LC 04 - Skeleton Crew (41 page)

Bellisaro's idea, I believe, was to sail past the storm and out into
the open ocean, staying out of its way. But the sky quickly filled
with the approaching dark clouds. It began to rain and the winds
grew to such an extent that he could no longer keep up the main
sails and ordered them furled. The best he could do was to turn
the ship into the wind and to keep her steady.

A wave crashed over the ship and washed three soldiers overboard before they could be helped. Another wave lifted the ship,
tossing her so that the yardarm dipped into the ocean. I had been
in a doorway and was thrown against the wall. I crawled to my
cabin, believing at the time that the fewer people in the way, the
better for all of us. I checked Jen, he slept soundly. Valerian had
tied him to the cot. I took a piece of leather from my trunk and for
what reason I don't know, perhaps I had a premonition, I wrapped
my journal in it and, as best I could, bracing myself in a corner,
sewed it into the inside of my clothing. Apparently, of all the things
in my trunk, I held my journal the most dear.

The pitching of the ship escalated, mostly to and fro, but occasionally side to side. I remembered Valerian's words during the first
storm and reckoned that Bellisaro must be having a difficult time
in this one. The sound of the waves crashing over the ship, the
lightning, the howling wind, and the rain were most horrendous.
I left my cabin and met Valerian in the narrow corridor. "We need
men to bail. One of the pumps has broken," he yelled, his words
almost drowned by the terrible noise. He led me to a place where
I stood in a line and passed buckets of water to the man beside me
for what seemed like eternity, while Valerian went below to work
on the pump. He was successful, yet we bailed for another eternity
while the pumps caught up. I thought perhaps everything would
be all right. Indeed it seemed to me the rocking had subsided
slightly and the fearful noises were not as great as before. I was
about to retreat to the cabin when the boatswain, soaked and
dripping in water, grabbed my arm and told me to help with hoisting the cannons overboard.

I could not keep track of time. The clouds were so black I could
not place the sun anywhere in the sky. I have no idea how long it
took, or what part of the day it was when the gray ocean swallowed the last cannon.

I stood under the forecastle deck out of the blinding rain, trying to catch my breath, holding fast to the door frame lest I
should fall on the slippery deck. I saw that Valerian's equipment
was gone. I imagine it went over the side before the cannons. A
steady line of men worked-I know not how they withstood the
raging storm-bringing cargo out of the hold and tossing it over
the side. I think I realized then that the ship was sinking. The
pumps could not keep up with the water crashing in, or she had
a leak, or something was not allowing her to stay afloat. I prayed
for God to help us.

The sailors had tied ropes across and along the decks to hold
on to. Across the way I saw Bellisaro giving directions. I could not
hear what he said over the din of the storm, but the men fetched
axes and began chopping down the masts. Lord have mercy on us,
I prayed, as another wave crashed over the ship. I saw a sailor lying
sprawled, his ax by his side. I made my way across the waterwashed deck to it and helped with the felling of the mainmast. I
have toppled many trees on my father's estate, so this was a contribution I could make. I was thrown to the deck many times by waves hitting me from one side then another and by the lurching
of the ship upon the giant seas. I don't know why I was not struck
by an ax or how I failed to strike another man, but finally with a
loud creak and groan, the mighty mainmast toppled over into the
ocean. I went to help with the foremast. Behind me, I heard the
mizzenmast fall.

We were a boat adrift and rudderless in an angry ocean, still
sinking, more slowly for all our efforts, but still sinking. Waves
crashed over the sides more furiously than ever as the ship sat
lower in the water. I was exhausted. My ears were exhausted from
the incessant noise of the wind, rain, sea, and groaning ship. I tried
to shut out the sounds of screaming souls.

Bellisaro stood on the deck near the stump of the mainmast,
holding on, his legs spread wide, his face contorted from yelling
orders. Sailors were bringing up the anchor rope from the hold.
Something else to throw overboard, I supposed, and broke in line
to help carry the huge rope. Three sailors had one end of a messenger rope tied to the end of the anchor rope and they jumped
in the water with it while others fed the rope over the side. Surely
not, I thought. I went to the other side of the ship where men held
on to the railing with wet, bleeding hands, watching for the swimmers. They were wrapping the enormous anchor rope around the
ship's hull, tying the ship together with it. A desperate act, I
thought, as I gave every assistance I could. The best we could hope
for now was that the rope would hold the ship together and it
would not break apart under the constant battering and tossing of
the waves and give us time enough for the storm to pass.

But the storm would not abate, and Bellisaro gave the order to
abandon ship. We had only four boats, which would carry ten men
full, perhaps sixteen men overloaded, not nearly enough for the
close to two hundred men on board. The sailors loosened the
boats and they fell into the water. I saw Valerian for the first time
in a while. He was helping Bellisaro throw the young pages into
the first boat.

The captain rushed to jump over the side and into the boat.
Bellisaro tried to stop him, but several soldiers threw the pilot to
the deck and jumped into the boat with the captain. I only hoped
the craven men would not throw the poor pages over the side. I
looked at the poor young fellows huddling in the bottom of the
boat as it was tossed about in the waves. I wondered if they would have been better off staying on the ship. The sailors and soldiers
fought over the remaining boats.

I saw Valerian go below and I remembered poor Jen. I followed
with great difficulty and fear. The servant was still tied in his bed,
and sleeping. How, I wondered, could anyone sleep in this storm?

"I don't think I can get him on deck," Valerian yelled to me.

"I don't know how he could survive," I yelled back. "Look what
a deep sleep he is in. I believe he is dying. At least he is far from
this misery we are in now. Leave him be."

Valerian was anguished. I said a prayer for the unfortunate Jen.
I believe he was beyond any of our help and perhaps better off
than any of us. I pulled Valerian out of the cabin and onto the deck
in time to see Bellisaro fall through the broken grate and down
into the ship, followed by a flood of water from a wave that
washed over us. The ship was suddenly raised high and turned
over, throwing the two of us out into the ocean. I gulped in salt
water and was tossed about like a wine cork. I lost sight of Valerian.
Something hit me in the back and I choked, almost losing my
breath. I was surely going to die, I knew. I grabbed hold of the
thing that hit me. It was an overturned boat. I prayed it was not
the one with the children. I tried to climb onto it, but couldn't, nor
could I find a place on which to cling. I thought I was lost. I swam.
I had no idea that I made any progress in the raging sea, but I
determined I would try. I hit another piece of debris floating past
me and clung to it as if it were gold. It was a sea chest.

My memory after that does not serve me well. I remember
being in the ocean, holding and kicking, thinking of nothing but
doing those two things. I think I remember washing up on the
sand, but I'm not sure. My first clear memory after the storm is of
Indians bringing me to this shelter and giving me food. I am grateful. Perhaps they know the way to a Spanish mission.

THE DAM GROANED louder than Lindsay had ever heard it and
waves crashed over the bulkheads, sending sprays of water into
the interior. The extra pumps elevated the rhythmic ambient noise
inside their well. It was going to be a day that tested her stress
threshold, Lindsay thought, as she dug in the wet soil. The back
and forth chatter was brief and focused on the excavation.
Everyone worked faster and breathed harder. It started to rain and
the rapid drops of water on the roof sounded like muffled gunfire.
But there was no alarm.

The day reached the eleventh hour of the morning and the sudden loud blast of the siren sent a shock through Lindsay. Two
blasts. The test.

"Shit," said Juliana. "That nearly gave me a heart attack."

Trey came down the stairs and stood at the edge of the excavation. "I've talked with the meteorologists. This is just a rain and
some wind. The hurricane is stalled far south of here. The seas are
rough, but we've had rough seas here before."

Jeff keeled over, landing with his face in the mud. The worker
closest to him pulled him over on his back. Lindsay rushed to his
side, pulled a bandanna out of the pocket of her cutoffs, and wiped
his face. He was breathing in rapid, shallow gasps and his heart
beat fast.

"Call the Coast Guard," she yelled. "Tell them we have an
emergency."

"What's wrong?" Trey asked. "What happened?"

"I don't know. Did anybody see what happened?" she called
out.

"He just fell over," Gina said. "He seemed fine before."

"When help comes, they'll have to get him to the top," Lindsay said. "Can you use the timber hoist?" Trey nodded. Lindsay
looked at Juliana, who was kneeling on the opposite side from her.
"Go to the field desk and get the asthma spray. Bring back any
other medication you find. Is he taking anything else?"

"I don't know," Juliana answered.

"Me neither," Gina and the others replied.

Juliana jumped up and ran to the desk, searching the drawers.
She brought a plastic bottle of asthma spray to Lindsay.

"I've noticed that he's been a lot happier lately," Lindsay said.
"Is he taking something for stress? Depression?"

"I don't know," Juliana almost shouted.

"They're on their way," Steven yelled.

"Trey, you and Juliana go to the barge and look in Jeff's room
for any medication he may be taking. We have to send it with
him."

"You think it's some kind of overdose?" Trey asked.

"Possibly. Please hurry."

John came down the stairway to see what was happening. The
other crew stopped their work and looked on. Lindsay looked at
the anxious faces. They were thinking about murder, she realized.

The paramedics came and put Jeff on a stretcher and started a
standard IV. Lindsay gave them the asthma spray. "They've gone
to his room to find anything else," she told them. She also
explained how he had been very anxious working down inside the
dam.

"I can understand that," one of the paramedics commented.

"I think he may have been taking something for it," Lindsay
said. "He seemed very happy lately, almost manic sometimes."

"Yeah," Gina agreed. "I just thought he was adjusting."

"Here they come," Lindsay said.

Juliana and Trey hurried over and Trey thrust a pill vial into the
hands of the nearest paramedic, who looked at the label.
"Prescription. But the doctor may not have known he was an asthmatic."

They strapped a pale Jeff to the stretcher and with the help of
Steven, John, and Trey, hoisted him to the top of the dam where
they carried him down to the boat. John climbed to the top of the
dam to assist.

"Someone should go with Jeff," Gina said.

"If you like, you can get cleaned up and I'll have someone take you to the hospital later," Trey said. "There's nothing you can do
now. Lindsay, I need to talk to you."

As Lindsay followed Trey to the field desk, she heard Gina ask
Juliana what was wrong.

"Nothing," Juliana snapped. "Let's get back to work." The anxieties of the past several days were getting to all of them.

"What is it?" Lindsay asked, looking at Trey's worried features.

"While Juliana and I were looking for medicine, we found some
things."

"What things?"

"A gold and emerald cross and what looks like soggy leather
books or something."

It took a moment for what Trey told her to sink in. "No."

"I'm afraid so. Juliana was really upset, of course."

"It doesn't make sense. Why would Jeff do that?"

"Why anybody? If Jeff's been in some altered state of awareness
the last few days, he may have thought he had some good reason."

"Not to attack Boote, wearing a ski mask." Lindsay thought
back to the incident. Jeff was shorter than she thought the attacker
was, and she had a sense that the thief was heavier. But then again,
the best view she got of him was when he knocked her down. Jeff's
eyes were the right color, but hazel eyes are common. "I don't like
this."

"Neither do 1, but maybe, you know, the guy just went nuts. Jeff
was a little peculiar when he got here."

"Peculiarity doesn't lead to criminal behavior."

"He had the items tucked away in the bottom drawer of his
chest."

"Where are they now?" Lindsay asked, then saw a box he had
put down on the field desk.

"I've got to call Carolyn and find out what to do with the stuff.
I can't believe this." Trey took the box and he and Lindsay went up
the ladder to the top of the dam and into one of the trailers.

Lindsay looked in the box at the waterlogged contents. One
item appeared to be a book with an embossed leather cover.
Another piece of leather or something lay in a pile in the corner. It
looked like it was disintegrating. An object wrapped in a rag lay in
the end of the box. Lindsay picked it up and unwrapped it. It was
startlingly beautiful-a seven-inch shiny gold cross encrusted
with huge emeralds. It weighed heavy in her hand as she rubbed her fingers across the stones. She could see how something like
this was tempting. The beauty of it had its own vitality. This piece
alone was worth a princely sum of money. She couldn't imagine an
enormous ship full of objects like this.