Patriots: New York

Chapter One: New York

I spent all day on that cargo ship. The sailor didn't say much to me, but I felt a little rude not asking for his name or making any sort of conversation. The thing was, I didn't have any desire to tell him my name, who I was, and what I was doing. I debated whether to even live under my true name and identity when in New York. A few of the British soldiers in Boston knew me as an annoying and troublemaking girl and were always trying to find a reason to bust me. If they recognized me or my name, they might trace me back to my family and hurt them, being that my father was still involved with the Sons. I decided to try out a possible identity on this soldier and practice talking about it. I decided to thicken my slight Irish accent I already had when I spoke because I listened to my Ma so much when I was growing up. I decided that I would go by my middle name for now. The accent and the name would line up, especially if this sailor was Scottish as his accent told.
  "Well, I guess we're going to be here for a while," I said, my accent thicker.
The sailor just nodded kept sailing on.
  "Is there a crew on board?" I asked.
  "Nay, just me," he said shortly.
  "And what is your name? Sorry for not asking sooner," I said.
  "Salty," he said, not seeming like he wanted to talk much.
  "Salty," I repeated, "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you."
  He didn't acknowledge me. He probably found me annoying, but I had to ask how long the ride would be.
"How long does this trip usually take?" I asked.
  "Three days on a good day," he said tersely. "Now, would ye keep yer yap shut so I can focus, little lassie? We don't want this trip to take longer."
  "My apologies, sir," I said quickly.
  So this sailor was in no mood to chat, and I would be stuck on here for three days. I could make do.
    It was cool and foggy. It was quite a beautiful sight though. The sun was rising in its flaming colors of rose and peach and lavender. It was especially breathtaking over the water. I stood at the starboard side of the boat, looking out over the infinite waters. I knew they were not infinite, but they seemed so. I could still see Boston faintly in the distance, but it was fading away. I knew if we went east we would find Europe, but we were going southwest. It was a little frightening going somewhere like New York by myself, with a strange sailor with a strange name, a three day voyage, not really knowing what I would do when I got there.
   I decided that it would be best to start thinking about what I would do once I got to New York. I would hopefully arrive in a harbor with a busy port. Ideally I could get a job with the army, nursing or something. However, if the soldiers were not getting payed, why would I? Also, they already had surgeons and doctors of their own that were men who could fight just as much as the soldiers themselves. Why would they want a little girl like me who was only really good for one thing to them? Sure, I could shoot a gun if needed but maybe the extent of my helping with the army would be occasional volunteering, not a full time job. I needed a job the payed. I really did not have a desire to seek out a family that needed a maid or housekeeper again, because there's too great a risk of that turning into the Harold's all over again. What other job opportunities were there for a 15 year old girl? An apprenticeship with a seamstress or weaver would not pay, and I was a little old to start. The only other thing that came to mind was waiting tables in a restaurant or tavern. I would ask around for jobs at local places and see if I could get a job and a room to rent.
   That was another thing. Where would I stay? Taverns sometimes had rooms in the back for rent, but could I afford those? I could always sleep on the street, for it was late March and the weather was only getting warmer. I did not know anyone in New York who was not a soldier, so there was no one I could find and see if I could stay with. Maybe I could stay in the camp, though if I did, it would probably attract all sorts of homeless people like me to stay in the camp as well, and I could not do that to anyone. I decided that I should plan to sleep on the street.
   The first two days passed slowly. All Salty had to eat was hardtack, and he was not really keen on sharing, as he only had one unbreakable piece.
  "What cargo are you bearing on this ship?" I asked.
  "Powder, gold, guns, swords, lace, silks, jewels, things me's picked up," He said.
  "Where have you picked these things up?" I asked nervously.
  "Off people I've met all up and down the coast," he said.
  "And what do you plan to do with these things when we get to New York?" I asked.
  "Sell 'em," he said, rolling his eyes.
  "To whom?" I asked, worried that I had hitched a ride with a British army powder dealer.
  "Anyone who wants to pay the best price."
  Oh no. Salty was not an ordinary sailor taking cargo up to New York. He was a pirate! It made sense now. The tattered clothes, the lack of teeth, the gold earrings, the sword hanging at his side. He had stolen all this "cargo" and was going to sell it to the highest bidder! I could be helping the enemy get ammunition to use against my friends! My goodness! What had I gotten myself into? A horrible thought ran through my mind based on what I had heard about pirates from other people. They sold people too! Not just black slaves, but anyone they could make money off of! Was he going to sell me too? I had heard pirates dealt in rings of evil and poor young women often got swept up in the process by being sold as prostitutes. Now I was in full panic!
  "Salty, I do not really need to be taken all the way too New York. If you could just drop me at the nearest port when we pass it..." I said, trying not to show I was scared.
  "Nay, lass. Yer comin' with me to New York. That was our deal," he said, eyeing me suspiciously.
  "S-so there's no food except your own hardtack?" I asked, changing the subject.
  "Nay, besides, they'll like you better thin..."
  He was trying so starve me! This was officially the biggest mistake I had ever made in my life!
  The first two nights I slept on the floor below deck, but I was so scared that Salty might do something to me, so I slept lightly. On the third night when he went to bed I stayed up looking at the water. What had I gotten myself into? What were my parents doing? Did Eleanor tell them where I was? So many fears and worries flooded my head. How could I escape Salty? He seemed like he wanted wrong with me. Maybe I could shoot him in his sleep with one of the guns, but I realized that would be terribly wrong. Besides, I did not know how to sail to New York. The sounds of the crashing waves roared in my ears.
Suddenly there was a little light in the distance. It got closer and closer until I could make out what it was in the dark.
"There it is!" A voice shouted.
"That pirate ship!" Another voice shouted.
Both of them had British accents. Damn it! Now the British had found me!
"Alright, men," a third voice shouted. "Load the cannons!"
Oh no! They were going to fire on the ship and it was all going to blow up! I had to do something before I blew up with it! This plan of mine was not going to work if I was dead!
"Help!" I screamed as loud as I could. "Help me please!"
"What was that?" A voice asked.
"Help!" I screamed.
"It sounds like a girl. Hello! Who is there?!" A voice called.
I decided to put on a heavy British accent, "I'm just a girl who has been taken captive by this pirate! Please! Help! He wants wrong with me!"
"Hold on a moment, we will save you!" A voice called.
I was able to see their ship moving closer right up next to Salty's ship.
"Miss," a British soldier said, holding up a lantern. "I'll need you to jump."
I looked down at the distance between the two ships. It seemed small, but for my short legs it might be too much. I grabbed my suitcase and threw it over to the other ship with no trouble. One of the soldiers looked at it strangely. Throwing a bag was one thing. Jumping was another. I decided to get a running start. I took a few steps back and ran. I did a quick preparation jump to give me some power, but suddenly a strong wind blew and Salty's ship shifted backwards as I took off. The gap was too big. I had already jumped!
  I was in mid air when the ships spread apart and time seemed to slow down. I felt myself falling almost in slow motion towards the dark abyss of the Atlantic ocean. Oddly, I did not scream.
  I hit the water with a hard smack and a biting cold. As it was late March, the water was still icy cold. I struggled to the surface gasping and sputtering. The cold water made my chest pain and everything freeze painfully. I desperately treaded water to stay afloat and avoid drifting away.
  "Oh no!" I heard one of the British soldier's shout.
"Miss! We can throw a barrel on a rope to you and try to pull you up! Try to swim to it and grab hold!" Another soldier shouted. 
  "Alright! Just please help!" I screamed, my teeth chattering furiously.
  Within a few seconds, though it seemed like forever, a barrel came crashing down into the water right in front of me. I tried to grab onto it, but failed countless times before succeeding. The soldiers pulled up the barrel as I hung on for dear life.
  When I was within reach one of the soldiers grabbed me and took me onto the deck. I collapsed, shivering violently.
  The soldiers seemed very shocked.
  "Are you alright?" One asked.
  "Y-yes," I breathed. "Y-yes, I'm f-fine."
  "Alright! Load the cannons!" Another soldier ordered.
  They fired a cannon at Salty's ship. There was a small explosion and the whole vessel shook. Salty ran out where we could see him.
   He saw me and shouted, "Hey! Ye' bastards have stolen my prime source of money! What do ya think yer doing?! I'll fire on ye'!"
  One of the soldiers shot off a musket and Salty fell dead on the deck of his own ship. I hated seeing death. Even though he wanted to sell my innocence, I still felt sickened by watching him alive one second and dead and bleeding where I had stood just minutes ago.
  I hardly noticed, but part of Salty's ship was on fire and it was quickly spreading.
  "What was on that ship?" A soldier asked me.
  "G-guns. Powder. Things he s-s-stole," I shivered.
  "Should we seize those for the army?" A soldier asked another one.
  "No, I wouldn't jump. We saw what happened," the questioned soldier said, gesturing at me.
  "Do you want a blanket?" A soldier asked me.
  "No, I do not need your chivalry," I said, remembering my accent.
  "Suit yourself," the soldier muttered.
  "Thank you for saving me though," I said softly.
  "You're welcome. It's our duty," another soldier said.
   I do not really remember what happened after that. I knew I must have fallen asleep and I awoke in the morning in a little bed below deck with three blankets.
"Oh good, you are awake," A soldier who I had not noticed before said with a smile.
"Yes, I'm awake," I said tersely. "How did I get here?"
"I brought you down here so you could warm up a bit. You were very cold after that fall you took into the water," he said. "Do you feel alright?"
"Yes, I'm fine." I said, sitting up shakily. Suddenly a thought flew into my mind. What if I was past New York or in the wrong direction? "Where is this ship headed?"
"New York harbor. What were you doing one that pirate ship?" He asked.
I breathed a sigh of relief at New York harbor. "I was trying to get passage to New York and he offered it for a cheap price, but then it turned out he was only going to try to make money off of me..."
"You got on the pirate's ship though?" The soldier cringed at my story.
"Yes, but how was I to know he was a pirate?" I asked defensively.
"Why were you going to New York alone?" He asked.
I needed a good lie, and fast. "My parents..." I began, "My father, a member of the British army, was killed at Bunker Hill, and my mother died of grief soon after. I am going to New York City to live with my grandparents."
  "I'm sorry," the soldier said, concerned, "Many good men died that day."
  I nodded as tears filled my eyes. Doctor Warren had just entered my mind.
  "Well, I guess that's lucky that we are all going to New York," the soldier smiled.
  "Yes, it certainly is," I said quietly.
  "I'm really sorry about your position. I have three daughters myself. They're all grown now, but I can't imagine having any one of them roaming around on any random ship trying to get to a big city alone," he said.
  He suddenly seemed so human to me. Sometimes I forgot that the enemy soldiers were really people with families and kindness in their hearts. He may have not have helped me if he knew who I really was, but he still may have, I didn't know. He saw me as a young girl in need of help, and had helped me. "Well, I've become pretty self sufficient," I said quickly, standing up, my legs feeling weak, and falling forward.
  "Are you sure you are not sick?" He asked.
  "I'm sure," I said. I immediately began a sneezing fit which turned into a coughing fit, during which I fell on the floor. I caught my breath and stood up, using the bed to hold myself up. I felt dizzy, "How far away is New York from here?"
  "About an hour away. How about you rest here until we get there," he said, his eyes wide.
  "Alright," I gave in. I would probably make myself worse if I walked around.
  I fell back asleep. I was woken up by the soldier who had taken care of me.
"We're in the harbor," he said. "Do you feel well enough to leave the ship?"
"Yes, of course," I said urgently. "I know where my grandparents live, I can walk there from here. Thank you so much for the hospitality, sir."
"You are welcome," he said, kissing my hand. "Be safe."
  "I will," I said.
   I stood up slowly, took a deep breath, grabbed my bag, and marched off the ship. The port was very busy, like Boston's. There were other ships of British soldiers arriving too. There were probably pirates and scoundrels in the mix too, and I would be more wary of that in the future. I pulled my shawl tightly around myself and made my way through town. Buildings in New York were even taller than in Boston. There were more crowded streets as well. I was still cold, and had no idea what the temperature actually was. Everyone else was dressed like it was warm, but I couldn't feel it. I wandered through street after street looking for any continental soldiers or possible places to work. I was also just trying to see the city.
By dark, I found one street that had a printing office, a few little shops, and two taverns. I decided that a tavern would be a good place to look for a job. I walked into the first one which had a sign that read The Oak Barrel. I walked in cautiously and approached the man at the counter.
"Excuse me," I said. "Are you hiring?"
He scoffed, "Hiring? Who? Yourself?"
I nodded.
"Why would we pay a little girl when we have slaves to work for us?"
"You have slaves working here?" I asked, disgusted.
"You see, you don't want to work here," the man laughed.
"I guess I do not," I said tersely.
I walked out of there and back out into the street. I caught sight of a few men in hunting frocks, a sign of a militiaman or continental soldier without a uniform. They went into the tavern at the other end of the block. I walked into that one. The sign outside read Bradford Street Tavern. It was much smaller, but full of men who looked less wealthy than the other tavern, but had guns next to their tables. These struck me as soldiers. I took a deep breath and approached this counter.
  "Hello," I said to the man working there, "Are you hiring?"
"I don't know," he said halfheartedly.
  "Well, may I talk to the owner or the manager?" I asked stiffly.
  "I guess I can't stop you. Owner's over there in the green," the man shrugged and pointed to a man in a green jacket with an inexpensive looking powdered wig on, sitting alone at a table.
  I approached him, hoping to look confident. "Good day sir," I said brightly in my normal voice.
  "Good day, miss," he said pleasantly but quietly. "What brings a girl such as yourself into a place like this?"
  "I need a job," I said.
  "Why would you need a job here? Don't your mother and father need your help?" He asked.
  "I haven't got either of those," I lied, looking sad. "They both died of small pox last week. I've no one left, and no inheritance. We were awful poor. Please, sir. I'll work very hard and do a good job."
  "Well, I've never hired someone so young. How old are you? You look twelve," he said, looking concerned at my story.
  "I'm fifteen. I just look young, I know," I said, my eyes pleading, "May I please have a job? It doesn't have to pay much, just enough to live humbly on."
  He looked touched, "Well, I could use an extra set of hands waiting tables and washing dishes. I guess you could have a few shifts. Besides, men will be more likely to buy from a pretty little thing like you than a rough, ugly thing like me," he joked.
  "I think you look very nice," I said. "And thank you so much. I'll work whenever you need me. Also, I was wondering. Do you have any back rooms for rent?"
  "Yes I do if you need a place to stay. I charge a penny a night," he said, "And I'll pay you a shilling an hour for your work."
  "Oh thank you!" I exclaimed happily, clasping my hands.
  "I know it's not much," he said, "but that's all I can pay."
  "That should be alright," I said. "I guess I should know my new boss's name. What is your name?"
  "I'm Ezekiel Walden. You can call me Walden or Mr. Walden if you'd like. What's your name?" He asked.
  To tell my name or use a fake one. That was the question. I decided to use my real one. My parents were dead for all he knew, and I had never heard his name before. "I'm Elizabeth Byers. You can call me Liza."
  "I like that," he smiled. "Well, you look famished and tired, so you ought to eat something and go to bed. You can start work tomorrow. I'll show you to the room."
  "Thank you," I said, slipping him a penny.
  He took me through a door behind the shelves of beer and wine and down a hall with three bedrooms. He pointed to the farthest one, "That one is mine. I don't rent that one out. You can have this one." He pointed to the second one. "It's got a little bed with a trundle. There aren't any renters besides you right now, but I'll warn you there might be someday, so you might need to share or move to the trundle."
  "That's alright." I said. "Thank you so much for this. I'm awfully tired. Would you mind if I just retired now so that I'm strong for work tomorrow?"
  "Not at all. Do what you need to do. Goodnight. I look forward to working with you, Liza," he said kindly.
"Goodnight, Mr. Walden," I said.
  Once he left I pulled my night gown from my suitcase and changed into it. I said some prayers of thanksgiving for getting me here to New York safely, and I climbed into the bed and fell right asleep. I had finally made it. New York, new life.