Five Sisters

by Leen Elle

  "Who?" Nora repeated, "I don't understand."

  "I can't believe you've never realized it," Mary continued, still shaking her head, "He does anything you ask. He plays checkers and cards with you everyday and just ignores the fact that your more interested than the handsome rogue Ben Leslie than in the game. He continues to stand by your side even though he knows how much you fancy another man. In fact, I can't even believe it, but he's actually assisted you in your effort to gain Ben's affections. I didn't understand it for so long. I didn't know why he continued to be your friend when you could only speak and think of Ben. I don't think I could have done it, spending each hour with you and listening to you go on and on about another man. I didn't understand how he did it or, more importantly, why he did it. But then I saw it. I saw that look in his eyes, that tiny glimmer of hope, and I knew . . . And if you still can't see it, if you can't see how greatly he cares for you, then my heart goes out to that poor boy. All he ever wanted was to see you happy. He'd forget all about his own happiness in favor of yours. And he deserves far more than he's ever received."

  Once again, Nora was speechless. She stared off into space for a few seconds before reacting to her sister's words. And when she did react, she could barely make out the words her heart was feeling, "But he's just . . . he's just Sawyer. Just Sawyer."

  CHAPTER 24

  Adieu, Dear Nathaniel

  "Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

  Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,

  While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

  As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

  ''Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door;

  Only this, and nothing more.'"

  As Gail continued the poem, a lengthy piece called "The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe, her voice began to soften. Nathaniel was barely listening anymore. It seemed useless to keep speaking, but she did so anyway.

  Lying like a corpse on the bed, Nathaniel's body was barely more than skin and bones. The scant amount of muscle he had formerly beheld had diminished into nothing, leaving him far too weak to raise a cup of tea to his mouth or even lift his head off the pillow. His face, blank and colorless, was detailed only by the dark shadows beneath his eyes and the nest of light brown hair atop his head. As Gail read, he stared at the ceiling motionless. One couldn't distinguish whether or not he was truly listening to her or whether he even cared that she was there. The task was impossible when he rarely spoke.

  "But the raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only

  That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

  Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered;

  Till I scarcely more than muttered, 'Other friends have flown before;

  On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'

  Then the bird said, 'Nevermore.'"

  It was a terrible day. While reading, Gail would glance up to the porthole on the wall of Nathaniel's room. The wind blew furiously, whistling past the glass and blowing the ocean's spray against the ship. Although it was only midmorning, the sky had already grown so dark one might have assumed it were night. The clouds above, the color of charcoal, blocked any sunlight from view and threatened of a downpour at any moment.

  Gail adored the rain, but she wished it wouldn't have arrived at such an inopportune time. When Nathaniel was standing on a brink and the end was so near, Gail had hoped the sun might come out. Although she normally thought herself to be more rational than superstitious, a sunny day might have helped to raise Nathaniel's spirits. It might have lifted his strength, even the tiniest bit.

  But rain only signified a dreary ending to a dreary existence. It was never welcomed by the friend of an ailing invalid.

  "Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

  To the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;

  This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

  On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,

  But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er

  She shall press, ah, nevermore!"

  Nathaniel began to cough violently just as the first drops of rain fell upon the porthole. Gail shuddered. She stepped forward and brushed the hair out of his eyes before spooning him a tablespoon of his medicine, a syrupy brown liquid.

  Thunder clashed, shattering the sky into a million drumbeats, and was followed shortly by a flash of lightning that lit up the room. The rain grew harder, pounding against the ship, and Nathaniel turned his head ever so slightly to gaze out at it. Before returning to her seat, Gail wet a washrag and placed it upon his perspiring forehead. He didn't, couldn't, thank her.

  And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

  On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

  And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.

  And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

  And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

  Shall be lifted-nevermore!

  As she finished the poem, Gail set the book down beside her and pulled her knees up close to her chest, setting her head in the center. The rhythm of the rain beating against the glass of the porthole made for a soothing song. Gail listening to it silently whilst gazing at Nathaniel. He'd let the rag fall forward onto his face so that it now covered his eyes rather than his forehead.

  His hand, looking nearly as stark white as the sheets it lied upon, was trembling though the room was both stuffy and hot. Gail watched it, jostling around as though it were a fish out of water. Biting her lip, she leaned forward suddenly and grabbed it. With both hands, she held it. Although enclosed now, it continued to shake with the same, if not more, vivacity as before.

  Nathaniel still lied motionless, apparently either unaware that she now held his hand or unable to remove the washrag from his eyes and show her that he knew.

  The room shook as another crash of thunder sounded in the distance, this time closer than the last. Gail jumped when she heard it, squeezing Nathaniel's hand and then holding it up to her cheek. Her warm skin was cooled by the icy chill of his hand. The thunder was followed shortly by a flash of lightning and a fierce wind blowing against the ship.

  "Oh Nathaniel," Gail whispered with a weak smile, her voice barely audible, "Whenever will you be well again?"

  As was expected, the invalid didn't answer. He lay still beneath his covers and his washrag.

  As the storm quieted down for a moment, Gail felt his hand cease its constant movement. She, ever so slowly, raised it off her cheek and lifted it to her lips, kissing the back of his hand. Still, he didn't move.

  Gail was about to lay her head down upon the bed, to rest for a moment, when the door opened and Emy entered.

  "How is he?" Emy said softly, "How, er . . . How is Mr. West?"

  Gail, setting down Nathaniel's hand, looked up slowly, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes, "I don't know. I-I never seem to know anymore."

  "Has he been saying much? Is there anything he wants?"

  "He really doesn't talk much," gulped Gail, "He just lies there silently . . . I've never seen such a pitiful sight."

  "Well," Emy explained, "I was told to come down here by Charlie. He wishes to speak with you in his office . . . alone. I promised to stay with Nathaniel while you were gone just in case anything . . . in case anything should happen to him."

  Gail slid her legs out from beneath her and scratched her head, looking around the room.

  "Do you remember where all his medicines are?" she asked Emy, "And that he doesn't like his tea very hot? And do you know what to do if begins to shake?"

  "I remember," Emy promised, "So you needn't worry, as I know you want to. It's alright. I know you don't want to leave him but
I promise I'll make a suitable nurse while you're gone."

  Gail forced a nod, though it was apparent she truly didn't want to leave Nathaniel's side. If the end should come while she was gone, she'd regret the moment for the rest of her life and she knew it. But nevertheless, she left the room and trudged up the stairs to the ship's deck. Then, after holding her sweater above her head to ward off the rain, she ran into the office.

  Charlie was pacing the floor, as he so often seemed to do these days. As she Gail entered, he looked up and gave her a short nod of recognition, "Gail."

  Gail nodded in return, "Charlie."

  The poor man appeared rather flustered, scratching his head and fidgeting with the collar of his shirt. He motioned towards the shabby couch in the corner, "You can sit down, if you like. I've just . . . I've got something that I need to speak with you about."

  "Of course." Gail walked across the room and sat down upon the sofa, setting her hands down beneath her thighs.

  After pacing the room a bit more, Charlie stopped in front of Gail, his hands in his pockets.

  "Your . . . Your friend Nathaniel is very, very ill, as I'm sure you don't need reminding," he began, "For you've seen the condition of his ailment more than anyone else on board. At the start of this journey, his health was bad, yes, but that was nothing compared to now. He's . . . He's barely alive, lying on his deathbed, struggling for every breath. You've done all that you can, Gail, and I know that. Doing whatever he asks . . . sitting with him through both day and night . . . giving him his medicine. He couldn't ask for any more of you, I'm sure. And both he and I thank you for that. But there's only so much we can do. You're only a fifteen year old girl, Gail . . . And I, I'm only an old ship captain. We're not doctors and we, although we've done all we can, do not know exactly what's best for Nathaniel right now. He needs professional help if he . . . if he wants a chance to . . . to . . ." Charlie opened his mouth as if to say more, but the words wouldn't come. He scratched his head and looked at Gail and they both knew what he had meant to say. Words needn't be spoken.

  With a gulp, Charlie continued, "I'd planned to take Nathaniel to Wickensville . . . But now, looking at my map, and with the delay of this storm, I don't think that'll be possible if we don't want him to get any worse. It would take at least three more days, I believe, if not more. And I don't want to risk another moment. I've already instructed Sawyer to steer us in another direction and he's doing so at this very instant. We're heading to St. Francis County. It's not where we meant to bring Nathaniel, but he has a better chance if we get him to a doctor as quickly as possible."

  "How soon will we arrive?"

  "By mid-afternoon, I hope."

  "And you're sure they have a suitable hospital there?"

  Charlie nodded, "I'm positive."

  *****

  "Have you got his legs, Murphy?"

  "Yes."

  "Alright then, let's move him onto the stretcher in one, two, three!"

  Three hospital aides, shouting to be heard above the rage of the storm, lifted Nathaniel's body, so weak it barely weighed anything, onto a canvas stretcher held by two other men. The invalid's eyes fluttered open and closed. One couldn't really determine whether he knew what was going on.

  "Wait! Wait! He's shaking! Let me get the blankets!" Charlie pulled the quilts off of Nathaniel's bed and laid them onto his body, "He'll catch pneumonia if you let him get too wet!"

  "We've got umbrellas, Mr. Wilkie!" replied one of the hospital aides, "You needn't worry!"

  "Let's head up the stairs! But keep it steady!"

  "Have you got him covered?"

  "Lift up the back of the stretcher, Rick!"

  "Have you got all his medicines?"

  "It's pouring out there!"

  "I've got'em in the box!"

  "Let's head out!"

  Amidst a chaos of orders and screams, the hospital aides moved Nathaniel slowly upstairs. Their boots clanked up the wooden boards and their shouts echoed against the walls, challenging the clash of the thunder outside. With their heads bowed against the rain, they headed up on deck. Two doctors, dressed in white trench coats, rushed forward with black umbrellas. They held them over Nathaniel, protecting him from most of the rain.

  Nearby, Mary, Sara, Nora, Emy, and Gail stood shivering, drenched from head to toe. Gail stepped forward as soon as she saw them emerge, trying to catch sight of Nathaniel in the mess of hospital aides, doctors, umbrellas, and blankets.

  Lightning flashed and Gail felt herself pulled to the side by a pair of hands upon her shoulders. It was Charlie. He wore no hat and locks of light brown and gray hair lay against his forehead, soaked.

  "How's he doing?" Gail shouted, pleading to Charlie.

  Charlie shook his head sadly, "I don't know!"

  The sailors, standing silently behind the women, gave a salute as the stretcher began to move off the ship, down the ramp towards shore. The girls waved, though they knew Nathaniel couldn't see them, and wished him well.

  Gail, with Charlie's hands upon her shoulders, watched them leave with hesitation. This was it. This was the end. Most likely, after this moment, she would never see Nathaniel West again. Ever.

  Breaking free of Charlie's grasp, she darted forward, pushing her way between the hospital aides. Nathaniel lay there, finally out in the fresh air for once in his life but unable to enjoy it. His face was dotted with several spare raindrops, those that had escaped the umbrellas, and his silvery gray eyes lit up ever so slightly as he spotted Gail.

  "Goodbye!" Gail shouted. She bit her lip, brushing the rain from her eyes, "Adieu, Nathaniel!"

  He blinked, but didn't speak. It was enough to signify a farewell and Gail was thankful for it, but she wished dearly that he'd had the strength to do more.

  As the mob moved away, down the ramp and into a carriage, Gail felt Charlie's hand upon her shoulder once more. One only says adieu as a definitive farewell. And at that moment, Gail felt certain that she would never see Nathaniel again.

  CHAPTER 25

  The Last Supper

  "Would anyone like another roll?"

  "Pass the carrots, please!"

  "My compliments to the chef. Wonderful pasta, Mary!"

  "Take that napkin off your head, Rory! It's not a hat and you're not a child."

  "Here's your coffee, Charlie. Does anyone else need something to drink?"

  "Oh, I can't wait to get to Brighton. My feet are just yearning for dry land."

  "Close that window. It's an icebox in here!"

  Gathered at the table for their last meal aboard the ship, the sailors and the St. James sisters were talking, eating, and enjoying the little time they had left together.

  Mary, with her black curls pinned back into a bun, sat at one end of the table beside Carl Linwood and Dick Cohen. Unlike some previous moments in the past few weeks, tonight Mary could speak only of Ethan. Throughout the meal, compliments of him sprang to her lips and the sailors around her grew bored of hearing about how "wonderful" and "perfect" her Dr. Ethan Lindsey truly was.

  "He's been studying in Brighton for nearly three months now," she said, scooping some green beans onto her plate, "So he should become an official, certified doctor in no at all! Of course, he still needs to determine exactly what kind of doctor he wants to be. A pediatrician or a surgeon or . . . or . . . or what else is there? No matter! He can be whatever kind he likes and I'll still be very proud of him. I've always thought he'd make a fantastic pediatrician though. He works so well with children!"

  "Is that so?"

  "Oh yes! And we're going to have lots of children. Four, maybe five. Ethan's always said that he'd like to start a family very soon and I couldn't agree more! He'll make an excellent father, I'm sure. And hopefully I'll be a nice mother as well. We'll have two little boys, John and Samuel, after his grandfathers, and two little girls, Anna and Catherine, after my grandmothers. Won't that be just darling?"

  "Are you planning on it? Because you know, you can't determi
ne the sexes of your own children."

  "Of course, of course. But I just . . . I have this feeling that it's all going to work out that way. And if doesn't, I have replacement names of course. All the names are already settled so that we won't have anything to worry about when the time finally comes!"

  Dick yawned, "How responsible of you."

  "I like to have everything planned out as quickly as possible so that I have nothing to worry about later. I've already got the wedding plans all figured out, I just need to run them by Ethan and his mother. I'll wear a white gown and a long, lacy veil and my sisters will all be dressed in plum. We'll have the church decorated with lilacs and baby's breath, the scent will be just heavenly! And afterwards, we'll gather at his father's house for a celebration! There'll be loads of food- fruits and cheeses and potatoes and roasted turkey. So much food it'll be fit for a Queen! And we'll hire a band to play so that everyone can dance and have a merry old time. Oh, I can't wait! I wish all you boys could be there. If you stop in Brighton again very soon, you simply must check and see if we've held the wedding yet! And if we haven't, you're all invited to come, of course."