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Ahab's Daughter Page 2
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“How did you know…” I touched the photograph underneath my shirt.
“I have an eye for observation, and I caught a peek at it when we first met.” He glanced around to make certain we were alone.
Regaining my courage, I held the photo back. “No, I have to go with you. I’m not getting stuck here when you risk everything to bring him back.”
He stopped on the street and pulled me off to the side. An older man glanced at us warily, but when he saw we weren’t about to fight, he went on his way.
“If you want my help, then here’s my deal. I go alone and you go back to your mother. I’ll find your brother and bring him back safely.” He put out his hand for me to shake. “Do we have a deal?”
I hesitated a moment and handed him my brother’s photo. “Yes, we do.”
“Then let’s go inside and stay low for a bit. I’ll work the arrangements out with my friend here, and then you’ll be on your way.” He led the way into a tavern, and I followed him.
He thought he had beaten me, but I was a good liar. He just didn’t know that—yet.
***
Nathan stared out at the sea, looking for a whale sign. Large, puffy clouds hung low in the sky, and sunlight streamed through them. Soon daylight would be gone, and he would climb back down, have his meal, and go to sleep, dreaming of the beast. Ever since he had lost his father, the nightmares had come to him, sometimes in intense blasts of violence and blood, while at other times, more subdued and measured, but still there, all the same.
The sea, and its call, was in Nathan’s blood, and he knew his sister and mother would never understand. A whistle from down below jostled him from his revere.
“You coming down anytime soon?” the oarsman called up. “Mealtime is only minutes away.”
Nathan glanced down the foremast and waved. “Yeah, I’ll head down soon. I’m hungry. Do you know if…” Off to the port side, he saw the sign, clear as day, and when he turned back, the slick dark body of the whale broke above the surface for a few seconds, and then disappeared beneath the waves. He grabbed the string to the bell, and rang it with great force, and shouted down. “Whale sighting. Port side. I see a whale!”
The oarsman ran off to tell the rest of the crew, and Nathan scanned the sea for another spotting. He heard other yells and commotion from the deck and knew the first mate or captain would come join him soon in the foremast. With the light fading, he guessed he had a fifty-fifty chance they would pursue the whale. His heart beat fast, and he scanned the waves, but the whale stayed below the waves.
The mast shook and Nathan glanced down to see that the first mate climbed up with ropes. Not wanting to miss another sign of the whale, Nathan turned back to the sea and concentrated. He looked at each ripple, trying to project the speed of the whale to guess where it might be seen next.
The first mate, James, climbed into the crow’s nest and patted Nathan on the back. “Good job, Nate. Point him out to me.”
Nathan calculated the distance in his head and did his best to guess. “On the port side, twenty degrees. I lost him under the waves and only saw him once.”
James used his callused hand to shield his eyes from the setting sun. “Did you see him blow?”
Nathan brushed back his dark hair with his hand and blinked but did not take his eyes off the spot where he hoped the whale would resurface. “No, I did not see him blow.”
“The sun is getting low. If we don’t see him break the surface, we might have to let this one go. We’ll not have the light to chase him.” James leaned forward and gripped the top of the crow’s nest. “Come on, you devil. Show yourself.”
As if on cue, a dark line a bit farther than Nathan had calculated broke the surface of the water. The whale’s large flipper stuck straight out of the sea, and then the creature splashed it back down.
James smiled and turned to Nathan. “Look, he waves to us.” He mulled his options for a moment, and the whale rose up full from the water, trying to kiss the sky. Its huge body crashed back down into the waves, and again its flipper appeared to wave at the men. James banged his hand on the railing of the crow’s nest. “How can we not chase him when he calls to us?”
Nathan smiled and ignored the rumbling in his stomach. Hunger and thirst went away. All that mattered now was the chase, if not for the ultimate goal to find the white beast and end the curse that fueled his nightmares, but a good distraction would help to right his tired spirit. “Shall I ring the bell again?”
James nodded. “We chase until all the light and then some is gone. Keep your eye on him!” He clipped out of the crow’s nest, heading back down to the deck.
Nathan nodded and then rang the bell three solid times. “Whale. Whale!”
The crew had already taken their positions, and most had seen the display off the port side. James hit the deck hard and rushed off to go update the captain. Now they would all work as one to steer the ship and track the whale, and the boatsteers edged to the front, readying their harpoons. Nathan heard the yells and calls from below, and the first mate had joined the captain at the wheel. Captain Eldon stood tall with the wheel in his hands and he worked with the crew to steer true, following the whale.
The sun nearly kissing the horizon became lost in the clouds, and the light took a dramatic shift, becoming darker. Only minutes remained before the sun would set and the glow of light would fade quickly with twilight soon to follow. Nathan glanced down at his hands and touched a broken blister on his index finger. The blister had not yet fully healed, and his hands lacked the calluses of an experienced sailor. Still green and unproven, he was thankful the captain had allowed him to be part of his crew. Spotting the whale would be a boon for him. It would help him gain the trust of the rest of the crew. Some still smirked behind his back, but he knew he had much yet to learn.
The clouds turned orange and the sky a shade of pink, but still the whale showed no sign of its whereabouts. Nathan searched and scanned the sea, calculating the speed of the whale, the wind, and the unknowns as best he could. But still he saw nothing. The boatsteer on the port side held his harpoon at the ready, leaning forward, itching to be the first to strike. If they could land one harpoon, their chances of capturing the whale would be greatly increased.
With his eyes stinging from not blinking, Nathan gave in and blinked fast several times. He thought the whale played a game with him and even tried to glance away for just a moment, thinking the whale would resurface and show itself one last time before the sun fully set. But the whale stayed beneath the waves.
The foremast shook again, and Nathan glanced down to see his friend Ezekiel climbing up. Nathan helped him climb into the crow’s nest and said, “Come to see the whale for yourself? Do you not believe me?”
Ezekiel’s dark skin sucked up the light, and his white teeth always took Nathan by surprise. His friend’s large teeth shone whiter than snow. “I do not doubt you. I come bringing you some food.”
He pulled a pouch off his belt and handed it to his friend.
Nathan opened it but did not take his eyes off the sea. He took a bite of some salted meat. “Zeke, this is really good and I’m famished. Thank you.”
“Hunting whales is long and hungry work. We cannot have our eyes be tired now. Can we?” After Nathan had finished a strip of meat, Zeke took the pouch back and then passed a container of water to his friend. “Drink up. You’ve been here for hours.”
Taking a mouthful of water, Nathan drank a few more swallows and then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “I was thirsty.” He turned to Zeke and patted him on the arm. “Thank you again.”
“Do not take your eyes off our prize.” Zeke turned his friend back toward the direction they had all last seen the whale.
The tip of the sun now only hung above the horizon, and though the clouds had parted, the little light that remained would fade fast and sure. Nathan blinked again and he pointed up ahead, closer to the ship than he had expected. “I think that’s him.”
 
; Zeke kept quiet and searched the waves. He saw nothing for a moment, but Nathan did. “Whale, whale, whale!” He rang the bell three more times as he had been instructed. “Ten degrees more to port. I think he’s in a feeding lane. See?”
“I see him now. You’re right. He’s slowed so that he can feed.” Zeke patted his friend on the back. “I’ll go tell the others. Keep looking after him, and I’ll send someone else up to get an update from you.”
Nathan nodded and kept an eye on the whale. He could see it now, slowing down with its large mouth open, its upper jaws above the surface, hoping to feed on any fish and plankton that fell into its large maw. The boatsteer on the port side waved his harpoon in the air, signaling his clear view of the whale. He stood ready and waited until he could strike, but timing would be close.
The sun had set beneath the horizon, and the waning light faded fast. Nathan leaned forward and spoke low under his breath. “Come on, come on. Faster!” He willed the ship to slide quicker through the water like rain dripping down a window. As a kid, he remembered the drops falling fast from the top of the window to its sill, forming a puddle. He would watch the rain and imagine his father standing tall, holding court on his ship, with every man looking to him as their captain and savior. He would deliver them from the storm, and through it all, they would survive the darkness, hunger, and even the dead spells on the deep, dark sea. He imagined what his father would do now in the thick of the hunt with light fading.
“Nathan, hey, you awake?” Zeke shook his friend.
“I didn’t hear you. What did the captain say?” Nathan rubbed his chin and his scraggly attempt at a beard.
Clean-shaven and always groomed meticulously for being on a whaling ship, Zeke shook his head. “He’s going to call the chase in the next few minutes. The light is low, and the crew is tired. He doesn’t want to chance going off course tonight. The reports of a storm ahead from today’s gram with the Delight have him concerned. He doesn’t want to go off course in getting to the island. He has bigger treasure on his mind.”
“He told you this?” The whale had slowed even more, and soon they would be within a harpoon throw away.
“I overheard him say this to the first mate.” Zeke shook his head. “Even if we get a good harpoon in, the chase might be called.”
“But we’re so close. It would be bad luck to give up on our first chase.” Nathan glanced down and saw the boatsteer test the weight of the harpoon in his hand. Experienced and patient, the boatsteer would only throw when he knew that he could hit the whale.
“Sometimes it is good to know when to let go of what you cannot have.” Zeke smiled, and even in the waning light, his white teeth still shone bright. “You are young still and will learn in time that you can’t always get the whale.”
Nathan ignored his friend and pointed to the boatsteer. “Look, he’s about to throw.”
“Qayshaun is good. He waits and is patient. If he throws, he’ll hit.” Zeke leaned back and waited with measured poise.
“Why doesn’t he throw? We’re so close!” Nathan gripped the railing to the crow’s nest tight and caught himself. “I’m sorry, it’s my first time and I’m excited.”
Zeke crossed his arms over his chest and said, “Be patient now. Your job is done for the moment. Let Qayshaun do his job, and then, when he hits, you can do yours again if the whale veers away.”
Qayshaun pulled his arm back and hung still. His body tensed and his muscles were ready to spread and send forth all his power through the harpoon. And without knowing, the whale slowed still more with part of its upper jaw still above the wave. The wind had picked up slightly and the light now had all but gone. Only by the spot of the sun’s setting did any portion of light still remain. Darkness would descend soon and quick, stealing their chance from them.
Nathan breathed in deep, and the salt in the air calmed him. His heart still beat fast, but he tried his best to listen to his friend’s advice. Patience. He needed to be patient. This first whale would teach him what he needed to know, and when he came face to face with the white beast, he could stand tall and break the curse that held him in its dark tendrils.
Zeke held his hand up following Qayshaun’s swaying. He kept quiet until the last moment when the harpoon flew out, sprung tight with tremendous power, toward the back of the whale. Zeke imagined the harpoon sinking into the whale’s flesh, embedding itself there, and then, like a lighthouse beacon, they could follow the whale through the night until they captured him. Nathan watched the harpoon fly, lost it in the darkness for a moment, and then saw it vanish beneath the sea.
Nathan leaned out of the crow’s nest. “What happened?”
Qayshaun pulled back from the edge of the ship with his head lowered.
“He missed.” Zeke began to climb down and join the others below.
Nathan heard the whistle and his heart sank a little. Looking back up at him, Zeke said, “Captain’s called the hunt off. Come on down.”
“I’m coming.” Nathan could no longer see the whale in the darkness. The captain had done what was best for the crew. With a possible storm ahead and darkness so thick around them, the chase would have to come another day. They had only been on the sea a day and would have more chances. He knew that, but his heart did not. His blood had wanted the chase, and then they would capture their first whale, and he would become a man. He stared up at the first star and hoped next time might be different. He avoided all thoughts of home and why he came on board, focusing only on the future and the glory he would gain in catching his first whale.
“You think too much,” Zeke yelled up at him. “Let it go.” His friend grabbed at his ankle and tugged. “Come on. We’ll miss dinner.”
“Okay, okay.” At the thought of more food, his stomach growled, and he did as told. He let his disappointment go and wondered what would become of the whale they had missed. As it swam in the dark, he thought of the cold water and the darkness down below in the deep where no angels could be seen but only the unknown beasts of the netherworld.
Chapter 2
I finished my bowl of soup and wiped the sides of my mouth with a napkin. The chowder and crusty piece of bread sat well in my stomach. More than half a day had passed since my last solid meal. I watched Ishmael slurp his soup, eating with an efficiency that marked him as a sailor. When he moved his arms, it was apparent he still had great strength. I feared for the person he might come to blows with. I leaned forward and took a piece of bread, cleaned the last drips of soup from my bowl, and then popped the still warm bread into my mouth.
“Do you still go whaling?” I asked him with my mouth still stuffed.
He took a big sip from his glass and drank some water down. “Why do you ask?”
“Your arms.” I motioned to them with my chin. “You look like you could still rip the head off a bear.” I kept my voice low and scanned the room, moderately filled with patrons. We sat in the back, waiting for his friend to come meet us.
He flexed his arm and shrugged. “I go out to sea from time to time.” He leaned back in his chair and scratched the several days’ old beard on his face. “I do it to train the local boys before they go out to sea for the first time. They think they know what the sea will bring, but they’ve no idea.”
He glanced away and looked off into the next room. From across our table, an elderly man sat alone with his feet outstretched. He had a large bowl on his table, but he closed his eyes and had his hands folded in his lap. A lit pipe hung from his mouth, and a spiral of smoke floated up and away from us. Faintly, I could smell the lit tobacco, and it reminded me of my father.
From out of the back, a middle-aged man with a limp and a large belly headed toward us. He had a dish rag thrown over his shoulder and wore an apron. When he arrived at our table, he put a plate down in front of us and smiled. “Mary wanted you to have this.” A fine slice of cake rested on the plate with some white confectioner’s sugar on top.
Ishmael, with serious intent on his face, pi
cked up a fork and took a bite. The instant the cake went into his mouth, his eyes went wide, and then he lightly banged the table with his hand. “Your sister makes the finest cake. I’m lucky to have her think of me.”
“If you weren’t so stubborn and set in your ways, you could have this cake every week if you were to marry her.”
“George, we’ve had this conversation before. A man like me is not fit to be a husband.” He took another bite of cake and savored the moment before swallowing.
“It’s your loss. She would be good for you and get you out of your ways. Maybe even clean you up a bit and set you straight.” George scratched his large belly.
Ishmael’s smile faded from his face. “She would be too good for me, and I would not want to drag her down with my love of the sea. It would only hurt her, and I wouldn’t want to see that.”
“You are an honest man, Ishmael. An honest man.” George sat down in an open chair at the table and looked over at me. “Who’s the boy? Another one of the urchins off the street that you take in and save?”
I looked to Ishmael on whether I should speak or not, and he took another bite of cake and nodded.
“My name’s Morgan.” I spoke a bit low and mumbled the name and didn’t make eye contact with George.
George leaned forward, looked me up and down, lost interest in me, and turned back to Ishmael. “What do you need?” He picked up an extra fork on the table and passed it to me. “Better make sure you get to try some before it’s gone.”
I accepted the fork and took a small bit of cake. When I placed a piece in my mouth, the chocolate melted onto my tongue and then the confectioner’s sugar kicked in, adding an extra bit of sweetness to the strong chocolate. “It’s delicious!” My voice went up and I ended the last syllable on a squeak, pretending that my voice still changed as I grew into a man.
“My sister would be pleased.” George leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.