Rapture of the Deep: Being an Account of the Further Adventures of Jacky Faber, Soldier, Sailor, Mermaid, Spy (33 page)

"The fact that you, my devious little rabbit, would allow us to do so assures me that we would find nothing, so we shall not look."

From the corner of my eye, I notice something that Flaco does not. His ship has drawn away from us, perhaps a little farther away than he would like. Then there are sounds that Flaco
does
notice—cries of alarm from his ship, the crack of shots being fired.

Uh-oh...

Flaco's head snaps up. His ship is pulling away from our side. "What? What is...?" And then he realizes—it's
mutiny!
He has been betrayed!

"Feo, you bastard son of a whore!" he shouts, shaking his fist. "Bring the ship back here!"

"Lick her boots, weakling!" shouts El Feo, now astride the quarterdeck in full captain rig, complete with feathered turban. The distance between us is closing again. "We just had an election, and you lost.
El Diablo Rojo
now has a real Captain!"

Flaco Jimenez stands straight and tall, glaring at his mutinous former First Mate.

"You go over and ask the girl, oh so polite," continues El Feo. "'Oh, please tell me where is the gold?' like a
maricón,
a fancy boy. What happened to your
cojones,
Flaco? When did you lose them? I do not know, but I think you lost them today for good! No ship, no famous pirate Jimenez!" Much laughter from the pirate ship, where stand many men with muskets aimed at us. I recognize none of them—Flaco's loyal men must be locked below, or else dead.

Grinning pirates holding cutlasses line the lee side of the
Red Devil
and they beat the hilts of those swords against the rail and shout out insults and curses.
Muerte! Muerte! Muerte! Death! Death! Death to the gringos! Death to Jimenez! Death to the English girl! Muerte!
They mime drawing their swords across their throats and point at us.
Muerte!

Well, we'll see about
that!

"I will now come over and show you how a man asks a stupid girl a simple question," El Feo says, coming over to the rail and pulling out a long thin knife from his broad leather belt.
"Compadres.
Shoot the old woman Jimenez." All the muskets are then trained on Flaco's chest.

I take a step away from Flaco and say, "Davy ... Tink ... ready...
FIRE!"

Both of my lads jerk their lanyards at the same instant.

Crrraaack!

Flaco has wisely hit the deck, as bullets fly over his head and splinters fly from the side of the
Red Devil.

El Feo bellows out,
"Tiren los cañones,"
and his six twenty-four-pound portside guns roar out.

Craaack! Craack! Craaack! Craaash!

But the
Red Devil
is so much higher than the
Nancy
that the balls sail through our rigging and not through our hull. We lose some lines, and the foresail spar, but that's it, thank God!

"Reload, lads! Daniel, Joannie! Powder, grape! Hard Left your helm, Jim!" I shriek. The kids scurry below and return lugging bags of powder and canisters of grapeshot.

The
Nancy
turns and presents a much more narrow target for El Feo's guns. I note with some satisfaction that it takes his men a lot longer to reload than it does mine.

"Ready, Jacky!" shouts Davy and Tink.

"Hard Right!" I shout. "Fire when they bear!"

The
Nancy
turns to starboard and my lads lean over their cannons and...

Crrraaack!

Davy shoots and then Tink jerks his lanyard and ...

Crrraaack!

The grapeshot rakes the deck of the
Red Devil,
and there are screams from the other ship—a bee is small but she may still sting a bull—and many men lie still, but not El Feo. He has taken refuge behind his cabin during this exchange of fire.

"John! Finn! Take over the guns!" I shout. "Brothers, take up your rifles!" John Thomas and McGee rush to reload the cannons while Tink and Davy pick up their rifles and fire. Two men on the other ship pitch over and fall. Too bad neither of them is El Feo—he now comes back to stand on what is now his quarterdeck, confident that we have done our worst.

Not yet, Feo...

Flaco, in his rage, hurls down curses so obscene that even I haven't heard them before. El Feo's mother is especially featured in many colorful ways, I note, even though my mind is fully occupied with the fight.

On my order, Davy and Tink climb up to the crow's-nest with their long rifles and powder horns slung over their shoulders, cartridges in their belts. Once there, they commence to rain bullets down on
El Diablo Rojo,
and more men fall victim to their marksmanship.

"Pistola!"
pleads Flaco, holding out his hands to me. I pull out my pistols and flip one to him. He catches it, then leaps onto the ratlines, yelling, "Show yourself, Feo, you miserable dog! Show yourself, coward!"

El Feo, for an instant out in the open, looks up at Flaco, raises his own pistol, and fires and shouts,
"Tenga su madre, maricón!"
but misses. Then Flaco fires, but he, too, misses, clipping only the tip of one of the feathers in El Feo's headdress. Feo takes that as a sign to once again duck behind his cabin.

"That's it, hide yourself, you cowardly bastard," shouts Flaco. He, himself, is not cowering but instead hangs there in full view of the musketeers on the other ship, and I worry for his safety. Bullets buzz and snap all around us. Although none have yet hit flesh, as far as I can tell, they are bound to get lucky soon, lousy shots or not. We've got to get out of here.

"Another pistol, Jacky,
por favor!"
yells Flaco, but I do not give it to him.

Instead, I say to faithful Higgins, who has stood by my side during all this hurly-burly, "Higgins, with our pistols, let us take down their helmsman."

He draws his two handguns and aims, as do I with my remaining one.

"On the count of three, we will fire. One ... two ... three!"

Our pistols bark out and the man at the wheel grabs his chest and falls. I don't know which of us got him, but one certainly did ... and I don't want to know.

"That'll slow him down," I say as we see
El Diablo Rojo
suddenly yaw to the right, being deprived of its helm.

Then I shout, "Left Full Rudder! Let's show him her tail! Go!"

We leap away from the pirate—
Good girl,
Nancy!—and though he chases us for a while, he cannot close the distance. And as night falls, he turns away, his nose well bloodied.

I let out the breath I have been holding for a long time and say, "Good work, all. Secure from Battle Stations. Let's have dinner."

Flaco stands desolate at the rail, watching the ship that once was his disappear into the dark. I know the terrible crushing feeling of losing one's ship and put my arm around him. "Come, amigo, you shall have dinner with me tonight in my cabin, and we shall talk of old times and maybe plot for the future. There will be another day." I give him a squeeze. "Hey?"

He looks down at me and nods.
"Gracias, mi corazón."

We repair the damage, bind up any wounds, and set sail for Cuba.

Lieutenant James Emerson Fletcher
Onboard HMS
Dolphin
En route to Kingston, Jamaica

Jacky Faber

Onboard the
Nancy B. Alsop
En route to Havana, Cuba

My dearest Jacky,

For once I am actually penning this letter instead of just making it up in my mind, for there is the very good chance, God willing, that I will see you again in a week and you might actually read it, unlike those many others I have written and sent out on the winds of chance.

This will
not
be one for our children to read...

I have the midwatch tonight, and so I must turn in early to my lonely bunk. But I know that sleep will not come easy for me tonight, for I will be again reliving our last night together in your cabin.

"Turn around, Jaimy, please," you had said after we had finished our dinner and were preparing for bed. I did so, thinking it uncommon shyness on your part. I heard a whisper of cloth, then...

"All right, Jaimy."

I turned around and beheld you and understood.

"And what do you think of your saucy sailor girl now?"

I was astounded to see you wearing the same impossibly light, filmy little dress you wore on that glorious day in Jamaica three years ago.

You lowered your eyelashes in the way that you have and whispered, "It's my Kingston dress, Jaimy, the one I wore on that happy day in Jamaica. Do you remember?"

Ah, yes, well I remember.

"I had it in my chest in Boston and brought it with me, in case we should, by some impossible chance, be married—you did say you wanted me to wear it on our wedding day, didn't you?"

I rejoiced to see you in that dear relic, but I liked it even better when it floated to the floor and I beheld you in your natural state. You stood in the soft glow of the lamplight, your skin impossibly bronzed in some places, the purest white in others. Then, smiling, you came to me and put your arms about me, but ... I must stop thinking of that, else I drive myself mad.

I have taken to washing in
very
cold water each night before turning in to my solitary bunk, but I comfort myself with the possibility that you and I might very soon lie together again.

The midwatch comes in three hours. I shall try to sleep; but when I close my eyes, there you are again.

Good night, Jacky. With all my affection, I remain

Yours,

Jaimy

Breakfast is over and cleaned up after, and I'm checking out the condition of my fighter in the coop behind the stove. I lift El Gringo to feel his drumsticks.
Hmmmm ... much, much stronger now,
I think with some satisfaction. The ever increasing lead weights that have been tucked into his vest have been good for him. He should be very light on his feet now when the vest comes off.
Beware, El Matador.

Daniel and Joannie sit in front of Jemimah and listen like mindful students. Would that the scamps paid as close attention to the studies I assign them.
Grrrr
...

Jemimah clatters some pans and starts in...

"So it happen that one fine day Brother Rabbit was hoppin' along a path that a lot of the animals used, goin' about their business, him singin' a happy song, and glad to be off by himself for a spell. Y'see, Sister Rabbit did have her way with that man, and now there's a whole bunch of baby bunnies all over the rabbit shack, gettin' underfoot all the time and settin' up a fuss just like you two, and sometimes a daddy just gotta go off by hisself for a bit and pretend he still be a free-rambling man.

"By 'n' by Brother Rabbit come to a bend in the road and he perks up them big ears o' his 'cause he hears somethin' goin' on up ahead. When he rounds the bend, he sees a bunch of men diggin' a hole right in the middle of the path and he duck back in the bushes and lays back his big ol' ears to watch what they doin,' him bein' a curious sort of rabbit.

"He watches 'em for a while and he's thinkin', 'They's diggin' a mighty deep hole there and it's gotta be some kinda trap for us pore animals, but they dug it so deep wit' the sides so steep that they must have the big critters in mind.' The rabbit puts his front paws to his chin and thinks on it some more as he watch the men come out of the hole and lay light branches across it and then scatter some leafs over that so it look all natural. 'Nope, that trap ain't for us rabbits and possums and 'coons and such. No, dey lookin' for somethin' else ... sumthin' like dat big ol' brown bear dat's been lately tearin' up the Man's beehives down at the plantation and stealin' all his honey ... hmm...? Or mebbe it's dat ol' red fox what's been down in the Man's henhouse, pluckin' out some o' his fine hens and leavin' only the feathers behind ... hmmm?'

"The men take up their shovels and pickaxes and head on off, back to the Man's plantation down in the valley, leavin' the place all quiet. Brother Rabbit sits up, grins him an evil grin, and heads off back down the road, lookin' for a certain pair of rascals."

Jemimah pauses to clean an imaginary spot from her big skillet and then hangs it on its hook on the side of the stove. She is well aware of the effect this pause has on her impatient audience. When she figures the kids have squirmed enough, she goes on.

"Soon Brother Rabbit spots Brother Fox and Brother Bear lyin' under a persimmon tree, asleep and snorin' away. The rabbit figures he'll get behind a bush and wake 'em up with a song, pretendin' he don't know they're there. He opens his mouth and sings.

Oh, de Squirrel he got a bushy tail,

Possum's tail is bare.

Raccoon's tail is ringed all 'round,

And stumpy goes de Bear.

Stumpy goes dat ooooold

Brown bear'

"The fox's ears perk up and he cracks open an eyelid. He nudges the bear, who grunts and keeps on sleepin'. Sleepin' is one thing bears is really good at.

"'Wake up, Brother,' says the fox. 'I think I hears dat rabbit comin' along.'

"Well, that gets up the bear. He wake up droolin', cause he been dreamin' of some nice rabbit stew and now the main ingredient in that kinda stew was comin' near.

"Brother Fox and Brother Bear get to their feet and listen as Brother Rabbit puff out his chest and sing up another verse.

'Brother Fox he got a bushy tail,
Muskrat's tail is bare.
Rabbit got no tail at all,
Just a little tuft of hair.
Just a little tuft of hair
Back there'

"Then he burst right into the clearin' where the fox and bear is waitin'.

"'Grab him, Brother!' shouts the fox.

"'Feets, do yo' stuff!' shouts the rabbit, and he spin about and he dash off down the road with Brother Fox and Brother Bear right behind him. They can run fast, but the rabbit be little bit faster. Still, he don't get too far ahead of them, no, he just wave his little cottontail in front of their noses and they keep on pantin' after him.