"And what will you give up for Lent, Jackass?" asks Davy as we make our way through the merrymakers on Plaza de San Francisco.
"Oh, probably good sense, caution, forbearance," I retort. "I'd like to give up chastity, but I guess that ain't gonna happen."
On our way into Ric's, I warn Davy and Tink, "Lads, Cisneros will probably show up here. No matter what he says and does to me, you must hold back." I squeeze both of their arms. "And you know why."
"What I don't know, Jacky," says Davy, "is why you're going to sing in this place tonight when you've already got a fortune in gold stashed in your hold?"
"Because, dear Davy," I say, poking my finger into the air, "for one, until that gold is safely delivered to Boston, where Ezra Pickering can safely dispose of it to our best ad vantage, we are no richer than we were before. Right now it is just simple dead-weight ballast to keep our ship upright in the waves, and that's all it is."
Davy just grunts at that.
"And two," I say, adding a finger to the first, "we are here to keep our ears open concerning the doings of the Spanish Navy. If the San Cristobal comes out and sinks us, we will get no joy from all that gold, as we will be drowned and dead. And three"—another finger joins the other two—"I like doing it. So there. Ah, here's Ric now."
Señor Ricardo Mendoza comes toward me, arms extended, great smile upon his face. "Nuestra cantante americana bonita, say you will sing for us tonight!"
"Of course, Señor Ric," I say, and take his hands and place a kiss upon his cheek. "And now a table if you would."
We are given a fine table in the middle of everything, just the way I like it, and good food and drink are brought and we lay to. Davy and Tink are dressed in their new nautical finery and are catching some admiring female glances. I notice that Tink has caught the notice of the girl serving our table—a black-haired beauty whose glossy ringlets dangle about her ivory oval of a face. Tink notices, too. Her lips are full and red, and there is a blush in her cheeks. Her eyes are modest and shy.
Right, I say to my ever-doubtful self, watching the play twixt the two. Real shy. Huh! I'll bet she scoped out Tink last time we were in and made sure she was assigned to this table. But, what the hell, she's a neat little piece, and Tink needs some female attention, so let's see what happens.
We eat, we drink, we sing, and, yes, we dance, too. Davy and I are up doing a spirited hornpipe to a tune expertly strummed and drummed by the house band when Lieutenant Cisneros and a small group of Spanish junior officers come in and take a table close to ours. He does not take his eyes off mine.
Davy and I finish up with a flourish, take a bow, accept the applause, and head back to our table. Tink has gone off with the girl—I see that they are hand in hand and deep in conversation in an alcove across the room—and as we settle back in at our table, I am not surprised to see Cisneros on his feet and heading for me.
"Steady, Davy," I say, putting my hand on his arm. "Why don't you go have a drink at the bar during this? It'd be best, trust me."
He doesn't look convinced, but he gets up, casts a cold look in Cisneros's direction, and leaves.
The Spanish Lieutenant comes up and stands next to me, looking down.
"Lieutenant," I say. "You are here for la mordida, and here it is. Now go away." I fling the little bag of coins against his chest, and it falls back onto the table. "Go give it to your Captain. Perhaps he will pat your head."
As I suspected, he does not go away, but instead sits down and snarls, "Cierre su boca, puta. Shut up and listen. We know you were diving off Cayo Hueso. We also know that there was a British warship anchored next to you for the past few weeks. What is going on?"
"I am but a sponge diver. You have your 'little bite' from the profits of my labors. Take it and go away."
"What business did the buque de guerra inglés have with you there?"
"Why did you not go out and ask them? Are you afraid? You have twice as many guns as the Dolphin. The English and the Spanish are enemies, I think."
His face darkens. "Believe me, if I were captain of the San Cristobal, that British boat would lie right now at the bottom of the sea, and I would spit on the graves of all who went down with it."
"You are such a sweet man, Cisneros," I say. "However, you might find it not so easy to sink a British frigate. They do, after all, have British sailors, and very expert British gunners. During an engagement, a lucky shot might even find your own fine hidalgo hide and lay it out flat."
"You haven't answered my question, puta. Why was that ship lying next to you?"
I give my head a toss. "The Captain of that ship and I have a ... friendship."
He looks incredulous. He points his finger at my forehead.
"The captain of a British frigate makes his ship wait at anchor while he takes a whore-of-a-sponge-diver? I do not think so."
"Men take their pleasure where they find it. Surely you know that, being something of a man yourself. Not much of a man, but something. And I can do other things than merely diving for sponges. Many other things. And I am told I am very good at those things."
His face turns a pleasing shade of purple, and I fear for the glass that he clutches in his hand.
"So. If you did those things for him, you will now do those things for me. There are rooms here, and I will take you there."
"No, you will not."
"And why not?"
" 'Cause I said so is why. And because you hurt those poor sailor boys just for talking to me and made me watch."
"Poor boys, pah! They needed a lesson and I gave it to them." His gaze grows hotter. "And I gave a lesson for you, too, muchacha."
"I can only hope that you, also, receive such a lesson someday. Although I do not take pleasure in such things, I will rejoice in watching."
It is too much for him. He reaches out and grabs me by the neck.
"You will do what I say, you—"
Then he looks up into the hard eyes of Davy, Tink, and Señor Ric, all of whom have been watching the proceedings. It is Señor Ric who says, "You know the rules, Señor. Patrons must not mishandle the señoritas. You must now leave my place."
Cisneros, furious, flings me back in my chair, releasing my neck.
"Do not think that this is over, girl," he says as he collects his men and stalks off. "No, it is not."
Davy and I head back to the Nancy to check on the reprovi-sioning and to rest up for the night's revels. Tink, however, stays at Ric's.
Chapter 42
I pick up El Gringo Furioso and take off his vest and stroke and smooth down his feathers. I put my hand around his neck and look into his beady little eyes and ask, "Are you ready, Gringo? You don't have to go if you don't want to."
He struggles in my grip and his eyes seem to say, "Yes. I want to go. Put me down. There's no one to fight here. Here's a peck for you and I hope it hurts. Now let's get on with it."
All right, Gringo, we will do that. But soon ... Not right now.
Daniel and Joannie are bustling around, neatening up things, and I think they're doing it 'cause they think Jemimah might be finishing up her latest Rabbit Tale. I got to admire how she manages to stretch these things out and get the most work out of the kids because of it.
"Pleeeease, Jemimah, we got everything put away—all the wood, all the food, all the—"
"All right, chil'ren, you can sit and listen," she says, casting a warning eye on the pair. "But you be good now, y'hear?" She clears her throat. "Now, you'll recall, when we left the Big Woods, Fox and Bear was down in the hole, lookin' at certain destruction, and Brother Rabbit had sent for his church-lady wife to come up and say some words over the two doomed Brothers.
"By and by, Sister Rabbit, her Bible under her arm, come hoppin' up the road, her rabbit child by her side.
"'Husband,' she says, when she sees Brother Rabbit. 'Just what is goin' on here?'
"'Jes' look over the side dere, Sister Wife,' says Brother Rabbit, pointin' down. 'What you see?'
"She look down the hole at the fox and the bear, who look back up at her. 'Look like two unrepentant sinners to me,' says Sister Rabbit, wrinklin' up her bunny nose and re-memberin' when these two particular sinners had her by the ears and were danglin' her over their pot of boilin' oil.
"'Dat's right,' says Brother Rabbit. 'And they's about to go off to dere reward, so's I suspects they be repentin' real fast, and we'uns was thinkin' dat it'd be good iffen you could say some Scripture over dem 'fore the mens come up and shoots 'em.'
"'Hmmm...,' says Sister Rabbit, and she open her Bible. 'Daniel in the lions' den would be good. Or how 'bout Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in the fiery furnace?'
"'They be good, but do the one about walkin' through de valley o' de shadow o' death,' says Brother Rabbit,' 'cause that be where dese ol' boys be strollin' real soon.'
"So, while the fox he growl and the bear he wail, Sister Rabbit reads out that Psalm.
"'Dere. I hope dat makes y'all feel better,' say the rabbit, grinnin' all over his face. He c*ck up one of his ears. 'Is dat the mens I hear comin'? Best get ready, Brothers. Best git right wit' God.'
"'Oh, please, Brother Rabbit, please get us outta here 'fore the mens come,' bawls the bear, tears rollin' out of his eyes, his front paws clasped together in supplication. 'I ain't yet ready to meet the Lord!'
"'Brother Bear,' growls the fox, glarin' hard at the rabbit, 'shut yo' mouth and save yo' breath. Dat damn rabbit couldn't get us out of here, anyhow.'
"'Oh, yes, I could get you out, Brothers,' say the rabbit. 'But I ain't gonna. I gots me a whole fam'ly o' little bunnies now, which you ain't never gonna get a chance to chomp on 'cause o' the fix you in. I gotta look out for dem. Got responsibilities. Myself, I'll prolly miss outrunnin' you two and alla time making you look like the fools you surely be.'
"'What if we promises to never lay tooth nor claw on no rabbit ever again?' asks the fox. 'Will you get us out den?'
"Rabbit think hard on this. 'Hmmm ... What you think, Sister Wife?'
"'If they swears on this here Bible, Brother Husband. And if they promises to come to church on Sunday mornin's and meetin' on Wednesday evenin's from now on. Reverend W. Crane was just sayin' yesterday that he was mighty concerned about these boys' spiritual growth.' Sister Rabbit sure enjoyin' the fun, too.
"'Oh, pleeeease!' wails Brother Bear.
"'All right,' agrees the rabbit. 'Pass 'em down the Good Book, Sister, but be careful.'
"Brother Fox gets on Brother Bear's shoulders and reaches up, and Sister Rabbit leans way over the edge with Brother Rabbit holdin' on tight to her little white cottontail so's she don't fall down in the pit, and so the Bible is passed.
"'All right, boys! Now testify!' crows the rabbit.
"And the fox and the bear put their paws on the Book and makes the promises.
"'Now, you brothers know if y'all break yore promises,' says Sister Rabbit, 'you'll roast in Hell fo'ever and ever? Good. Now throw me back my Bible, and my good man will get you out o' dere, won't you, honey?'