I turned to see who had kicked me. I said, “We are being held by hideous, pitiless gargoyles that are not decent enough to speak the queen’s English.” The man felt nothing of my reproof, though, and kept on watching over our heads toward the ship in the bay.
CHAPTER 2
October 1, 1729
Tidewater receded and the galleon listed, her foredeck thrust upward in the morning light, masts angled against the sky. Indeed, someone on board may have been surprised by the great uplifting, for even I could have told the pilot not to moor her so close. I had seen ships careened before but this one looked in danger of tumbling over. The coral at that place is so near the top that at low tide August goes there with Pa and standing waist deep they fish with gigs for my favorite lovely white-meated fishes.
From the deck, men tossed ropes thick as stumps and climbed down the treacherous rigging, some getting into smaller boats, some just hanging there at the side of the ship. A few stood in the water on the shoal. Soon the sounds of scraping and banging filled the air as barnacles flew off the hull. One man made excited motions with his arms and pointed to the water nearby. Several of them shouted something like “Oh-ho!” just as one of the working men fell into the water. I saw his knife rise in the air. He struggled and fought near the fin of a shark. He had met his fate.
As the tide went out they worked on and on, and the day grew warm. I slept, leaning against Patey, and I dreamed of lying in a hammock full with comfits and warm bread. Eating sausages in cream.
As I began to taste the sweets I awoke. Patience had tears running down her face. She stared into the distance, so I followed her gaze to the ruins of our house. I marveled that there were girls seated nearby, no taller than I whom I had never seen before, but there were always whole groups of people we did not house living in the brush shacks and cane brakes, besides those we did. I supposed I should feel sad. Or afraid. All I felt was hunger gnawing at my insides. Ma might have brought something if she had had a chance, but then we were not here for a picnic. The African slaves next to us seemed almost nonchalant about being held as we were. These brutes saw all of us as nothing more than booty. The image of sausages came back to mind a few minutes later and made my mouth water. I could have eaten sausages, even without a proper dish.
In the bright sun, Patience’s skin was sure to freckle. Oh, la, I thought. She had hair of deep auburn, given to waves; she was always brushing and fixing it with combs. Mine was a mix of red hues with yellow, and quite curly, so that when it was clean and brushed into finger curls, it seemed at times like faded pink roses. Sometimes Pa called me his “old rose,” and said to me to never forget who I was. I did not know at the time what he meant by it. Then, I only thought my face was already feeling the sun. My lashes and brows were almost invisible, compared to Patey’s nice brown ones. Her skin was whiter than milk and when she blushed it seemed wine had infused the milky satin. My skin freckled despite the various bonnets and hats I wore. I rubbed my face with milk and honey each day. My eyes were pale, the color of a shallow pool, so that all my features seemed quite plain and faded in appearance.
The tide turned and the scraping of the hull finished. A man came to us and hoisted Patience to her feet, compelling me to follow, prodding others behind me. He pointed to the shallop, and when I paused at its edge, he lifted me up without so much as a by-your-leave, and dropped me into it. They made me sit in the reeking damp hull. Some other girl wearing rags far inferior to my gown, soiled though it was, sat upon me as if I were a cushion, perched upon my drawn-up knees. She looked down upon me and made a noise, wrinkling her nose. “Ach. Ye be ’ant so fine now, Mistress.”
I recognized the accent more than the face. One of the red-haired Irish slaves bought out of the gallows, as Pa would say. Uncle Rafe always added that it proved more merciful to work them to death than to pile their corpses in the lochs. If I could have moved, I would have found that needle under my skirt and poked her right in her so high-and-mighty rump. I jerked my knees and hoped the bones gave her a poor chair.
The tide began to rise. Four men rowed us nearer the ship. As we reached the reef’s edge, that hulk righted itself in the bay with a loud creak and a rush of wake that raised our smaller craft by two feet so that the rowers had to fight to keep from circling. I knew that once Pa came by, he would help us find Ma. Patience sat upon a seat at my back, and I said to her, “Can you see Ma from there?”