The Work and the Glory (518 page)

“Did you know that in about three days we’ll have been at sea for one month?” he asked.

She turned her head and nodded. She had already remembered that it was the first day of March. They had sailed from New York on the fourth of February. “It seems longer in a way. It’s like we’ve been on board for a lifetime. And yet in another way, it seems like only a week.”

“That’s how the sea is,” he said. “I have found—”

“Mr. Steed?”

Will turned. The first mate, the ship’s second officer, was approaching them. With him was the bosun and several sailors. They were sober faced, but there seemed to be some hidden amusement.

“Yes, Mr. Lombard?”

“I think we’ve just spotted it.” He held out a telescope.

“Really?” Will turned around and peered out to sea.

“Oh, you can’t see it without help yet,” Lombard said quickly. “You’ll need the glass.”

“Thank you.” Will took the spyglass and held it up to his eye.

“You’ll have to look closely,” the bosun spoke up. “It’s still a long way off.”

“What is it, Will?” Alice asked, looking in the direction Will was facing.

He grunted, lifting his other hand to adjust the focus slightly. And then he straightened. “I’ve got it!”

“What, Will? What is it?”

Still he didn’t answer. After a moment he lowered the glass and turned back to the ship’s officer. “I guess you’re right. I thought we were still too far away.”

Seeing what was going on, other sailors and some of the passengers began to gather around them. Alice noted that one or two of the sailors were grinning and chuckling to themselves. Whatever it was, it must be something exciting. She turned back to Will. “What is it? What are you looking at?”

He turned solemnly. “It’s the equator.”

“What?”

The other passengers moved to the rail, peering out across the vast expanse of water. “Where?” one of the men asked.

“Oh, you can’t see it with the naked eye,” Will explained. “It’s still too far away.” He handed the telescope to Alice. “Here. You have to look really close. You can barely see it.”

Eagerly she took the glass and turned to brace herself on the railing. “Where is it?”

“Almost straight ahead. You have to keep your other eye closed tightly.”

She did so, searching through the lens, trying to see anything but the blue water.

“Do you see it?” Will asked.

“No. What am I looking for?”

“It’s a long black line right on the surface of the water.”

“Really?” She leaned forward.

Behind her she could hear the people chuckling softly now. She was so intent on her search that she gave it no thought. Then suddenly she stiffened. “There it is! I see it! I see it!”

Will was standing right beside her now. “You do? What does it look like?”

“It’s really fuzzy, but it’s there. A long dark line in the water.”

“That’s it,” he exclaimed. “That’s the equator.”

It was the laughter that made her pull away from the telescope. Several of the women were tittering. There were some loud snickers. A couple of the sailors—the same ones who had been grinning before—were laughing uproariously, slapping their legs or doubled over. Mr. Lombard was trying to repress a broad smile.

And then she understood. Her face flamed brilliant red. Will had reached out with both hands and was holding a piece of black yarn in front of the lens of the telescope. That was the “equator” she had seen.

Seeing her face and her expression, the whole company erupted with a roar. Will was grinning as if he had just found a pot of gold.

“You—,” she started, still blushing furiously.

“I’m sorry, honey.” This was a joke played on just about every sailing ship taking passengers across the equator, but it was always great fun when there was one so innocent and so trusting. And to have her own husband in on the sham delighted the crew. “If it makes you feel any better, I fell for the same trick the first time I approached the equator.”

“And you think that makes it all right?” she said archly.

The crew exploded again. They liked Will a lot, and from what they had seen of his wife, they liked her as well. That she would not take this lying down was all the more delightful. She looked around at the crew. “Gentlemen, I put you on notice that I shall have my day as well. I don’t know when. I don’t know how. But I shall get even.”

“Yes!” one of the men chortled.

“We’ll help, Miz Steed,” another sang out.

Will was laughing now too. “Doesn’t the Bible talk about turning the other cheek?”

“It does,” she said sweetly, “but unfortunately that page has been torn out of my Bible.”

Chapter Notes

On the first day of March, 1846, almost one full month after the first wagons left Nauvoo and crossed the Mississippi River, Brigham Young decided to wait no longer. Though he was feeling somewhat ill and would not leave the camp until evening when a carriage came to convey him, he did not have the others wait. Moving out from Sugar Creek about noon, with not all the wagons leaving, the Saints started west. They moved about five miles that first day. Brigham caught up with them later that evening. (See MHBY, pp. 57–58; CN, 9 March 1996, p. 12.)

Information about life on the ship Brooklyn, including the great storm that blew them so far off course, comes from reports of those who participated in the journey (see Paul Bailey, Sam Brannan and the California Mormons [Los Angeles: Westernlore Press, 1943], pp. 31–35; Church History in the Fulness of Times [Salt Lake City: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 1989], pp. 327–28).

Chapter 3

  When Caroline returned home from a brief trip to her store, wheeling Livvy in the baby carriage, the house was empty. Surprised, she took off her coat, got the baby out of hers, all the while calling out for Charles and Savannah. She sat Livvy up to the table with a piece of bread and butter and a cup of milk, then went methodically through the house, looking in every room. They were not there. Neither were they out in the backyard or in the barn.

Feeling the first touch of anxiety, she picked Livvy up, then went next door to Melissa and Carl’s house. “Yes,” Melissa said when she asked about Savannah, “I saw her about half an hour ago.”

“Where?”

“Pulling a wagonload of stuff out the gate of your house.”

“A wagonload of stuff?”

“Yes. You know, the little wagon Joshua gave her for Christmas a year or so ago.”

“Oh.” There were too many wagons and teams in Nauvoo right now and Caroline’s first thought had been of a full-sized wagon, which made no sense at all. “What kind of stuff?”

Melissa shrugged. “I couldn’t really tell. It looked like there were some clothes and some of her toys. I saw that big doll she loves so much.”

Caroline considered that. It still made no sense. Where would she be going with those kinds of things? “And she had Charles with her?”

“Yep. He was pushing the wagon.” She smiled. “I called out and asked them where they were going. She said they were going to the store. But then she turned south and not north.”

“She didn’t come to the store.”

“Maybe she meant the Red Brick Store. That would be the right direction.”

Caroline started a little at that. “Why would she be going there?” And then, realizing that Melissa wouldn’t know, she made up her mind. “Can I leave Livvy here while I go look for them?”

“Of course.”

Emma Smith glanced out the window; then, surprised, she walked over to it and looked more closely. Two children were just pulling a small wagon filled with an assortment of things up to the store. They were bundled up in their winter clothing, and for a moment she couldn’t tell who they were. Then the larger of the two turned and looked up at the store. There was no mistaking that face and the tufts of red hair poking out from beneath the woolen cap.

Smiling, she moved to the door and got her coat, then stepped outside.

Savannah looked up. “Oh, hello, Sister Emma.”

“Good afternoon, Savannah. How are you today?”

“Fine, thank you.”

“And good afternoon to you too, Charles.”

He had a scarf wrapped around the lower part of his face and looked like a bear cub with nothing but eyes peering out at her. “Afternoon, Sister Emma,” came the muffled reply.

“What brings you out on a cold, wintry afternoon?”

Savannah stepped forward. “Trading.”

“Trading?” Emma asked in surprise. “Trading for what?”

“For supplies to go west.”

Emma’s eyebrows lifted and she nearly smiled, but Savannah was very serious and Emma decided she had better be too. “I see. And who are these supplies for, may I ask?”

“For us,” Charles said proudly.

“And you are going west?” Emma asked. “I thought your family had decided they weren’t going to go west. At least not yet.”

Savannah’s wide green eyes shadowed momentarily. “That’s what Pa said, but me and Charles are praying every day that he will change his mind.”

“You want to go west.”

“Oh, yes. Very much.”

“Maybe it’s better if you wait until you’re sure you are going before you start trading. What do you think?”

There was an emphatic shake of her head. “No. If Heavenly Father answers our prayers, we have to be ready, don’t we, Charles?”

There was a nod of deepest gravity. “Yep.”

Emma was fighting now not to smile or laugh aloud. “All right, and what do you have to trade?”

Savannah turned to the wagon and pulled a dress off the pile of clothing at the back. “This,” she said, not without some sadness.

“But isn’t that the dress your father bought you in St. Louis for Will’s wedding?”

“Yes. It’s my best one. He paid fifty dollars for it.”

“Fifty dollars!” Emma looked suitably impressed. “I don’t think I could give you fifty dollars for it.”

“How about some sugar and salt?”

“For the dress?”

There came that emphatic nod again. “Won’t be much use for a dress like this out on the trail,” she said soberly.

“I see.”

Savannah turned now and went through the rest of her merchandise, holding it up and briefly describing it and its value, as though she were an old mountain man bringing in his load of furs for the buyers to evaluate.

The last thing she held up was a large doll with porcelain head, arms, and feet. She held it longingly for a moment, then handed it to Emma. “This is Betsy.”

“And you want to trade Betsy away?”

“I have to,” came the short reply.

Now Emma wanted to cry. “You’re absolutely sure?”

Savannah looked away. “We can’t expect Heavenly Father to bless us if we are not willing to give some things up.”

Caroline saw them while still half a block away, two small figures putting things in a child’s wagon in front of the Red Brick Store. She also saw a woman standing with them. She broke into a half run. “Savannah!”

Savannah turned in surprise, then waved cheerfully. “Hi, Mama!”

She came up to them, feeling a great relief and a growing anger. “Savannah Steed, where in the world have you been?”

Savannah looked surprised. “Here.” Her cheeks were red from the cold and emphasized the innocence in the wide green eyes that looked up at her mother.

Charles said nothing, and Caroline was sure that in this case, as in so many others, he was the follower. He had just turned six two weeks before, and though he had an independent streak of his own, he adored Savannah and seemed to enjoy being led into her various exploits, even though it frequently got them both into trouble.

Caroline bent down, taking Savannah by the shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me where you were going? I’ve been worried sick, Savannah. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“But Mama, I left you a note.”

That stopped Caroline. “You did? Where?”

“I wrote it on the kitchen table, and—” There was a sudden widening of the eyes, and then a sheepish look. “Oh!” She fished in her coat pocket and a moment later withdrew a crumpled note. “Sorry, Mama.”

Caroline straightened and blew out her breath and looked at Emma. “Hello, Emma. Have my children been bothering you?”

“Oh, not at all. I wondered if you knew where they were.” There was a faint smile. “We’ve been doing some trading.”

“What?”

Emma laughed softly. “Your daughter and I have been doing some trading. I think you and I had better talk.”

“You’ve been trading?” Caroline asked Savannah, still not quite comprehending.

“Yes, Mama, for when we go west.”

“Savannah, we’re not going west. Not for a long time.”

“Don’t say that, Mama. I’ve been praying and—”

Caroline threw up her hands, looking heavenward. “Savannah!”

“Well, we have,” she said, not flinching at all from her mother’s anger.

Caroline stood there, looking down at her daughter, this redheaded, stubborn imp that was so full of tease, so in love with life, and so much like Joshua sometimes that it frightened her. “You and Charles go on home now,” she finally said. “I’ll be along in a minute.”

“Yes, Mama.” Savannah reached down and got the handle to the wagon.

“No, leave the wagon.”

“Mama! You’re not going to trade back, are you?”

“Just leave the wagon.”

Her grip on it only tightened. “No, Mama, you can’t. I don’t want my doll back.”

Emma stepped closer to Caroline. “It’s all right,” she said softly. “We can work out something later if you wish.”

Caroline blew out her breath. “All right, but you go right home, young lady, and don’t you leave until I get there.”

“Yes, Mama,” Savannah said dejectedly. Charles nodded gravely and fell in behind the wagon to help her by pushing.

As they walked away, Caroline shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with that girl.”

“Give her a hug and a kiss,” Emma smiled. “I think she’s the most endearing child I’ve ever met. No wonder she had Benjamin wrapped around her little finger.”

“And her father too.” She turned away from the children. “So what all did she bring in?”

“Several dresses—probably her nicest, I would guess—a few toys, and that beautiful doll. She also had three dollars and fifty cents cash.”