Mississippi Jack: Being an Account of the Further Waterborne Adventures of Jacky Faber, Midshipman, Fine Lady, and Lily of the West (49 page)

I think about this.
I've got to do it sometime. Why not now? I could always yell for help and it would be here in an instant.

"The kiss and nothing more?" I ask, doubtfully.

"The kiss and nothing more, on my sacred honor," answers he, whose blue eyes are a scant three inches from my brown ones.

My hands are free, so I reach up and take the strands of wet hair, hair very much the color of mine, that hang down in his eyes and I pull them to the side. I cant my head and say, "Very well, Captain Allen, you may commence the slow count."

I keep my lips pursed tight, unyielding, and I intend to keep them that way for the duration of this thing, and he brings his mouth down on mine and tightens his grip about my waist. I keep my lips firm.

Then he takes his free hand, the one not around my waist, and puts it to the back of my head and leaves it there, the better to hold my face to his. I let my lips relax a bit and then,
Oh, Richard!
I relax them even more, and then I let them open and—and then I pull back, starting to breathe hard, and look into his eyes, which are as feverish as mine, and he says, "That's only fifteen, Princess ... fifteen more, now," and then I clamp my open mouth back on his and run my hands up into his hair and moan and move myself against him and then...

...And then I hear what sounds like a paddle being run along the gunwale of a boat...
What?...Who?...
And I pull back from Captain Richard Allen to look up into the astonished eyes of none other than James Emerson Fletcher.

I am not usually at a loss for words, but the sight of Jaimy Fletcher, dressed in fringed buckskin, sitting alone in a canoe in the middle of the American wilderness, with a look of total amazement on his face, robs me of all power of speech. My mouth hangs open in absolute, stunned shock, unable to utter a word as his canoe drifts by not six feet away.

It's when the astonished look on his face changes to one of dejected disappointment that I remember that I'm standing stark naked in waist-deep water with my hands on the shoulders of a man I have just been kissing. Then the ability to speak returns to me.

"J-J-Jaimy!" I wade toward him, my arms outstretched. "Oh, Jaimy! Oh, I'm so glad! I'm ... Jaimy, wait!"

He dispiritedly shakes his head and directs his gaze downriver, his mouth set in a grim line, as he digs in his paddle and pulls away.

"No, Jaimy, it's not what you think! I can explain!" Desperately, I try to swim after him, but it's no use—he pulls steadily away. I cross the trench to stand and slap the surface
water in an agony of frustration and dismay. "Jaimy, you come back here right now!"

He rounds a bend and I can't see him anymore, so I let out a long
waaaaaaaa
of despair.
Jaimy, please come back!

I lunge out of the water—
maybe I can catch him in the
Star!—and feel the wind. With a sob I realize it is blowing from the south, directly against me. The
Star
is useless, for as a rowboat she could never catch that canoe.

Maybe Higgins can still see him from...

I tear across the sandy beach and through the narrow strip of woods to stand behind the bushes on the other shore and shout to the
Belle.
"Higgins! That's Jaimy Fletcher up there in that canoe! Call him back! Oh, please, Higgins, get him to come back!" and I start bawlin' for real now.

Through my tears I see Higgins jump up on the cabin top and peer forward. Then he cups his hands around his mouth and bellows, "Mr. Fletcher! Come back!"

Higgins continues to look south, and then he shakes his head and turns to me. "It's no use, Miss. If that was indeed Mr. Fletcher, he is gone."

Waaaaaaaaaaa...

"Come back to the boats, Miss, and we'll discuss what can be done."

I stumble back to the other side, wailing, my chest wracked with sobs. Through a fog of misery, I find my clothes and tearfully pull on my shirt.

"I fear the rare mood of the day has vanished, along with that fellow there," remarks Captain Allen, who stands regarding me, his thumbs hooked in the waistband of the drawers he has put back on. "Eh, what?"

"You sh-sh-shut up, you," I blubber. "This is all your fault."

"
Hmmm
... that would have been your ex-betrothed, then. Pity, that."

I pull on my drawers, cinch up the waistband, and throw my balled-up skirt into the
Star.
"Find your own way back to the b-b-boat, you ... you brute!"

"I am sorry, you know. I really don't like to see you cry."

I shove off the boat, get in, and row back to the
Belle,
returning so much sadder than when I left.

"Please, Miss! Please calm down!" begs Higgins, but I won't calm down, I won't. I won't.

"You back there! MacDuff! Haul in your anchor and set some men on the sweeps! We're moving on!" I yell as soon as my foot is back on the
Belle.
"Jim! Up anchor! Hawkes on sweeps! Move it, dammit!"

Nobody on these boats has seen me in full rage before, but they're sure seeing it now. I jump up on the cabin top and go forward and look intently downriver. Nothing.

"Lightfoot, Chee-a-quat," I say to the two of them standing below me. "The next canoe we see, we buy it, and you go track him down and bring him back. Will you do it?
Please.
"

"We'll try, Wah-chinga," says Lightfoot, shaking his head doubtfully. "But this river's gonna divide and split again up ahead, and we'll just have to guess which way he might have gone. We could track him in the woods, but we can't on water. But we'll give it a try."

I nod my thanks and go to my table and flop myself down in my chair, a quivering ball of misery. I steam and I glower, but I have managed to stop crying. We are moving again, so we'll at least get in a few more hours of travel before dark. Maybe we'll find a canoe, maybe...

"Perhaps you are ready to talk now?" asks Higgins.

Heavy sigh. "Yes, please sit down."

Higgins pulls out a chair and seats himself. "Do you mind telling me what happened?"

"I was paying off the bet to Captain Allen when Jaimy pulled up next to us in a canoe."

"Um. I notice that the clothes you have on are dry. Can I assume that you were..."

"Yes."

"And Captain Allen?"

"The same."

"Ah. Did Mr. Fletcher say anything to you?"

"No. He ... he just looked at me and shook his head and p-p-paddled off." The tears come again.

"Here, Miss, take my handkerchief and blow your nose. That's better. Now, how was he dressed?"

"Jaimy? In buckskins, of all things..."

"
Hmmm...
" says Higgins, and then goes quiet, plainly mulling over all this.

"Is there reason to hope?" I ask, ready to grasp at any straw.

"I think there is, Miss," he says. "You know he can only go to New Orleans, don't you? You'll surely be able to catch up with him there and explain things. I'm sure Captain Allen will be happy to write out a statement detailing the extent of your relationship with him."

"But what if he gets there and is able to book passage back to London, where he surely would be wantin' to go?"

"You said he was dressed in buckskins, so I can only assume he met with unfortunate circumstances on his journey and had to work his way downriver as best he could. I don't believe he would have the money to book passage."

I think on that for a moment, then say, "Thank you, Higgins, for trying to make me feel more hopeful, but that won't wash. Jaimy could ship out as a mate or, if he couldn't manage that, then as a common seaman. Anything to get as far away as possible from m-m-me."

"
Hmm.
Well, maybe a ship won't be available. Maybe Lightfoot and Chee-a-quat will be able to find him. You must not give up hope, Miss."

Another heavy sigh. "I know, Higgins, I know. Oh, why must I always mess up everything?"

"Your impulsive nature is part of your character, part of what made you so charming to Mr. Fletcher in the past, and what, I am quite sure, will make you charming to him in the future as well."

"I hope so, Higgins," I say, putting my hand on his. "You are so good to try to cheer me, but, oh, if you could just imagine my shock at seeing him, just coming out of the blue like that. I am shaken to my core and I still cannot fathom just how he got here."

"Well, I'm guessing that Ezra Pickering figured a way for him to be freed from HMS
Juno,
or maybe it was a handsome bribe paid to Captain Rutherford—we do remember him as a greedy sort, don't we? And then Mr. Fletcher took off after you. You will recall that Mr. Pickering knew where you intended to go."

"You're probably right. And if I hadn't decided on a swim, we'd be preparing for a wedding right now. We even have a preacher to say the words."

"Yes," says Higgins, "I imagine he was right behind us the whole way and"—Higgins stops and I look over and notice his upper teeth bite his lower lip as if he had suddenly realized that he had just said something he regretted—"and could I get you a glass of wine, Miss, for your nerves? And perhaps you might think of putting your skirt back on?"

I frown.
What is he trying to gloss over?
From the corner of my eye I see Clementine start to edge away. She must have been listening, she...

Then it comes to me, as seconds ago it had come to Higgins, but it hits me a lot harder. That time, outside the jail in Pittsburgh ... Mike Fink taunting me:
I know a secret thing ... and I ain't gonna tell you what it is...
and then later ... Oh, my God...

My name is Missus Clementine Fletcher!

Slowly I rise from my chair and turn to face her. As soon as she sees the look on my face, she cuts and runs aft.

"Why, you scheming little bitch!" I snarl and take after her, hands hooked into claws.

"Miss, don't!" I hear Higgins shout behind me, but I will, oh, yes I will.
You're gonna get it, you sneaking, two-faced—

Clementine runs to the stern, turns, and sees me still comin'. Her eyes are wild, tears stream down her face. She hooks her leg over the rail and turns to Jim, standing open-mouthed at the tiller. "Good-bye, Jimmy! Always remember that I loved you more than anything else in the world!"

And she launches herself off into the deep water on our starboard side.

"You ain't gettin' off that easy, damn you!" I screech and dive in after her.
No, you ain't!

I resurface just as her head breaks water, and I am on her in an instant, putting my hands about her throat.

"What a fool I was! I took you in, I cared for you, I loved you as a sister, and then I find I have clasped a snake to my bosom! I'm gonna
kill
you!"

But I ain't gonna do that at all, 'cause while I'm expectin' her to squall and thrash and fight back, she doesn't do that at all. All she does is hang there all limp in my grip, sobbing, her yellow hair plastered to her head, her face contorted, with tears pouring from her eyes.

"Go ahead and kill me, I don't care! I don't! Jimmy ain't gonna want me no more and I'd rather be dead! Just let me go. I don't know how to swim, so you just let me go, if'n you want to kill me!" Her bawling redoubles, her mouth opens, and her lower lip goes back over her bottom teeth, her eyes still squeezed tight shut. "God, you give me Jaimy, then you give me Jimmy, then you take 'em both away! Oh, Lord, how could you do that to me?"

I release my grip on her neck and put my arm around her waist, and my other arm under her legs, behind her knees and tread water, holding her there.

"Nobody's gonna kill you, Clementine. Just hush, now, hush. Everything's gonna be all right, you'll see."

What
I
see is a very concerned Jim Tanner rowing toward us in the
Evening Star.
In a moment he is alongside us and I hand him Clementine's trembling form.

"Take her off for a spell, Jim. You'll need to talk. I can swim back to the
Belle.
And I'm sorry, Jim, for how I acted."

He nods, but he ain't lookin' at me. I swim back to the boat and climb the ladder.

Higgins insists that I change into decent clothing and I do it and go back to my table up top. Jim and the other boat had thrown out their anchors when Clementine and I hit the water.
So be it,
I think,
let us stay here for the night. To hell with it. To hell with everything.

Higgins brings me up food and drink, for I certainly don't feel like being sociable with my crew this evening. Captain Allen, I notice, has the good grace not to sit at his table and taunt me with his smirk, and I am glad of it.

As I sit and force myself to eat, I steal glances over at Clementine and Jim, still sitting in the
Evening Star.
I can see her shoulders shake as she sits apart from him, telling her story. This goes on for a while, then I see him put his arm around her and he draws her to him, and she lays her head on his shoulder. They remain that way for a while and then Jim picks up the oars and rows back to the
Belle.

Higgins notices me still glowering as he sets down a glass of wine.

"Do you know the meaning of the word
hypocrisy,
Miss?"

"Of course I know what it means, Higgins, and I take your point. I have been a complete hypocrite, and I know it."

I have smooched, sparked, and wriggled my way halfway around this world—Randall, Robin, Jared, Padraic, Arthur McBride, and finally Richard Allen, and I should expect Jaimy to be an angel? No, it's not fair.

Jim hands Clementine up the ladder and Chloe takes her by the hand and leads her into our cabin, to get her dry and presentable. Jim comes up to me and looks me square in the eye, unsmiling. He says, "Clementine and me are going to get married. Today. I'm gonna go tell the Reverend now."

He ain't askin' my permission, but I nod anyway.

So we do have a wedding aboard the
Belle of the Golden West
on this day. It just so happens that it is not
my
wedding, which should have been the one so happily celebrated, had not cruel fate and my own headstrong stupidity intervened.