Quarantine: A Novel (39 page)

The guards seemed both baffled and frightened by this woman.

She took her son’s cane and held it out before her, as though it was a saber, and then she pulled him with her through the open gate.

Mr. Sumner climbed up into his chaise, followed by his mother.

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Orderlies who had gathered by the gate cheered. As the carriage

pulled away, Mr. Sumner had difficulty holding the reins while

at the same time trying to keep his wig on his head.

The younger Mr. Sumner, Samuel, had been pleading and

crying throughout all this, and now he was on his knees in the

dirt. The guards decided to leave him be—the gate was shut and

the orderlies began to return to their duties. Still Samuel clawed the earth with his bare hands. He only stopped when Mr. Clapp

approached and helped him to his feet and brought him over to

Leander.

“He can help with the stones,” Mr. Clapp said. “It might prove

therapeutic.”

Samuel appeared in a daze, overwrought.

“All right,” Leander said. “But both of you are to do as I say.

Is that understood?”

Obediently, Mr. Clapp took Samuel by the arm. “Come, we

shall perform our penitential duties together.”

Mr. Clapp and Samuel did what they were told, loading bricks

and stones in the cart, which they then pushed along the path to the tents. The old man often seemed distracted, but there was a

humor and understanding in his eyes that Leander found discon-

certing. When they were in the tents laying stones on patients,

Samuel was quite useless and paralyzed with fear.

They worked steadily into the evening. After they laid hot

stones on two children, a brother and sister who weren’t more than eight or nine years old, Mr. Clapp muttered in disgust, “Neither of those children will survive the night. All this ‘doctoring’ amounts to a little quinine water or a concoction of powders learned from some superstitious old hag.”

“All that’s missing is the frogs in a boiling pot,” Samuel said.

They arrived at the fire pit and, using the tongs, began loading the cart again. “And these hot stones and bleedings,” Mr. Clapp

said. “They’re no more likely to provide a cure than any of the

medicines taken off that ship.”

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“What this place needs is not medicine but a larger hole for

the dead.” Samuel looked up from his work, staring at Leander.

“No one should understand that better than you, boy.”

“What do you mean?” Mr. Clapp asked.

“He comes to work at my father’s house after his entire family

dies.”

The old man paused and gazed curiously at Leander. “So why

are you here?”

“To help,” Leander said.

“Help?” Mr. Clapp said. “This place is hopeless. The sooner

these people are dead and buried the better. Tell me, how do you benefit from being here?”

“Benefit?”

Mr. Clapp dropped his tongs in the cart and came over to

Leander. “That’s the only question you should ever ask yourself:

‘How do I benefit from this?’” He waited, and when Leander didn’t answer, he said, “You don’t know—you don’t know because there
is
no benefit. Your entire family’s gone. You’re all alone in this world.

It owes you nothing, nothing but what you can take from it.”

Samuel came around the cart now and stood next to Mr. Clapp.

“Unless you want to die.”

“Is that it?” Mr. Clapp asked. “You want to die, too? Join your

family in the next life?”

Leander recalled how he had been unable to pray after his

mother and sister and Papi had died. It was as though he’d been

numb with cold all this time, and now suddenly his skin had

warmed up enough to sting. “I don’t want to die.”

Mr. Clapp seemed pleased. “That’s a start. That’s the first

honest thing I’ve heard from you. So why are you here?”

In the distance there came the ringing of a hand bell.

“Does that mean dinner is served?” Samuel asked.

“I believe so,” Leander said.

“I’m starved.” Samuel pulled off his leather gloves as he began

walking up the path.

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Mr. Clapp remained a moment longer, staring at Leander. And

then he too followed, saying, “Maybe people volunteer to work

here because the food’s so good and plentiful.”

“Yes,” Samuel said. “I’m sure that’s it.”

316

Thirty

Giles slept fitfully and Marie spent the night on a cot

next to him, ready with a cool, damp washcloth when he awoke.

More than anything, he wished to roll on to his side, get off his back, which was developing sores. Or better, to stand up. But he could only remain on his back, and there were often shooting

pains in the lower leg that had been removed. He recalled many

sailors complaining of this, ghost pains which followed an ampu-

tation. He didn’t understand how a limb that had been severed

could still cause such pain. “I would like to know how can you

feel something that’s not there?” he whispered to Marie. “It’s

not just where the leg was cut—I can feel all of it. The calf, the foot—the whole leg.”

At first light he awoke again and the canvas tent above him

seemed to be rotating, moving slowly clockwise. It was not an

unpleasant sensation—since the amputation he had been so still,

it was a relief to experience some kind of movement. But within

moments he became chilled. He shivered so uncontrollably that

his teeth chattered.

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Marie took a blanket from her cot and laid it over him, but it

made no difference. He shivered, although sweat ran down into

his eyes. Suddenly, without warning, his stomach convulsed, and

everything came up, burning his throat, the bile running out of

his mouth and down his neck.

R

Leander was awakened at dawn by Esther L’Amour. “You come,”

she whispered.

He got up and followed her out of the tent. The camp was

quiet. Many orderlies were sleeping on the grass. Esther led him to the gate, where a solitary guard sipped a bowl of tea. Beyond the gate, the Mall was shrouded in fog. Leander could just barely see a figure in the distance, standing beneath a maple tree: Cedella, with a small satchel beside her in the grass.

He let himself out through the gate. When he reached Cedella,

she flung her arms about his shoulders and hugged him desper-

ately, until he took her by the shoulders and held her away so he could see her face. She had been crying and looked as though she hadn’t slept.

“I have been dismissed,” she said.

“I’m glad you’re out of that house,” he said.

“You don’t understand—you can’t understand,” she said hastily.

“I will never find a position at another house—” She stopped

when Leander placed his hand on her cheek.

“You aren’t alone,” he said. After a moment, she placed her

hand over his, pressing his fingers into her skin.

“There’s something else, Leander. It’s Benjamin; he didn’t

intend for this to happen and he feels guilty because I am being replaced by a girl who is—” She patted her stomach. “They are

to be married.”

“I know this girl. She works at Moss farm,” Leander said. “I’m

happy for them.”

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“I am too, but he asked me to warn you. He overheard Fields

talking to Horseshoe and a couple of the stable boys. They were

planning to free Master Samuel from the pest-house. Benjamin

didn’t hear all of it. He wasn’t sure how or when, but he was certain that that’s what they were talking about.”

She tried to pull him close, but he stepped back from her.

“We should keep our distance,” he said. “I have been too much

among the sick.”

“Couldn’t you leave this place and come away with me?”

“And go where? There are guards on all the roads leading out

of Newburyport—though some can be bought off.” She looked

at him, hopefully. “No,” he said. “I can’t leave. Not now.”

“I have nowhere to go,” she pleaded.

“But you do. You came here, looking for me, Cedella Evora.”

Relieved, she offered the faintest smile. “I did, Leander Hatch.”

“Listen, go down to Joppa Flats, to my grandfather’s house.

It’s the one with the newer shingles on the north side and a green door.” He removed the piece of leather that hung around his neck and handed it to her. “That’s the key to his door. Stay there. I’ll come as soon as this is all finished. Will you do that?”

She stared at the key in her hand, which had a rusty nail tied

to it. “What is this?”

“That is what I salvaged from my parents’ house which was

burned down on Orange Street, and one day it will be the last

nail I drive into my new house on that same lot.”

She held out her hand. “But I can’t just stay in a stranger’s

house. . . .”

“My grandfather’s neighbors next door—Colin Thurlow and

his wife Isabel—you tell them I’m here at the pest-house and

they’ll help you. All the clamming folk in Joppa will. Tell them we are to be married soon as this is finished—”

“Leander Hatch,” she said, this time indignantly.

After a moment, he said, “I see.”

“Do you?”

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“I’ve never done this before. I suppose I might do you the favor of asking first?” He thought that her eyes softened, but only a

little. “Will you? Please, marry me?”

“I will have to think on it.”

R

The new maid delivered the breakfast tray to Miranda’s room. The girl’s uniform was too large and her blond hair was not properly pinned up beneath her cap, allowing wild curls and strands to

drape the back of her neck. The tea cup rattled in its saucer as she crossed the room. Miranda watched in silence until the tray had

been safely placed on the nightstand.

“What is your name?”

“Rachel.”

“You were no maidservant at Moss farm.”

“No. I tended to the livestock, worked in the fields and in the

kitchen.”

“I can see that by your hands.”

For the first time the girl glanced at her, momentarily.

“Are you afraid of me?”

“I suppose I am.”

“Ma’am.”

The girl looked at her, confused.

“Say it.”

“Ma’am.”

“Good. Don’t lose that fear, and I will make a maid out of you,

at least until you get too big to traipse up and down the stairs.

Then we’ll put you to work in the kitchen.”

“Shall I pour, Ma’am?”

“No. Pouring tea will be tomorrow’s lesson. Go tell Fields I

want to see him immediately. And when you leave the room, you

curtsy. Now show me how you do that.”

The girl took a step backward and curtsied awkwardly.

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“Pathetic,” Miranda said. “Now go.”

After the girl left the room, Miranda poured her tea and stirred in three lumps of sugar. It didn’t take Fields a minute to knock on the door.

“Enter.”

He came into the room and closed the door behind him.

“Ma’am?”

“Tell me once more, the preparations for tonight—they’re all set?”

“Yes, Ma’am, after dark. The arrangements have been made

and I will oversee the expedition myself.”

“Who else knows of this?”

“No one, other than the three men I’ve selected to accompany

me.”

“And my son?”

“He is unaware of your plans, I’m sure.”

“Just as well he doesn’t meddle. After you’ve got Samuel, take

him down to the wharf.”

After a moment, Fields said, “As you wish, Ma’am.”

She raised a hand from her lap, dismissing Fields. But when he

opened the door, he said, “Ma’am, the new girl, is she satisfactory?”

“Not in the least, but we’ll just have to break her in. They turn out better that way.”

“It seems to be the case, Ma’am. And I’ve sent word along High

Street regarding that Cedella.”

“Very well. The only way to keep qualified staff is to make

them understand that there is nowhere else to go. Next thing you know, they’ll be expecting better wages, and that would lead to

absolute chaos. Being a sea captain must be far easier than running this household. A ship’s crew is more obedient than my minions,

scullions, and maidservants. Perhaps I should introduce flogging?”

“That would certainly be an appropriate inducement, Ma’am.

And if that fails, there’s always keelhauling.”

“How long have you worked for us, Fields?”

“Oh, decades, Ma’am.”

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“And you’re just now developing a sense of humor? Or have

you managed to conceal it from me all this time?”

R

A hard rain set in and by nightfall, the pest-house had been turned into a field of mud. Wind gusts caused tent canvas to snap and

billow. A group of men including Leander, Mr. Clapp, and Samuel

were instructed to go to the gate and help unload supply wagons

that had just arrived. They worked slowly, walking in single file, removing sacks, crates, and barrels and carrying them into the

tent where foodstuffs were stored.

One of the wagons was from the Sumner stable, and though

it was dark, Leander recognized the two men seated on the

bench—Horseshoe, holding the reins, and beside him, wearing

a cloak and a broad-brimmed leather hat, was Fields. As Leander

walked by, a burlap sack balanced on each shoulder, Horseshoe

said, “Smells something awful in here. What, do you burn the

dead?”