Deadeye Lashing

Lucky flinched. He rubbed his eyes, as though it might help him find even the tiniest glimmer of light in the black stench of the hold. Nothing. The void pressed around him, making his chest ache. How much had Fortuna heard? Was his plan doomed to failure before they’d even started?

“Help us? Hear that, Daniel? Fortuna wants to help us!” Lucky grabbed at his gut, forgetting for a moment that no one could see his show of mock humor in the pitch dark of the hold. “Ouch.” He’d clutched at the place where he’d fastened Emmeline’s brooch and the pin pricked his thumb.

Silence.

“Daniel?”

“We need him,” Daniel said quietly.

“He can’t be trusted. I can’t believe you’d consider—”

“We need him. If your plan is to have a chance, and I think it does, we need his help.”

“How do we know he won’t rat us out to Jessup?” Lucky reached up and traced the curved beams of the ship’s hull.

“Why would he? We’re his only chance, too, aren’t we?”

“I don’t like it.”

“Way I see it, it’s like you told me. We got to do the best we can with what we’ve been given. Fortuna’s what we’ve been given.”

Lucky thought about it for a moment. “Fortuna’s no gift. More like a weight to bear. But I suppose you’re right.”

“Speaking of weight,” Daniel said. “What about this dress?”

Lucky took out Pa’s knife. “Hold still.” He lifted the fabric of Daniel’s skirt and made a cut just under the bodice. “My apologies for ruining your dress, Beulah,” he said as the fabric tore.

“We’re going aloft,” Lucky told Fortuna. “You’re to stay here and stop any member of the crew who comes down before we get back.”

“Done.” Fortuna said. “But you’ll have to cut these ropes.”

“Why would I do that? What’s to keep you from climbing out of here? You could ruin the whole plan.”

Fortuna blew out a breath. “I won’t leave, but I can’t fight with my hands tied.”

“He’s right,” Daniel said.

“Trust me.” Fortuna’s voice was low and pleading. “I want off this ship as much as you do, probably more. But I want Jessup to get what he deserves. Besides, when have I ever lied to you?”

“You’ve cheated me,” Lucky said. “Out of what’s mine by rights.”

“But when have I ever lied to you?”

Lucky’s stomach had gone bilgy and his head ached. “Turn your back and hold out your wrists,” he said.

Several hours later, when the footsteps above deck had quieted, Lucky climbed the ladder with Daniel close on his heels. At the top, he lifted the hatch a crack and listened. Nothing but the wind in the rigging. The ship rocked as they climbed onto the deck.

Lucky’s hands itched to start up the ratlines. Though still dark and cloudy, dawn gathered strength in the eastern horizon. So little time! If they weren’t able to finish before the mill whistle blew, it would be too late.

Carefully, he closed the hatch and stood on it for a moment. Could Fortuna be trusted? He didn’t think so, but his plan wouldn’t work if they didn’t start right away. Lucky motioned to Daniel and they slid behind a small rowboat turned bottom up and lashed to the deck of the ship.

“See yonder light burning aft?” Lucky pointed. “Bet they’re over there in the galley, but I’ll go over and check.”

“I’ll go with you,” Daniel whispered.

“No. Stay here and make sure Fortuna doesn’t come up.”

Daniel shook his head. “What am I supposed to do if he tries?”

“I dunno. Jump on the hatch.”

“You’re bluffing, Jessup! I call!” A shout came from the galley.

“Good, they’re playing cards,” Lucky said. “That should keep them occupied. I’ll show you what you need to do. First, though, we should unlash this side of the dory, so we can get underneath.” Lucky undid the jamming hitch knot that held one side, gave the line enough slack that they could raise the small boat enough to get under, then retied the rope, pushing the excess under the side. “That should do,” he said. “If you need to get under, lift here.” Daniel nodded.

They approached the mizzenmast. Lucky found a length of line attached to a cleat. He wrapped it around his arm and nodded, satisfied.

“What’s that for?” Daniel whispered.

“We have but one knife,” Lucky reminded him. “I’ll take it up the mainmast, since I’ll be quicker in climbing the ratlines. Once I’m done, I’ll need to get it across to you.”

“Why can’t you just hand it to me?”

“We’ll be fifty feet aloft, that’s why.”

Daniel stared at him, his mouth wide.

“You didn’t think we could cut the rigging from the deck, did you?”

“Course not.”

But Lucky could see from the way Daniel stared up at where the mainmast disappeared into the darkness, that it was exactly what he’d thought.

“Listen, if you can’t do it, tell me now.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Remember,” Lucky said, “you need to weaken the rope, not sever it.”

“Who taught you about thread strength?” Daniel asked, letting the question dangle like bait on a hook.

“You,” Lucky admitted.

A sudden crash cut through the wind and night.

“Quick, under the dory.”

They rolled under the overturned boat just in time. Running footsteps came near and voices sounded on the deck.

“Check the hold,” Jessup ordered.

“No need,” another shouted. “Just a gull dropping a clam onto the deck.”

Awk, awk.

Afraid to even breathe, Lucky and Daniel lay perfectly still.

After a few minutes, the men retreated and the deck was quiet again. “Dawn’s just a shadow’s breadth away,” Lucky said. “Come on!” He peeked out from under the dory, and crawled onto the open deck. Once standing, he held the boat up so Daniel could follow. Together, they crept to the mizzenmast.

“It’s one foot at a time, hand over fist,” Lucky said as he showed Daniel how to get up the ratlines. Climbing rigging took practice, and Daniel would have to do it in the dark and wind. It was risky. But the ship was not under sail, so at least he wouldn’t have to dodge moving parts. Lucky took a deep breath of sea air. They could not afford to fail.

“You all right?” he asked Daniel as he left him at the ratline that led up the mizzenmast.

“I’ll keep.”

“I’ll wave my kerchief when I’m done and then I’ll toss the knife across to you. Once you catch the line, tug on it to let me know you have the knife. I’ll come down the mainmast and wait for you at the dory.”

Daniel swallowed hard. “Aye, aye,” he said.

Lucky left him and headed to the main, where he hoisted himself up the yard. He patted the smooth, solid bulk of the mast three times for luck, and began to climb.

The wind hissed through the yards and spars. Climbing the rigging was more difficult and took longer than Lucky had planned. Finally, he reached the lines he needed to weaken and started cutting. He could do it by feel, but worried that Daniel might not be able to do the same.

His eyes strayed to the lightening horizon and then the pier, where a lantern moved. He froze. There was a knock. In a moment, the galley door opened and Jessup came on deck. Lucky pressed against the mainmast, hoping to blend in with the dark wood. He scanned the mizzenmast for Daniel. His friend was halfway up and had obviously heard the commotion. Still as a statue, he hugged the mizzenmast.

Jessup approached the side of the ship and looked down onto the wharf. What could this be? Lucky wondered. The man holding the lantern called something up to Jessup, but his words were too muffled for Lucky to make out.

Whatever he’d said had made Jessup as angry as a harpoon in the eye. His voice became louder and louder until his words carried clear up into the night.

“What do you mean, they’re gone? All of them?”

The visitor shifted his feet on the wharf and took his cap. Lucky couldn’t hear his response.

“I’ve spent too much time and too much money in these God-forsaken parts to come away with nothing!”

The fugitives must have made it out safely!

Lucky glanced over at Daniel and then to the eastern sky. He’d already reached the right spot in the rigging, but would there be time enough to do the deed?

Once finished, Lucky let out the breath he’d been holding. He ran a hand along the lines he’d been working on. Cords fell away beneath his touch. Had his cuts been just the right depth? Too much, and the lines would split too soon, and be replaced. Too little, and lines might hold, leaving the slave ship to continue on its journey south, gathering more and more fugitives.

So much was tied up in this web of hemp and cordage.

Lucky uncoiled the length of rope he’d found on deck and tied the knife to one end in a secure monkey claw. Then, he removed Pa’s kerchief from his neck and shook it in the direction of the mizzenmast. He thought he could make out the black of Daniel’s bodice against the slack white of the sail.

He tossed the monkey claw and cringed when he heard the knife clatter against the mast. He tried again, but it came back with a whoosh, hitting the mainsail below him. Lucky gazed up at the sky. While they’d been working, dawn had crept onto the eastern horizon.

Finally, on the third try, Daniel caught the rope and reeled in the knife. Lucky felt a tug before the line dropped back to him. He coiled it around his arm and descended slowly onto the ship’s deck and made his way back to the dory. And waited.

Daniel was taking too long! Lucky peered out from under the boat, wishing he could see the sky. Something must have gone wrong. A vision of his friend caught in the rigging like a fish in a net flashed through Lucky’s head. He listened hard, but could hear nothing over the clank of the pulleys and the creak of the masts. He was just about to risk leaving his cover and running over to the mizzenmast when a piercing screech cut the air.

The mill whistle!

And in that moment, the dory lifted slightly and Daniel slid in next to him. Just in time, for they could already hear the footsteps of the crew on deck. Heavy treads advanced toward their hiding place.

The toes of two leather boots appeared in the opening under the skiff. Lucky felt the deck begin to vibrate, but then realized it was Daniel lying beside him, shaking like a tub of blubber.

“Look,” one of the deckhands shouted. “Over there!”

The boots moved away from the dory and toward the port side of the ship.

“What in the blue blazes…?” Jessup said.