2. Voices in the Night

TWO

voices in the night

"Bethie, are you all right?" I turn, finding my father sitting next to me. He's wearing the same clothes as the last time I saw him.

"Daddy?" I whisper. "How are you here?"

His warm smile brings tears to my eyes. "I'm always here, Bethie." He uses the nickname he gave me as an infant. "Are ya healthy?"

The tears escape, running down my cheeks. "I am. Daddy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"I know, Bethie," he answers. "I know, my love."

"Elsbeth!" Charles's voice echoes in my ear. "Something's wrong!"

It takes a few minutes to get my bearings and leave the dream. "Charles? What are you talking about?"

"Bertram's breathing weird. I don't know what to do."

I turn toward my youngest brother, realizing his head is on Charles's lap. His breathing is shallow, he's soaking wet, and his skin is pale. "When was the last time he ate?" I ask.

Charles shrugs. "I don't know. I don't even know the last time I ate."

"He needs food and water. I've seen him like this before." An older woman in the village once told my mother that he had a sugar sickness. When he was a baby, he would have attacks often. As he grew, they became less frequent. I stand, moving toward the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To find food." I look up, realizing Mama and the rest of our family are still sleeping. "I'll be back soon."

"I'll go," Charles moves to stand.

"No. I'm smaller and will blend into the shadows. Stay with Bert."

He nods. "Hurry."

The sounds of snoring echo through the hallway as I make my way toward the main deck. I'm relieved to find it empty. The full moon illuminates the wooden floorboards as the waves lap gently against the sides of the ship. I take a minute to appreciate the beauty in front of me. I've lived near the sea my entire life, but this is the first time I've been surrounded by nothing but water.

Laughter behind me draws my attention back to the present. "Food for Bertram," I remind myself.

Light shines onto the deck from an open window not far from the helm. I move closer, hearing what sounds like a game of some sort between a group of men. "Play the damn card, Cap'n," a deep voice bellows. "We all know it ain't nothin' good." Loud laughter echoes through the room.

The sound of something slapping against wood brings a roar of laughter from the crowd inside. "Oh, look," a voice I recognize from earlier says. "I did have a good hand." The men continue laughing as the sound of coins being moved around follows. "Get some rest, gentlemen. Something tells me this is going to be a long trip."

The door opens, giving me enough time to slide into the shadows and watch as a small handful of men exit the room. Most appear drunk and are too busy trying to walk upright to notice me.

I wait until the men are no longer in sight before moving toward the still opened door. A small candelabra is glowing, filling the room with light. In the corner is what I need. What looks like a half-eaten loaf of bread is sitting next to an apple and orange. My stomach growls at the sight.

I'm not sure where Captain Rex went, but the room is empty. I move as quietly as possible inside and straight to the table holding the food. A large napkin sits near the bread. I shove the apple and orange into my apron pocket, before wrapping what's left of the bread inside the napkin.

I turn, expecting someone to be there, and thankfully, discover the room is still empty. Moving toward the table, I find a pitcher full of liquid. I doubt it contains water, but Bertram needs something to drink.

"I didn't peg you for a heavy drinker," the voice I recognize as Captain Rex's says from behind me.

I turn, facing the large man. The coat he was wearing earlier is off, along with his shirt, revealing parts of a man I've never seen before. My eyes betray me, taking in every peak and valley of his chest, down to the waistband of the loose-fitting pants he's wearing.

"It's not for me," I answer, not sure what else to say.

"Who's it for?"

"My brother. He's ill. He needs food and drink."

Captain Rex moves into the room. "Don't give him what's in that container. Let me get you water. I have some back here." He turns, leaving me alone.

I don't know whether to run or follow. I choose neither and stay put. He's back less than a minute later with a crock full of liquid. "Here. This is clean. Is there anything else you need?"

"Food," I answer truthfully. My family is hungry and hasn't eaten in a few days."

He nods toward a box on the other side of the room. "Take what you need."

The tigereye wooden cabinet opens easily. Inside, I find an uncut loaf of bread, along with several more apples. "Are you sure?"

"Of course. I could never eat all of that. Take what you need." I feel his eyes on my back as I take the bread and enough fruit for each child to have their own.

"Thank you, Captain."

"Please, call me Thorne."

I bow slightly. "Thank you, Thorne."

"Aye, it's my pleasure. Please feel free to get food for them anytime you need it." I stare, not sure if this is some sort of trick or genuine kindness. "If you should need anything, Miss Abernathy, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Elsbeth," I remind him. "My name is Elsbeth."

"Elsbeth," he repeats. My name flows from his lips.

"Thank you, Thorne." I turn, moving toward the door without looking back.

Back in the stateroom, I hand the loaf of bread to Charles, along with the water Thorne sent. "Help me get some of this food into Bertram. It will make him feel better."

Charles spends several minutes breaking the bread into small pieces, while I peel the skin off an orange. Manually opening Bertram's mouth, I squeeze the juice inside. Seconds later, he begins to lick his lips. "He's coming around," Charles announces.

"What's going on?" Bertram mumbles, looking around confused.

"You needed food," I answer. "Can you sit up?"

"I…I think so." He slides his back to the wall, holding onto my shoulder. "My head hurts. "

"Eat this," Charles says, handing him a few pieces of bread. "See if it helps."

Bertram follows directions, closing his eyes afterward. "I'm thirsty."

"Here." Charles guides our brother's hand to the cup of water, helping him lift it to his lips. A few small sips later, his eyes close, and his breathing has returned to normal.

"How do you feel?" I ask.

"Better. Thank you."

"What's going on?" Mama's sleepy voice whispers.

Bertram shakes his head without speaking. I know without asking, he doesn't want Mama to worry. "We couldn't sleep," I answer. "We're just talking about our life in Charles Town."

Mama stares at us for a few minutes before seemingly accepting my answer. "Get some rest, Mama," Charles adds. "Everything is fine."

I don't enjoy lying to our mother, but I understand Bertram's reasoning. With Daddy's death leaving barely enough money to survive, she's been forced to move our family halfway around the world. She's under enough pressure without adding the worry of Bertram to it.

"Where'd you get food?" Bert asks. His voice sounds more like himself as he eats a few more pieces of bread.

"I found it," I lie. Technically, I did find it. Untechnically, it was given to me after I found it. "There's enough for you to eat." I hand a piece to Charles .

"Are you sure? The little ones need to eat first."

"There's plenty. Besides, I know where to find more if we need it." My mind flashes back to Captain Rex…Thorne as he asked me to call him.

Charles takes a few bites, closing his eyes after. "God, this tastes amazing."

Bertram and Charles fall back to sleep quickly, while I sit with my back to the door, listening to the chorus of sounds created by the wooden ship. The vessel creaks and moans its way through the water, bringing comfort with its movement. With all the questions flying through my mind and the stifling heat of our stateroom, there's no way I'll be able to go back to sleep. I need fresh air and time to think.

I crack the door enough to crawl into the narrow hallway. The fresh air hits me the moment I'm outside. For the first time in a few days, I take time to breathe.

Other than a few sleeping sailors, the deck is clear of people and distractions. A gust of wind lifts the few strands of hair that escaped my hastily made bun. Moving to the head of the ship, I stand, overlooking the water below. Even with the sails down and no one at the helm, the ship continues to move slowly through the water. What if we sail off course?

I move as high as possible, giving me a full view of the dark water surrounding the ship. The full moon provides enough light to illuminate the small waves.

Breathing the clean air into my lungs is just what I need. Several breaths later, the fog that's been hiding in my head, lifts slightly. "Hello," a voice whispers into the wind. I turn, finding the deck empty behind me. The hairs on my arm stand at attention.

Peering into the water below, I search for a small vessel that could be the source of the sound, finding nothing.

"You're a beautiful one," it continues. "Such lovely hair and eyes." The voice seems to be carried by the wind. I step down, moving away from the railing. "Don't go," it whispers.

Stepping backward, I move away from the edge toward the middle of the main deck. "Elsbeth, there's nothing out there. You're tired and hungry, and your imagination is getting the best of you," I say out loud, hoping to provide comfort.

"Elsbeth," the voice whispers from the sea. "What a beautiful name…"

I shuffle backward, refusing to turn my back toward the voice. Every inch of my body is on alert. This is something I don't have a name for—that terrifies me. I continue shuffling backward, working my way toward the door to the stateroom. With my back pressed against the wall, I peer into the sea, not sure if I've lost my mind, or just on the verge of it.

The door to the captain's quarters opens, revealing the man who saved my brother. He steps into the fading moonlight.

"Good morning, Captain," I whisper .

"Elsbeth, is everything okay?" He moves in front of me.

"I…I don't know. I heard…" I stop before saying more than I should.

"You heard something?"

Shaking my head. "It must have been the wind." I smooth the wrinkles on my skirt, taking a few minutes to get my thoughts together. "I'm sorry to have bothered you."

"You haven't bothered me. I was beginning my day." He steps toward the helm, unwrapping the rope holding the wheel into place. "This is my favorite time of the day. Everything feels fresh and new." He takes a deep breath, mimicking mine from earlier. "Up here, you can see the sun beginning to rise over the horizon."

"I'm sure it's lovely," I answer, unsure of where this conversation is heading.

"Join me." He reaches his hand toward me, offering to help me onto the pedestal. Refusing his help, I grab ahold of the base of the wheel and pull myself to the top. Thorne chuckles at my stubbornness.

"Stand here." He steps away from the wheel, giving me space to move. I do as he suggests and am met with the first light of the morning sun.

"It is beautiful," I whisper.

"Aye. See that way?" He points north. "If you look carefully, the sun will reflect off the ice that sticks out from the sea."

"Ice?"

"Aye, icebergs. Large enough to sink a vessel of this size." He points ahead of us. "This way is America."

I turn toward my tour guide. "Have you been there before? America, I mean."

"Once, when I was a boy but never as a Captain."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but what if you're heading in the wrong direction?"

Thorne laughs, sending chill bumps over my skin. "I have my tools." He holds up something I recognize from books.

"A sextant," I interrupt.

His eyebrows raise at my words. "Not many people know what a sextant is."

I shrug. "I read as much as possible before we left home."

"Here." He hands me the contraption that I've only read about. "Look through?—"

"I know how to use it," I interrupt. Putting it to my eye, I line the mirror up with the horizon. Other than the basics of how to use it, I don't know what I'm looking at. I hand it back to him, trying not to seem obvious.

Thorne doesn't seem annoyed at what Mama calls my "independent streak." It's one of the reasons I've made it to nearly twenty years old without being married. In the village where we live, most girls are married or at least betrothed by thirteen or fourteen. I close my eyes, wishing the memory away.

"How is your brother?" he asks .

"Better. Thank you." Turning my head toward the rising sun, I take one last breath. "Thank you for bringing me up here. You were right. This is the most beautiful time of the day." The energy between us suddenly feels awkward, warming my cheeks and giving me a reason to escape quickly. "I need to go check on my family. Thank you again, Thorne."

"You're welcome, Elsbeth." I feel his eyes on me as I make my way to the door that leads into the sweltering stateroom that houses my family.