Curse Of The Blue Tattoo Part 11

Miss Jacky Faber

The Lawson Peabody School for Young Girls

Beacon Street, Boston, Ma.s.sachusetts, United States

My Dearest Jacky, I hope this letter finds you well and that you are benefiting from your studies at your new school. Although I miss you terribly, I must say that I find comfort in knowing that you are now safely in the refined company of other girls and not that of rough seamen. I have no doubt that you are receiving excellent guidance and are growing into the refined young lady I know you will become. I am sure you have made many lasting friends among the other young ladies. I find I like thinking of you being among your new friends and gus.h.i.+ng merrily about girlish things.

We arrived in port yesterday and I was able to take a coach to London. We had a great joyous family reunion, with all members being found healthy and well. I regaled them with tales of our adventures and I could not stop talking about you, dearest girl. I have informed my parents of our intent to wed. I have told them all (almost all) about you, and Father is most approving. Mother withholds judgment, which is not surprising considering your recent way of life, but I know you will win her over instantly with your simple charm and grace.

Please excuse the brevity of this letter, as I want to get it off as quickly as I can because-great good luck-the Reliance is leaving today bound for Boston. I have heard she is a fast frigate so you should receive this in under a months time. Unheard-of speed!

I know that it is too soon to be hoping to get a letter from you, dear Jacky, but still I hope. I know, too, that you'll excuse my poor, stiff prose-I am not good with a pen. Forgive me and know that I send this with all my love. I am Your most obedient & devoted servant, Jaimy

Chapter 11.

Long before the dawn comes in my window, there is a gentle knock on my door and a voice whispering loudly, "Miss. I'm sorry, but it's time for you to get up."

I mumble, "All right," and pile out of bed, the events of the days before pouring in on my mind like a huge bad dream and I..."Wait. Please wait till I get dressed 'cause I don't know what to do and someone's got to show me. Please come in." I push down the urge to cry and I splash water on my face to hide any tears that might want to come and I start to put on my clothes.

The girl Annie opens the door and comes in and sees me fumbling with my new gear. "Here. Put the blouse on first," she says, picking it up and handing it to me. I slip it over my head. "Now the skirt. The weskit straps go over your shoulders and it tucks into here and goes over the bottom part of the blouse and laces up the front. Take a breath while I cinch it up. There." She pauses in her instructions and then says, "I'm sorry, Miss, that you..."

"It's not Miss anymore, Annie, it's Tacky, and don't be sorry. It's n.o.body's fault but mine." I run my brush through my hair. "Do we have time to braid my pigtail?"

"We have time. Peg knew you'd need some time getting used to things so she sent me up early." She takes my hair, separates it deftly into three parts, and then braids it up with brisk efficiency. I had been wearing my hair tied up loose with ringlets hanging by my face like the other girls, but now that I'm downstairs and no longer a lady-in-training, I figure I'd better put it back in working trim. This new outfit feels trim, too. The weskit clutching my lower ribs puts me in mind of Charlie's old blue vest I used to wear on the s.h.i.+p to hide the fact that I was a girl. 'Cept this vest only covers up my lower ribs, leavin' my chest free to roam under the soft white s.h.i.+rt. Not that there's that much of me to bounce about under there, but still it's more comfortable this way, rather than being mashed down like I had to keep it when I was a boy on the s.h.i.+p. This skirt only comes down to mid-calf, so it'll be easier to get around in.

"This ain't a bad rig," I says, pullin' the bottom of the weskit down over the waist of the skirt.

"It isn't exactly the highest style," says Annie with a bright smile, "but if Mistress wants to dress us up as milkmaids, well, it's her school."

"What do we do first?" I ask, as I sit back on the bed to pull on my stockings.

"First we bring up the water and fill the pitchers in the ladies' privy and set the table for their breakfast, and then we ring the bell to get them up and while they're getting dressed and ready we eat our breakfast, and then one of us plays the chimes to call them to their breakfast. Some of us help Peg cook the breakfast and some serve it, and some of us come up and clean the privy and make the beds. And that's just for starters." She pauses and comes around the bed. "And speaking of beds, we should make yours. If Mistress comes up and sees it unmade you'll catch it."

"Thanks for looking out for me, Annie. You've done that since the first day I got here and I won't forget it."

Annie and I creep down the stairs and we meet the others coming up the stairs with buckets of steaming water, and I see that Betsey has one in each hand so I reach over and take one of them and we all walk silently through the hall of sleeping girls to the privy. We dump the water out of the pitchers and fill them with warm water and gather up all the used towels and washrags and clean up the basins a bit and then heads back out. When we're all out of the dormitory, Rachel, the oldest of the serving girls, rings the bell hanging outside the door and I hear groans from the ladies within.

"That's my favorite thing to do in this place-wakin' up the little darlings," whispers Rachel. The first light of dawn is beginning to show in the windows and I can see Rachel's toothy white smile s.h.i.+ning in the gloom.

We all go down the stairs into the kitchen where the veil of silence is suddenly lifted and everyone's talking and laughing and there's a great banging of pots and pans and hissing of steam and there's Peg standing at the stove working the spatula on a griddle of eggs and bacon and Peg turns 'round and points the spatula at me and says, "This here's Jacky and she'll be joinin' our merry band! Make her welcome!"

And they do. They all plop down at a long table and Annie pats the place next to her and I sit there, and Betsey goes to the stove and gets plates of eggs and bacon and toast and puts a plate before each of us, and the girl Rachel pours the tea and I figures that they take turns in this duty so that they'll all be served like ladies some of the time.

"That's Rachel, who's going to be married in the spring," says Annie, nodding toward Rachel who is now blus.h.i.+ng 'cause some of the other girls have got off some rude comments at the mention of her upcoming marriage. She looks to be about eighteen. "And that's my sister, Betsey, there. And that's Abby and that's Sylvie."

All the girls nod and smile at the mention of their names. I, of course, already knew their names, but still I nod and smile at the mention of each. Annie's got hair that's close to mine in color but more curly, and her sister has the same, but while Annie's got a broad nose with a saddle of freckles on it and a generous mouth and wide-set brown eyes, Betsey's nose is sharp and her mouth is small and prim and her eyes are blue. They still look like sisters, though, and it's plain they have great affection for each other.

Abby's a round-faced girl with a large chest and a mop of red hair and the devil in her eye, and then there's Sylvie, small and dark and quiet, and very shy.

We dive into breakfast and it is very good. It is a strange thing, but no calamity ever seems to be big enough to put a dent in my appet.i.te. As I'm tucking it away, I notice them all looking at me. With my teeth in a piece of toast I raise my eyebrows in question.

"Well, that's us," says Abby, "but what about you?"

"Oh," I say, and leave off packing it in for a bit. I dab my mouth with my napkin. "Well, I know you all saw that I got in a bit of trouble. I saw your faces pressed to the windows when I was brought back. You can't deny it."

They all look a bit sheepish at that, as they know it's true, but I says, "I don't blame you for it 'cause my face would've been pressed up there, too, if the situation was reversed. The truth of the matter is that I got arrested for singing and dancing in the street and the showing of my bare left knee in the performance of it, and I was taken to court and convicted, and Mistress didn't take it kindly at all and said that I'd brought disgrace to her school and I didn't belong upstairs and here I am." And, I say to myself, if you shun me, too, then I shall run out of this room and grab my seabag and be gone.

But they don't. They just laugh and giggle and say that there's got to be more than that to the story and let's have it, Jacky, but Peg up and says, "Let's finish up, girls, it's time to feed our ladies. There's plenty of time for tellin' lies later. Let's go. Annie, Betsey, and Rachel, to the serving. Let's get those trays loaded up. Jacky, Sylvie, and Abby, to the beds and privy. All back afterwards for the scrubbin' up."

That night, while I lay curled up in a ball under the covers on my bed, I thought long and hard about what I was going to do. I had thought about running away and maybe picking up some money playing in the taverns till I got enough to get back to England and Jaimy, but I saw yesterday just how far my pennywhistle took me, which was straight to jail, and besides I wouldn't have no place to stay and winter's coming on and Amy says winters are fierce around here. Or rather Miss Trevelyne says that. I must remember my place.

No, I must stay here for now, at least till spring, where I have warm lodging and some protection. I will go see Mr. Pickering as soon as I can to tell him that I want him to try really hard to get me my money back. Get it back before it is claimed by some man as my dowry. I s.h.i.+vered at that thought-I will run away if that happens.

I will look around for other employment or other opportunities that might present themselves. Who knows? Something might turn up before spring.

I will stay here and I will endure my shame. They will not see me cry. I will not whine and I will not complain. I know there is much to be learned downstairs and I will learn it and I know I will profit by it. I will continue with my former studies as best I can.

I will stay here and I will be the best chambermaid that I can be.

PART II.

Chapter 12.

Peg was right. It ain't so bad downstairs. Oh, the first couple of days was horrible with me in an agony of humiliation and all my former cla.s.smates staring at me, some with pity, some with delight. But I got through it.

The good Peg kept me close to her for a while so's I could get used to things as they were now. I mainly made beds and cleaned the privy and hauled the chamber pots out to the cesspool in back, and that was rough till I learned to hold my breath when I was opening the cesspool hatch and pouring in the pots. The first time I did it I almost fainted with the stench, but I learned how to do it. There's a science to everything.

But there had to come a time when I had to go up and face things upstairs, and one day when Abby was out sick Peg says, "Dinner served by Betsey, Sylvie, and Jacky. Show her how to do it."

But I already know: Serve from the right, take from the left.

We stride briskly into the dining hall, pus.h.i.+ng our carts of steaming food. I can feel their eyes on me and I put on my mask of stony indifference, which I'm sure fools no one, and I pick up a tray of sliced meat and head directly for Amy's table, where, sure enough, she is sitting alone. I come up to her right side and present the platter.

She glowers up at me. She seems thinner and more pale than last I saw her and she says, "This is not fair."

"Please, Miss. Take some. You must eat."

"No," she says, and tosses her fork in her plate. "It is not fair."

I don't know what to say to this. I straighten up and take my tray to another table where Martha and Dolley are sitting with some others, and I serve Martha and she gives me a smile and a wink and I wait on Dolley, who gives my arm a pat and tells me everything's gonna work out fine someday, and it warms me so to see them being so kind that I start to get misty, but then it's on to Clarissa's table and I ain't misty no more. Betsey tries to get to Clarissa first 'cause all the girls know how things lie between Clarissa and me, but Clarissa waves her away.

"I prefer the offerings on that platter," says Clarissa, looking at me in her lazy way, her enjoyment at my disgrace plain upon her face, her Look saying it all.

I keep my eyes on my platter and bring it up on her right side. Clarissa takes up the tongs and picks up a piece of meat but lets it slip before it gets to her plate such that it falls on my foot. I look down to see the meat slide to the floor and the gravy from it slip down into my shoe.

"Oh," says Clarissa, "how clumsy of you. You really must hold the tray steady. I'm sure you'll clean that up immediately, won't you?"

"Yes, Miss," I say, and I'm wantin' to dump the whole tray over her head but I'm sure I'd be taken back to court for a.s.saulting a real lady with a tray of meat if I did, giving Wiggins the excuse he needs to lay his rod upon my back, so I don't. What I do is take my tray back to the cart and take a napkin and go back to the table and kneel down and clean up the mess. Then I go back to the cart and take a tray of vegetables and resume serving.

It's bad, but not so bad that I can't stand it.

Later, when we're back in the kitchen, I'm put in a chair and a cup of tea is put in my hand and my shoe is taken off and cleaned and a wet cloth is put to my stocking to clean off the gravy and Rachel says, "Don't you worry, Tacky, that one's gonna get it some day, and I hope I'm there to see it!"

"From the amount of curses you all have already laid on that one's head, well, one of them's bound to take, sooner or later," says Peg, which gets a laugh from all, even me.

Peg fusses over me a bit and then says, "Go over and feed some apples to that nag you love so much. Be back in time to help with supper."

Good, good Peg, I thinks. Bless you for giving me this bit of time. You miss very little in this world that you rule so kindly.

Over at the stables I put an apple in the palm of my hand and Gretchen takes it oh-so-gentle and I bury my face in her silken mane and it soothes and gentles my mind. I stay there like that for a long time.

After a while I hear Henry come into the stall and I lift my head to see that he has brought in a saddle, which he throws on Gretchen's back.

"Here, Miss, take her for a ride. Just walk about the fields a bit. It will make you feel better, I know it will." He cinches her up and hands me the reins.

I take them from him and place my hand on his and say, "Thank you, Henry. But now you must call me Jacky, for I am no longer a lady." I put my foot in the stirrup and climb aboard.

"All right, Jacky. I will call you that if you want, but you will always be a lady to me, no matter what."

"But why?" I say. "I sure ain't acted like one."

"It's for how you treated a stableboy when you were one of The Ladies, is why," he says, and he leads Gretchen and me out into the light.

J. Faber

General Delivery

U.S. Post Office

Boston, Ma.s.sachusetts, USA

October 5, 1803

James Emerson Fletcher

Number 9 Brattle Lane