Post by Kayla Storm on Jun 2, 2012 12:22:31 GMT -5
1792, March 5th, London
The market was busy, as it was every Wednesday. The stalls were alive with chatter. Salesmen screaming their prices, children running around and shrieking, and a few stray dogs were sneaking towards different foods, occasionally jumping up and stealing a roll or a piece of meat. I sniffed the air, and the mixed smells of London filled my lungs. I could smell the salt of the sea, the sharp stench of Tabaco, and almost taste the glorious fruit. “Ally!” Mark hissed impatiently. “Stop yer dreaming and come on!” His voice sounded scared, almost begging me to listen. It caused me to run after him, like a little sister would trot after her big brother. We had always joked that Mark was my adopted brother. Though, I guess it should’ve been the other way around, since Mark really had a family and I didn’t. I lived with an old sailor, who had found me inside an abandoned sea chest on the harbor’s edge. I had been wet through and deathly sick, but the dear old soul had taken me in. I snapped out of my daydream and hurried after him. Any fool could see Mark was worried, and anxious. He was rarely disturbed, so I knew it was serious. I also knew it had something to do with me. I ran after him, almost tripping over my skirts. Ladies should not run, but I wasn’t exactly raised to be a lady.
Benjamin Gregory had already retired when he had found the abandoned sea chest. He had never told, but the chest was really fished out of the ocean, bobbing on the waves. Someone had thrown a baby into the sea, to drown. Or perhaps, it had been an accident… Though no-one ever knew which, and he hardly discussed the options with anyone. It was his own little secret, meant to be kept safe from the child. Although he was alone in life, no wife and no children to help, Ben had a lot of friends to help him raise the delicate baby christened Alison Margaret Gregory, or Ally for short. But it was many years later when Ally was almost thirteen, that he had his attack. Many years of salt and rum had made his heart weak, and his attack had come whilst his old friend, Marks mother, was visiting. Mark had run to fetch Ally from the market, but when she reached the old sea cottage, it was too late.
“I am a might sorry, Ally.” Mrs. Stokes said softly, her thick London accent filled with emotion. I stood at Ben’s bedside, to stunned to speak. Mark was standing awkwardly at my side, struggling for words.
“Yeah, we all are, Al. A might sorry we all are.”
I gulped, but could not bring myself to look at the faces in the room, though they were all filled with compassion. Mr. Balk was there, an old sailor friend of Ben, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Finch, Mr. Clifford, and Mrs. Thomas. All of them were old family friends, and all of them had helped raise me. There was again a stretch of silence, but not a awkward silence as it had been with Mark. It was a silence that seemed to show respect to the kindhearted sailor, lying as if asleep, on his bed. It was Mr. Clifford, the tenderhearted milkman, who spoke first.
“Ye know, Al, we’ve all been a’ wondering… what ye gonna do now? You know ye always have a home with us, but ye need to say which one.”
I lifted my eyes slightly, facing them all now. Before I could muster an answer, the old apple saleswoman Mrs. Thomas, said:
“Aye, now Charlie. It ain’t the right time to bring that up, is it?”
“There ain’t ever gonna be a right time.” There was a murmur of agreement. Mrs. Thomas took my arm, and turned me around. She looked into my eyes searchingly.
“You a brave missy, Ally. Ye real brave. Ye not shed a tear yet.” I nodded, and finally mustered a response.
“Expect I will soon. But what’s done is done. Ben was old, and I knew he wouldn’t live forever.” It was true. I reminded myself through the years that life was unfair, and if it was kind to anyone, I shouldn’t expect it to be kind to me. For some reason, I never acquired the Londoners’ way of speaking, and as I continued to speak, my accent wasn’t nearly as heavy as theirs. “As for what I am to do, I don’t know. I love all of you; you can’t expect me to choose. Anyways, Ben always says, I mean said,” I paused before continuing, “He always said I had too much pride. I could never stay with you.” There were a few nods of understanding, if there was one thing Ben had taught his treasure, it was the Gregory family pride. Again, there was silence, and I gazed at the bed. “Please…. Can’t we cover him with something?” I asked. When Mrs. Thomas made a move to do so, chocking on my tears and fled.
CHAPTER 2
I sat on a cargo crate, letting the sun dry the tears on my face, and hoping the sea breeze would blow away the sadness in my heart. I watched the ships, the ones coming into port, the one’s going out. I had many memories of climbing the rigging of the ships as a youngster. I could still fly up to the highest mast with grace, and speed. Ben had taught me more than just the Gregory Pride; he had taught me the sailor’s art. I had soon acquired the skill, and mastered it. He had often said to me,
“What a pity you’re a girl, Ally. You could have made such a good sailor.” And I would reply, (with wounded pride,)
“What difference will it make that I’m a girl?” But it had made a difference. It had made a rather big difference. I sighed and untied my hair ribbon. It had been given to me by Ben for my birthday, which had been just last month. Its hunter green color matched my eyes, and contrasted strongly with my blonde hair. I gently caressed the silk. We were better off than most families, but worse off than others. When I asked Ben, he would answer with a soft laugh and say,
“Oh, we get by...” And though it must not have been easy, he always seemed to get me the best of what I needed, like the expensive, silk, ribbon. I glanced up, and smiled at the sky. I wouldn’t grieve for Ben, he wouldn’t want me to. I would instead cherish the memories, and I would make him proud. This last thought made me pause. How could I make him proud? The answer was evident. Never had Ben been more proud than when I first mastered the art of climbing to the top of the mast. I needed to get away from London’s hustle and bustle; I needed to get out on the open waters. I whispered quietly into the wind, letting it catch the words and carry them into the world, “Though I won’t cry for you, I will make you proud.”
“NO!” Mrs. Thomas and Mrs. Stokes cried together, bursting forth into arguments that overlapped.
“I will not allow ye to go on a ship,”
“It’s not right, Al. You being a girl and,”
“No, missy. Over my dead body will you,”
“Sorry, Ally. You ain’t going.” As both woman paced about in distress, a quiet, gruff voice spoke two words that stopped them dead.
“She’ll go.” They turned astonished into the face of Mr. Bulk.
“No she won’t!” Mrs. Thomas said exasperated.
“Yes she will. And the lass will do it with or without your blessing.” Mr. Bulk continued calmly. Both women gaped at him mutely. The whole argument had been held as if I wasn’t present, but now, Mr. Bulk beckoned me to come forward. I silently obeyed, looking oddly at the floorboards.
“I do understand ye, I surely do. You just want to get away from London, don’t ye?” I nodded.
“Yes,” I almost whispered. “I want to get away from the constant noise, just so I can… hear myself think.” Mr. Bulk’s face wore a thoughtful look, and he nodded.
“I’ll pull a few strings for ye. Get you on a boat. It be a might hard, mind you. You are a girl.” It made my female pride bristle, but I remained silent. It was true.
CHAPTER 3
I paced in the small sea cottage, sniffing the salt scented air. It was relaxing, and I let my shoulders sag a little, releasing the tension. I managed a tight smile as Mr. Bulk entered through the front door. “Aye, I got ye on. Good ship, good captain, but a fairly rough crew they are.” He scratched his stubby chin. “I think ye’ll do well with the ship, and the captain isn’t very present with the activities, but you’ll have to watch the crew, earn their respect.” I played with the loose braid Mrs. Thomas had fashioned in my hair as I listened. Mr. Bulk’s words made the small light of doubt flicker a little within me. But I squared my shoulders. Since I could remember I had joked and worked with local seamen, Ben’s life had been dedicated to making me the best, (and first) sea-woman there ever was. I smiled a little at the thought.
“Mr. Bulk, I am truly, truly grateful for what you’ve done. I can do this. I will do it.” A small smile spread on my lips, filled with the courage that filled my soul. I could do this. I would do this.
“If that’s what ye want, lass. It’s all we can do for Ben… to see ye happy.” His smile was bigger than mine, filled with more love than mine filled with courage.
“Watch it missy, maybe ye should head to ye cabin.” A huge, gruff, strong, mean seaman bumped into me. His smile didn’t look like it was meant to stay there, and in all honesty, it was more of a grimace with slightly upturned corners. I took a deep breath, and made my gaze go cold. Mrs. Stokes had taught me how to make people shiver under your gaze. She was the master, making any drunk or somber seaman or man cringe, even though Mrs. Stokes was an old, small, very unintimidating person. My gaze cold, my words firm, I stated my position.
“I am not your passenger. I am part of your crew.”
“Very funny, lass. But ye best get in your cabin.” I squared my shoulders, and plastered the look of superiority on my face.
“I said I am not a passenger, I am part of your crew.”
“Now look ‘ere,” Hi took hold of my arm. “Lass, I ain’t in the mood for yer games. Either you’re on the ship or not, so make up your mind girl!” He was becoming agitated, as if; if my story were true it might cause major problems… Fatal problems.
“I am not joking. I am part of your crew.”
“Oh for the love of…. CAPTAIN!” He spotted a young fellow who looked as if he was permanently lost in the big wide world. The young blonde’s head jerked up.
“Umm, uh… Yes?” He shuffled over, and I had a feeling I was in for it. Captain Blackwell looked like he couldn’t remember his own name, let alone the newest addition to his crew.
“Captain, this girl,” he spread the word with disgust, “Claims she is indeed, not a passenger, but a member of our crew. Will ye please confirm that the little girl is NOT part of yer crew?” He wore a satisfied look on his face, crossing his arms awaiting the verdict.
“Oh… I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that Harding.” Blackwell rubbed the back of his neck. Harding’s smile disappeared.
“Naw, captain. Ye not serious?” His voice sounded pleading, begging the truth to be a lie.
“Er, yes I’m afraid so. Did it for an old friend, so put up with her for the journey will you?” The captain shuffled away from the first mate’s bewildered face, and closed his cabin door. Harding’s voice hardened, his manner was no longer annoyed, it was furious.
“Right. Come on, ye!” I followed quickly behind.
The market was busy, as it was every Wednesday. The stalls were alive with chatter. Salesmen screaming their prices, children running around and shrieking, and a few stray dogs were sneaking towards different foods, occasionally jumping up and stealing a roll or a piece of meat. I sniffed the air, and the mixed smells of London filled my lungs. I could smell the salt of the sea, the sharp stench of Tabaco, and almost taste the glorious fruit. “Ally!” Mark hissed impatiently. “Stop yer dreaming and come on!” His voice sounded scared, almost begging me to listen. It caused me to run after him, like a little sister would trot after her big brother. We had always joked that Mark was my adopted brother. Though, I guess it should’ve been the other way around, since Mark really had a family and I didn’t. I lived with an old sailor, who had found me inside an abandoned sea chest on the harbor’s edge. I had been wet through and deathly sick, but the dear old soul had taken me in. I snapped out of my daydream and hurried after him. Any fool could see Mark was worried, and anxious. He was rarely disturbed, so I knew it was serious. I also knew it had something to do with me. I ran after him, almost tripping over my skirts. Ladies should not run, but I wasn’t exactly raised to be a lady.
Benjamin Gregory had already retired when he had found the abandoned sea chest. He had never told, but the chest was really fished out of the ocean, bobbing on the waves. Someone had thrown a baby into the sea, to drown. Or perhaps, it had been an accident… Though no-one ever knew which, and he hardly discussed the options with anyone. It was his own little secret, meant to be kept safe from the child. Although he was alone in life, no wife and no children to help, Ben had a lot of friends to help him raise the delicate baby christened Alison Margaret Gregory, or Ally for short. But it was many years later when Ally was almost thirteen, that he had his attack. Many years of salt and rum had made his heart weak, and his attack had come whilst his old friend, Marks mother, was visiting. Mark had run to fetch Ally from the market, but when she reached the old sea cottage, it was too late.
“I am a might sorry, Ally.” Mrs. Stokes said softly, her thick London accent filled with emotion. I stood at Ben’s bedside, to stunned to speak. Mark was standing awkwardly at my side, struggling for words.
“Yeah, we all are, Al. A might sorry we all are.”
I gulped, but could not bring myself to look at the faces in the room, though they were all filled with compassion. Mr. Balk was there, an old sailor friend of Ben, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Finch, Mr. Clifford, and Mrs. Thomas. All of them were old family friends, and all of them had helped raise me. There was again a stretch of silence, but not a awkward silence as it had been with Mark. It was a silence that seemed to show respect to the kindhearted sailor, lying as if asleep, on his bed. It was Mr. Clifford, the tenderhearted milkman, who spoke first.
“Ye know, Al, we’ve all been a’ wondering… what ye gonna do now? You know ye always have a home with us, but ye need to say which one.”
I lifted my eyes slightly, facing them all now. Before I could muster an answer, the old apple saleswoman Mrs. Thomas, said:
“Aye, now Charlie. It ain’t the right time to bring that up, is it?”
“There ain’t ever gonna be a right time.” There was a murmur of agreement. Mrs. Thomas took my arm, and turned me around. She looked into my eyes searchingly.
“You a brave missy, Ally. Ye real brave. Ye not shed a tear yet.” I nodded, and finally mustered a response.
“Expect I will soon. But what’s done is done. Ben was old, and I knew he wouldn’t live forever.” It was true. I reminded myself through the years that life was unfair, and if it was kind to anyone, I shouldn’t expect it to be kind to me. For some reason, I never acquired the Londoners’ way of speaking, and as I continued to speak, my accent wasn’t nearly as heavy as theirs. “As for what I am to do, I don’t know. I love all of you; you can’t expect me to choose. Anyways, Ben always says, I mean said,” I paused before continuing, “He always said I had too much pride. I could never stay with you.” There were a few nods of understanding, if there was one thing Ben had taught his treasure, it was the Gregory family pride. Again, there was silence, and I gazed at the bed. “Please…. Can’t we cover him with something?” I asked. When Mrs. Thomas made a move to do so, chocking on my tears and fled.
CHAPTER 2
I sat on a cargo crate, letting the sun dry the tears on my face, and hoping the sea breeze would blow away the sadness in my heart. I watched the ships, the ones coming into port, the one’s going out. I had many memories of climbing the rigging of the ships as a youngster. I could still fly up to the highest mast with grace, and speed. Ben had taught me more than just the Gregory Pride; he had taught me the sailor’s art. I had soon acquired the skill, and mastered it. He had often said to me,
“What a pity you’re a girl, Ally. You could have made such a good sailor.” And I would reply, (with wounded pride,)
“What difference will it make that I’m a girl?” But it had made a difference. It had made a rather big difference. I sighed and untied my hair ribbon. It had been given to me by Ben for my birthday, which had been just last month. Its hunter green color matched my eyes, and contrasted strongly with my blonde hair. I gently caressed the silk. We were better off than most families, but worse off than others. When I asked Ben, he would answer with a soft laugh and say,
“Oh, we get by...” And though it must not have been easy, he always seemed to get me the best of what I needed, like the expensive, silk, ribbon. I glanced up, and smiled at the sky. I wouldn’t grieve for Ben, he wouldn’t want me to. I would instead cherish the memories, and I would make him proud. This last thought made me pause. How could I make him proud? The answer was evident. Never had Ben been more proud than when I first mastered the art of climbing to the top of the mast. I needed to get away from London’s hustle and bustle; I needed to get out on the open waters. I whispered quietly into the wind, letting it catch the words and carry them into the world, “Though I won’t cry for you, I will make you proud.”
“NO!” Mrs. Thomas and Mrs. Stokes cried together, bursting forth into arguments that overlapped.
“I will not allow ye to go on a ship,”
“It’s not right, Al. You being a girl and,”
“No, missy. Over my dead body will you,”
“Sorry, Ally. You ain’t going.” As both woman paced about in distress, a quiet, gruff voice spoke two words that stopped them dead.
“She’ll go.” They turned astonished into the face of Mr. Bulk.
“No she won’t!” Mrs. Thomas said exasperated.
“Yes she will. And the lass will do it with or without your blessing.” Mr. Bulk continued calmly. Both women gaped at him mutely. The whole argument had been held as if I wasn’t present, but now, Mr. Bulk beckoned me to come forward. I silently obeyed, looking oddly at the floorboards.
“I do understand ye, I surely do. You just want to get away from London, don’t ye?” I nodded.
“Yes,” I almost whispered. “I want to get away from the constant noise, just so I can… hear myself think.” Mr. Bulk’s face wore a thoughtful look, and he nodded.
“I’ll pull a few strings for ye. Get you on a boat. It be a might hard, mind you. You are a girl.” It made my female pride bristle, but I remained silent. It was true.
CHAPTER 3
I paced in the small sea cottage, sniffing the salt scented air. It was relaxing, and I let my shoulders sag a little, releasing the tension. I managed a tight smile as Mr. Bulk entered through the front door. “Aye, I got ye on. Good ship, good captain, but a fairly rough crew they are.” He scratched his stubby chin. “I think ye’ll do well with the ship, and the captain isn’t very present with the activities, but you’ll have to watch the crew, earn their respect.” I played with the loose braid Mrs. Thomas had fashioned in my hair as I listened. Mr. Bulk’s words made the small light of doubt flicker a little within me. But I squared my shoulders. Since I could remember I had joked and worked with local seamen, Ben’s life had been dedicated to making me the best, (and first) sea-woman there ever was. I smiled a little at the thought.
“Mr. Bulk, I am truly, truly grateful for what you’ve done. I can do this. I will do it.” A small smile spread on my lips, filled with the courage that filled my soul. I could do this. I would do this.
“If that’s what ye want, lass. It’s all we can do for Ben… to see ye happy.” His smile was bigger than mine, filled with more love than mine filled with courage.
“Watch it missy, maybe ye should head to ye cabin.” A huge, gruff, strong, mean seaman bumped into me. His smile didn’t look like it was meant to stay there, and in all honesty, it was more of a grimace with slightly upturned corners. I took a deep breath, and made my gaze go cold. Mrs. Stokes had taught me how to make people shiver under your gaze. She was the master, making any drunk or somber seaman or man cringe, even though Mrs. Stokes was an old, small, very unintimidating person. My gaze cold, my words firm, I stated my position.
“I am not your passenger. I am part of your crew.”
“Very funny, lass. But ye best get in your cabin.” I squared my shoulders, and plastered the look of superiority on my face.
“I said I am not a passenger, I am part of your crew.”
“Now look ‘ere,” Hi took hold of my arm. “Lass, I ain’t in the mood for yer games. Either you’re on the ship or not, so make up your mind girl!” He was becoming agitated, as if; if my story were true it might cause major problems… Fatal problems.
“I am not joking. I am part of your crew.”
“Oh for the love of…. CAPTAIN!” He spotted a young fellow who looked as if he was permanently lost in the big wide world. The young blonde’s head jerked up.
“Umm, uh… Yes?” He shuffled over, and I had a feeling I was in for it. Captain Blackwell looked like he couldn’t remember his own name, let alone the newest addition to his crew.
“Captain, this girl,” he spread the word with disgust, “Claims she is indeed, not a passenger, but a member of our crew. Will ye please confirm that the little girl is NOT part of yer crew?” He wore a satisfied look on his face, crossing his arms awaiting the verdict.
“Oh… I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that Harding.” Blackwell rubbed the back of his neck. Harding’s smile disappeared.
“Naw, captain. Ye not serious?” His voice sounded pleading, begging the truth to be a lie.
“Er, yes I’m afraid so. Did it for an old friend, so put up with her for the journey will you?” The captain shuffled away from the first mate’s bewildered face, and closed his cabin door. Harding’s voice hardened, his manner was no longer annoyed, it was furious.
“Right. Come on, ye!” I followed quickly behind.