Authors: Leen Elle
That evening, the girls were busy preparing supper in the kitchen when Charlie entered with a box of cans and preservatives.
"Er . . . let's see," he said, peering inside, "We've got some peaches, green beans, pears . . . I suggest you try and spread these out a bit though and only use one or two each night, we've still got a long way to go."
Mary nodded and pulled out two cans for that night's meal.
Charlie had just turned to leave when Gail grabbed his arm. Curiosity had been building up inside her for hours, ever since she'd seen the mysterious, sleeping boy, but whenever she tried to get Charlie alone to ask about it someone else always seemed to be present.
"Can I ask you something?" she whispered.
"Of course.
What is it?"
Gail pulled him over to the corner of the room, out of earshot from her sisters, and murmured, "I was downstairs earlier, and I didn't mean to or anything, but I heard a cough coming from the room you told us was used for storage. There's a boy inside that room, Charlie! He didn't see me, for he was sleeping. But I . . . I thought we were the only ones on board- just us and the sailors. Who is he?"
Charlie sighed, "I was wondering when one of you would find out. It didn't take long, I see." He paused, "Mary, Sara, Nora, Emy, you'd better come over here."
They looked over curiously, set down their things and came over.
"What's wrong?" asked Nora.
"Nothing's wrong," Charlie assured, "I just . . . I lied to you. The room downstairs, beside the sailors', that isn't a storage room. That room belongs to a young man by the name of Nathaniel West."
The girls gasped.
"But how . . ." Mary began, "How could we not have known? A week's already passed. How could we not have seen him?"
"Nathaniel . . . Well, Nathaniel isn't well. He's ill.
Terribly ill.
It's been this way since he was a child."
"What's wrong with him?" questioned Sara, "I mean, what disease
does he have
?"
"They don't know. He's been taken to hundreds of doctors, but no one can figure it out. He's a mystery."
"Has he ever even been up on deck?" said Gail, "Is that why we've never seen him?"
"Nathaniel couldn't go up on deck if he tried. Well, I suppose he could but it would be terribly painful and it would take hours if he tried to do it alone. He's bedridden. He's lived almost his entire life in bed."
Gail shifted uncomfortably. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it must be like for him.
Charlie continued, "When he was a child they noticed something was wrong with him. He'd try to do the things normal children do- run, jump, play- but he'd only last around twenty minutes before fainting. He just couldn't take that much activity. As he grew older, he'd only last five minutes or so. That's when it was decided that he mustn't do such things anymore. His parents figured he must have some sort of strange disease, though they didn't know what it could possibly be. He had to lie in bed all day and all night, and he still does today. There are moments when he can barely move. He has continual coughing fits and often trembles and shakes like he's mad."
"Why didn't you tell us he was down there?" Mary said, biting her lip, "We could've . . . I don't know. We could have tried to help."
"Nathaniel doesn't really like visitors much," Charlie explained, "He's got an awful lot of pride and he doesn't like to be pitied, and he's been pitied his entire life. He's the one who sought me out, not his parents. His parents probably would have made sure he traveled in luxury with a doctor and fifty nurses by his side every hour of the day, but that's not what Nathaniel wanted. He wanted a quiet ride over to some hospital in Wickensville and I agreed to give that to him. I didn't tell you because I wanted to keep that promise."
"Do the sailors know?" asked Nora.
"They've all figured it out by now," Charlie nodded, "It's not surprising that they should figure it out faster than you girls did since they sleep in the room just beside his." Charlie chuckled, "Zooey ran into my room looking a fright on the very first night. He'd heard Nathaniel coughing like a madman at midnight, peeked in the supposedly empty room and saw a boy lying there. He ran into my room out of breath, asking if I'd known there was another boy on the ship."
The girls giggled.
Charlie gave a feeble smile, "I suppose we really shouldn't be laughing though, should we? One of his nurses came to see him off and she told me something rather frightening. She said that everyday she'd wake up wondering if she'd find Master West dead or alive. That's how uncertain his life is. He doesn't even know if he'll live to see tomorrow," Charlie looked to the floor, "It's a terrible thing. I'm sorry that anyone has to live their life that way."
The girls were just finishing up supper and beginning to set the table when Gail noticed Charlie walk in with a tray and begin to prepare an extra meal.
"Who's that tray for?" Gail asked, watching Charlie with a curious expression.
"Nathaniel," Charlie said, glancing up for a moment before continuing to spoon stew into a bowl, "I've been taking him down his meals every day."
He filled a cup with tea, cut off some bread, and filled a small plate with vegetables while Gail watched quietly.
"I could take it down to him," she suggested suddenly, not wanting to wait a day longer before meeting the mysterious boy.
"Oh, no, you don't have to do that."
"But I want to, Charlie. Really," Gail assured earnestly, "You just eat your dinner and I'll take care of Nathaniel."
Charlie shrugged and handed her the tray, "If you insist."
Gail grinned and headed downstairs, making sure not to let any of the stew spill as she made her way down the rickety staircase. A lock of red hair fell into her eyes, but she didn't have a free hand to brush it away and let it be.
Seeing that the door was already opened a crack already, Gail took advantage of the situation. She turned around and pushed her back into the door to open it, instead of removing a hand from the tray and risking an accident.
The room was filled with that eerie, ominous smell associated with invalids. It was a mixture of strange medicines that were scattered around a bedside table as well as the disease filled body lying on the bed beside it. Every smell in the room was accentuated by the fact that a gust of fresh air hadn't blown through since the ship set sail. It was stuffy and confined, muggy and stagnant, thick and oppressive. One got the sense that by simply walking in they might catch some horrible disease or perhaps even suffocate from a lack of clean air. Gail could barely breathe and she got the feeling that the only reason Nathaniel could was because he'd been living in a room like this one every since he'd been born. He'd become immune to its heavy, stifling texture.
As soon as Gail turned around a rather ignorant voice asked, "Who are you? And where's Charlie?"
Gail faced a young man lying beneath a black and white hound's-tooth blanket as well as other various sheets and quilts. He wore a pair of standard blue pajamas and because his arms were crossed in front of him and he didn't appear to be involved in any other sort of activity, Gail suspected he'd been waiting for his meal to arrive and was a bit angry it was coming to him a little later than usual.
His hair was a very light shade of brown. So light, in fact, that some may have classified it as a very dark blond. It was cut fairly short, but still found the length to stick up a bit on top from a lack of combing. His eyes were bright and gray- beautiful eyes that were so deep they reminded Gail of the ocean just outside his window. With rather thin lips and colorless cheeks, he bore the distinguished, yet notorious, face of an ailing man. The feature that caught Gail's eye most though, was his skin. Never before had she seen someone with skin as sickly pale as his. It was quite obvious he didn't spend much time outdoors, as Charlie had mentioned.
And although Gail knew he was required to do because of his illness, she couldn't imagine how any child could live their entire life in a bed. She thought she'd rather die than sit in bed all day. The one week six years ago that she'd been bedridden with the chickenpox, Gail practically went insane trying to occupy
herself
.
Realizing that Nathaniel had asked her a question and she was taking an awfully long time to answer, Gail replied quickly as she walked to his bedside.
"Charlie's busy, so I offered to bring down your meal," she explained. Putting on her brightest smile, she added, "My name's Abigail St. James, but you can call me Gail. Everyone else does."
Nathaniel scowled, "Who's to say I wish to call you anything?"
"Er . . . no one, I just . . . I thought you wanted to know my name. You
did
ask who I was."
"What sort of slop have you brought me today?"
Gail frowned, "
It's
stew, bread, vegetables, and tea. But it's most certainly
not
slop! My sisters cooked this and it's quite delicious actually, so don't go judging something before you've even tasted it!"
"I can judge something whenever I feel like judging it. And besides, if it's anything like the other food I've been given on this horrible ship, it most certainly
is
slop!"
Gail's jaw dropped. She'd been expecting a sweet, unfortunate boy that she might perhaps feel some compassion for, but at the moment all she should feel for this contentious lad was anger.
"You should be thankful you're given any food at t'all with that sort of attitude! Keep it up and you won't be getting this tray! Has your mother never taught you your manners? Have you no idea what decency is? When in the presence of a lady, you're supposed to act as a gentleman. Instead you're like a selfish, spoiled child! I shouldn't even give you this food if you're going to speak to me in such a degrading manner!"
Nathaniel rolled his eyes, "I'll speak to you however I like. And no, my mother didn't teach me my manners. Do you want to know why not? She was too busy going to parties like the perfect little socialite her parents taught her to be that she never once cared about her poor child. In all my life I've barely spoken a few words to
her,
or my father too, for that matter. They did try to buy me lots of presents to make up for it, but no present can replace love."
Gail didn't know what to say. Charlie hadn't told her about that; she wondered if he even knew. Luckily, Nathaniel continued before she had to speak:
"The nurses my mother hired were the ones who raised me. And they were so busy acting on my every whit and whim that they didn't have the time to teach me such things as manners. Transporting me from hospital to hospital and calling in doctors from every town in the country, they barely had time to breathe."
"I'll bet you never thanked them for all that either," Gail murmured beneath her breath, but Nathaniel didn't hear her.
"And as for your comment on how I should act when in the presence of a lady, well I'm terribly sorry but I wasn't aware that there was even a lady in the room."
He said it with such a smart aleck tone that Gail, once again, felt her jaw drop, "How dare you! I may be short, but I'm most
certainly
a lady. And although you may deny it, you know so too. Besides, I'm more of a lady than you'll ever be a gentleman! So if you think you can just-"
Nathaniel yawned, "Are we through yet, darling? I'm really rather hungry and I'm sure you haven't eaten yet either, so why not do us both a favor and just hand me that tray? Then you can go upstairs and eat your supper as well and never see me again and we'll both be happy. Charlie never dawdles around this much talking about such nonsense."