The Traitor's Stain (wattys 2019)

Chapter Twenty-Three: New York, New York

Ophelia had never thought that she'd actually be able to come up with an excuse to go to New York with Abraham, but she did it: she was going off to help Abraham sell some product from his farm. His parents played along, too. Sort of: as far as she knew, neither of them knew what their son was doing for Ben. They were even willing to take Constance for the couple days they would be gone, thank God: the other option was going to be taking her daughter with them: the idea of her being alone with just Beth to keep her away from Otetiani was unfathomable to her.

The trip, itself, took two days: one full day to get to the other end of Long Island, the closest point to New York, then one more day to get to the city, itself. It was slow going, because of the wheat in the cart, but they were still able to make fairly good time. Her nerves, however, made the trip feel like it took an eternity. She wished she could say that it was because she was excited about visiting New York for the first time, but it wasn't. She was on her way to New York in an attempt to lure a man to his death. Or, they would get killed trying. The thought of it was absolutely insane. Was she really doing this? Her husband had told her to lay low, not bring any attention onto herself. What she was about to do was the exact opposite of that.

But... this was what she had to do to get Noah back sooner than later. That was all that mattered to her, at that point.

"This is your first trip to the city, isn't it?" Abraham asked as he rowed them across the water to the city.

Ophelia nodded. "Is it yours?"

Abraham shook his head. "No: Dad has some business associates out here that we visit every once and awhile. I haven't been since the war, though."

She looked back at the city that rose before her. For just a moment, she forgot about what might be waiting for them, there.

"Ophelia," Abraham said grandly, "welcome to New York City."

***

"Now, our first stop is going to be going to Townshend's place," Abraham said. "Townshend can be a little grouchy, but trust me: he's fine once you get to know him..."

Ophelia had to admit: she was only half paying attention to what he was saying. How could she possibly pay attention when the largest city in the colonies was unfolding right before her eyes. The sights, the sounds, the smells... all of it was new to her. People on the docks shouted their wares, fisherman gutted their catch, women wore everything from the simplest of dresses to the latest fashions from London; she felt like she was suddenly on a different planet from the world of Long Island that she was used to.

"Ophelia?" Abraham asked. "Ophelia, are you even listening to me?"

She looked to him, frowning. "Huh?"

He sighed. "That's... what I thought." He looked up at the buildings around them. "It's crazy, isn't it? To think: this place didn't even exist a hundred or so years ago."

That wasn't quite what Ophelia was thinking: frankly, it was a wonder that this place existed at all. It was big, enough so that she knew for a fact that she would get lost for days on end if Abraham weren't there to help her along. And the thing that shocked her the most? The fact that, when compared to other cities in the world, it wasn't even that big.

What must London look like? Ophelia thought to herself as they walked. Or Paris?

It was only a reminder of just how little of the world she'd seen.

"Where did you say we were going, again?" Ophelia asked him.

"Robert Townshend's place," Abraham said. "He's our main man here in New York." He looked over at her. "Did you catch any of what I said about him?"