Swords clanked during Jessop’s lesson with the captain one morning when an explosion came from below deck along with the whistling of an ejected propellant. A puff of lilac-gray smoke drifted upward past the deck then dissipated in the breeze, but the screams from below did not.
The ship rumbled with footsteps running to the gun deck. The captain made his way toward the screams, with Jessop close at hand. The yelling died when three men rolled the cannon forward and off the injured man—Rees. Rees had passed out from pain when the cannon had been pulled back and he slumped to the floor. Behind Jessop and the captain, Simmons was sporting a half lathered face, still carrying the straight razor.
“What’s happened?” the captain demanded from Day.
“One of the new men set down the lighter on the cannon nowhere near the fuse, I might add, but there must have been a small amount of gun powder on the gun. Next thing I knew, it fired,” Day explained with large hand gestures and facial animation.
Day continued. “The cannon kicked back pinning Rees to the mast pole. If the chain on the cannon hadn’t been in place it would have gone through him and the mast.”
“Mistakes like this shouldn’t happen, Day.”
“I know. I take full responsibility, sir.”
“Simmons. How bad is it?” the captain asked of the squatting man with a half shave.
“Not good. Shin bone has gone completely through the skin and though I can’t see it, I’m guessing the smaller bone is broken too. Very bad break. Looks like we might have to amputate.”
“Amputate?” Jessop blurted.
Simmons gave him a disapproving glare, and answered grabbing the towel around his neck and applying pressure to the wound. “Yes. Amputate. He’ll bleed out and I don’t have the capability to surgically stitch his veins back together, if that would even work.”
“Cauterize the veins and set the bones,” Jessop suggested.
“Doubt it would work. Open wound like this, the soft tissue of the bone will most likely be infected. Infection can lead to death. A man without a limb is better than a dead man.”
“True. He’s so young to go without a limb. Shouldn’t we at least try?”
“We can try, but how is a seaman going to get around with such an injury. He’ll be bedridden for weeks,” Simmons retorted.
“We are understaffed as it is, Mr. Aster. We can’t support a man who does not pull his own weight,” the captain interjected.
“I can rig something with Donovan’s help, if he’s willing,” Jessop said looking to Jeffrey Donovan, Simmons’s apprentice.
“I would like to try,” Donovan offered.
“And what if your plan doesn’t work?” Simmons said looking to the captain for his support.
“Then I will take up the slack,” Jessop said.
“You can’t do the work of two men,” the captain said.
“I’ll help,” Donovan said.
“I’ll help too,” Brown seconded.
The captain looked to Simmons with a raised eyebrow. “It’s up to you, Simmons.”
“Fine. But if he dies from infection or complications, his death is on your hands, Aster.”
“Agreed,” Jessop said.
“Men…take him to the galley. Donovan, get the medicine box, Phillip, bring as much rum as you can carry to the galley. Aster, you’re coming with me.”
Young Phillip Schultz, the powder monkey, took off like a bullet, followed closely by his best friend Marcus Boyd, a cabin boy. Jessop had seen Rees and the young boys playing games on occasion. They would do whatever was needed to help Rees.
* * *
Men carrying the unconscious Rees scurried past Jessop and Simmons. Others talked among themselves about the accident and Simmons and Jessop followed behind Rees.
“I don’t appreciate having to defend my prognosis,” Simmons said as they followed the procession.
“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to undermine your abilities. I have the utmost respect for you and your craft,” Jessop returned.
“Thank you. In the future though, please keep your comments to yourself until we are alone.”
“I will do that, sir.”
“Good. Then what is your plan.”
“When I was repairing the casks, I came across a barrel of gypsum. I think we could make a cast around the leg, immobilizing it.”
“What about swelling? What about infection?”
“We flush the wound the best we can after we cauterize it. If swelling occurs we can recast it. That would give us a chance to check the wound for infection.”
“That could work, but what about sleeping and eating. How do you plan on getting him to the middle deck?”
“I was thinking maybe of rigging a triangular erection over the hole, fixed with a pulley to hoist him up and down, that is if Donovan can help.”
“Hmm…” he said, mulling over the idea. “Why are you so set on helping this lad? I’ve never even seen you talk to him.”
“It’s true. I wouldn’t exactly call him a friend, but I don’t think anyone deserves losing a limb if it can be avoided.”
“Well, that’s still out for debate,” Simmons said as they entered the galley and the cook Morti Malloy looked disheveled at being displaced and overrun by the men laying Rees on the large table in the middle.
“Morti. Hand me the poker.”
“Sir? It’s red hot.”
“Exactly…That’s what we need. Aster, pull the towel away,” Simmons commanded.
The poker hissed against the man’s flesh. Bystanders grimaced and the patient woke long enough to scream before passing out once more. Two more sizzles and he handed the poker to Morti.
“Boys? Where’s the rum?”
Two cracking voices returned in stereo, “Here, sir,” as Phillip handed over a bottle. Simmons uncorked it, took a swig, offered it to Jessop, who declined, and upended the bottle over the exposed bone and wound. “Another bottle,” he demanded.
Again he took another swig then poured it over the wound. “Help me move him to the end of the table,” he ordered Jessop.
Rees’s lower legs dangle over the edge. Simmons sat on the floor in front of the leg to use his upper body strength to maneuver the bones into place.
“Hold his thigh at the edge of the table. Keep them steady. I’m going to pull his foot and try to set the bones.”
Jessop grabbed the rum, took a swig, then held Rees’s leg tightly. It took two tries, but Simmons was able to set them. The heat from the stove and the hard, stressful work had him sweating like a pig. When he was done, he lay on the floor arms outstretched and took a deep breath.
“Whew. Okay, Phillip, take Marcus with you and roll up that barrel of gypsum Aster says is in storage. We’re going to need some old rags and an old bucket and water too. We’re going to be making a really big mess,” Simmons said with a smile, grabbing the rum bottle once more and handing it to Jessop.
Morti t’sked at his kitchen being overrun by hooligans and dirtied up by bodies and plaster.
* * *
Simmons stitched the open wound with a needle and waxed thread. A little more rum, an herbal poultice and a bandage gingerly attached to prevent movement of the bone. By the time he was done, the out of breath boys returned with a bucket of gypsum, water, and a bunch of rags.
Jessop and the boys mixed the powder and water into a soupy concoction. First they loosely wrapped the leg with fairly clean linen then laid strips of plaster soaked strips, building upon one another. They slathered the thickening soup until it was at least a half inch thick.
In the heat of the galley, the plaster hardened quickly. Once they were done with the lower half of the leg, they made another batch and extended the cast to Rees’s mid-thigh making sure to angle the leg a bit keeping it off the ground if Rees was in a standing position.
The young boys were enjoying their messy work and were insistent in covering Rees’s toes in an attempt to make the foot cast into a dragon head. Though it did sound fun, Jessop made them refrain, reminding them how long the cast would be on and how irritating it would be not to at least wiggle his toes. The boys reluctantly agreed and instead made a pattern of dragon scales in the hardening plaster.
When done, Rees was carried to Marcus’s bed in the officers’ quarters until Jessop and Donovan could build the hoisting contraption over the hole of the middle deck. In the interim, several of the other men chipped in and took up the slack in Rees’s chores and duties until Donovan and Jessop were done and could take over his duties.
Marcus and Phillip did their part in the milder duties when they could, and kept Rees company when they weren’t working. Simmons checked on him dutifully, noting any body temperature changes, swelling of his foot and color of his toes. The first couple of days Simmons gave the injured man an opiate for pain, but when there looked to be no infection brewing, he resorted to willow bark and chamomile.
After a week of bunking with Marcus, he was given a set of crutches that Jessop had made from scrap wood they found. Jessop didn’t visit Rees. He let the boys deliver the crutches and announce the pulley system for pulling Rees in and out of the middle deck. At first Jessop thought he might have to rig something up for a bed, but miraculously the hammock worked out pretty well, though the boys had to help him in and out of the hammock the first week.
How he found time to still do his lessons with the captain, along with his duties and most of Rees’s, Jessop wasn’t sure, but he did it nonetheless. And he gained the respect of most everyone aboard except Rees who had no inkling how much he owed his life and limb to Jessop. This was perfectly fine with Jessop, in fact, he preferred it that way.