Spirited Away - A Novel of the Stolen Irish (19 page)

       Suddenly
Colin cupped his mouth. "EEEEEEEEEEEE! EEEEEEEEEEEE!"

       Freddy
jumped, startled by the shrill noise. Was he daft?

       In
a split second Sam was on him. The driver whacked his head with the flintlock's
handle. Colin reached up, grabbed the pistol barrel, twisted it from Sam's
hand, and struck his face with it. Sam seized his arm and wrenched it with a
sickening snap. Colin writhed on the ground, holding his arm. His head was
bleeding, too.

       Freddy
heard Laurie's muffled wails and Raz's moans as if she were under water. She
clutched Kofi closer, praying that he would stay quiet.

       "God!"
Colin yelled as Sam roughly turned him onto his stomach, sat on him, and gagged
him with a rope belt. The driver's nose was dripping blood. He got up, rolled
Colin back over, and abruptly straightened his broken arm. Colin screamed out
in pain, then lost consciousness.

       Sam
tied Colin's wrists together in front. He then pulled the second pistol from
his waistband, ignoring his own bloody nose and face. "I can do much
worse," he warned. "Paulina, take the boys."

       She
pulled Raz from his mother's hip and dropped him with a thud to the ground.

       "No!"
Birdie cried.

       Her
son scrambled to his feet, his frightened eyes watching the Creole woman.

       Paulina
stood over Birdie, holding her hand high as if to slap her. Instead she yanked
Laurie from Freddy's grasp and led both toddlers to the side of the clearing.

       "You!"
Sam pointed to Freddy. "Put the babe back in its sling."

       She
did as she was told. Kofi and Efia were blessedly quiet.

       "Priest!"
The driver spit the word savagely. "Hands behind you! Paulina, keep your
gun ready."

       Sam
began with Freddy, pulling her up and tying her wrists tightly in front.
"We could have had such fun," he whispered, wiping his bloody nose
with the back of his hand. He yanked the burning rope tighter. "Don't
think I won't hurt your little ones if you try anything…"

       Colin
stirred and opened his eyes.

       "Up!"
Sam barked, walking over and kicking him in the ribs.

       Colin
struggled to his feet, and Sam began marching the group up the terraced hill.

       "THWACK!"
They flinched at the crack of the driver's whip over their heads.

       Beside
her, his hand held by Paulina, Laurie sobbed audibly through the muslin that
covered his mouth. As she turned to comfort him, Freddy heard a loud thud. She
turned back in time to see a young man holding an oar high over Sam's head. The
driver was crumpled at his feet. The big wooden oar slammed down again, on
Sam's head. Before Paulina could react, another, taller man struck her in the
head with an oar. She collapsed, releasing the toddlers. As the two men quickly
seized all three guns and the whip, the boys ran to their mothers. 

       "Good
pirates!!" Freddy whispered, holding Laurie's hands with her own tied
hands. She smiled into his eyes, nodding. 

       The
shorter man held two guns on Sam and Paulina, even though they were
unconscious. The tall one rushed over to Colin and cut off his gag with a big
knife.

       "Johnny!"
Colin breathed hard as the man sliced through his wrist ropes. He clasped his
broken arm to his side and turned to the others. "Fear not, these are my
trusty men, Johnny and Owyn."

       As
he deftly cut her wrists free, Freddy realized that Johnny was dripping wet. He
moved to Birdie, then Father Tomas, to slice their bindings. The women hugged
the toddlers to them as the tall buccaneer carefully removed the tight wraps
from their mouths. He then gagged Paulina and Sam with the strips of fabric.
Laurie hid his face in Freddy's neck, whimpering. She rubbed her sore wrists as
she embraced him. Birdie silently held Raz close.

       "God
love ye!" Father Tomas murmured to Johnny. "You swam?"

       "Aye,
the lad and meself are the only ones who can…"

       "God
love ye…" Freddy repeated the priest's words in a dazed whisper.

       Father
Tomas tied Sam's ankles and wrists with the long driver's whip. Owyn still held
the driver and Paulina at gunpoint. Johnny pulled a coiled rope from his
waistband and began binding the Creole's ankles.

       "Light!"
Birdie blurted, making Freddy jump again.

       Their
heads jerked up. Sure enough, slanting beams of light flashed through the cane.

        "On
the road." Father Tomas stood, trying to see. "From the south."

       "Make
haste!" Colin whispered. "To the dinghy, hurry! Johnny, Owyn, tie
these evil felons together!"

       As
she and Birdie scurried back to the white strand, Father Tomas was dragging
Paulina over to where Sam lay. The four men caught up to them just as the women
were approaching the dinghy. Without a sound the men shoved the wooden rowboat
to the edge of the beach and they all crowded in, the women and children
sharing the bow bench. With the Quaker coat draped over his shoulders like a
cape, Colin braced his arm against his body and carefully lowered himself to
the bottom of the dinghy, wincing from pain. One of his ears was covered with
blood. Owyn nimbly shoved them off, climbed in, and tucked himself on the floor
of the bow. They held their breath as Johnny quietly turned the boat toward the
sloop and began rowing. All Freddy could hear was the soft groan of the oars
pulling against the ports. 

       "The
wretches won't be found any time soon, in that tall cane," Colin
whispered.

       Freddy
nodded, grabbing Birdie's hand and scanning the hillside for torchlight. She
spotted six lights moving north. She forced herself to take several deep
breaths, her eyes locked on those lights.

       Laurie
wriggled impatiently in her lap, trying to turn so he could see the sloop.
"Soon we'll reach the good pirate ship, son," she whispered into his
ear. Kofi squirmed but was quiet. Efia fussed a little. Birdie put her little
finger in the babe's mouth and the little one eagerly sucked it.

       The
women's eyes shone with joyful tears as they watched the curve of white sand
and the hills of Whittingham Plantation slowly recede into the distance. Not
only was this night black enough to hide them, the sea was calm enough to allow
the overloaded dinghy to stay afloat. It rode precariously low in the water.
Tiny ripples were stirred by the oars and the night's gentle wind. 

       "Soon!"
Freddy murmured into Birdie's ear, still holding her hand.

       Her
friend nodded mutely, squeezing Freddy's fingers so hard they hurt.

       With
her other hand, Freddy wiped at the hot tears making tracks down her cheeks. She
winced when she touched the spot high on her cheek that still tingled from
Paulina's slap. Blinking and inhaling slowly, through her nose, Freddy
memorized the moment. The oars dipped into the smooth water again and again. As
the dinghy carried them further out, Freddy watched the shore from her
backwards-facing bow seat. She could no longer make out the torch flames. Her
vision was blurred from the tears coursing down her face. She made the Sign of
the Cross and prayed that the cursed island would now exist only in her memory.
"Please, God," she murmured to herself, "no more pain, no more
tears."

       At
her feet, Colin had not moved a muscle. He appeared frozen in place, his eyes
still focused on the shore.

       She
leaned over, carefully put one knee on the boat bottom, and eased her weight
onto it. Holding Laurie on the bench by his waist, she slowly turned to face
forward.  

       Freddy
smiled into the fresh sea breeze. As the dinghy drew near, the sloop rocked,
its rigging clinking against the mast in the darkness.   

CHAPTER
35

February
1656

A loud
thud shook the
Alize
́
.
In the
dark officers' quarters Freddy flinched, clutching little Kofi tighter against
her breast. Huddled with Birdie and the children on a narrow bunk, she listened
to rapid footsteps overhead. The cabin smelled of lingering smoke. From farther
away came the heavy sliding sound of the anchor chain. But this chain sang a
song of freedom, not bondage. Freddy anxiously peered into the darkness and
wondered if the militia was in pursuit. Perhaps the black night was a good
sign, since militiamen would surely carry torches.

       Laurie's
head was on her lap. He whimpered softly. The babe stirred in the sling.
Pressed against her other side, Birdie was trembling and breathing hard. Freddy
could hear nothing from Raz or Efia. In the darkness she found Birdie's knee and
patted it.

       "Are
you all right?" Freddy whispered.

       "Yes,"
Birdie murmured, clasping her friend's hand.

       Kofi
stirred again, this time letting out a hungry cry. "Hush," Freddy
murmured, freeing her hand to position the babe for nursing. She guided Kofi's
mouth to her nipple and he suckled noisily.

       She
felt a change in the movement of the sloop. They were under sail! Again she
found Birdie's hand, held it tight, and took a shuddering breath.

       Young
Owyn had seen them to the cabin in the dark. Captain's orders, he'd whispered
as the rest of the crew scurried to get the sloop underway. The officer's
quarters would give them privacy, he'd explained, and the small windows would
provide fresh air. Before settling on the bunk, Freddy had groped her way around,
running her hands across a table, benches, four bunks, and a tin chamber pot
hanging from a hook. Now resting her head against the back of the berth, she
stroked the babe's silky head. The sloop rocked forward. 

       When
they reached Montserrat, where Colin had promised to deliver Father Tomas,
Aileen's home on St. Kitts would be a mere sixty miles away. A strange mixture
of sadness and resolve washed over Freddy. She would not try to see her sister.
The risk was too great. Babe Kofi, being half Coromantee, was legally banned
from St. Kitts. Aileen's husband was an English plantation owner. The important
thing was to get far from here, to protect the children. Her sister would
understand. God willing, they would sail north from these islands where Aileen remained
behind. As they journeyed, Freddy would write to her of the children, Kofi,
Birdie, her decision to venture to the Virginia Colony, and Colin.    

       Colin,
she mused, absently rubbing the mourning band on her forearm. Tonight he had
saved them all by signalling the sloop, even with Sam's gun pointed straight at
him. Colin deserved to know the whole truth. If he was the man she believed him
to be, he would accept her love for Kofi as readily as he'd accepted her bold
ways. Surely his amorous feelings would not be swayed. Cut from the same cloth,
she and Colin were drawn to each other as kindred souls. His strong spirit had
attracted her to him. That and, she had to admit, his dark good looks. When he
turned those penetrating blue eyes on her, it sent her heart to thumping so
wildly she feared it would fly out of her very chest.

       Freddy
shook her head, berating herself for entertaining such thoughts. It had been
eight months since Kofi's death. She would mourn him for a full year. She
tucked the sleepy babe back into the sling, pulled out her rosary, and kissed
its crucifix. Her mouth moved silently as she recited the prayers.

Freddy
could not sleep. The others had been slumbering for hours. When Kofi began to
fuss on the bunk, she put him back in his sling. The stuffy cabin was still
dark, but Freddy tiptoed to the windows and eased one open. Breathing in the
fresh night air, she heard Colin's deep voice directly above. She wondered if
he was badly hurt. Needing to see his condition for herself, she felt her way
to the door and down the passageway. 

       Emerging
into the ocean breeze, Freddy lifted her face and inhaled deeply. The sails
rustled as the sloop surged through waves that slapped its sides. She leaned
against the stern castle, lightly rubbing the babe's back. After a moment she
could make out the white shape of the mainsail as it snapped and billowed.
Again she heard the humming of soft voices from the quarterdeck. Wrapping her
arms protectively around Kofi's warm body, she made her way to the stairs and
crept up them. In the dark she could see that Colin's arm was wrapped in
something white, and his head sported a white bandage. He and Father Tomas
stood at the rail, keeping watch.

       Freddy
cleared her throat and both men whirled around.

       "Ah,
it's you." The priest walked over and grabbed her hands. "We're on
our way, my dear!"

       "I
can scarcely believe it," she murmured. "Colin, I had to see how you
fared."

       "I'm
not feedin' the fish yet," he reassured her, grinning. With his good arm
Colin lifted the spyglass and scanned the horizon to the east. "We are
making good progress and—Jaysus!" 

       "What?"
the priest whispered breathlessly.

       "Two
spots of light."

       "I
see nothing." Father Tomas made a brisk Sign of the Cross.    Freddy's
scalp prickled with fear. 

       Colin
stood motionless and silent, watching. When he exhaled, so did they. "They
move toward Bridgetown." He lowered the spyglass but kept his eyes on the
shore. "Night patrol. But no cannon, no flares, no ships."

       Looking
to the east, Freddy could not make out any lights. 

       "I
have a mighty thirst," Colin murmured. "Wait here…"

       He
returned quickly and poured something into three mugs. "Grog," he
mumbled, handing them drinks.

       "To
freedom and to you, my friends." Freddy held her pewter mug high, her eyes
tearing again, and sipped the tasty mix of rum, water, sugar, and nutmeg. 

       "Excellent."
Father Tomas propped one foot on the rail. "Colin was telling me about the
sloop…"

       "She's
as sound as they come.
She'll outrun anyone and hide in
shallows others dare not navigate."

        "First
rate," Father Tomas commented.

       Colin
took a long drink and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. His loose white shirt
fluttered in the breeze. He wore no bandana this night, nor earring. The
flintlock pistol was back in his waistband. 

       "God
love ye, Colin," the priest was saying, "for delivering me to
Montserrat, where I can work among the faithful. The curse of it, though, is
bidding farewell to the two of you…" 

       "Father,"
Colin replied, "come with us to the Virginia Colony."  Freddy nodded.
"Please reconsider…"    

       "Ah,
bless ye both. But the Irish on Montserrat are in sore need of their
priests."   

       "That
they are," Colin admitted.

       "I'm
worn out," Father Tomas said. "I must find a hammock before I fall
down. Good night."

       "Good
night, Father," they said in unison.

       Colin
scanned the sea all around. "More grog?"

       "Don't
mind if I do."

       "To
our enemies' enemies!" Colin clinked his mug against hers with a flourish.

       "It's
lovely out here, with only the stars for company." Once more she lifted
her gaze to the stream of celestial glory overhead. "It looks like
eternity…" 

       They
stared at the starry cloud arcing overhead. Colin returned to scanning the
water for signs of trouble, but Freddy kept her eyes fixed on the misty heavens.
Even with no moon, the sky had just enough light to be reflected in the serene
sea. Never would she forget this night of brilliant stars.

       Spirited
away. But this time Freddy and Colin were doing the spiriting, worlds away from
Galway Bay. No longer was she the girl easily tricked by a rogue offering
papaya sweetmeats. She was a woman who had endured slavery and loss and love
and loss again, a woman whose eyes had been opened.

       Colin
gently picked up a windblown strand of hair from her forehead and smoothed it
back. "Freddy, do you remember that night when you and Birdie saved my
life?"

       She
nodded, turning toward him. 

       "This
night you have the same sparkle in your eyes."

       Just
then the babe stirred and let out a hearty gurgle. Colin leaned forward to get
a closer look at the infant.

       "How
old is he?" he asked in a hushed voice.

       "Just
six months."

       Colin
stroked the babe's cheek with his knuckle. "You said he is named Kofi,
after his African father…"

       "Yes.
I was assigned to live with him and produce mulatto slaves." In the warm
night wind, more tendrils of long hair escaped from her braid and streamed away
from her face. "Kofi was a good man…"

       "You
loved him?"

       "Yes,"
Freddy slowly answered. "Yes! I loved him with all of my being!" 

       Colin
gulped.

       "I
should have told you," she said in a rush of words. "I – I am in
mourning until July. But, Colin—"

       "Captain!"
Owyn hissed from the canvas bucket high above decks. "The wind shifts
astern."

       "Blast!"
Colin muttered, stomping to the stern where the helmsman awaited his orders.

       Freddy
went back to the cabin, wrapped Kofi, and laid him on the bunk next to Birdie.
For a while she rested in a chair by the window, lost in her rushing thoughts
and still not the least bit tired. Even now, in the midst of her excitement
over making it to the sloop, sorrow pulled on Freddy like a nagging toothache.
She stared into the night and wondered if this raw longing for her homeland
would ever ease. Wishing she could light a candle and write to Mam this very
moment, she resolved to find parchment and ink and pen first thing in the
morning.

       The
cabin was peaceful as she again crept out, this time to the main starboard
rail.       

       In
the soft light of pre-dawn, Colin joined her there.

       "All
is well?"

       "Aye!
A hearty following wind and not a soul in sight."

       Freddy
watched the gray-green swells that stretched to the eastern horizon. 

       "You
said," he began, "that you mourn Kofi until July."

       "Yes."

       "You
were about to say something else…"

       She
hesitated, lowering her eyes. "I cannot remember." 

       "Freddy…"
He covered her hand on the rail with his own.

       "Yes?"
She cocked her head.

       "How
will you live among Birdie's people?"

       "I
trust Birdie with my life, as you trust the crew and the
Alize
́
with
yours."

       "I
understand, but what of the other natives?"

       "Birdie
assures me that her people will accept me. I have no choice…"

       "But
why?"

       "It
is the only way to protect my African babe from the English, from their hatred
and slavery." Her eyes shone fiercely. "They threaten to take Kofi
from me. They can do anything to us, to me and Birdie and Efia and Kofi. I must
do this for my son. For both of my sons."       

       "That
is the best of reasons." He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. 

       "Colin…"

       "Yes?"

       "I
lied to you..."

       He
lifted his heavy black eyebrows expectantly.

       "…about
not remembering what I was going to say."

       She
could see the question in his deep-set eyes.

       "I
wanted to say that I do fancy you."

       Colin
leaned in and pressed his cheek to hers.

She
breathed in his scent of leather and wood.

"The
spark is real?" he whispered into her ear.

       "Terribly."

       He
pulled back, held her chin between his thumb and forefinger, and searched her
smiling face. "I have made a decision…"

       She
steadily met his gaze, waiting for him to finish.

       "…I
will go with you up the James, to find Birdie's village."

       "Colin!
You make me so happy!" She yearned to wrap her arms around his neck, but
remembered his broken arm. She moved closer and put her hand on his cheek.