The Odyssey of Ben O'Neal (6 page)

Oh, that consul was an obstinate, unfeeling man. "Then what happened?"

"We had a fight."

"A regular fight?"

"Well, not quite. The consul got up out of his chair, came close, and shook his fist at me. Boo promptly bit it."

Calderham's bandaged hand!
I had to laugh. I knew there was something about that dog that I liked and went over and congratulated him, then sat down again.

Tee smiled at me. "So here I am."

"Yes," I said, wondering what to do about it. "You know, the police are looking for you."

"I thought they were," said Tee, seemingly not disturbed. "They were snooping around here day before yesterday. Ben, I think that consul is determined to get me to England. I think he's obsessed."

I said, "So do I. But you've done a foolish thing, Tee. Maybe you should give yourself up. I can find some way to send Boo home."

Tee tried some womanly wile on me precisely at that point. She said, "Ben, let's go back to the Banks. We belong together."

I sat upright. "We've been through that before. We cannot live together in that house, and that's that. I'll say it again, there's no preacher who'll marry two young'uns together." I was very firm and her face drooped a little. I realized she'd been plotting for days. Something else suddenly occurred to me. "How did you find me?"

"I simply left the same note at Jordan's, Oscar Smith's, D. S. Baum, and Hudgins & Hurst. You said you'd be going to all the best ship chandlers."

That girl was not unintelligent. "All right, you found me. But now we have to figure a way out of this."

"Why can't I just come with you, wherever you're going? I've got no schedule to make." She pronounced it
shed-yule,
as always, British style.

"That is absolutely impossible," I replied emphatically. "Not four hours ago I was hired as a seaman aboard the finest ship on the coast, the four-master bark
Christine Conyers.
" I was very proud of that. "What's more," I continued, "we're sailing day after tomorrow to the Barbadoes."

She said quickly, "It's not
the Barbadoes.
It's simply Barbados, and the port is Bridgetown."

"Well, that's the way we say it on the Banks—
the Barbadoes
—and I know that the port is Bridgetown. Reuben goes in and out there all the time, and that's who I'm going to meet."

"You know nothing about Barbados and Bridgetown," she said. "You've never even been there. I have."

"I'll find out for myself," I replied, dedicated to do just that.

"So you'll just leave us here alone?" she said gloomily. "You'll abandon us? That isn't like you, Ben."

Weariness rather than gloom was in my voice when I answered. "Tee, I'm going to get you both off this barge and on your way to New York, I hope."

She turned chilly toward me. "I can take care of myself."

I met that challenge. "Well, why did you
urgently
send me a message?"

She turned sullen-silent, and after a moment of thought I said, "I'll try to get you into my boardinghouse overnight. The landlady doesn't like female boarders but—"

Tee interrupted. "Why doesn't she like female boarders?"

I had to be honest. "Because they hang their bloomers out the window."

Tee snapped, "I've never hung my underwear out of any window."

That was her business. I shrugged but happened to glance over at Boo. As an afterthought, I said, "She doesn't permit pets, either."

Tee was seething by now. "Ben, why don't you leave the barge. We can take care of ourselves."

I sighed once more, feeling burdened. "Tee, I'll help all I can. Mama would want me to do it, I know. And I want to do it."

Looking down her sharp nose at me, she said, "Thank you," so British.

I got up and started gathering her blankets and pots. "Where did you get these?" I asked.

"I took them from the consulate, along with thirty-one dollars."

I almost dropped them. So that's why Calderham had accused her of being a thief.

"Oh, don't look so shocked," Tee said. "The British Government has been taking our taxes for years and never gives a tuppence back."

You know, she was right. The U.S. Government does the same thing.

We went along to Mrs. Crowe's, Tee trailing Boo and myself by about a half block to avoid suspicions. Undoubtedly, the Norfolk police were looking for a blond girl and a gold dog. I had her wear my blue cap.

B
EFORE SUPPER
, one railroader, not a Carolina man, wanted to know why I called that girl
Teetoncey.
Simple, I explained. It was a Banks word that meant teeny-tiny, and that seemed to satisfy him. One look at her and he could see that the name fitted the orphan like a toenail.

Then, while we ate, Tee told her story of the past months, losing her parents in the shipwreck, etc., gaining a lot of sympathy for herself and Boo. She did well, and didn't exaggerate too much. When she came to the part about Consul Calderham waving a fist at her, Mr. Stone angrily rose half out of his chair and began muttering about going to Magazine Lane and breaking the consuls jaw.

Mrs. Crowe said her piece: "Sit down, and be quiet, Mr. Stone."

I had told them all about finding employment on the
Christine Conyers,
but they didn't seem to be much interested in it now. Teetoncey was the center of all attention, with her Thames River accent, and I turned silent. When she talked about her previous life in London, and living in the Belgravia house, with a cook and gardener and tweeny maids, Mrs. Crowe half laughed and said, "Wouldn't you like to have a nice foster mother?" I believe she was far more serious than she appeared to be.

Tee wisely did not tell them about Calderham's notifying the authorities, and throughout all this, Boo was down in the blackness of the cellar, surrounded by jars of pickles and beets and strings of onions, moaning now and then. He was very unhappy down there, having always had the run of any house on the Banks that he happened to visit. But Mrs. Crowe, though readily accepting Tee after I'd explained her plight, was very firm about the hound.

After supper, Mrs. Crowe let the dirty dishes stay where they sat, and we all went into the parlor to talk about getting Tee to London without the assistance of Consul Calderham. It was certain he'd find a way to undo the dog. The bite on the hand, though well deserved, had probably sealed Boo's fate.

It was Mrs. Crowe who said to Tee, "Well, as long as you have your credentials, there's no reason for you not to get on a train and go straight to New York, find yourself a ship to London, and be on your way." There was a couthy woman if I'd ever heard one.

When the castaway girl had "taken" the blankets and pots, plus the "tax rebate" of thirty-one dollars from Calderham's desk drawer, she had also lifted her Cunard Line ticket and other credentials for the Transatlantic crossing. So, actually, she was ready to travel.

One of the railroad men, named J. H. Riddle-berger, who worked for the N&W in the passenger division, said, "She can get out of here early in the morning on a Little Pennsy ferry to Cape Charles, then take the NYP&N up to Philly, transfer on to New York City—"

He sounded very knowledgeable, but I asked, "What is all that, sir?"

"Well," he explained, "the Little Pennsy—New York, Philadelphia, and Norfolk Railroad—starts at Cape Charles, on the Virginia Peninsula, then the train goes north to Philadelphia, where it joins the Big Pennsy tracks that go everywhere. There's a well-run ferry from here to Cape Charles."

That was a most important conference there in Mrs. Crowe's parlor amid the ferns, and the scheduling sounded good.

"Will they accept Boo Dog?" Tee immediately wanted to know.

"Gladly," said Mr. Riddleberger. "You just tie him up with a bowl of water in the baggage car. He'll enjoy the ride."

That dog was unbelievably lucky.

So it was all settled. Tee would take the NYP&N ferry, which docked between the C&O slips and the Old Bay Line, walking distance, at 6
A.M
. and be off to New York and London without the help of Consul Calderham and freed of the Norfolk police dragnet.

A moment later, Boo let out one of those long, mournful cries from the basement, one of those graveyard caterwauls that a hound is capable of, and I went down there while Tee assisted Mrs. Crowe with the supper dishes.

Soon the British girl joined me under the single Edison lightbulb, a fascinating thing, that hung from the ceiling near the furnace, and we talked for a long time, Boo contentedly at her feet, enjoying strokes of her hand along his head and ears. There was no question that they were inseparable now. Calderham could have just as soon split the Rock of Gibraltar as split those two.

But just to discourage Tee from any thoughts of following me to sea, I told her the truth about Cap'n Reddy and the bosun: that I'd heard from reliable sources that Reddy was insane and the bosun a bucko hangman; that the
Conyers
was actually a hellship. She seemed to understand that it was simply a very risky means to get me in touch with Reuben. I also had the strong notion she'd make a last-ditch effort to snare me, persuade me to take her back to Heron Head and there "live happily ever after." But, apparently, she was now resigned to making the inevitable voyage home. She even talked about things she'd do right away in the Belgravia house, and it was one of the most pleasant conversations we'd ever had.

About nine, Mrs. Crowe stuck her head down the steps and suggested we get some sleep. Tee would have to be awakened at five, and of course, I had to be on Roanoke Dock, with my seabag, at eight.

Having been pampered for more than an hour, Boo was sufficiently sleepy now, so off we went to our respective rooms, the day having ended successfully for all.

However, a few minutes after 5
A.M
., Mrs. Crowe entered my room to awaken me with shattering news. "She's gone!"

"Oh, no," I said. Another of W. L. Appleton's surprises.

"I went in to wake her up, and she's nowhere in the house. Neither is that dog."

I couldn't believe it. Gone to where? It didn't seem likely that Calderham and the police could have located her and spirited her off. Had she run off again, and why?

The answer soon emerged. We found two notes on the dining-room table. One was to Mrs. Crowe:

Dear Mrs. Crowe:
I can never thank you enough for allowing us to stay in your lovely home. And please extend my gratitude to the railroad men for their sound advice. I am on my way.

Sincerely,
Wendy Lynn Appleton

"Such a sweet girl," said Mrs. Crowe.

"Yes," I replied, but uncertainly.

Then I opened my note:

Dearest Ben:
I could not bear the thought of us saying good-bye so decided to go to the ferry alone with Boo. Please don't follow us. I prefer to think of the
good times, not the sad times. Do write to me, and I shall write to you.

Love,
Teetoncey

Despite myself, I had a lump in my throat. I then agreed, "
A
very sweet girl."

Since she was already up, Mrs. Crowe decided to fix breakfast, and I ate, with not much appetite, at about a quarter to six. My thoughts were of Tee. Then, about six, I went up to the fourth-floor landing to watch the NYP&N ferry pull away. It was too far off and dawn-lit to make out the girl with the daisy hair and the gold-coated dog, but I waved watery-eyed, as the vessel backed into the channel, blew its sorrowful whistle, and began to step out for Cape Charles.

Though it should have been a happy morning in my life, I felt somewhat depressed as I packed everything into my seabag and began the wait until seven-thirty to go to Hudgins & Hurst to meet the shipping master. I fiddled around for a while, went out on the front porch and rocked for a while, said good-bye to all the railroaders as they left for the day, and watched the big clock in the parlor.

Finally, just before seven-thirty, I went in to Mrs. Crowe to bid her farewell, wonderful woman that she was. She softened a bit and told me to take care of myself, be certain to come back to her establishment, then happened to ask the name of the shipping master.

"Parley Bakerby," I said.

Her face got as red as her hair. "Do you know who he is?"

"No," I admitted.

"He owns the Tidewater Saloon. He's a scoundrel. Offers the men loans of ten dollars when he signs them on, just so they'll come back to his den of sin when they pay off at voyage's end."

"I didn't know that," I said. "I won't ask for a loan."

"You be careful," Mrs. Crowe said.

I promised I would, shook her hand, and departed.

O
N ARRIVAL
, there was already a group of scruffy men hanging around Roanoke Dock, and I stayed strictly away from them, trying to make as if I were just sightseeing around. Several sailors appeared to be tipsy, even at this early hour; several others appeared to have the shakes, which I had myself but not from any night in the saloons.

In about ten minutes, Parley Bakerby came puffing along, a lot of official papers in his hands. He was a pink-faced, potbellied man with silky hair and tiny red veins on his nose and cheeks, looking just like a politician and similar destructive persons. He went inside Hudgins & Hurst, towed a small table outside, and sat down heavily behind it, saying in a hoarse voice, "
Conyers
voyage, boys, come an' sign your papers."

Everyone lined up, me at the end. To the first man, who wore a sweater and checkered cloth cap, he said, "Nils, why you tryin' to read 'em? Just sign 'em. You know you can't read a line."

"Where we goin' this time, an' with what?" Nils asked Parley.

"Barbados, a little general cargo; then on to Rio, thousands o' barrels o' flour. Bring coffee home. Pay off north o' Cape Hatteras. Twelve a month."

Nils took the pen and signed while Parley said, "You know the routine. Throw your gear in that wagon over there an' jus' wait. You need any money this trip, Nils?"