In The Belly Of The Bloodhound (17 page)

“I’m only the leader of my Division Three, Clarissa, should they choose to follow me. The same with your Division One, and the same with Dolley’s,” I say, knowing that we are all going to come together as a team right now, or else divide up into suspicious and powerless little cliques, which will be the end of us as freeborn girls. It’s really up to Clarissa and she sure ain’t helping.

“How convenient for you,” she says. “All the servants in your division, and none for us?” She looks about in mock perplexity. “No one to do our wash? No one to comb our hair? No one to—”

“We are all in this together,” I say right back at her.[_ Count on you to think that way, Clarissa, in the midst of all this! Concern about who will serve you on your way into slavery._] “There are no more ladies and no more serving girls here. Everyone will tend to their own selves. Right now we are all, lady or girl, just meat to be sold on the auction block. Do you understand that?” I put that as crudely as I could to drive the point home, and I guess the point was made, for there are more murmurs of assent.

“All right. Now listen to this. This level we are standing on will be called the Stage. The upper shelves there will be called the Balconies—the port Balcony on the left there, and the starboard Balcony there on the right. That space down there will be called the Pit. You will see, if you look down there, two large containers. They are called the necessary tubs. That is where you will relieve yourselves when you feel the need. I’m sorry that all the privacy you will have right now is your skirts lowered about you, but we will arrange for some sort of curtains to be—”

“But this is all so…so[_ foul!”_] wails Elspeth, her eyes wild. “I can’t do it…I can’t…” Others join in the lament and I know I must stop it, right now.

“Oh yes, you will, Elspeth,” I say, as gently as I can. “You will get used to it.”

“No…no…this is all so wrong! I’ve got to get back! My parents will be missing me, they’ll be wondering where I am…Really, I’ve got to get back, I’m sorry, I can’t stay, I’d really like to, but I really must…”

It is plain she is on the edge of hysteria. I go over and take her by the shoulders and give her a bit of a shake. “You must not worry about what your parents think now, Elspeth. You must concern yourself with what is best for you, and what is best for you now is to control yourself. Here, Annie, Sylvie, take her, hold her.”

And they do, and they manage to soothe her, and she quiets. Again I address the girls.

“All right. Let us muster the divisions. Division Two on the starboard side of the Stage…that’s it…and Division One in the center.” I’ve got to give Clarissa’s division that position—she’d never let me take center stage. “And Division Three over here on the port side of the Stage, by me. Come on, now, let’s do it.”

The girls are quieter now, as I knew they would be, having been given some direction and the feeling of belonging to a group. When they are all separated into divisions, I say, “Now your division officers will meet. Make yourselves as comfortable as you can. Those that need to use the tubs should do so now, for soon it will be dark and you won’t be able to see your way down there. Oh, and another thing: This setting up of divisions is a secret from[_ them._] Everything we say or do is a secret from them. Understood?” There are murmurs of assent.

Dolley and Clarissa come up to me as a line of girls files down the ladder into the Pit. I know a natural protocol will be set up—all will look away as each one approaches a tub. Skirts will be lifted, then lowered, and all will be right, in that matter, at least.

“So,” says Clarissa, “you’ve got everyone all divided up. Now what’s the point of it? We’re still trapped.”

“It will give them some comfort, especially the weaker ones, to know that someone is taking charge and looking out for them,” says I. “Now, let’s go up on the Balcony and see what’s up and make some plans.”

With that, I lead the way up the stairway to the port-side Balcony. As I noticed before, this shelf is about six feet deep, and in spite of the overall smell in the Hold, it seems there was some effort made to clean it up after the last load. We are able to stand here and actually look out on to the deck of the ship. There’s about three feet of wall, and above that are iron bars about six inches apart, the entire length of the Balcony. The bottom of the bars is on the same level as the main deck outside, so if a man were to walk by us, our eyes would be level with his knees. Looking across to the starboard side, I see that it’s the same there, and across the aft side of the Hold, as well—I can see the helmsman at his wheel back there, and other men here and there about the deck. It’s from these open bars that we will get our light. Above the bars is the flat hatch top that looms overhead and covers the entire Hold. Below the bars are the neck chains, hanging fourteen inches apart.

A breeze blows through the bars and all three of us suck it deep in our lungs, gratefully. At least we shall have some fresh air. I peek out and look up, and sure enough, there’re wooden flaps on hinges that will be lowered in the event of rough seas or foul weather.

“What plans can we possibly make?” asks Dolley. “We are helpless.”

“Helpless now, true, but it will not always be so,” I say. “What we can do now is see how things lie, maybe do some exploring, and get the girls settled in for the night. Tomorrow we must—”

EEEEEEEEEEEEEUUUUUUUWWWWWWWWWWWW!

There is a scream from below and we look down over the edge of the Balcony. There is a flurry of excitement among the girls waiting their turn at the tubs, and it isn’t hard to figure out the cause—rats, scared back into their hideyholes by our sudden entrance into the Hold, have become bolder and are scurrying around the edges of the Pit. There are a[_ lot_] of them.

There are more screams and cries of Oh[_ my God, no!
] and[
Please, God! Save us!_] and such from the girls in the Pit. I lean over and say, “Don’t worry about them. They won’t hurt you. We’ll deal with them later. Calmness, now.”

They do calm down some, but the ever pious Constance Howell sinks to her knees and stretches her arms upward and laments, “Oh, we have truly died and gone to Hell! Oh Lord, what sins did I commit to be sent to this place? What sins, oh Lord, could I have done that I deserved[_ this?”_]

“Now, Connie, there’s no use blaming ourselves, nor God, neither,” I say down to her. “The fault lies entirely with those who have taken us, and many others before us, into bondage. They will pay for that with the loss of their souls, and we all know there is no greater loss than that.”

That seems to mollify them a bit, though there still are assorted cries of[_ “Eeeek,”
] and one of[
“Shoo! Shoo! Get back there, you!”
] from Rose Crawford, of my Division Three.[
That’s the spirit, girl._]

“Anyway,” I say, turning back and looking out on the deck again, “tomorrow we’ll know better how things are going to be, and we will make more solid plans then. I don’t think they’ll feed us or have anything more to do with us today. They’ll probably want to soften us up a bit with the isolation and all. They’ll—”

From the quarterdeck comes the ringing of six bells.[_ Hmmm…these curs at least keep that practice going. Good. It will help us to know the time, later on._]

“They’ll be by to see us in the morning, count on it,” I say, continuing my casing of the deck. Through the tangle of rigging, I can see a large lifeboat swung out over the side, hanging from davits.[_ I wonder why they keep it there…On a regular ship, the small boats are stowed on the deck, upside down…Ah, I bet it’s to catch water when it rains. There’re probably canvas collectors rigged inside the boats—’cause a slaver needs a lot of fresh water, much more than a regular ship. That’s got to be it._] “And that was six bells in the afternoon watch, which means it’s three o’clock. My, my, it’s been a long four hours since last we left the land.”

“And all that we held dear,” says Dolley, wistfully, but dry-eyed.

“Well, we hold each other dear, and we still have that,” I say firmly, and that gets me a snort from Clarissa. “Now we should get the girls settled because soon things will get rough and many of them will be sick. We’ll have them sleep up here on the Balcony, heads to the bulkhead, feet pointed to the Pit, so they don’t roll over and fall off the edge. The air is better up here and it will be good for them. Dolley, why don’t you announce that, and Clarissa, you address them and say that plans are being made and tomorrow we see about making demands to improve our conditions, and then I’ll—”

“What I still don’t get is why we should listen to anything you say, Little Miss Pushy!” says Clarissa. She comes up in front of me, her eyes drilling into mine. “Come on,[_ Boss Lady,_] you tell me why.”

“I ain’t the boss, Clarissa,” I say, my own eyes narrowing as I gaze back into hers. “That’s why we are setting up this three-way thing. We share the power…and the responsibility.”

“Power?” She snorts, and I feel her breath on my face but I don’t pull back. “What[_ power?
] Power over some thirty-odd helpless girls? Some[
power.”_]

“They are what we have to work with and work with them we will. They are all we have in the way of an army, and I think they may well surprise you, Miss Clarissa Crappington Howe.”

Dolley pushes between us and says, “All right, stop it. Let’s go down and speak to them. I’m…I’m starting to not feel so…good.” Dolley then swallows hard.

We go back down to the Stage, where all the girls have regathered—and into their divisions, I’m pleased to see. Nothing like a few rats skittering around your skirts to speed things up down at the tubs.

Dolley and Clarissa make their announcements as planned, and then I speak up:

“I think it best we take off our dresses at night to keep them fresh. Things are filthy here, as you can see, but soon we’ll get things shaped up. We’ll want to look our best when we hit the slave markets. The more they pay for us, the better we’ll be treated, I figure.” I say this for the benefit of anyone who might be outside listening, so they’ll think we’re getting resigned to our fate. “Stockings, too. If you leave them on, your feet will start to stink in a few days. Doff your petticoats, too. It’s going to be hot where we’re going. Roll them up with your stockings and stuff them inside your dresses and fold the dress into a pad for a pillow at night. I suspect none of you has ever before slept on hard planking and you will welcome the small comfort of the pillow, believe me.”

With that I unbutton my dress and slide it off. I hop up on the edge of the Balcony, kick off my shoes and roll down my stockings, and put both stockings and shoes inside my dress and roll it up. I know that three-quarters of the girls will be deathly ill within the hour. Some are already turning a bit green about the gills.

“How…how can you be so cold and matter-of-fact about this?” asks Martha Hawthorne, standing below on the Stage and looking up to me in wonder.

“Because what is, is, and what is not, is not. Believe it or not, I’ve been in worse fixes than this. We will talk and plan tomorrow when we know more about the way of things around here. It’s plain they ain’t gonna feed us tonight, so I suggest we all get some sleep, even though it is early. Or some rest, at least. Night will fall shortly. Be sure to say your prayers.”

And I am sure many, many heartfelt prayers are said, as the[_ Bloodhound_] takes a slow, deep, and stomach-churning roll. The hanging chains on the port side swing out from the bulkhead, while those on the starboard side crash against the ship’s inner hull. The rattling of the chains sets up a hellish symphony, one composed by soulless men without pity or remorse, and one that I know we will hear again and again before this is over.

With that, I turn and walk a little ways along the length of the Balcony, lie down, put my bundle ‘neath my head, and close my eyes. Rebecca and Elspeth are up in an instant, and I gather them to me. Annie and Sylvie settle not far away and I reach out my hand to them and their touch gives me comfort and I hope the touch of my hand gives them

But that was not the end of our first day on the[_ Bloodhound._] Not for me, anyway. Yesterday, before dark but after the girls had gotten into sleeping position and had settled down somewhat, I got Rebecca and Elspeth to cling to each other rather than to me, then I crawled to the edge of the Balcony and lay there with my head over, looking down into the Pit for a long time. After a while I heard a rustle beside me and turned and saw that it was Clarissa.

“What are you looking at?” she demands as she lies down next to me.

“The rats,” I say. “I’m watching the rats.”

“Friends of yours, no doubt, and certainly on your social level.” She sniffs. “But why are you watching them?”

“To see how they get in and out of the Hold. Look, there…” I point to a particularly large rascal who comes out of a hole in the deck. “See how that one runs across the open space and then ducks around that hull support there? Now we see him, now we don’t, so he must have gotten through there, somewhere. See, they live in the bilges, the space below that bottom deck, but there ain’t no food down there—it’s all forward, up in the galley and storerooms—so they’ve got to find their way to it. And they do, count on it, they always do.”

“Why do you want to know that?”

“Because maybe they can show us the way out of here. I’m pretty sure we can’t escape through the hatchway where we were brought in. You noticed the lock on the outer door of the hatch when we were put down here? And the lock on the barred inner gate there? Now, maybe I could pick that lock, if I had the tools, but I can’t open the lock on the upper one ‘cause it’s on the outside of the door. No, if we’re to get out of here, we’ll have to find our way out down there in the Pit somewhere.”

“But what will we do if we do get out, what…?”

“First things first. There’s lots we can do if we get out, but we’ll plan for that later. For now I’m going down to see what’s there.” Saying that, I get up and head for the stairs. I’m surprised to hear her following me.

We go down the stairs from the Balcony, onto the Stage level, and then down more steps and into the Pit. The light filtering in from the barred windows is a lot dimmer here, but there is enough of it for us to see our way along the forward bulkhead to the spot where we saw the rat go through.