Cutlass Anne

Cutlass Anne - Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Scully motioned for me to climb onto the dock. I did as told and followed the burly man who waited for us onto shore. Crates, sacks, and barrels were lined up and ready to be carried on board. I lingered at the back of the group. Four men, I hadn't seen the day before followed the captain carrying a large crate. I had my doubts that all those men would fit on even without cargo. I grabbed a sack and struggled to raise it to my shoulder.

"Lift at the knees," Captain Henry hollered, helping me hoist it up.

I nodded and carried the sack to the rowboat. It was already half full with his cargo.

"How is all of this and the crew going to fit in the boat?"

"Change of plan. We're taking all of this to the ship while the captain and his extra crew stay on shore tonight."

"Why?" I asked Scully.

"They have some, uh, business to attend to," he muttered.

"Oh."

The boat was loaded with the cargo, and I watched as the captain walked back into town. I couldn't help but wonder what kind of business he had to attend to so late at night. I decided it was best to keep my mouth shut. The last thing I needed was to draw attention to myself. Scully began the long, arduous row back to the ship. I held onto crates and sacks as we were tossed again by the wind. Considering the beating we received in the bay, I was having second thoughts about heading out to sea.

But if I don't go, I'll never find Jane. She'll be lost forever.

The thought of never seeing Jane again was enough to make me endure the long, hard work and the storms. As we pulled up alongside The Gilded Lady, a rope was thrown down to us. Scully tied it around the large crate. With a quick tug, it was hoisted up.

"Ho, down there. Where's the captain?" Flynn called down.

"He's staying ashore, sir."

"Why?"

"Business," Scully replied.

"Business? What sorta business?"

"Not my place to ask, sir," he told Flynn.

He scowled and walked away. This made me wonder even more what sort of business was occurring back onshore.

"Why is Flynn mad?"

"He's the captain's first mate and son. He doesn't like when the captain leaves him out of the ship's business."

"The captain doesn't include Flynn in all the ship's goings on? That's rather odd, isn't it? I thought the first mate knew everything that happened aboard the vessel."

"Don't worry 'bout it, laddy," he grunted, heaving another barrel toward the rope.

I furrowed my brow and bit my lip. I wanted to know more, but I knew if I pressed the issue, it could draw unwanted attention. We spent the rest of our time in relative silence, with only grunts and groans exchanged between us. I was quickly getting the hang of lifting the barrels and sacks.

"All right, laddy, our turn," Scully wrapped his arm and leg around the rope.

"What?"

"Now, we climb."

"Oh," I said, trying to mask my fear and disappointment at not having the ladder.

I watched as he pulled himself up the side of the ship effortlessly. I didn't know if I would be able to do what he did, but I would have to try. After all, I was posing as a boy. I grabbed hold of the rope, wrapped it around my arm and leg just like Scully did, and tried pulling myself up. I made it a few feet but fell back down.

"Ey', boy, you got to get up 'ere on your own!" a man shouted.

"Yeah, I know that," I shouted back.

I could feel my cheeks burning despite the chill in the air. Rain dripped down my face, and my clothes felt like they weighed a hundred pounds. The shirt clung to my body, hindering the movement of my arms. I dropped to the bottom of the rowboat and pushed the sleeves of my sopping wet shirt up. Wrapping the rope around my body again, I leaped as high as I could and held on to the rope. My arms were on fire as I pulled myself up slowly. Each inch felt like a mile. I could feel my biceps shaking and my hands blistering. At the top, I managed to wrap an arm around the railing and heave myself over. I lay on the deck of the ship facing the sky. The rain pelted my cheeks, and my arms felt like rubber. I did not want to move.

"What took you so long?" Flynn asked, looking down at me.

"I've never climbed before," I muttered.

"Hmm. Okay. Well, get up and let's get this cargo below deck before it's ruined," he said, stepping over me.

I groaned and rolled over.

I am definitely not made for this kind of work. How can people work like this their entire lives? Had I really been that pampered throughout my life?

I got up and walked to the rest of the crew. The brawny men were hoisting the crates and barrels up to their shoulders with ease. I had never given the sailors and laborers much credit for what they did every day before then. I had a new appreciation for what they had to go through just to survive. I grabbed a sack, probably the same sack from the dock, and followed the men down below. Below deck was split off into multiple rooms. To the right, a large area looked like it was the sleeping quarters. A few tables in front of the stairs indicated a sort of dining area. We were going to the left. Inside was nothing but cargo. It had the aroma of tobacco, coffee, and grains. It was a wonderful smell, really. I had never smelled anything like it. I stood in the room for a few moments just examining its contents. Toward the back wall was a door. Nobody used it or paid much attention to it. I glanced around me to be sure I was alone and went to it. I put my hands on the cool, brass knob and began to turn.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, boy," a deep, rough voice said behind me.

I jumped and spun around and stared into an irate, red face.

"That area is off-limits."

"W-why?" I stuttered.

"It just is," he growled before pivoting on his heels and walking away.

I stood there shaking as my heart slammed against my rib cage. The man was terrifying. As much as I wanted to find out what was back there, I did not want to find out what happened to someone who broke the rules.