Spirits in the Park (31 page)

“How's your grandfather?” the first girl asked as the others moved away now that they realized there'd be no courting tonight.

“He's getting better, Sally, thanks,” Finn replied, not looking her in the eye.

“Did he ever find out what happened to his Indian friend?”

“You mean Penhawitz?” Soka asked, her interest caught.

“I guess. The two of them stopped here on their way out to the Great Hill, and a day later, your granddad showed up alone with his leg a complete mess. I guess he parted with his Indian friend on the road after they survived the squirrel attack. I'd wondered what ever happened to the Munsee fellow. He seemed nice.”

“Penhawitz didn't stop in here, then?” Soka asked. “I was hoping to find news of him.”

“Sorry, miss,” Sally said. “I haven't seen him.” She gave Soka a second, sharper look, her eyes going from the Munsee girl to Finn and back. “And try to remember your place in line, honey. Last.” She walked away as the other girls gave Soka mean looks from the bar.

“Well, I'm looking forward to a good night's sleep!” Finn declared, desperately trying to change the topic. “I'll be happy knowing that that Askook guy isn't right behind us.”

“Why?” Bridget asked innocently. “Did you two used to date?” Soka erupted into laughter and Bridget joined her while Finn looked on, red-faced.

“There's nothing wrong with knowing a few lasses,” he said.

“It is true, you are a comely man,” Soka replied. “I don't fault you. If I looked as fine as you, I'd probably be unable to walk into a tavern without being accosted by an ex-dalliance, either. Or three.”

Finn pursed his lips, looking away as his face turned red. Bridget suddenly felt a whole lot better about Rory's chances.

She sat back in her chair, listening in on some of the conversations around her. One was quickly becoming quite heated. Two groups of soldiers, from different eras, to judge by their uniforms, began to argue by the fire.

“At least we saw combat!” one solder said.

“That was a retreat,” another soldier across the fireplace replied. “Washington was on the run. It's not called ‘seeing combat' if you run away.”

“You never even fired a single shot,” the first soldier said. “You built all the pretty forts and cannons and then the British never even showed up!”

“Hey, we were ready!” the second soldier said. “It was the War of 1812, right? It's not our fault we were so good that we finished it up in twelve months. It took you Revolution boys years!”

“And still we almost beat you!” a British soldier called out, and his mates cheered, clinking glasses.

“‘Almost' only counts in horseshoes and cannonballs!” the Revolutionary soldier shot back. “Cannonballs these boys never got around to firing!”

“I'll show you cannonballs!” the other American solder cried, reaching for a musket.

“That's enough!” Catherine shouted, stomping between the two groups. “Ned, you know the rules. I think you need to take your friends home for the night.”

“He started it,” the one called Ned said, but Catherine would have none of it. She watched over the soldiers from the War of 1812 as they gathered their muskets and staggered sheepishly outside.

The evening passed quickly, with Finn trying not to talk to the serving girls and Bridget thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. When it came time to hit the sack, Finn seemed relieved to be leaving the common room. The few rooms of the tavern were filled, so Catherine agreed to let them sleep in the stable. They headed outside, and Bridget spied Hans lying beneath a bush beside the front door, his helmet under his head, fast asleep. She nudged him awake to tell him where they were sleeping, but he only murmured and turned over. She decided to let him rest and followed the others into the stable.

A few horses still stamped in their stalls. A ladder led up to the loft, and Finn seemed to know exactly where to go, which caused Soka to raise an eyebrow; he shrugged sheepishly before climbing up. Soka and Bridget followed, and Bridget waved good night to Tucket, who curled up at the base of the ladder, as they all turned in for the night.

THE SQUALL

T
he wind had picked up greatly around the Adventure Gal
ley
, sending the sails flapping. Shouts rose from the sailors as they scurried around, securing the lashings. Kidd emerged from below and shot them a grim smile.

“Squall,” he said. “You should get below—”

He hadn't even finished his sentence when a violent gust of wind slammed into the ship, sending them reeling. Rory was flung from his feet, landing heavily on the deck. Alexa had somehow kept her footing, but she flailed about for something to hold on to. Rain began to fall through the darkening mist—first a drizzle, then quickly a downpour. Within moments, Rory was soaked to the bone.

Alexa stumbled to the railing, which she clung to tightly. Rory crawled over to her side, thrusting an arm around the rail to hold on.

“Are you okay?” she shouted. Alexa had to yell to be heard over the wind.

“I'm fine,” he answered, wiping water from his face. The sailors raced to and fro, battening down anything loose. Kidd ordered his men to bring down the sails so the wind wouldn't capsize them. The ship began to rock violently as the waves swelled larger and larger, and the rain beat down harder. Rory had visions of it breaking into pieces before sinking to the bottom of the sea.

“Let's get belowdecks,” Alexa yelled in his ear, pointing to the open hatch. Rory wasn't so sure he wanted to be down in the bowels of the ship as it was tossed about like a toy, but he started to crawl toward the door. A huge wave broke over them, drenching them. Rory spat out salt water.

“Where did this come from?” he screamed back at Alexa.

“My father used to tell me these squalls could kick up out of nowhere,” she yelled back, barely audible over the roaring wind. “Come on!”

“Where's Fritz?” he yelled back. “Did you see him come down?” She shook her head, fear coming over her face. They both peered at the crow's nest far above, almost invisible through the sheets of rain. Another wave crashed over the side of the ship and Rory reached out for the rail to keep from being swept overboard.

“He's still up there!” he screamed. “He'll never make it down in this! What do we do?”

“We can't do anything! If we try to climb up the mast in this, we'll get blown away like a feather!”

Her face showed that she agonized over the decision, but she was firm. Rory, however, would not give up.

“Maybe one of the sailors can help us?” He glanced around but every hand was busy trying to hold the ship together. Pirates clung to the rigging, trying to fight the wind as they finished tying up the sails. There was no one to help them.

“I'll go,” he said finally.

“What! No! That's suicide. Come on, we have to get you to safety.” She crawled up to him and began to pull him toward the hatch. He yanked himself away.

“I have to! He's saved my life over and over. I can't leave him!”

“You don't even know if he's alive up there. You're too important to risk. I'll go.”

She looked terrified but resolute. Rory would not let her risk her life for him. He was tired of everyone taking the bullet for him. Fritz was his friend and he needed him. Rory waited for the next wave to break over them and then leaped to his feet. He raced across the deck, past a soaked Captain Kidd, who was still giving orders.

“Hey!” Kidd cried as he saw Rory run past. “Where are you going? I told you to get below!”

Rory ignored the pirate captain, launching himself at the mast. He had just enough time to get a good hold of the rigging before the next wave hit. He spat out more salt water, shook his eyes clear, and began to climb.

The higher he climbed, the harder the wind beat at him. The rigging was slick with rainwater, and he had to fight to keep his grip. He couldn't look back, because he knew he'd freeze with fear, so he gritted his teeth and reached out for the next handhold. Slowly he rose up the mast, fighting to stay on.

“Hold on, Rory, it's a big one!” he heard Alexa cry behind him, and he had just enough time to wrap his arms in the rigging before the huge wave hit.

The entire ship leaned to starboard under the force of the wall of water. Rory went blind for a moment as the water poured over him, blocking out all his senses. He felt his arms weaken as the force of the wave threatened to pull him off the mast. But somehow, when the water cleared, he still hung from the rigging. The ship, however, had tilted almost sideways. He was hanging mere feet above the sea, perpendicular to the mast, and for a second he thought for sure they would capsize. Somehow, thankfully, the ship slowly righted itself, and he fell back against the mast. He went to pull out his arm from the rigging and resume his climb when he hit a snag.

He couldn't budge.

The rope from the rigging had wrapped itself around his arms, pinning him to the mast. He couldn't move them even an inch. Terrified, he finally looked back down at the deck. Alexa was clinging to the mast, trying to climb after him. She looked as frightened as he felt. He watched as she realized why he wasn't moving. But before she could pull herself up, someone ran through the door from down below. It was Simon, and he was . . . laughing.

Where was the moping, scared boy who wouldn't leave his stateroom? This Simon nimbly raced across the wet deck, waving up at Rory. He reached the base of the mast and yelled up.

“You look like a trussed turkey! Need a hand?”

Rory could only nod. Simon turned back to an equally stunned Alexa and gave her a thumbs-up. Then he leaped onto the rigging and swiftly pulled himself up. Alexa shouted another warning and Rory ducked his head as a wave beat down on them. Looking back at Simon, he was shocked to see the older boy spitting a stream of salt water into the air like he'd just come up from a dip in his bathtub. Simon grinned up at him, and quickly climbed to Rory's side.

“Ouch,” he said. “Looks painful.”

“Simon! What is wrong with you?”

Simon's eyes flashed as he grinned from ear to ear.

“Wrong? There's nothing wrong. In fact, I'd say that everything is finally right! Let's get you untangled, shall we? Then we can enjoy this magnificent storm from ground level.”

“Wait! Fritz is up there. I'm afraid it may be too late—”

“Well, let's see, shall we? Hang tight until I get back!”

With that, Simon scampered up the rigging like a spider monkey, giving no thought to the driving wind and rain. He reached the crow's nest and disappeared inside. Rory's heart froze as he waited. Finally, Simon leaned over and gave him an okay sign. Rory felt like a huge weight had lifted. Fritz was all right.

Simon slid down the mast as if it were a fireman's pole, stopping himself when he reached Rory.

“He's A-OK. He was wedged in the corner, which was why he didn't fall out. Lucky sucker. I've got him in my pocket. Now let's see to you!”

Simon dangled from the mast by one hand as he rifled around his belt. Rory was sure the boy would fall, but he somehow kept his grip. Finally, Simon pulled out a knife.

“Hold on!” he said brightly. “Wouldn't want to lose you now, eh?”

He reached over and sawed at the rigging above Rory's hands. The wind had ripped open Simon's shirt, and Rory thought he saw a flash of something gold around his neck. Before he could look closer, the ropes came free and he had to cling quickly to keep from falling.

“Come on!” Simon cried, sliding down the rest of the mast. Rory followed more carefully, but thankfully the largest of the waves had passed. He hit the deck with a thud and collapsed. Alexa ran over and began to smack him on the shoulder.

“You idiot! You could have died up there! Where would we have been without you? That was the most selfish, stupid, thickheaded—”

“Hold a moment, Alexa.” A weak voice rose from Simon's hand. It was Fritz, white-faced but alive.

“Fritz!” Rory and Alexa both rushed to lean over the battle roach, who spoke up at them, his voice shaking.

“Rory, everything Alexa is saying is correct. You can't risk yourself like that, you're too important.”

“But—” Rory began.

“Wait, let me finish. It was stupid, but I thank you anyway. And you especially, Simon. Both of you saved my life. I owe you both a debt I can never repay. Thank you.”

Rory's eyes welled up and even Simon looked gratified and surprised. Alexa quickly broke that spell by turning on her fellow Rattle Watcher.

“What was that, Simon? What is going on! One moment you're too afraid to even leave your room, then the next you're climbing up that mast like an acrobat! You better explain yourself, and fast!”

Simon opened his mouth to speak, but before he could answer, a shout interrupted them.

“Man overboard!”

They all spun around to stare over the side. The rain had slackened, but the storm wasn't over yet. Wind still lifted the waves into heady peaks and valleys. They scanned the dark water for any sign of life; at first there seemed to be nothing out there. Then Rory saw it, a few yards out. A small canoe, capsized, and a man clinging its side. Hope and fear simultaneously ran through him. Could it be . . . ?

The man waved at the ship, allaying Rory's fear for the moment. The sailors tossed a line over the side. Soon the man was lying on the deck gasping for air. Rory ran to his side, and his throat tightened as his hope was confirmed. The man saw him, his eyes widening.