THE SCHOONER PART 1

THE SCHOONER PART 1

Based upon a story suggestion from Harris Burdick

Written for Tim Wilson's online class in summer 2021

*

He swung his lantern three times and slowly the schooner appeared.

The smell of brine and the stink of pitch were cloying in Lucy's nostrils. Wide-eyed, she watched the schooner ease alongside the rain-slicked quay.  The girl took in the smooth, graceful lines of the ship. The planks of its hull and the deck railings were carved with sea creatures, ancient, modern and legendary. The sails were drawn up the masts, though no crew worked on the deck.

"What is this?" she asked.

Captain Troy smiled down at her. "This, Miss, is your new home."

*

Lucy hefted her valise, a battered, brown leather bag, its brass lock engraved with the initials RC, and struggled to maintain her balance against the weight. All her worldly possessions had been packed, at great speed and with little care, into the case before she had left her home under the guardianship of Captain Troy. She remembered waving goodbye to the family home, blinking back unladylike tears, as the Hansom cab rattled over the cobblestone streets. No-one had been standing on the steps to return her farewell.

"I can take that, if you like," offered Troy.

"That would be very kind of you, Captain," replied Lucy. Her eyes widened as Troy took the valise in a hand the size of a frying pan and she looked up at this giant of a man. Head and shoulders taller than she, the breadth of his chest and shoulders magnified by the heavy, woollen, brass-buttoned coat. Sitting squarely on his head was a matching cap, the brass badge of HMS Cornelius shining like gold, even in the gloom of the evening.

"We can dispense with the pleasantries, if you like." Troy's voice rumbled from his broad chest, like a storm rehearsing its opening cacophony of thunder.

Manners, etiquette, decorum and deportment had been drummed into Lucy from a very early age. Her mother's and governesses' lessons, reinforced with a wooden ruler rapped across her knuckles or legs, were as natural to her as breathing. She could not turn her back on a decade of training. 

"I think that would be unseemly, Captain. Do you not?"

"As you wish, Miss Collingwood. If you will follow me, I'll show you to your cabin."

*

The gangplank swayed as they walked from the quay, across the dark water, to the deck of the ship. Lucy, despite her memories of stinging calves, handled the precarious walk with confident steps and a straight back. 

She caught a strange expression on the Captain's bearded face. It was somewhere between pride and contentment. He raised his arm and Lucy grasped it as she took the last step down to the deck.

"Your cabin is in the fo'c'sle. That's the front of the ship, Miss," he added as Lucy began to walk towards the rear.

"Oh," Lucy said. "I suppose I shall have to learn all this maritime terminology if this is to be my home." She walked towards the forecastle of the ship. "Tell me, Captain, what is her name? I assume you refer to the ship as a female."

"You're learning already," said Troy with a smile. "Indeed, I do call the ship 'her' or 'she'."

He fumbled under his heavy coat for a key and went to the door of the central cabin of the three built under the fo'c'sle. The lock clicked and he pushed open the heavy oak door. "Welcome, Miss, to The Lady Catherine."

Lucy had a glimpse of the room beyond before the Captain, with the slow, dangerous grace of an iceberg, drifted inside and dropped her valise onto the bunk. Then he turned and handed her the key.

"I would most strongly suggest, Miss, that you get into the habit of locking your door every night."

Lucy stared up at the hulking Captain, her brow furrowed with the unspoken question of "Why?"

Troy noticed the girl's quizzical expression but the time for answers would come later. He changed the subject. "You'll find water, soap and towels in your cabin. Feel free to refresh yourself and change if you wish. Dinner will be at eight bells. That's about an hour from now. My cabin is in the sterncastle." He smiled down at the girl and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "You can't miss it."

*

The door clicked shut and Lucy could hear the Captain's footsteps recede as he strode across the deck.

She leaned with her back against the door and examined the key. About three inches long and made of blackened iron, the bow was circular and modelled the Moon, cast with pits and ridges, representing the lunar seas, mountains and those supposed cities the scientists of the age had identified. She wondered if mankind would ever visit those cities. Lucy traced the stem of the key with her fingertip and reached the bit. Chillingly, this was shaped like a skull, with hollow orbits and uneven teeth.

Lucy stared into the skull's eyes, lost in thought as she considered the Captain's advice. Why? she wondered. What was so dangerous on the ship that necessitated such precautions? Tapping the key against the palm of her hand, Lucy began pacing the length of her cabin.

There was little room and an uncomfortable lack of headspace. She narrowly missed her head striking a ceiling beam and had to deftly dodge the lantern hanging there. Lucy sat down on her bunk - a far cry from the four-poster she was used to - and stared at the bare wooden walls. Aside from the cot, there was a small table which was hinged to fold up flat against the wall, a dresser with a curious lip around the edge, and a chest of dark wood, banded with iron.

Her vision blurred as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. Lucy drew a shuddering breath, her chin trembling as a wave of helplessness washed over her. The enormity of her situation hit Lucy as she struggled against the sobs building in her throat.

Her life - comfortable, sociable and genteel - was gone. She was an orphan, now, left in the care of an enigmatic, and frankly frightening, sea captain whose motives she could not fathom. Home was a ship that had likely been built before the turn of the century, cramped, unsanitary and reeking of brine and tar. And her possible destination? Unknown.

A single tear rolled down Lucy's cheek.

BANG!