The Boy From Ballyclerahan

Chapter 16: The Mission

Taverner Plantation, Bay de Verde, Newfoundland, September 23rd, 1811

"You wanna what?" asked Taverner, perplexed by the nature of their discussion.

Pat had returned to Bay de Verde a few weeks before and had done some good work since. Lapping up every nugget of advice and instruction offered to him, his fishing skills were improving exponentially. At the same time, the bond between the plantation owner and his apprentice grew stronger by the day. Recognizing his maturity and intellect, Taverner confided in Pat, a sounding board for some of his more difficult decisions.

Pat's thoughts drifted to the last time he saw his sister's face, reliving the guilt he felt as he pulled away on the horse cart. His heart screamed to go back, to save her. His gut, however, pulled hard in the other direction. That day, the gut would win. Today would be no different.

"I want to start my own plantation," Pat repeated. "With my own fishing rooms, my own boat. The whole thing." He stared into Taverner's eyes, head tilted upwards to meet his gaze. His face was deadly serious.

Taverner stared back, contemplating Pat's wish. "And how do you plan to do that?" he asked curiously, without a hint of irritation or ridicule.

"I have already started to build my own boat. Phonse Kehoe has been helping me. Figured I'd scout along the shoreline towards The Grates to see what's out there. There must be a cove or two that hasn't been claimed yet. I'll keep searching until I find one." There it was. A simple, if naïve, plan.

"Yes, there's a few empty coves over that way. But there are good reasons why there's nobody in them," Taverner replied matter-of-factly. "But let's say you find a place to set up, and let's say you catch a few fish to salt and dry. How in God's name are you gonna sell them?"

"Figured I'd haul them back here and use your scales. Access the merchants that way. So I can't be too far away from the Harbour, I expect," Pat replied earnestly, without consideration for the imposition he was suggesting.

"Oh, I see. Use my scales, would you?" Taverner reiterated, his left eyebrow raised a little. "And how might I benefit from this little arrangement? Or is it only about you," asked Taverner, sarcastic yet tinged with admiration.

"Haven't thought that far ahead but I am sure we can reach a deal that we can both live with," Pat replied with much certainty. Every problem had a solution.

Taverner coughed a little, choking back a smile. "Alright. Let's say we do reach a deal. What then?" he countered, keeping his face as straight as possible.

"Well, then I build a house big enough for my sister and me. Once I'm finished, I'll send for her. Might bring my uncle too," Pat contemplated out loud. Perhaps he could save them all.

"You talked about your sister before. Means a lot to you, doesn't she, Paddy," he asked with a sympathetic tone, acknowledging Pat's motivation. Taverner was taking things a little more seriously.

"Yes, she means a lot to me. With our mother and father gone, she was all I had, and still I left her there all alone.. God knows what's happened to her." He picked at a hangnail, nervously flicking it as he spoke. He cleared his throat, composing himself. "I will keep my promise. Build my own plantation. Then I'll send for her."

Taverner paused to consider the proposal. Pat was a quick study. Smart as the devil and determined as hell. His mind was made up and there would be no changing it.

Taverner also knew the unbreakable bonds of family. Bonds to be cherished and maintained no matter what obstacles stand in the way. He thought of his own mother, Mar. Even in her current state, he would do anything for her. Protect her at any cost. He stared back at Pat, nodding. The lad was noble, his purpose true. And loyal. He kept Mar's condition a secret. A decision made.