The Deepest Waters, A Novel (19 page)

Laura sat on a bench against a wall of lapboard siding, just a few yards down from the back door of the steamship office. The reporters still huddled about, but they’d shifted their focus from the steamship management to the passengers.

The ones who had family waiting.

They called out as the survivors passed by like shameless carnival hawkers. Some flashed cash, promising more for an exclusive story. A few of the women had been drawn in, but most wanted no part of it.

Laura just ignored them. She sat alone on the bench, waiting. For what, she wasn’t sure. An idea that might break through the muddle in her mind. Perhaps a single thought that made any sense.

Twenty minutes ago, when she’d climbed down the gangway, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in a few panes of glass. It startled her. She hadn’t bathed in almost a week. Her hair was ragged and matted. She looked like a washerwoman at the end of a long day. It had been easy to lose track of things on a ship filled with women who looked much the same. But seeing all the women in the waiting area, the way they looked at her . . . maybe it was a good thing John’s family wasn’t there to greet her.

“Laura?”

She looked up. It was Melissa.

“Are you waiting for John’s family?”

How is it that she looked so beautiful? She hadn’t bathed either. Was it the smile, the joy in her eyes? Laura shook her head no. She wasn’t waiting for John’s family.

“I want you to meet Tom.”

That’s right,
her Tom
.

Stepping out from behind Melissa, Laura looked up into the face of a tall, well-dressed young man with bright blue eyes. He removed his hat, revealing a full head of dark hair. He reached out his hand. “How do you do?”

She shook it gently. But she felt so embarrassed at her appearance. “Melissa has told me so much about you,” she said politely.

“Then you must know what a coward I was to have ever let her go.” He looked down at Melissa with adoring eyes and reached for her hand. “But that won’t ever happen again.”

How nice.

Stop it, she scolded herself. It was nice, for them. But she just wanted to be left alone. How could she get that message across?

Melissa sat beside her. “I don’t understand. If you aren’t waiting for John’s family, then . . .”

“They aren’t coming,” Laura said, “because they don’t know I exist.”

“What?”

“They don’t . . . they don’t know—” Laura couldn’t go on. She buried her face in her hands and cried.

“You poor dear,” Melissa said, rubbing her back. “I’m so sorry.”

After a few minutes, Laura regained her composure and told them about John’s note.

“But surely they will want to meet you,” Tom said. “Once they know.”

“I’m not sure of that at all. John wasn’t sure. That’s why he hid this from me.”

“But that was before he—” Tom stopped.

“Before he died.” Laura finished his thought. “But it doesn’t change anything. He wrote the note thinking he might. And still, he wondered if they’d reject me once we met. I’ve been piecing together other things he said. I think his family is very wealthy, in a much higher social class than me. If I met them now, and it doesn’t go well . . . I can’t bear any more pain. I just can’t.” She began to cry again.

“It’s all right, Laura,” said Melissa.

“I know of the Fosters,” said Tom. “A little. And they are very wealthy, several rungs up the ladder from my family in Philadelphia. But I don’t believe they’d turn you away. Especially now.”

Laura looked up. “I can’t do it.”

“Here, I’m sorry,” he said kindly, handing her his handkerchief. “I’m not trying to pressure you, really I’m not. But people like the Fosters, of all things, they care about perceptions. Some of their parties have even appeared in our society pages. Even if they didn’t want to, they would still treat you well.”

Melissa shot him a look that said: I can’t believe you said that.

Tom’s return look showed he had no idea what her look meant.

Laura said, “Thank you both for trying to help me. Honestly, I am grateful. But I think I’m just going to sit here awhile longer. I don’t have the strength to face them. I don’t want to bother John’s family or make their lives difficult. I’m so tired. I just want to sit here awhile.”

For a few moments, no one said a thing.

Melissa finally said, “Laura, I don’t feel right just leaving you here. Tom’s been staying in a fine hotel just down the street. We’re going there now, then we’ll head home in the morning.”

“I’ve rented a carriage,” Tom said. “We’d be happy to drive you.”

“You could take a bath,” Melissa said. “A hot one. Sleep in a nice bed.”

Laura couldn’t help it. A bath. It made her smile.

Melissa stood up. “Come, Laura. Let us take you there.”

“It’s the least we could do,” Tom said.

Laura stood up. “It does sound nice. I think I’d like that.”

“Get him out of there,” said Captain Meade.

Ayden Maul decided not to resist as two crewmen dragged him from his bunk. What was the point? But every twist and turn stung like bee stings, every time his shirt made contact with the wounds from the lash. He squinted as they dragged him out to the main deck. He hadn’t seen the sun in two days.

“Take him to the gangway,” the captain said.

“Would you please untie me?” Maul said.

The captain stood less than a foot from his face. The two crewmen were on either side, holding his arms. “I have half a mind to deliver you over to the police. But with all these reporters hanging around, I don’t want to take a chance they’ll make you a part of their story and badger these poor women further. Untie him.”

The crewmen obeyed.

“I want you off my ship and off this dock. Don’t even think about trying to get a job sailing out of here. I plan to spread the word throughout the harbor. No one will hire a thief.”

The crewmen walked him to the edge of the gangway and gave him a shove.

Maul hurried down and didn’t look back. He was ready to be free of this ship and its worthless crew. He looked up ahead toward the steamship office building.

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

Walking away just now was that Foster woman, the lady who kept putting her nose in his business. She was the one got him caught, ruined all his plans. Stood up for that old slave rather than a member of her own race. Weren’t for her, he’d be moseying off the ship with the rest of the crew when the captain gave liberty. With enough gold in his bag to set him up for life.

Now he had nothing. She had to pay.

He waited until she walked a little farther then crept up behind her, keeping his distance. He followed as she turned a corner around the office building, then hurried before he lost her in the street crowd. He stood just behind the corner and watched as a young couple escorted her to a carriage. He had to act fast, or he’d lose her for good.

On his left, three horses were tied up by the curb. He looked around for any sign of the owners, anyone looking his direction. He glanced back at the carriage; it started to pull away. He quickly tied his bag to the saddle and hopped on the middle horse.

It was a good horse, did what it was told. He backed it out and turned down South Street, keeping his eye on the carriage, now about a half block away. He waited for someone to shout, to cry out for the police to stop him. But no one did. His horse now.

He quickly closed the distance but stayed back a ways. Didn’t want to take a chance that Foster lady would spot him when the carriage stopped.

But when it did stop, he’d be there.

She had to pay.

Micah had been cleaning up most the morning, still had lots more to do ’fore he was through. Crabby was movin’ along right next to him all the while. She didn’t do much, but make what he do not as hard somehow. She so happy, all the live long day. Like God put her on this earth for one purpose. To bring him joy.

He stopped picking things up a minute to look over the rail at the dock. Most the women be gone now. A sad thought kept knocking on his door, and he kept trying not to let it in. About Mrs. Foster. He thought they had become friends, felt quite sure it was so. But she was gone now, and she never come find him to say good-bye. He wanted to find her, but Cap’n had him cleanin’ down below when all the ladies left the ship.

She must a’ had her reasons, and he knew they must be good ones. ’Cause they was friends; he felt quite sure it was so.

He looked up the rail a few feet, right where he saw her last. The whole deck had been filled with a ruckus, people going this way and that. But not Mrs. Foster. She stood so still. He felt so bad for her, knowing the sadness she be feeling, all her dreams sinking four days ago with that ship. He said a prayer for her, but then he had to get below again.

Just now Crabby run to that spot, sniffing and pawing at a piece of paper. “What you got there, girl?” He walked over and picked it up. Right off, he was sure it was a letter of some kind. Had fancy writing all over it. He wished he could read it, know what it say. He saw two wet spots, like raindrops on the middle of the page. But he knew it wasn’t rain.

This was right where Mrs. Foster had stood. He had a quick feeling, the kind he come to recognize might be the Holy Ghost. This letter be hers. She must have dropped it somehow. If she didn’t want it, she’d have tossed it over the side. He knew she wouldn’t just throw it on the deck for Micah to clean up. She not like that. And with them tears on the page, he had a strong feeling this note was very important.

“Cap’n will know what this is,” he said to Crabby.

“I don’t have time for this, Micah,” Captain Meade said. “You see all what’s going on here.” He was in his cabin, sitting at his oak desk. “Got to finish my log, then get ready for a big meeting with these steamship people.” He looked back at his work.

“I’m sorry, Cap’n. Don’t mean to cause you no trouble. Can you just tell me if this belongs to Mrs. Foster? Don’t gotta read the whole thing.”

He ignored Micah a few moments. Micah decided he should stay put. Either Cap’n get more angry or give in.

“Bring it here.” He turned in his chair, held the note up to the light coming in the window. He mumbled out loud as he read. A few lines later, his face got real serious; he even shook his head back and forth, let out this big sigh. “It’s from her husband, guess his name is John.”

“I thought so.”

“Looks like he wrote it just before they parted.”

“She so brokenhearted.”

“They all were,” the captain said.

“Yessuh, but Mrs. Foster somethin’ special, the way she helped everyone.”

“She was a nice lady.”

“Weren’t for her, Missuh Maul get everyone thinkin’ I stole they gold.”

“Now, Micah, I never would have believed that.”

“Nice a’ you to say, suh. But Cap’n, we got to get this to her.”

“Micah, we can’t do that. She’s already left the ship.”

“But these the last words her husband ever say.”

“I understand, but she’s gone, Micah. Nothing more can be done.” He turned back toward the desk.

“Can I ask you somethin’, Cap’n?”

“What?” He didn’t look up.

“Just . . . can I go find her? Can I get this note to her?”

“Now, Micah, how you going to do that? You know where she went?”

“No suh, but—”

“But nothing. You need to just get back to work.” He handed the note back to Micah. “I want this ship ready to sail. You know what needs doing before we can leave.”

“Yessuh, I know.” He started to walk away. “But Cap’n. If I work extra hard, get all that needs doin’ done, then can I go? I feel real bad ’bout her not havin’ this.”

“I don’t see how that’s possible.”

“But if I do, can I?”

“Now, Micah, you aren’t thinking of running out on me, are you? I haven’t ever whipped you, but if you ran off—”

“Cap’n. You got my word, I’ll be back way before we set sail. I’ll leave Crabby here, so you know I ain’t lyin’.”

Captain Meade thought a moment. “I suppose it’s okay then. But Micah, you better not skip out on any chores. There’s a lot more needs doing with all these ladies and kids being onboard.”

“No, suh, I promise I’ll do it all.”

“How you expect to find her? You never been in a city like this.”

“Don’t rightly know. Just pray, I guess. God want me to find her, I ’spect I will.”