shower,” Matt said.
He turned around just before stepping into the bathroom.
“Gotta conserve fresh water on a boat. Want to join me?” he asked, winking over his shoulder. Her cheeks warmed, and she knew she was blushing. Smiling, she followed Matt into the tiny bathroom.
There was no heat this morning. The air was crisp and smelled of the sea as clouds like pulled cotton floated past high above. The sky was alive with birds, lots of them. And the harbor was waking up. Commercial fishing boats motored past, crews busy on deck, on their way out to sea. Visiting boats were readying to leave, their passengers on deck, coffee in hand, enjoying a final moment of relaxation before moving on.
She helped Matt prepare the Audrey Natalia for the sail home, feeling at ease and actually confident; maybe she’d get the hang of this sailing thing, after all. Of course, it was easy with Matt. He did most of the work. But today the lines didn’t feel foreign in her hands, and she didn’t have to think about balancing herself on the rocking boat. Within the hour, they had weighed anchor and were heading out to sea.
“Why don’t you try steering for a bit?” Matt asked.
“Me?”
He nodded. She shrugged. “Ok!”
She took the wheel and watched Matt working the winch to raise the sails. She knew that her confidence stemmed in great part from the fact that Matt was at arm’s length, ready to jump in and save them if the need presented itself; besides, there was nothing for her to crash into out there. Maybe that had a little to do with it.
The Audrey Natalia lunged forward as her sails filled with wind, and Matt came around to stand behind her. The wind hit them straight on, and she could feel Matt’s warmth. She thought about Elias, about how, as a sailor during those dangerous times, he knew that every time he sailed, he risked not just never seeing home again but any land ever again. Why would a man leave everything behind for a life of chance on a ship? This is why, she thought. To be on the open sea was equal parts calming and exciting, but it was more than that. The power of that living ocean came up through the hull; she could feel it under her hands as she held the wheel and beneath her feet as she swayed in rhythm with the waves. Matt was one of those people—he left everything and everyone he’d known, to come looking for this.
They hit choppy water a few miles out, and Matt took over. She took the opportunity to go down to the cabin to fetch the diary. Back on deck she settled herself against the mizzenmast and prepared to read the rest of it.
“How’s that developing?” Matt asked.
“I’ll tell you all about it,” she said over the wind. He nodded, smiling. Bri steadied herself against the mast. The Audrey Natalia, sails full, cut smoothly through the chop. She opened the diary and found the page where she had left off.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
August 12, 1833
Elias has almost finished the mantel for the hearth. He has worked tirelessly since his return but still not spoken one word of where he was and avoids me these days, turning away when he sees me coming. I feel helpless and do not know how to turn this around.
August 18, 1833
There is something wrong with those two. Malik had taken to smoking a pipe now. Minkah disappears for hours at a time day and night. And Elias has been acting more strangely than usual. Why did Madeline go? I cannot put my finger on what is happening, but something is afoot and out of sorts. I wish I knew where Madeline has gone. I would go right this instant if I knew.
Isabel is very kind and shows great concern for me, but I do not know whether I should trust her, either, not after she lied, as I am sure she did, about being in my room. I do not let any of them know what I am thinking. I have considered telling Isabel about my concerns, but something stops me. I am not sure why exactly.
Best not to let on that I have concerns, my greatest being for our child, Elias’s and mine.
August 20, 1833
I was left alone in the house again today with only Minkah hovering and watching. Not a word from anyone about where they had gone. I am suspicious that they leave Minkah behind not to care for me but to keep me from leaving and to watch what I do. I feel dreadful and can barely eat. If I had the strength to leave, I believe I would try to at least make it to the Sutties’.
August 25, 1833
I know they’ve been in my room. My things are moved about and never where I left them. I don’t believe they have found the diary. It would be horrible if they found it and read all I have put down, so I decided to hide it and found the perfect hiding place for it away from here. I may not be able to write as often, but still, it will be safe.
August 27, 1833
Today was difficult, and I was bedridden for most of it but felt better by evening and joined all in the dining room for supper. It gave me the chance to retrieve my diary afterward.
Isabel seemed very happy and chattered on and on, but for the life of me, I cannot remember now what about. Elias was not at supper, but that is not uncommon. Tonight I truly missed Madeline and wished she were still here.
What will happen after the baby arrives? I dare not think that far ahead yet. Will we be safe?
August 29, 1833
It has been a strange day. Elias came to sit with me this morning. He held my hand and kissed me for the first time since he returned, and he smiled in the familiar way I know so well. He told me that now everything would be all right, and we would go on to have a large family. Nobody could know how happy those words made me, yet I feel he was holding something back.
In the afternoon I was feeling well enough for a walk and went out to the lighthouse. I stood at the edge of the cliff and looked out to sea. It was the most beautiful shade of blue that I can remember ever seeing.
The mood in the house has lightened of late. Even Malik is humming tunes now. I heard him as I came in through the garden after my walk. It was quite out of tune, but still, his dour countenance is gone.
I will write again soon.
Bri turned the page, confident there would be another filled with the neat script, but the next page and all the rest were blank. She flipped through the diary several times, hoping for more, but that was it—the last page.
Suddenly the Audrey Natalia rose sharply out of the water, came down hard, and Bri lost her balance. She put a hand out to steady herself and almost lost the diary in the process. The weather had changed—for the worse. The sails were full to bursting. Matt yelled in her direction.
“Lower the jib!”
She nodded, and as she hurried past the cabin door on her way to the bow, she tossed the diary down below; it landed on the table. She would retrieve it later. The boat rocked wildly. After lowering the jib, she made her way over to Matt, holding on tight as she went.
“The barometer just dropped. It won’t be getting any better,” he said.
“How much longer before we’re home?” she shouted over the howling wind.
“Just a little under an hour out.”
Not too far off in the distance, and coming their way fast, rain clouds crawled across the sky, a smatter of lightning lit up the edges of the storm, and thunder growled low. It wasn’t cold, but she hugged herself tightly.
Matt had a good handle on what he was doing, and she focused on whatever he asked her to do. They were trying to outrun the storm, and she trusted he would get them home safely. She didn’t question or second-guess his d
ecisions; she just did what she was told as quickly as possible, trying not to focus on how fast the storm was moving. The chop was getting worse, but the Audrey Natalia cut through it, putting some distance between them and the storm. Just as they spotted the Whittlebee Marina, the storm caught up with them, and the rain came down. Bri took the wheel as they came into the marina so Matt could lower the sails. Then he took over and brought them in. Just as Matt secured the Audrey Natalia in her slip, the heavens opened, and the rain fell in sheets.
“Get down below!” Matt yelled.
She nodded, and he followed soon after. In the cabin, they both stopped and stared at each other for a moment before dissolving into laughter. They looked like drowned rats.
“You look so…so…” She laughed.
“Yeah? Well, you don’t look much better.”
Bri ran a hand through her hair, and the water ran off it onto the cabin floor.
“Oh,” she said, looking at the puddle. “I’ll go get towels.”
She found towels in the bathroom cabinet and grabbed two of them. When she stepped back out, Matt had already taken off his clothes. He stood in front of the galley sink, naked and bent from the waist, shaking his head over the sink, and little drops of water dripped from the ends of his toffee-brown hair. He turned and smiled. She stood looking at him a few moments before realizing he was waiting for her to hand him one of the towels.
“Oh! Here,” she said, quickly handing one over.
“Thanks,” he said and began drying off.
Later she would think that it was probably at that very moment that she realized she had fallen in love with Matt. Seeing him naked hadn’t been a surprise. What had been a surprise was the way she felt at seeing him. It was not just lust (though that was certainly part of it); it was way more than that. He made her feel safe and warm and happy. She didn’t want to be anywhere else or with anyone else.