by Kage Baker
FOURTEEN:
Fables
IT HAD BEEN A young goat, and roasted up well, with a lot of dripping that they caught carefully in a coconut shell; not for eating, but to grease up the swivel gun and the pistol. They celebrated the fresh meat with abundant rum, and grew very merry about the fire; all except Sejanus, who seemed sullen and out of sorts.
“I declare, sir,” said Mr. Tudeley, “This is most unlike you. Be of good cheer! The night is fine, the company excellent. Perhaps someone knows a diverting song or story? What of you, Mr. James? Will you not entertain us with some sort of sailor lore?”
John looked up, blinking sleepily. He had taken on board as much supper as he could hold, and would have liked nothing better than to nod off there by the fire. But he sat upright and rubbed his whiskery chin.
“Well,” he said. “Sailor lore. Don’t know any sailor lore, to speak of. But I know a story, I guess.
“There was this boy named Dick, see. And he was real poor. Youngest of three and his oldest brother got the farm and his sister got the money laid by to be her dowry, and so all that was left to him when the will was read was the cat.
“So he has to go out into the world to seek his fortune. And the cat says, ‘What are you looking so downcast for?’
“And Dick’s surprised and all, because a cat can’t talk, can it? So he says to the cat, he says, ‘I didn’t know you could talk, Puss.’ And Puss says, ‘Ah, well, I can do a lot more than talk. I’m a lucky cat, I am. Just you make me a nice pair of boots to wear, and a gentleman’s hat, and make sure I always have enough cream and fish for my dinner, and I’ll fetch you anything you want.’ ”
“And the fool gave him the boots and hat, didn’t he?” said Sejanus.
“Aye,” said John. “So, the cat eats the fish, and drinks up the cream, and puts on the hat and boots, and stands up like a little man. ‘Come on, master,’ he says, ‘The first thing we got to do is find a ship.’ So they go somewhere, Portsmouth or Bristol or Dover maybe, and they ship out on a vessel bound for Araby. And pretty soon the other sailors is jealous, because Dick’s got this talking cat, see? And they start to talk amongst themselves about how it ain’t natural, and they ought to pitch both Dick and the cat overboard on account of Dick being a wizard.
“But the cat gets to hear about it, on account of he’s always sneaking about as cats do, and he goes and digs out this almanac he pinched from a bookseller’s stall afore they left land, and he reads up on the weather that’s to come, and next day he stands in the waist of the ship and starts to prophesy how the weather’s going to be. Captain hears him from the quarterdeck and says, ‘What the hell are you?’
“The cat jumps up on the quarterdeck and doffs his hat all respectful and says, ‘If you please, sir, I’m a lucky weather-predicting cat, and I belong to Dick Whittington.’ Captain likes cats, and he thinks it’s real pretty the cat’s got on a little hat and boots. ‘Well, ain’t you the sweety-weetiest thing!’ quoth he. ‘You shall be my own cat now, and predict the weather for me, and that way I’ll always have smooth sailing.’
“But Puss says, ‘Oh, no, dear Captain, I’m a loyal cat, and I couldn’t possibly leave my own dear master Dick unless you was to give him your golden sword and your big pistol, and your plumy hat besides.’ So the captain grumbles a bit but he gives Dick his golden sword and his big pistol and his plumy hat, see?
“And then Puss goes to live in the Captain’s cabin and gets the best fish on a golden plate, and sleeps on a goosedown cushion, and never has to turn out in foul weather like the poor sailors do.”
“Typical,” said Sejanus.
“I expect Dick felt himself ill-used,” said Mrs. Waverly.
“Well, you have to wait and see how it turns out,” said John. “See, all the while the cat’s living in the captain’s cabin, he’s studying on the captain’s charts. And at night he creeps down into the ship and steals stores, and wraps them up in canvas and hides ’em in the boat. Then he goes into Dick’s sea chest, and he takes out the golden sword and the big pistol and the plumy hat and he hides them in the boat too. Pretty soon he’s ready, and he says, ‘Captain dear, I have a secret to tell you. There’s an island of pure gold not far away, and I can take you there; but you’ll have to let me do the steering, because only I know the course.’
“Captain says, ‘Why then, you take the tiller, Puss; just you get us there as fast as you can!’
“So Puss takes the tiller, and stays there all day and into the dark of night. And just as the moon sets, he runs them hard on a rock, and in the shock and the crash he jumps up and blows all the lamps out. So when everyone comes running up on deck it’s black as pitch, and no man knows what’s what.
“But Puss can see in the dark, you know, and he jumps on Dick’s shoulder and says ‘Now, master, just you get into the boat and cast off sharp.’ Which Dick does. Puss bends to the oars and rows them away quick from the wreck, which has been holed pretty bad, and the men work like devils to get her off the rock at high tide, but when she works free, it turns out the hole’s bigger than it looked; she fills and goes down with all hands.”
“What a dreadful little creature!” said Mr. Tudeley.
“It’s a cat,” said John. “What d’you expect? So then, Puss rows them up on the shore, where there’s a big heathen city. And Puss says, ‘Quick now, bind on the golden sword, and stick the big pistol in your belt, and put the plumy hat on your head.” So Dick does, and then the heathen folk all come out of their palaces to stare at Dick and his cat. And Puss talks to them, because he can talk their yowly foreign talk, and what he tells them is, his master’s the King of England, who’s been in a shipwreck and landed on their shores.
“Well, they ain’t never seen the like, neither of Dick nor his cat, so they take him to the Grand Turk. And on the way to the Grand Turk’s palace Puss is looking all around, because there’s rats running in and out of the shops, and there’s rats in the eating-houses stealing food off peoples’ plates, and rats buggering the dogs, who are yipping and whining but daren’t bite them.”
“Mr. James!”
“I mean—I mean—hoping you’ll excuse me, ma’am. Strike that last bit. So anyhow they go to the Grand Turk. The Grand Turk, he says, ‘By the powers, what’re you?’ And Puss falls down flat and knocks his head on the Grand Turk’s shoe three times, and says, ‘Oh Grand Turk, may I introduce my master, the King of England? Hoping you’ll treat a fellow prince friendly-like, as his great grand ship with golden masts and silver spars and silken sails was most unfortunate lost at sea, and only we two escaped. He’d like to know if you can loan him the borrow of a ship to get home.’
“The Grand Turk looks them over and he’s seen men aplenty, but never seen no cat afore, in boots or out of ’em. He says, ‘Tell my fellow prince I’m sorry to say it, but we’ve fallen on hard times here on account of all these rats, and I can’t spare a ship nor any men to crew her.’
“Well! Puss grins, like a cat will, and says ‘I can fix your rats, oh Grand Turk. Just you make my master the King comfortable, and I’ll go out and have a word with ’em for you, shall I?’
“And he goes out and grins at the rats and says, ‘Right, my lads, you’re for it.’ And he sets about killing, and the ones as isn’t murdered straight away runs off so far they’re never seen again. He bites the heads off a round dozen or so and lugs ’em in by the whiskers, and says: ‘I reckon this lot won’t be troubling you any more, oh Grand Turk.’
“The Grand Turk’s mighty pleased at that, and says: ‘My fine fellow, are there other creatures like you in England?’ Puss bows low and he says, ‘Why, yes, there are a few of us. We only work for the very finest lords and ladies, though.’
“Grand Turk says, ‘How much would one of your lords or ladies ask, to sell such wonderful rat-killers?’
“Puss, he says ‘Oh, I don’t know if they’d sell one of us for less than a dozen chests of treasure. But, of course, you wouldn’t want just one; you�
�d want a gentlemen cat and a lady cat too, you see? And that way you’d soon be raising your own. So I would say twenty-five chests of treasure, on account of the ladies always cost more.’
“Grand Turk says, ‘Then I will load my best galley with presents for your King of England, and send him home in rare fashion. And I will put in twenty-five chests of treasure too, and when he gets back, he will surely send me a pair of rat-killers.’
“Puss bows low and says, ‘To be sure, Mr. Grand Turk, that he will.’
“So it was done. And Dick Whittington got home with his fortune made, and the heathen sailors was all pressed by the Navy so they couldn’t go back and tell no tales. And Puss lived like a Grand Turk himself the rest of his days, with all the cream he could drink, and all the fish he could eat.”
“Did you learn that story at your mother’s knee?” demanded Mr. Tudeley, scandalized.
“Some of it,” said John. “I made up bits where I didn’t remember. It’s only a fairy-story anyhow.”
“It had no morally instructive value whatever, I am afraid,” said Mrs. Waverly, with a solemn face.
“Chah! Like enough the cat would get his hat and boots, and sweet cream the rest of his days,” said Sejanus, with a sneer. He dipped himself another coconut-shellful of rum, and drank. “But I doubt he’d do anything for the boy in return. I’d say the boy worked to the end of his days keeping the cat happy.”
“Like enough,” said John, with a chuckle.
“You never want to give them what they ask for,” muttered Sejanus, taking another drink. “Because, see, then you believe in them. And that’s like chains on your reason. Good blacksmith can take shackles off your legs, but nobody can take off the other kind. And you put them on yourself. That’s the worst of it.”
“I beg your pardon?” said Mr. Tudeley.
“I am a free man,” said Sejanus, raising his voice. “And I intend to stay that way, you hear?”
“Maybe you had enough rum for tonight, mate,” said John, right before Mrs. Waverly screamed.
John sat bolt upright and almost screamed himself. Out at the edge of the firelight, just beyond the little palisado fence they had put up, stood a dead man.
It was the black they had found staring up from the rock pool, the one they had buried a good six feet down on the beach. He was dripping wet, with sand in his hair. He did not stare empty-eyed now; he gazed straight at Sejanus, looking sullen and resentful.
Sejanus turned and saw him, and leaped to his feet, spilling his rum. The dead man raised his arm and held out his hand, like someone asking for payment.
Sejanus turned his back. “No!” he said fiercely. “Don’t look at him, don’t think about him. You!” He grabbed Mr. Tudeley, who was staring at the dead man with his eyes standing out of his head. “Look at me! We’re reasoning men, aren’t we? No damn superstitions. You don’t see anything there!”
“But—but, sir, I must say I do—” said Mr. Tudeley, in a kind of gobbling squawk.
“No, you don’t!” Sejanus lifted him bodily and turned him toward the fire. “Nobody does! Look at the fire instead. You, too!” he added to Mrs. Waverly and John. “There’s no haunts. Nothing there in the dark. Close your eyes if you’re scared. Sing!”
He smacked the side of John’s head and John, keeping his eyes resolutely on the fire, began: “Taking his beer with old Anacharsis…”
They sang it three times through, with Mrs. Waverly joining in as well, though her voice trembled and she gripped John’s hand fair to break his fingers.
When they fell silent at last, John dared to look up at the palisadoes and saw nothing there. Sejanus grabbed a burning branch from the fire and scrambled to his feet. He went to the palisadoes and stared out at the night, holding the torch high.
“There is nothing there!” he shouted, and flung the branch. And nothing answered him; there was only the sound of the wind in the palm trees, and the soft boom and crash of the surf.
FIFTEEN:
Visitors
BY THE BROAD LIGHT of day it seemed best to pretend nothing strange had ever happened, though John got up early and went limping out on his crutch to look at the sand on the other side of the palisadoes. There were no footsteps there, nor any ghastly trail leading up from the black’s burying-place. A couple more corpses from the wreck had washed up on the shore in the night, to be sure, and the sharks had been at them, so John took an oar and went down on his knees to dig graves for them. He was getting so used to dead men by now, though, he might have been a householder in London sweeping down his front step.
* * *
With John able to totter about, they set to building the pinnace. Sejanus seemed to want to throw himself into hard work, and his momentum carried the others along. They labored in the sun, sweating to drag timbers from the wreck; it was a long weary business sawing a keel from the biggest beam, and they were obliged to dive the wrecks again to get enough hull-planking, though the sharks came eagerly to see what they were doing.
In the end they made a sort of grenade with some of the gunpowder in a coconut-shell. They set it smoldering and shut it quick in a weighted barrel, and dropped it over the side of the boat above the wreck, rowing away like hell. Mrs. Waverly’s saltpeter proved to work admirably; there was a belch of white water and the sea above the wreck foamed like a kettle on the boil. A great deal of planking floated ashore after that.
Unfortunately more dead men washed up too, pretty far gone now, disturbed by the concussion. They went into one mass grave, pitched in without ceremony, nothing more than nuisances now.
The living changed too. The men shaved at intervals, to keep their faces cooler, but the work stained and the sun bleached what they wore, and nobody bothered with stockings or shoes. Mr. Tudeley plaited himself a straw hat from palm fronds, which gave him a rakish look. Mrs. Waverly was very particular about washing and keeping her hair combed out fine, but she did persist in wearing nothing but a shift, and nothing under it as far as anyone could tell. And though she continued affectionate with John, she kept a prim distance from him by night, sleeping in her own little bower rigged up under a canvas sunshade.
John was too weary, after a day of hard work, to press for more. His restraint seemed to embolden Mr. Tudeley, who one day announced he was just going for a coconut.
“Either of you fellows care for one? I’ve a damned perishing thirst.” he said, elaborately casual.
Sejanus, busy planing a length of broken plank into a rudder for the pinnace, merely grunted his refusal. “Aye, thank’ee,” said John, who was hobbling back and forth in the sun like a donkey, dragging planks and beams from their lumber pile.
They worked on a while. At last John stopped, wiped his face on his sleeve and glared at the little heap of pegs Mr. Tudeley had been set to whittle.
“Where’s he got to, anyhow?”
“I reckon it’s all the fresh air,” said Sejanus cryptically, as he worked.
“What’s that?”
“Didn’t you notice? He’s been using the word damn all morning. Damn this, damn that, damn hot sun, damn wet wood. Did a lot of talking about damned Society and its damned restraints. Must be feeling powerful manly today.”
“Oh.”
“Well, I’d like my God-damned coconut,” said John. Sejanus snickered.
“I reckon he would too.”
“I’ll go get it myself, then,” said John, and started up the sand dune. As he came limping over the top he met Mr. Tudeley staggering back. Mr. Tudeley’s spectacles hung under his chin; one lens had been broken, and he had a split lip.
“Where’s my coconut? And what happened to you?” John demanded.
“Oh! I just thought I’d…see if there were fresher coconuts on the tree, you know, and I made to climb one, and, er, fell,” said Mr. Tudeley, pulling his straw hat down in a vain attempt to shade his face. He had lost another tooth, too. “Terribly sorry.”
He wobbled on past John, who watched him go and then hastened ba
ck to camp. There he found Mrs. Waverly apparently serene and untroubled, though her color was a little high. She was weaving strips of rags into cord to make slow-match, the very picture of a thrifty housewife.
“Is all well?” John asked. She looked up at him and smiled.
“Why, of course, Mr. James. What do you lack?”
“I was only thirsty, is all.”
“Ah!” She rose and, taking a cutlass, neatly whacked the top from one of the coconuts in their makeshift larder. “Allow me.” She presented John with the coconut. He drank from it, thanked her, and went back to work.
As he stood looking down at the beach, John saw a line of cloud advancing over the sea, far off to the east, the same dirty coppery color as he’d noticed the morning of the storm. “Bugger,” he muttered, and hurried down to the others. Sejanus had paused work to pick the broken glass out of Mr. Tudeley’s spectacles. As John approached he was tying a loop through the empty half of the frame.
“There you are,” he said, fastening it through Mr. Tudeley’s buttonhole. “It’ll dangle there and you can just hold it up to your eye when you want to look at something close.”
“Not that I waste much time reading nowadays,” said Mr. Tudeley, with a sigh.
“Look out there,” said John, pointing at the horizon. They looked.
“Oh, hell,” said Sejanus.
They spent the rest of the afternoon dragging everything they had salvaged up from the beach, and the half-finished pinnace and the boat too, as close to the center of the island as they could haul them. The clouds advanced smoothly, relentlessly, and the heat came with them. John thanked God he was safe on dry land this time.
They battened down, stowing the powderkegs under several thicknesses of canvas, and rigged a shelter with barrels and the overturned boat, for when the rain came; and yet, as the hours went by and the skittering hot wind fanned their faces, no rain fell. The sea rose and began to break on the reef with a sound like cannon fire.