"I've only known for about two weeks. And we haven't been anything," says Jaimy. "So remember, you are forsworn, Davy. Don't even tell Tink. He's in no shape for keeping secrets."
I squirm around and let my leg slip over Jaimy and take a deep, deep breath, then let it out oh-so-slowly as a deep sigh of contentment, and I nuzzle Jaimy's ear with my nose and say all sleepily, "David, do you mind? I'm not quite dressed."
Davy lets fly an oath and storms out of the hold. We hear his fist hit the wall as he leaves.
"You really are evil, you know," says Jaimy.
"I know," I murmurs. "I shall have to pay."
***
The beach encampment has already been laid out by the time Jaimy and I emerge blinking into the sun. There's a steep list on the ship now that it's fully heeled over on the sandy bottom, and it ain't too comfortable for doin' much of anything 'cept swingin' in a hammock. There's tents been put up to shelter the sick bay, which has been moved out of the ship, and the kitchen has been set up and there's cauldrons steaming and gruel cooking and smelling right good. There's tables, even. I realize, a little guiltily, that some people were working while we slumbered on. Do I really feel guilty, though? Nah. I feel wonderful.
We go over to see Tink and he's all gray and tired looking, but he's cheerful and his wound looks better, if rather grisly. We go to get something to eat and we meet Davy on the way and he joins us but can't stop staring at me till we threaten to hurt him, so he stops, but every now and then he blurts out something like, "In the netting! That's why you wouldn't go splashin' in the swells no more!"
"That's right," says I, shovelling in a spoonful of the heavenly swill. "But you were all ever so interesting." That gets me an elbow from Jaimy.
This mush gets better every day. I think there's some peas in this batch.
"And the oath of the Brotherhood," says Davy, pointing at me, "wasn't there something in there about sharin'?''
"It doesn't work that way, Davy," says Jaimy, with a warning in his tone.
I let them fight on. It's nice to have someone else bickering with Davy for a change. Being a girl now, at least between the three of us, sets me above the battle. The serene goddess Jacky beams her happiness all around. The sun is warm, and it's so strange to be on land again and so good not to be dead and rolling about on the bottom of the sea.
Liam comes by and sits down with his bowl and that stops Davy's ravings. We find out from Liam that the island has no people on it. It is about seven miles long, half a mile wide, and, while it does have some fresh water and some scrubby trees, there is absolutely no wood worthy of the name. There are many palm trees, but their wood is all mushy and won't do.
It's been decided that planks from the Dolphin's deck will be pulled off to build a small boat that will carry a party of men to go off to get help and supplies. Sailors have been sent up with glasses to the tops of the tallest coconut trees to see if they can spot any land, but no luck, so the boat will just have to strike off blindly to the west, where we know the continent lies, somewhere. It could be twenty miles away, just over the horizon, or it could be a hundred miles off. Maybe two. Work has already begun on the boat. We can hear the hammers and saws.
"And there's sure to be a ship's boy or two in that very boat," says Liam, merrily. We all know the story. Ha-ha. Very funny.
"I volunteer Jaimy," says Davy with a twinkly look at me. "He's the one what wants to be a midshipman and needs to be off studying small boat handlin'. Jacky and me'll take care of things around here."
I spread evil looks all around.
We hear from Liam that most of the men are setting up kips onshore for the long wait for repair or rescue. The carpenter and his crew will be at least two weeks building the boat. Jaimy and I exchange quick glances.
"We'll be havin' the wake for Lafferty and Grant tonight," says Liam, looking at me. I nod and say that I'll be there. Five more of the wounded have died since the battle. At least they're to be buried on land, which is good because sailors really don't like to be buried at sea.
We leave the mess tent and walk up the beach, the sand warm and soft beneath our feet. We mean to look up Tilly and report for duty, and after that, maybe set up our own kip in a nice cozy little spot. Dark it will be, with soft boughs for a bed. And far away from the others. I notice that Davy hangs back.
"Davy, get up here and walk beside us," I warns hotly. "I know what you're doing back there." I should smack him.
Tilly is in a state of high scientific excitement. He takes us about, pointing out edible plants and fruits and nuts and clams and such, and I'm thinking I'll be sticking to my usual salt pork and weevily biscuit, thank you. I'm looking off into the bush, thinking secluded bowers, soft boughs and all, while he rattles on.
I put up with the lecture, but really I'm hoping he'll get done soon so Jaimy and I can go off exploring and such, but it is not to be. Oh no, it is not ever to be. Tilly's scientific blather was all just a ruse to get me to go uncomplaining to my sorry fate. As we go around a stand of small trees Tilly's hand clamps around my arm so I can't run away and there it is: The horror. Staked to the ground, shakin' in the wind like a live thing strainin' against its leash. The end of all my joy.
The Kite.
Aw, Tilly, you couldn't give me one day, could you, just one day of happiness before you have to take me up and kill me in your stupid machine? I know I was wicked and I know that every time I get happy and sassy I end up getting thumped, hut this is beyond all reason and III be a good girl from now on, I promise.
But I know it's useless to hope. Instead of having a romp with Jaimy in the bushes, I'm to be executed for my crimes. This ain't exactly like a hangin', but it's damned close.
There's a huge pile of nasty coiled rope next to the hated kite, each loop looking like a noose. Men are beginning to gather to handle the line, and callin' up the beach for more help. Three of them lift up the kite to hold it in position while the line is played out. I look wildly about. I am trapped, there is no escape, none. I am doomed.
A crowd is gathering to watch the spectacle.
Jaimy begins to protest for me.
"Nonsense, James," says Tilly. "My flying machine is perfectly safe and thoroughly tested. We have the proper breeze and direction. We can send Faber up with a glass and he'll be able to spot any land that's out there. He'll be much higher than the trees, higher even than the masts on our poor ship. After he's had a look, we'll haul him back down and he'll brag on his flight for the rest of his life."
I've got a sick feelin' in the pit o' me belly and think I'm goin' to lose me breakfast.
"Beggin' your pardon, Mr. Tilden," I croaks out, "but what happened to that man what went up in the kite at that Exposition last year?"
Tilly shakes his head and tut-tuts. "He was a condemned criminal, anyway, so it didn't matter. Besides, my kite is superior."
"Jaimy, you may have me shiv and Davy me seabag and Tink can have me clothes and me Last Will is in me vest if you recover me body. And here, Liam, take back your whistle..."
My whistle is on a thong around me neck and I goes to lift it off to give it to Liam, who's lookin' at me with fatherly concern, but I know he can't do nothin', and he knows it, too. Tilly stops me from dolin' out me worldly goods and pushes me into the harness.
"Put that stuff away and stop with all this twaddle. It's perfectly safe. Look, the end of the rope is tied to that tree. You're going out over the water so you'll have a soft landing if anything happens. But what could happen? In you go, now."
They're strappin' me in tight, one strap across me chest and another across me h*ps and a strap around each thigh and up over me crotch to connect up with the hip one, when the crowd parts and the Captain and First Mate walk up. Captain Locke says all hearty, "Well, Faber, all your good work hanging about the rigging on the ship has certainly paid off as you are certainly not afraid of heights. We saw that amply displayed yesterday, didn't we, Mr. Haywood."
"That we did, Sir. Faber has shown himself to be most brave in all our encounters with the enemy and with nature."
Even in the fog of my despair, I am amazed at this. Mr. Haywood sayin' that about me?
"This will hold you in good stead now, I reckon," says the Captain, looking at the fiendish kite with approval.
A spyglass has been fitted with a strap and it's hung around my neck. Hands are placed on the rope.
"And, Faber," continues the Captain, all beaming in his countenance, "when next you touch the ground, it shall be as Midshipman Jack Faber."
My feet leave the ground.
The group onshore gets smaller and smaller as I am lifted up. The ship itself becomes toylike down there in the blue-green lagoon with all the palm trees around. All I see of Jaimy is his uplifted face gettin' smaller and smaller, and I make that image stay in my mind cause that might be the last time I ever see it.
I know I was bad and careless and cheeky with Davy, but the swiftness of the punishment leaves me astounded. One minute I'm planning a bit of a frolic with Jaimy and the next I'm aloft with only the regret of my free and wanton ways for company.
They seem to have gotten to the end of the rope. I peer down and see that the ants below seem to be relaxing, not even holding on. I guess they trust the tree to which the rope is tied. I hope they are right.
Well, since I'm up here and not yet dead, I should do my duty. I lift up the glass and scan the horizon. I can only see three quarters of it 'cause I can't see behind me and there ain't nothin' on the horizon in the part I can see.
I wiggle around and try to see out to the west but the straps cut most cruelly and I can't ... quite ... get around.
I do manage a bit more but not enough. I bring up the glass and ... maybe there's something there? I yell out, "Hey!" but all of a sudden the kite lurches up in a strong gust of wind. It scares me but I figure it'll give me a few more feet of height so I look again but, no, nothing.
Another gust and this time it gives a real jerk and I gasp and train the glass down on the beach. All the men are back on the line again and there seems to be a certain unsettlin' panic to their movements. I lift the glass a little higher and see that the rope is pulling the tree out by its roots and the roots come out all white and ghostly and the sand falls quickly off them. Another great gust. That's it, then, I say to myself, as I watch the tree pull free and the men are dragged toward the shore, falling off, one by one.
Then the tree itself is lifted in the air. It doesn't even touch the water. I'd like to think that Jaimy is the last one to let go.
That's it for me, then. There will be no boat to come get me when at last I settle into the sea.
That's it for me.
Chapter 37
So farewell light
And sunshine bright
And all beneath the sky...
Strange that I should think of that lyric from a song about a man who's going to be hanged, which is what I always feared the most and was sure was going to happen to me, and now I'm to be drowned instead. I remember back to when I first skipped on board, thinking as how a girl what's meant for hangin' ain't likely to be drowned. Well, here I am. It looks like a deep swallow of the salt rather than the jerk of the hemp for me. Cold comfort. Same throat what gets it, seawater or rope.