I had a suspicion Jemimah would be back, 'cause I had noticed she'd left her apron hanging on a hook next to the stove, which apron she now takes down and wraps around herself. I had the feeling that she went off just to prove it to herself that she actually could. And now she knows.
"Also I gotta keep an eye on these two young'uns else they gonna go bad, you know they will," she continues. "And you, girl, you could stand some watchin', too. Here I come back and find you crucifyin' chickens. What's with that?"
I still have Pepino-on-a-stick in my hand.
"This look like some of that hoodoo—that conjure stuff. Shouldn't be messin' with that, you."
I hand the dead chicken off to Daniel, who unfastens the strings, takes a kitchen knife from the rack, and begins dressing the bird. Joannie shoves a few more sticks of wood into the stove to get it going good and puts the kettle of water on top.
Jemimah steps away from the stove and goes to the other end of the mess table. I get the feeling she wants to talk with me out of the kids' hearing, so I follow her.
"Nice dress," I say.
"Yup. Bought me some nice stuff, stayed in a good hotel, had me a fine bath with perfumed soap, and ate some good food that was cooked by someone other than me for a change."
"So you like the high life, Jemimah? So do I. Stick with us and maybe you'll enjoy some more of it."
She considers for a moment and then says, "Right, it's fine. But that ain't it, girl. That ain't it at all." She pauses. "I know you lookin' for gold down there under that water."
"That's right, Jemimah. I hope you didn't say anything about that when you were ashore."
"One t'ing a slave knows is when to keep that slave's mouth shut. I ain't said nothin' to nobody."
"That's good, Jemimah, 'cause there're ears everywhere and some people around are suspicious about us and what we're doin'."
"You find that gold, what I get? 'Fore you said somethin' about shares..."
"Right. Here's how it works: After a voyage, we total up what we have made and split it up this way—Faber Shipping, which is me, gets half right off the top. I gotta pay for the upkeep of the boat and buying supplies and meet the payroll for the crew's regular pay. Plus I gotta pay my lawyer who, because of my ways, is generally kept pretty busy. The other half of the take is divided up into shares. Mr. Higgins gets three shares and Mr. Tanner two. One share for each for the seamen, a quarter share for each of the kids, and a half share for you. After you've been with us for a while, you'll be moved up to a full share."
"So if the boat get a t'ousand, I get..."
"At a half share..." I say, calculating in my head, "about thirty dollars, above your usual pay."
"Umm ... And how much you t'ink is down there?"
"A lot more than a thousand, Jemimah," I say. "A lot more ... 'Course King George gets first dibs 'cause his men is sorta in charge of this expedition. But there should be enough to go around."
"Umm. Why this King git you to do all this—a little scrap of a girl like you what should be fussin' about in crinolines and tryin' to git herself married off?"
" 'Cause he'll hang me and cause trouble for my friends if I don't doit."
"Huh! Caught 'tween the Devil and the whippin' post, you."
"Just so, Jemimah."
"All right," she says, turning to go back to the stove. "I'll go with that. Let's see what happens."
"You want the money to buy other fine things, Jemimah?" I don't blame her for that. I like fine things, too.
She pauses on her way back to her duties. "No, that ain't it," she says. "If I get enough money put t'gether I want to buy back my kids. As many of 'em as I can find. And the only way I see to do that is t'rough you."
Oh.
"All right, you two," Jemimah says, back at her station in front of the stove, "you got that chicken ready?"
"Oh, yes, Auntie, now tell us how Brother Rabbit got out of that pot!" demands Joannie.
The warrior Pepino has been stripped of his worldly raiment and has been cut up and put in the gumbo pot. Least he didn't suffer the indignity of having his lifeless corpse dragged three times around the walls of Troy behind the chariot of his killer, Achilles, like poor Hector. But in the way of indignities, it was close. Sic transit gloria mundi.
"All right, children, listen close," says Jemimah. "Now ol' Brother Rabbit, he be sittin' in that pot and it be gettin' warmer and warmer such that he can't touch the bottom of the pot with his foot no more, so he got to be thinkin' about what he got to do to get out of this fix he in."
She gives the gumbo pot a stir with her long spoon. She says nothing for a while, then Daniel pops up with: "Auntie, how come Brother Fox and Brother Bear didn't gut and skin Brother Rabbit before they put him in the pot, like I just done with that chicken?"
" 'Cause that ain't how the story goes, boy," retorts Jemimah. "Don't you know nothin' about stories?" Daniel sits back, abashed.
After a decent interval to build up the tension, Jemimah goes on.
"Brother Fox, he be dicin' up some carrots and yams and tossin' the pieces in the broth around Brother Rabbit and the rabbit he be eatin' 'em up just as fast as the fox be t'rowin' 'em in.
"'You stop dat,' says Brother Fox. 'Them ain't fer you. Them is for de broth.'
"'You gonna get 'em one way or t'other,' says Brother Rabbit, 'whether in my belly or in the stew.'
"'Dat's true,' says Brother Bear, who's leanin' his nose over the pot to breathe in the smell of hot rabbit and yams. 'Ummm, uh! Smells mighty fine t'me! Gonna be a fine, fine day!'"
Jemimah gives the pot another stir. She calls it the gumbo pot. Up in Boston, we called it hunter's stew, and in France it's called pot-au-feu. Every culture's got a version and they're all the same—a pot that's kept simmering on the stovetop, and anything that comes along that's at all edible goes into it.
I hear Higgins calling me from above and I prepare to go, but I do linger a bit as Jemimah goes on...
"'Brother Rabbit, things gettin' a bit warm for you in dere?' asks Brother Fox, shaking some salt and pepper over Brother Rabbit's head and dancing around the cauldron.
"'No, Brother Fox, it's jes' fine...'cept fo' one thing...'
"'And what's dat, Brother Rabbit?'"
Another pause on Jemimah's part. Silence from the kids.
"'Brother Fox, you gone hafta change this here broth,' says the rabbit.
"'Why dat? Getting too hot for you? Hee-hee.'
"'No, Brother Fox ... It's 'cause I just peed in it.'"
Daniel and Joannie fall to the deck, convulsed with laughter as I leave the galley. I shall have to find out later just how the wily Brother Rabbit got out of that one. He seems to be a kindred spirit.
Higgins is already dressed in a lightweight white linen suit, and he gets me quickly into my white Paris Empire dress. We picked it 'cause it seems to fit in better in this place, where the women wear similar long, flowing dresses, full on the bottom and low-cut up topside. I put on one of my more modest hairpieces and, with the mantilla over it, I become a proper Spanish lady, or as close to proper as I can get.
That done, we go out onto the dock, where Higgins hands me up into an open coach that stands waiting for us. Good old Higgins. The driver clucks at the horses and we are off into the city of Havana.
Daniel and Joannie have been given some pay and will be allowed off the ship this afternoon, after Jemimah is satisfied they have done all their chores. They have been told to be good and they had better be. I am severe in my warning, but secretly I am so glad that Joannie is going to survive her wounds that I really don't care whether or not she behaves. The Doctor says the bindings on her rib cage can come off tomorrow and I know she'll be grateful for that.
As for John Thomas and Smasher McGee, they disappeared shortly after seeing all the stores brought aboard. I don't expect to see them till the day after tomorrow, when we sail to rendezvous with the Dolphin, but they have never yet missed a sailing, so I shan't worry about them. Not much, anyway.
The Doctor is still off visiting his scientific cronies. He took with him the leather portfolio of my latest drawings and I allow myself a little whiff of the sin of pride.
Jim Tanner, Davy, and Tink have been given sufficient money so as to be fitted for proper suits of clothes. Though I think all three look ever so cute in their striped shirts and tight-across-the-butt white canvas pants, there are times when one should dress up ... like tonight, at Ric's. Plus I know both Clementine and Annie will be very pleased to see their lads lookin' like fine gentlemen.
Hmmm, on that score I am reminded that I must do something in the way of finding female companionship for Tink, of which he has none now. A good girl, it must be, before he falls in with some slattern of low character who would take advantage of his good nature. He is a good-looking lad, with his curly black hair and easy smile, and could easily fall prey to somesuch. I know he's shy about his leg, but it has been getting better. He no longer uses the crutch and now walks with only a slight limp. Dr. Sebastian is of the opinion that other muscles in that leg have taken up the functions that the destroyed muscles formerly performed. We will hope and we shall see.
Yes, the three of them are off for new clothes. 'Course, I shall dock their pay for the cost of all that, but I think they shall thank me for it. Well, maybe, someday they will ... But right now, Higgins and I are off on our jaunt.
We clatter down the street and along the docks and past many vast shipyards. We had no trouble resupplying our stove wood because of leavings from Havana's mighty shipbuilding industry—the largest in the New World. In fact, the world's biggest warship, the Santisima Trinidad, was built here. Right over there, probably. She was about two hundred and fifty feet long, had four decks and one hundred forty-four cannons. One hundred and forty-four! The Dolphin, which is a pretty fearsome ship, carries only forty-four, and the Wolverine a scant twenty-six. Yes, the Santisima was a glorious sight, all right, when I saw her from the deck of that same Wolverine at Trafalgar, and I saw her go down, too, with many men aboard, sunk by ships much less glorious than she. Again, sic transit gloria comes to mind, a phrase I should remember when I get above myself, which happens sometimes.
We leave the docks and head through the market area and come out into a large open plaza at the end of which sits a large church.
"That is the Catedral de la Habana," points out Higgins. "Is it not magnificent?"
"Yes, it is quite grand," I agree. "Well, sort of grand. After all, I have stood in the nave of the Cathedral Notre Dame de Paris, and all pales next to that. Saint Paul's in London ain't no small potatoes, neither."
"Well," sniffs Higgins. "Did our blasé world traveler know that the bones of Christopher Columbus rest right there in that very church?"
I express mild surprise.
"Yes, some of us have been improving our minds and acquainting ourselves with the works and wonders of other cultures, while others have been frequenting cockfights and low dives."
"Ric's ain't a low dive. It's quite elegant. Come with us tonight and you'll see."
"Very well, I will."