Curse Of The Blue Tattoo Part 29

It was with great sorrow, though, that I learned that you have not gotten even one of the many letters that I have sent to you by way of the s.h.i.+ps of the Royal Navy that have come to this harbor. It fair broke my heart, it did, to know that you have not been a.s.sured of my love for you and have probably gone off into the arms of another by now. Alas, I have not gotten any letters from you, either, and that has been the hardest part of my life here, not knowing how you fare and if you think of my poor self, if at all.

I must now write of something that may distress you: In talking to Davy, he said that you said that you didn't get a letter when the Shannon docked there. Jaimy, I sent a letter on that very s.h.i.+p by way of a very kind and honorable officer who knew your address and promised me that you would get the letter. I know he was as good as his word. There's only one thing we can cipher from this: Someone in your house has not been pa.s.sing my letters on to you. I will not insult you by telling you who I think it is, but I think you will be able to figure it out. From now on I will send my letters to you on your s.h.i.+p direct.

Whoever has been reading my letters knows that I continue in my love for you in spite of your long silence. If you should want to write to me, please do it to the above address, as I don't know where I will be from one day to the next and I am sure that Mistress Pimm here at the school would not give me any of your letters, as she doesn't approve of sailors and she ain't given me any yet.

All that I have written of my life here has been lost and into it all again I cannot go, at least not now. Let it be enough to say that I am happy and have many new and dear friends, but I have been demoted to serving girl because I got in a bit of trouble. After I got busted down I sent you a letter saying if you didn't want me anymore because of that or anything else, then I was releasing you from your vow of marriage to me, which I here repeat again.

I am enclosing a miniature painting I did of myself in hopes that you might like to look at it sometimes. I have done one of you such as my poor memory and even poorer talent serve, and it hangs over my bed. Your ring rests close to my heart.

It filled my heart with hope to hear from Davy that you did talk fondly of me the last time he saw you. I am still your girl, if you still want me to be that.

With all my love, Jacky

Chapter 34.

I'm putting the finis.h.i.+ng touches on my miniature painting of Annie-one more little dab of blue right ... there. Good.

We set her up on a stool in the kitchen cause the light's better down there and she's sittin' there all blus.h.i.+n' in my blue dress that I made on the Dolphin, the one with the low front 'cause I copied it from the one Mrs. Roundtree was wearin' that day she set me straight on the facts of life-Mrs. Roundtree bein' one of the ladies on Palma, where we made our first liberty call, and copying my dress from hers, considerin' her particular profession, was prolly a mistake-well, what did I know, at the time?

I really think I got Annie pretty good: honey brown ringlets hanging by her cheeks, a ribbon in her hair matching the dress, her upturned nose all jaunty, and a saddle of light freckles over the blush of her cheeks. I'm right proud of this one and it is with a fiendish delight that I lean over my work and paint the bodice of the dress even lower than it actually is 'cause I know it'll drive that imp Davy stark raving mad with l.u.s.t when he's far away at sea. And with Annie havin' a lot more on top than me, I say let's make those parts extra plump and peachy, what's the harm?

"There," I says. I put the oval watch gla.s.s over the ivory disk and snap the frame down. Then I put Annie's braided lock of hair around the whole thing and bind it up with the blue ribbon. You really don't deserve this, Davy. Then I show it to Annie and the Sisterhood.

Squeals all around.

"Oh, do you think I should?" says Annie, crossing her arms over her chest, her face a comely shade of pink tending to the red.

"Oh yes," says Rachel, our oldest and wisest. "Oh yes, you will give it to him!"

"Better not let Father see that," warns Betsey.

"Believe me, he shan't," says Annie, looking at the thing in wonder.

"It's amazing," says Sylvie. "It looks just like her. I can't believe it." She hesitates and then asks, "Jacky, could you..."

"Of course, Sylvie," I say. "Let's drive Henry mad, too. Let's drive them all mad!" Shrieks and cheers from my Sisters.

Course this means I got to do all of them, but it's good practice for me and it delights them, so it is all for the good.

But if Annie hoped to spend time with Davy again this day, she is to be disappointed. As we're clearing the dishes at the noon dinner, I lift my head and c.o.c.k my ear and I hear, far off, the sound of s.h.i.+ps' bells and foghorns and trumpets, even, all coming from the harbor. Uh-oh... I take my tray of dirty dishes and put it on the cart in the hall and dash to the front door and peek out. I don't like what I hear and see.

"Something's up down at the docks," I say, as I rush back into the dining hall and take the wide-eyed Annie by the arm. "Come, up to the top."

We rush up to my room and I pull down the ladder to the widow's walk and up we go. I grab my spygla.s.s on the way and while she's viewing the scene with ohhs and aahs, I put the gla.s.s to my eye and train it on the three s.h.i.+ps down below. Sure enough, there's men running about in a hurry, doin' things that I know is done when s.h.i.+ps is about to get under way. The Guerriere is flying the commodore's flag and a line of flags is hauled up the masthead. Red square, then white square with blue X, then the numeral pennants: one, three, zero, zero. The other s.h.i.+ps answer with the same flags racing to their own mastheads: All s.h.i.+ps get under way at 1300 hours. For some reason known only to the Royal Navy, all sh.o.r.e leave is canceled and I can hear the seamen's complaint now: G.o.dd.a.m.n Captain prolly had a G.o.dd.a.m.n fight wi' his G.o.dd.a.m.n mistress ash.o.r.e and now I'm missin' me G.o.dd.a.m.n liberty, I am!

Davy will not set foot on the United States for quite a while yet, if ever.

d.a.m.n! And I ain't talked everything out of him yet!

I take the gla.s.s from my eye. "The fleet's leaving early. They'll be at sea by mid-afternoon."

She takes the news calmly. She drops her head and says, "Ah, well."

"Ah, well, nothing!" says I. "I will send my letter by him! Do you have your miniature?"

"Yes, it's here in my vest. I was going to give it to him today."

"Maybe you shall yet do it. Let's go!" and I lead the way back down, s.n.a.t.c.hing up my packet from my bedstead on our way through my room. Down the stairs to the first floor and then down into the kitchen. "Cover for us!" I yell as we go out the back door.

We run up to the stables and I take a bridle from the rack on the wall and I go into Gretchen's stall and put the bit in her mouth and slap the harness over her head and back her out of her stall.

"Surely a saddle, Jacky!" says Henry, coming upon us in our haste.

"No time, Henry! Open the barn doors!" I leap onto Gretchen's back and move her over to the hay crib, which has a side like a ladder. "Climb up here, Annie, and get on behind me! She can carry us both. Arms around me now and hold on!"

When I feel she's on, I give a "Hyah!" and dig my heels into Gretchen's sides and out we bolt from the stable and down the road we go. I've been riding long enough that my legs are strong enough to grasp the horse's sides without the need of stirrups, and I've tried it a couple times bareback so I know I can do it.

We get to a full-out gallop down through the Common and Annie's hangin' on so tight I can hardly breathe, but she's game and don't cry out and when we get to the street we hardly slow down at all and some people look up in alarm and some shake their fists at us for riding so fast through the town but I don't care, we've got to get there in time!

We're down School Street, and the boys and girls at the schoolyard there gaze in wonderment as two crazy girls on horseback thunder past them, and then it's on to Water Street and then a hard left on Kilby and then a right on State and then the cobblestones of the street give way to the planks of the pier and we're on Long Wharf, where the s.h.i.+ps are tied alongside.

There's last-minute provisions being taken on all three of the s.h.i.+ps, but the one on the end of the pier and closest to sea, the Java, was already pullin' in her gangway and startin' to throw off lines. The next one in line is Davy's s.h.i.+p, the Raleigh, and the final one, flying the commodore's flag, is the Guerriere. It will be the last to go.

I push Gretchen into the melee around the Raleigh's gangway and earn myself a few curses for my cheek. I'm lookin' around for Davy and I scan the riggin' but somehow don't think he's aboard yet, and I'm lookin' over the heads of the crowd on the pier and- "Jacky! Annie!"

I wheel Gretchen about and see Davy bounding toward us. As I suspected, he was ash.o.r.e when the call to return to s.h.i.+p went out and he waited till the last possible moment to go back aboard.

I throw my right leg over Gretchie's head and slide off and then I help Annie off and she slips down with a fine flash of petticoats.

I got to get my business done first 'cause Davy sure ain't got eyes for me. I hand him my packet and say, "Put your hand on your tattoo."

"Which one?" he says with a grin.

"Your Brotherhood tattoo, you ninny. I've no wish to see whatever else you've had st.i.tched on your nasty b.u.t.t," I huffs. He shrugs and puts his hand on the proper place.

"Now, swear, Davy, that you will try to deliver this to Jaimy and you will place it in no one's hand but his."

"All right, Jacky, I swear on my tattoo. I will do my best to get it to him."

"Thank you, Davy, and be careful of it. There is a miniature painting in there that's on ivory what can break, and make sure it don't get wet, neither, as they are watercolors and can run."

"All right, Jacky," he says, and turns to Annie.

They embrace and I turn around to give them what little privacy they can find on a crowded pier. I hear some whoops from the s.h.i.+p, and I know that Davy's reputation is being made. I wait, patting poor Gretchie, who's standing there snorting, her chest heaving like a bellows. Ain't you the best girl, then? Poor Gretchen, you had a lot easier life before I got here, didn't you? She nuzzles my cheek and forgives me.

"Here, Davy, is a token to remember me by," I hear Annie say with a slight quiver in her voice. "I think Jacky made me too pretty."

The show-off in me wants to turn around and see what he thinks of my work, but I don't have to, as I hear him draw in his breath sharply.

"No, no ... not too pretty at all. Not by half, dear Annie. Trust me, this will warm many a lonely night."

"Good-bye, Davy. G.o.d be with you. Be safe."

"Good-bye, Annie. I will write to you. I will be back."

I turn around and he has his hands on her shoulders and she has her arms around his waist.

Davy plants a final one on her forehead and they part and he lopes back to his s.h.i.+p. I did not think it would happen, but my chest tightens upon seeing Davy bound up the gangway, him lookin' again all gangly and boyish 'mid all that cruel machinery of war. He leaps up into the top to his station on the main royal yard, he raises his fist and shouts down, "Good-bye again, dear Annie, and good-bye to you, too, Jack! Bless the Navy and up with the Brotherhood forever!" I raise my fist in return.

The Sisterhood, too, I thinks, as I gathers up Annie and we ride at a much slower pace back to the school. We take a different route so we don't have to say, "Sorry" to anyone we might have run over on the way down.

We get back. We are not caught. I cover for Annie as she goes back up on the widow's walk to watch the s.h.i.+ps leave the harbor and put to sea.

Chapter 35.

Davy's gone and the fleet's gone and my letter's off and I guess things will settle back to normal, or as normal as things get around me. Sylvie and Henry are forever sneakin' off and moonin' and spoonin', and Annie heaves great sighs heavenward to the G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses of love.

I'm keeping busy doing miniatures of all the girls to make up for all the times I've said "Cover for me!" on my way out to some mischief. And I'll do a Henry for Sylvie and a Davy for Annie. And an Amy for Ezra. But I won't tell her who it's for, 'cause, as she always says, "I'm not ready for that sort of thing yet."

I take all my miniature paintings to Mr. Peet for his comments and he shows me where I've done right and where I've gone wrong and he gives me hints on how to do better. I keep up with my arithmetic and pa.s.s my homework sheet in to Mr. Sackett, who corrects it and hands it back, and I study French with Monsieur Bissell when he and I can find a moment.

It is such a moment when, having finished the morning ch.o.r.es, I find time to talk to Monsieur Bissell about some problems I've been having with the French language and we are both leaning over a desk and he's explainin' to me why the verb "to be" goes through so many twisted versions. "It's just like English, Jacky. In English we say, 'I am, you are, we have been, we are, he is, they are, we will have been, they...'"

There is a rustle of black silk and a coldness in the air, and I turn my head fearfully about. It is Mistress standing there.

"Is this part of your duties?" she demands, knowing very well the answer.

I stand and say, "No, Mistress."

"She is a good and willing student, Mistress," says Monsieur Bissell, gallantly.

"Thank you, Monsieur Bissell," says Mistress. "Faber, go to my office."

Oh Lord, I'm gonna get it now.

I follow her to her office and advance to the white line and put my toes on it and then flop down on the desk and pull up my skirts, feeling very sorry for myself. A tear works its way out of my eye and it goes across the bridge of my nose and falls to the blotter on Mistress's desktop. I breaks the rule about talkin' to her without bein' told to but I don't care, I'm just gonna get beat anyway. "I don't know why you want to hurt me so, Mistress, I really don't. I'm middlin' good. I do my work, I do, you won't find me s.h.i.+rkin' any of it." I sniffs. "I was just trying to learn."

I wait for the sting, but it does not come.

"Oh, do be quiet and stand up, girl," says Mistress. She sits down as I straighten up in confused relief. What?

She looks at me standin' there quiverin' for a while, and finally she says, "You thought, did you not, that I did not know what you were up to?"

What did she find out? The Pig? The singing, the dancing? Oh no...

"I d-don't know what you mean, Mistress," I quavers.

"You see, I know everything about my school. Everything," says Mistress. She has a pen in her hand and is tapping it on the edge of her desk. "For instance, I know that you have continued your studies, when, as a serving girl, you were not expected to do so." Tap ... tap ... tap.

"Yes, Mistress," I admits, hanging my head and looking contrite.

"And, furthermore, I know that you have been tutoring young Rebecca Adams." Tap ... tap. "Yes, Mistress."

She lets me stand there some more, wonderin' what she's gonna do with me. Tap ... tap.

"Actually, I find all that quite commendable," she says at last, and relief floods through me. "You will continue to help Miss Adams. Set aside an hour each day, as she needs it. She is too young to be here, I knew from the start, but it is hard to say no to Mr. Adams. I would send her back home, but her family is overseas on diplomatic duty. Do you think she can catch up on her studies?"

"Oh yes, Mistress," I say. "She is a bright girl. She is coming along nicely. She just needs some help and some kind words."

"Which you shall provide. I cannot have the other teachers give her individual instruction as it is not a profitable use of their time." Still she taps. Tap ... tap ... tap.

"Yes, Mistress, I will be pleased to do it."

Mistress continues to regard me. "So you see, do you not, that I know everything concerning my school?"

I think she is saying this with some satisfaction, almost smiling, in fact. And still ...tap ... tap.

I think, as I stand there waiting to be dismissed, on what she does not know about her school, or about me. I think back on what Ezra told me that last time in his office, about the Preacher closing in on me, and I decide to press my luck.

"Then you know, Mistress, that Preacher Mather has pet.i.tioned the Court to gain custody of me and my a.s.sets."

The tapping stops.

Although I am staring over the top of her head, eyes cased, as is my usual posture when standin' on the Line, I can see well enough that she did not know that. I go on.

"Please don't let him take me, Mistress. I don't want to go over there. I want to stay here. Please, Mistress."

Saying that, I feel my eyes get all hot and I think I'm going to cry 'cause I really meant what I said.

"Look at me, girl," says Mistress, and I drop my eyes to hers and I see the fury in them. I sense that she is outraged to the very marrow of her bones. "Tell me. Have you learned humility?"

"Yes, Mistress," I manage to say.