Duby's Doctor
Page 28
Aaron had amused himself with Lila in the past, and they had renewed their acquaintance aboard the St. Gertrude in recent days, but in truth he found her shallow and annoying, regardless of her obvious physical charms. He was enough of a cad to use the ladies and discard them casually. He was enough of a gentleman that his paramours never felt his disinterest, never perceived him disrespectful. In every instance, his women felt he had been prevented from continuing their pleasant liaison by circumstances beyond his control. There was a war on, naturally.
Aboard the Lady Alyce, Captain Thibodeaux knew the other sloops were drawing closer, but his position as master of this wreck was secure. He took in the situation with a shrewd look and shouted to the stranded vessel, “St. Gertrude! Have we permission to come aboard?”
Lila gave Aaron her most persuasive pleading look, but his smile told her she had lost this argument.
“Very well,” she said. “I shall be in my cabin—securing my valuables.”
Aaron watched her leave the bridge, her gait calculated to keep his attention. Suddenly he was in an expansive mood. He called over the rail, “Come aboard, my friends! Do your worst!”
“On the contrary, sir,” Thibodeaux shouted. “We shall, as always, do our best!”
Thibodeaux gestured to his crewmen, who moved to carry out his unspoken order. Joe, at the helm, worked the Lady Alyce close alongside the St. Gertrude, where crewmen tied her up.
While Joe concentrated on this maneuver, Captain Thibodeaux took a seat near the helm, and lit his pipe. He spoke for Joe’s ears alone.
“Richard never saw the day he could make six knots through Dry Rocks in a wind like we had today. I don’t know what shenanigans you two are about, Josephine Marie, but if you’re fool enough to take Richard’s place, I’ll expect you to keep your hat on and carry Richard’s share of the load. Is that clear?”
Joe swallowed hard. “Aye, aye, sir. Clear as a bell.”
A trace of a smile showed behind Thibodeaux’s beard and pipe as he rose to step away. “Your mama’ll kill you when you get home, I reckon. Don’t suppose you’d tell me where Richard has taken himself off to? Courting Caroline Lowe, maybe?”
“I don’t know exactly where he is this minute,” Joe answered truthfully.
~o~ ~o~ ~o~
Miles away, in the Gulf Stream, the English schooner had left Key West harbor behind and was making excellent headway under full sail toward the Bahamas. Aboard were four Conch boys on their way to join the Confederate Army.
~o~ ~o~ ~o~
On the streets of Key West, a patrol of Yankee soldiers made its way under the glaring mid-day sun toward Tift’s Wharf. Something atop one of the houses on Duval Street caught Sergeant Pfifer’s eye. “Shades of ‘Barbara Frietchie,’ she’s at it again!” the sergeant cried. “Come on!”
A gray-haired lady and her plumpish daughter sat on the wide front porch of the Lowe house, plying their knitting needles. The sergeant and his men trooped through the front gate, strode up the walk, climbed the porch steps, and proceeded directly to the front door. A black house servant, waiting inside the door, swung it open just before they could crash into it. The ladies on the porch took no notice of the procession.
“Mornin’, Miz Lowe. Miz Euphemie,” mumbled the sergeant in passing.
On the Lowe house rooftop, feisty Caroline Lowe stood next to an improvised flagpole wherefrom waved her homemade Confederate flag. She watched the soldiers disappear through the front door below her, headed her way. She began taking down the flag with practiced speed.
The sergeant led his men, huffing and puffing in their woolen blue jackets, up the interior stairs to the roof. “Today’s the day, Miss Caroline,” he muttered. “Today we’ve got you.”
Sergeant Pfifer and his men emerged onto the widow’s walk to find Caroline waving to an admiring Bogy Sands, who watched from the street below. No flag—and no place to hide a flag—anywhere in sight.
The sergeant looked at Caroline’s long, full skirt, but abandoned that idea for numerous reasons. He looked over the widow’s walk railing on all four sides. Nothing. He looked at empty-handed Bogy Sands in the street below. He gave up. He turned back and growled at his men in frustration, “Search the house!”
The men piled back downstairs, mumbling. One said, “We searched the house yesterday.”
“We’ll search it again today and every day until we find that blasted pennant! Good day, Miss Caroline.”
The lady answered with a thick ‘Brilander British accent, “Always a pleasure, Sergeant.”
~o~ ~o~ ~o~
It was nearly dusk in Key West harbor when the wrecking fleet returned, crowding the anchorage. All around, boats were made fast, and weary sailors headed homeward on foot.
Joe left the Lady Alyce and was greeted on shore by Joseph Porter. Together they turned and looked at the empty mooring where the English schooner had been that morning.
“They made it, Joe!” said Porter. “They got away clean.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Now comes the hard part.”
“Fightin’ the Yankees!”
“Telling my mother.”
End of Sample Chapter
of
MUDSILLS & MOONCUSSERS
by
Iris Chacon