Joko (14 page)

Costerson ate heartily. It seemed to Johnny that the closer they came to getting on the boat, the more confident he became.

When Johnny had first met the man eight years before, he’d been impressed. Costerson was a nice guy, full of humor and ready to join in a joke. Johnny saw little of him in the day to day, but over the last few years he’d heard stories about people who worked with Costerson coming to bad ends – usually losing their jobs because, it was alleged, Costerson wasn’t doing his job.

Ned had worked with Costerson a long time and once told Johnny never to trust the man, but Johnny didn’t follow stuff like that. He dealt with people straight out, giving everybody the same chance. Johnny wasn’t the kind to be judgmental.

But everyone is susceptible to gossip, and Johnny was no exception. It didn’t take Johnny long to find out Costerson’s true nature.

Over dinner he listened to everything Costerson said, hoping to perceive some way to get around him. While Costerson didn’t act very smart, his mind was always turning things over. He had covered every avenue where Johnny might find an opportunity to free Jocko.

Johnny had to force himself to eat. Something inside told him that events were building to a climax, but he couldn’t imagine where or when. He knew he had to act soon to free the mountain-boy, because they would be leaving the port in under two hours.

Costerson wiped his mustache with a napkin, then glanced at his pocket watch. “Six p.m. We’d better get back to the cattle car, John. We sleep on the freighter tonight. Ever sleep on a ship?” Costerson studied Johnny.

“Can’t say I have,” Johnny said tersely.

“You’ll like it,” said Costerson, getting up. He dropped a coin by his plate and threw a wink at the waitress.

They walked the few blocks from the restaurant to the dock where the boxcar had been moved while they were dining. Though the sun was still high in the sky, the summer air had turned brisk and Johnny felt invigorated. If it wasn’t for the circumstances he might even have been having a good time.

They turned the corner and saw the Griffith docked at the end of the street. There seemed to be no activity aboard the ship, but some deck hands from the ship stood milling around in the street. Near them stood the freight car that held the sasquatch. Johnny noticed a partially covered iron cage sitting on a wheeled wagon near the boxcar. One of the men leaned against the wagon, smoking a pipe.

The scene gave Johnny a chill. As the moment of truth approached, he knew he was powerless to prevent Jocko’s being loaded into the hold of the freighter.

Costerson whispered to Johnny about Jocko going crazy when they stopped in Panama. “How’re we gonna keep him away from all the bananas?” He laughed.

Johnny stopped dead in his tracks and grabbed

Costerson by the arm. “This is where I get off, Costerson, unless you let me see Jocko, now!”

Costerson was caught off guard. He looked around at the men as though they were his special audience and laughed.

“I don’t see why you’re so worried about a dumb animal.”

“When I tell to Barnum how bad you’re treating him, you will,” snarled Johnny. “I’m his keeper. He trusts me. And he needs to know I’m here with him.”

“Fine, John. There’s no problem.” Costerson held up his hands to quiet Johnny. “We’ll talk about this later. Okay?”

“No! Later means aboard ship,” Johnny shouted. “I ain’t stepping foot on any boat until you let me see him.”

Suddenly the metal of the boxcar boomed.

“See?” said Johnny. “He’s getting upset!”

Costerson looked at the boxcar with wide eyes. He glanced at the men. “Okay, Johnny, whatever you say. Just calm down.”

Costerson went over to the men and asked them to stand by where they were. Then he unlocked the boxcar and slid the door open slowly, making sure that Jocko wasn’t about to leap out on him. When he saw it was safe he signaled Johnny to go inside. “Here, Tilbury. Now’s your chance.”

Without hesitating, Johnny climbed up on the freight car and crawled through the opened door. “Give me a lantern!” he demanded, reaching behind himself.

The smell inside the car was awful. Johnny got to his feet and walked over to Jocko. He reached out and took Jocko’s hand. “God, Jocko, I’m so sorry to have gotten you into this.”

Light suddenly spilled into the boxcar. Costerson put a lantern inside the car, then slid the door closed. Jocko was crouched in fear, dazzled by the light.

Now Johnny was able to see the conditions Jocko had been forced to endure since they left Yale. He grew furious when he saw that Jocko had to relieve himself where he was chained.

Johnny heard the wagon outside being rolled alongside the boxcar. Then he heard Costerson’s muffled voice tell the men to place a canvas covering over it. “If this animal gets upset, well, look out,” he warned them. “It can tear you apart with its bare hands.”

Johnny smiled at Jocko. “Hear that? They’re scared to death of you.”

Holding the lantern, he examined Jocko. Then he put the light down to one side and pulled Jocko to his feet. “You okay, Jocko?”

Jocko’s hand felt strange. It was caked with blood. “You’re hurt!” Johnny said angrily. But as he examined the wound on the sasquatch’s wrist, he saw it had already healed. A bloody shackle hanging from the post spoke volumes. Johnny looked back at Jocko’s hand and sighed. “Well, you seem okay, I guess. Lucky you heal up so fast.”

Johnny looked deeply into the sasquatch’s eyes and tried to explain the situation. He told Jocko he had wanted to free him but had found no opportunity during the train ride. He described the ship and explained as best he could how Jocko would be loaded aboard in a covered cage, then transferred to a room near the hold of the ship. There Johnny would visit him after he’d figured out an escape plan.

“You’re going to have to be real patient,” said Johnny.

Jocko considered the strange images that flooded from Johnny. He pictured a large object, like a house, that floated on water, and he saw himself riding deep inside it. He had no way of understanding the images, but he understood that Johnny wanted him to assist somehow in his own release.

“Trust me,” Johnny said. “We’ll get out of this. I promise.”

He took the key to Jocko’s shackles out of his pocket and freed his leg. Grateful, Jocko moved quickly from the place he’d spent the last two days. Instinctively, he pawed some loose straw over his filth as he stepped away.

Johnny banged on the door and shouted to Costerson;

“Okay, you can open the door.”

The door slid open to reveal an open cage. It was covered with canvas on all sides except the one covering the door.

There, it had been rolled up, revealing the interior of the cage.

Jocko touched the cage. Its rusted frame creaked under the pressure of his hand. An unfamiliar smell hit him. He scowled and sniffed the air a couple of times. He couldn’t see anything, so he decided the smell was from some former occupant of the cage. Cautiously he moved into the cage, as Johnny had instructed.

Johnny knew Jocko was strong enough to push the cage away from the door and escape right there and then. But he prayed that Jocko wouldn’t do that.

“In the cage, Jocko,” he said, pushing gently on his back.

“It’s okay.”

Jocko glanced back at Johnny. He looked worried.

“It’s okay! Just get in the cage,” repeated Johnny.

Finally Jocko moved inside and Johnny slid the door closed. He waited until he was sure Jocko was watching, then slowly and deliberately slid the latch into place. Jocko offered Johnny a toothy grin to let him know that he understood.

Then, smiling back at him, Johnny lowered the flap covering the cage door.

When the transfer was complete Johnny told Costerson, standing beside the wagon, that the ‘animal’ was secure. The crew then cautiously approached the wagon and, taking places on either side of it, began pushing it down the cobblestone street toward the ship. Johnny jumped to the street and tagged along behind wondering if Jocko had really understood his intentions.

He watched helplessly as the men attached the cart to a flimsy-looking crane and lifted it up to the open hatchway that led to the Griffith’s cargo hold. He and Costerson walked up the gangway to the main deck. To Johnny it was almost like accompanying a casket in a funeral. He looked back at the city of Port Coquitlan. Hills and mountains hung tantalizingly as a backdrop to the hazy skyline of the city. A curious mix of buildings and trees and lights stretched to the north as far as he could see.

Things could be worse
, he thought.
We could be dead
.

Once the cage was secure in the hold the men quickly left. Johnny watched as Costerson closed the door to the cargo hold.

“There,” said the agent. “That okay with you?”

Johnny nodded. “One more thing. Water and food. Get it now, before you do anything else.”

Costerson seemed more relaxed and amenable to

Johnny’s order. “Anything you say, Mr Tilbury. I want our prize to be fit when P.T. Barnum sees him.”

The ship came to life at about seven that evening. Costerson said they would leave with the tide. Johnny and Costerson walked down the oak paneled walkway that led towards the bow. Earlier he’d let Johnny bring vegetables and water to Jocko. He found the cage still covered and in spite of Costerson’s protests insisted the cover be removed. After a brief argument the man let Johnny have his way.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” said Costerson. “Soon we’ll be at sea. But the ape stays locked in the hold and out of sight.

That understood? Barnum insisted on it.”

Johnny nodded as he slipped vegetables through the bars of the cage and put a large pitcher of water within Jocko’s reach. Jocko took the pitcher and eagerly drank it, spilling most of it on himself and the dirty floor of the cage. Johnny promised to return with more, but he was careful to speak to the sasquatch as one might speak to a dumb animal. He purposefully avoided touching Jocko or showing solidarity with him, lest it arouse Costerson’s suspicions.

Once Johnny was satisfied that Jocko was okay, he and Costerson left the hold. The last thing Johnny saw of Jocko before the agent slammed the iron door was one sad eye regarding him through the bars of the cage.

When they arrived topside Costerson suggested they accept the captain’s offer to visit the bridge, where he introduced himself to the captain, then pointed to Johnny.

“And this is the animal’s keeper, John Tilbury.”

The captain was a thin man of about sixty. Although he was well dressed in his smart blue uniform, his tailor couldn’t compensate for a missing left arm. One sleeve of his jacket was folded and pinned neatly at the shoulder. “Captain Stanton Wayburn, at your service, sir,” he said to Costerson.

“Pleased to meet you.” His eyes moved to Johnny. “Welcome aboard. I trust Barnum’s animal is secure below?”

“Yes, sir,” ans wered Johnny politely. “He’s fine.”

“Our animal is secure in its cage, sir. I dare say he’ll remain so unless some of your crew gets curious and disturbs it.” Costerson smiled. “I must add, Captain, that Mr Barnum expressed his sincerest hopes that it be left undisturbed by your crew for the duration of the passage. Has that been communicated to you as well, Captain?”

Captain Wayburn stroked a large handlebar mustache and eyed Costerson for a moment. “I received a cable from a gentleman named Collins, containing the necessary documentation regarding your trip.” The captain paused for a moment to reflect on the situation, then he glanced at a large chart on the wall. “Our trip includes stops at many ports along the way. It’s quite a list. Keeping an animal that long … well, we usually carry no livestock. I’m surprised you and Mr Barnum didn’t arrange for passage by rail. Certainly that would have been a faster route.”

The captain paused for a moment, but when neither

Costerson nor Johnny offered any explanation, he continued:

“Our journey should take a couple of months. Due in Tampa Bay around the middle of September. We’ll have to discuss provisions for your animal, Mr Tilbury.” The captain looked at Johnny with a raised eyebrow.

Johnny nodded. “He eats vegetables, sir. Wasn’t that arranged?”

“Not really, Mr Tilbury. But that’s no problem. Provisions can be picked up anywhere.” He turned to Costerson. “If you don’t mind my pressing a point, sir, why
did
you choose the sea route?”

Costerson shook his head. “That decision was made by Mr Collins and Mr Barnum. We are merely couriers, you might say. I’m guessing it has to do with security.”

Unlike most people, Costerson was on firmest ground when he was making it up as he went along. Johnny decided that the bes t course of action was to agree with everything he said. Now that they were on the ship with Jocko safely below decks, Costerson might let down his guard. But Johnny now feared it wouldn’t matter if he did. He needed time to think.

While the captain and the railroad agent talked, Johnny excused himself and walked onto the bridge deck to survey the horizon. Some early stars floated above his head in a huge circle of deep blue sky, surrounded by a thickening haze and the glow of the port. To his left a crewman threw a mooring line to the dock. Then, as the first mate signaled the engine room, he felt the ship shudder as its steam engines came to life. Soon the ship began to inch away from the pier.

Johnny watched the details of the shore slowly vanish in the deep shadows of twilight. The ship moved along a deep channel, following the flow of the Fraser River. Occasionally a busy gas lit street would come into view, then disappear in darkness as the Griffith followed the shoreline. He leaned on the iron railing and watched the scene for a long time.

He estimated that it was after nine p.m. when they moved into open waters east of Vancouver Island. Feeling chilled by the night air, Johnny went back inside the bridge. The captain and Costerson had left for places unknown, leaving the first officer at the helm. Johnny introduced himself and asked if he could stay on the bridge for a while. The man smiled and said he was First Mate Charles Boswell and although it was against regulations to have civilians stay on the bridge, he could use the company. “I’m sure the cappy won’t mind you being here, John, as long as you stay out of the way. I need to see.”