* * * *
The La-Di-Da
A year earlier…
Denny wasn’t sure when Fortunata first became aware of the growing, gentle romance between Denny and Merritt, but he was convinced that she sensed it. She took to making sure the two men had little time alone together. The few private moments they shared were spent uttering words and sharing kisses Denny had never exchanged with anyone, especially another man. He’d had plenty of sex, but had never dared lay his soul bare with another. The times he and Merritt were together and unable to touch were agony for both of them. As soon as Fortunata or whoever was with them would leave, Merritt would whisper, “Kiss me, please.”
His hands would shake and his lips would tremble as they shared soul embraces Denny had never dreamed were possible. He began to have vivid dreams of a life he’d never allowed himself, a kind of happiness he’d imagined would always be denied him because of his sexual preferences. He made no secret of his homosexuality, but didn’t flaunt it either.
They’d been at sea two weeks when Merritt started walking on deck. His first attempts were pathetic, by his own admission. Denny admired his sense of humor and determination. The entire crew was stunned by his marked improvements.
“I’m a better doctor than I thought,” Fellows kept telling everyone.
Whenever he went on this way, Fortunata glared at him. Denny put it down to sheer possessiveness. She loved Merritt with such an obsession that it continued to scare Denny. When she would turn around and be sweet to him again, he’d experience extreme feelings of guilt for being suspicious of her.
As the days went by and Merritt grew stronger, he wanted to help with ship duties. Nobody would let him, but everybody admired his fighting spirit. It turned out he was an expert mapmaker, but told Denny that when the boat he’d shared with his sister and two cousins had been hijacked, all his maps and tools had been destroyed.
Denny showed him a map of the Caribbean, hoping Merritt could show him his island home off the coast of Honduras. Merritt just smiled. “It’s not on any map,” he said, not even glancing at Denny’s well-marked papers. “But trust me, it’s there. Doriana is a paradise.”
Denny stared at him. Fortunata had called the island Soriano, but Merritt called it Doriana. Were they both…cuckoo? Or had Denny misheard her the first time Fortunata mentioned it?
He leaned toward the latter. After all, they’d been under extreme survival conditions and the two names were close. Weren’t they? And yet, questions persisted and niggled at him.
Merritt was a hearty eater who endured plates of raw peppers and slightly cooked broccoli with a stoic air. Fellows had done some research in the musty old textbooks he’d inherited when the crew had taken over the ship. He told Denny and Merritt that doctors prescribed the addition of fried seal meat to a scurvy patient’s diet, but the idea horrified both Merritt and Denny.
“I’m fine with everything I’m already eating. Honest!” Merritt insisted.
“But seals are delicious,” Fellows said, clearly disappointed. He gave Denny a bleak look that might have said, ‘First no leeches. Now this.’
With Merritt’s improved health, shipboard dinners became entertaining affairs with different crewmembers performing each night. Fortunata had a wonderful voice and sang beautiful, haunting love songs, but nothing beat Merritt’s plaintive
Oh, Tell Me How from Love to Fly
. Denny thought he was listening to an angel.
“
Oh, tell me how from love to fly, its dangers how to shun. To guard the heart, to shield the eye, or I must be undone!”
Merritt sang the lyrics with a soul-tearing heartbreak that left everyone silent. He seemed to be staring right at Denny, who glanced away when Fortunata narrowed her gaze and glared at him.
Rigby was in the mood for laughter and began singing the rousing chorus from
Drunken Sailor
. He would have gone on until morning screaming, “
What shall we do with the drunken sailor?
” over and over again. He would have knocked back more shots of rum, had he not got kicked by one of the crewmen and keeled over in the midst of laughter. He had then fallen into a merciful, silent sleep. Denny and Fellows carried him to his cabin, Merritt and Fortunata right behind them. From the sounds of muted laugher, the others had continued drinking in comparative quiet.
“Is he always like that?” Fortunata asked with a haughty air, staring daggers at the snoozing Rigby.
“One sniff of the barmaid’s skirt and he’s impossible.” Fellows rolled his eyes.
“Well, we wish you goodnight,” Fortunata responded.
Merritt echoed her words, his gaze fastened on Denny. His sister pulled him by the arm, leading him away. Denny and Fellows paused for breath. Fellows huffed as they dragged Rigby to the quarterdeck, where he lived with the other ship’s officers.
As they pulled off Rigby’s boots and outer garments, Rigby unleashed a sort of mad giggle and sang, “
What do we do with
…” before falling asleep again in the middle of the chorus.
“Is it just me or does he pong?” Fellows’ nose twitched.
“Aye, he needs a bath,” Denny agreed, sliding into an immediate panic.
Fellows scrunched his nose and gave a shudder. “How does he breathe in his own fumes?”
Denny shrugged, privately fretting. What if he himself needed a bath? He raced to his cabin to bathe before going to visit Merritt to wish him a goodnight. Cold water and soap from a basin was a small improvement, especially when he rinsed out the water three times until it almost ran clear, but he felt he needed something more, especially since he was putting back on the same clothing. He tiptoed back to Rigby’s cabin where his second mate was snoring in bed like a hibernating bear. Denny borrowed Rigby’s proudest purloined item in life, a bottle of the French perfumer Farina’s
Eau de Cologne
. It had belonged to a British officer whose private quarters had been ransacked by Denny and his crew when his sloop had been moored at the Port of Antwerp in Belgium.
The cologne had a distinctive, pungent scent. People said that Napoleon loved the stuff.
Wait. He didn’t exactly have a happy ending…
As Denny dabbed a bit on his face and under his armpits, worried thoughts crossed his mind.
Yeah, but look what happened to him
. People also said the cologne came from the town where the water was supposed to be strong enough to ward off the bubonic plague.
I hope so. Not that I’m expecting to get that any time soon. Not getting bitten by any rats today, thank you…
He returned the bottle to Rigby’s cabin then went back to his own quarters, checking his appearance in the cracked hand mirror he’d pinched in the raid on the British sloop. Denny thought he looked okay, though his head itched something fierce. Then his chin prickled. Denny scratched at it, dismayed because it seemed that the finer things in life just weren’t meant for him. The sensation grew worse so he washed his face and head, his hair still dripping a little as he went off to visit Merritt.
Merritt was still sleeping in the sickbay even though he had most of his meals with the others. He lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, bolting upward when Denny entered the room.
“She’s coming back,” Merritt whispered. He sniffed the air. “What’s that smell?” His eyes widened. “Why did you come here wearing cologne? You can’t even kiss me now. She’ll know!” The desolate expression on his face did more for Denny’s self-esteem than all the kisses in the world.
He likes me. He really does
. Denny did an inward jig. “’Tis no matter. I wanted to see you. Where did she go?”
Merritt kept sniffing. “You’ve bathed.” He looked surprised.
“Um, yeah.” Denny frowned.
Boy, I must have needed it worse than I thought.
Merritt plumped up his pillows so that he was half sitting and half lying back on his bunk. “She’s in her cabin mixing some herbal concoction for me. They always taste terrible but they do work.”
Denny was afraid to ask what was in these concoctions and he hoped she wasn’t planning on coming back anytime soon, but seconds later she was there. She smiled when she saw that Denny was nowhere near her brother.
“Ah, Captain,” she said, her tone a warm purr.
Boy, does she know how to manipulate and charm me. Calling me captain…
“I would have brought you a tonic had I known you’d be here.” She turned to her brother. “Drink up, darling. This will soothe your liver.”
Merritt sat up straighter and took the cup she offered him. Denny stared at it. It looked as though it was made of gold. Where had she found it? She’d come on board the La-Di-Da with nothing. Or had she?
I have to get into her cabin and look at the stuff she’s using to mix her potions.
Denny loitered for a few minutes but finally excused himself. He returned to his cabin, exhausted. Stripping off most of his clothes, he kept his vest and undergarments on then threw himself into bed. The ship’s cat, Theodore, came out from under the bed and joined him. Denny loved that cat more than anyone or anything else in the world, except Merritt, and he let the orange tabby snuggle beside him. Theodore was a funny cat. He wasn’t particularly affectionate but liked snuggling and would purr for half an hour upon close contact with Denny.
I think I do the same thing with Merritt, come to think of it.
Within minutes, Denny was asleep but also aware of strange, unsettling dreams that left him restless in bed. He was aware of the cabin door opening and, unable to open his eyes for some reason, realized it was Merritt getting into bed with him. Theodore was not pleased, but soon, with Merritt stroking his fur, the cat purred loudly. The sound would have been a fine early-warning alarm.
“He never lets me touch him,” Denny murmured, trying hard to rouse himself awake, but he couldn’t.
Merritt chuckled then leaned across the cat and kissed Denny’s cheek. He spooned Denny, rubbed his head until Denny fell asleep, the cat kept purring between them.
Denny had the most beautiful dreams of his life but awakened early only to find Merritt and the cat leaving the cabin. Denny couldn’t say anything about Merritt. He was obviously worried about his sister finding his empty bed. But the cat! What a little traitor! Denny got out of bed and, for the first time ever aboard ship, took stock of his dirty clothes and realized all of them were filthy. His biggest single regret had been to eliminate the laundry detail on board the La-Di-Da. It had become everybody’s personal responsibility to care for their own clothing. Some of the crew liked to drag their clothes through the ocean water, or wait for the times they docked in port. They were running low on everything, including tanks of water, so they couldn’t arrive in Puerto Rico soon enough, except… If Merritt and his sister left the ship, as was Fortunata’s plan, then Denny would never see him again.
He swallowed over the lump in his throat and scratched his head. He’d been all right through the night, but now the itching was worse. He tugged at his scalp and felt something moving. He jumped in fright when a knock came at the door.
“Yes?” he called out.
It was Sorenson. He entered the cabin, rubbing at his own head. “Sorry, sir, but Arthur Fellows wants to see you. He says we have a bad case of nits on board and everyone needs their head shaved.”
“Thank you,” Denny said.
Nits
. Well. It was better than the plague. Up on the deck, Denny found everyone shaving each other’s heads. The only one who wouldn’t submit was Fortunata.
“I drink a tonic. I have no nits and neither does my brother,” she said, stomping below deck with Merritt in tow.
Nobody said a word and from the apprehensive looks on everyone’s faces, Denny saw that he wasn’t the only one who was terrified of her.
Later that day, Denny returned to the laundry to retrieve a few of the things he’d left there to dry. Sorenson and Rigby were there whispering to each other.
“What’s going on?” Denny asked them as the two men exchanged dark looks.
“The tanks were near empty this morning and now they’re full,” Rigby said. “Funny things happen whenever
she’s
in a room.”
It didn’t surprise Denny to hear this. He shrugged. “Well, we are still a few days away from Puerto Rico, so let’s not look gift horses in mouths, shall we?”
Neither Rigby nor Sorenson seemed happy, but Denny determined not to start rumors and unpleasantness even if he was beginning to suspect Fortunata of some kind of sorcery. If she practiced her…whatever it was…for the greater good, he could deal with a little magic, as long as she didn’t put warts on his nose or boils on his bottom. He had a feeling that in spite of how nice she sometimes could be, she would be the type of person to resort to petty vengeance. And Denny loathed boils and warts.
For two days, Fortunata was so lovely, Denny’s worries about her seemed unfounded. He was delighted she was being so nice to him. It made Merritt happy. In fact, Fortunata complimented Denny and even flirted with him. She made him porridge on the third day, and the little black dots decorating the surface turned out to be plump little raisins.
“But where did you get them?” Denny asked, moaning in appreciation as he demolished three bowls of porridge.