The Voyage of Lucy P. Simmons (25 page)

“Impressive work, if I must say so myself,” the double-chinned queen interjected.

“Father seldom took them out. My brothers coveted them,” Pru continued, “but I wanted them all for myself. When Father refused to give them to me, I'm ashamed to say, I slipped a few from the deck. Not the most colorful, or the most interesting, just whatever I could grab. Took them with me when I left home, eventually had them framed.”

“Reunited at last!” the queen of diamonds quipped.

Pru strode across the room, removed the frame from the wall. She peeled the backing and carefully extracted each card.

“Let's have a better look,” Walter said. We gathered the cards from the floor. They felt electric in our hands. As I picked up the king of diamonds he smiled slyly. “Getting warmer,” he whispered, and winked.

“Why not arrange them by suit,” Walter suggested, “so we can see what's missing.” We spread the cards on the table—there were fifty-one, thanks to Ida, plus two jokers. Everyone joined in, sorting them into neat stacks. The cards began to shimmer around the edges. The flute, which had settled on the music stand of the piano, began to hum, and Coleman provided a quiet accompaniment. Marni moved her foot, lifted the queen of spades, and shoved her into the proper pile. They were all there, except the jack of clubs, which might be still churning around in Ida's gut.

I attempted to pile the clubs atop the diamonds. The air between the stacks seemed charged, an invisible force repelling them. Suddenly the collection of spades dove from Marni's hands and landed with a snap atop the diamond pile.

“Try the clubs now,” Walter said, his eyes aglow. Again I moved to pick up the clubs. This time my fingers met with a sudden shock.

“Ow!” I yanked away my hand, shaking out my tingling fingers.

“Hearts?” Marni suggested. “Red, black, red, black . . . ?”

Pru placed the hearts and then the clubs, the collection complete. The two jokers catapulted to the top of the pile, and the entire deck glowed.

“Maybe we're supposed to play with them,” Walter joked. “Beggar-My-Neighbor? Gin rummy?” The cards purred. He went to cut the deck and
ZAP!
“I'm not dealing,” he retorted, blowing on his fingers. The edge of the deck glimmered—teasing, taunting. I inched my fingers forward.

“Careful,” Marni warned. The deck pulsed, as though ruffled by an invisible hand. I stared at the intricate drawing on the back of the joker—a castle set on a shoreline, overlooking the sea.

“Wait,” I exclaimed, struck by an idea. With fingers atop the pile I slipped my thumb beneath and rapidly thrummed the stack from the bottom up.

Marni gasped. Pru leaned forward. “Lucy, you've got it!” Walter said. “Do it again!”

Quickly, evenly, I flipped the cards, the small explosion of displaced air whipping up an energy in the room that blew like a tempest, puffs of glittering mist exploding in colorful bursts. On the backs of the moving cards a picture story unfolded. Two ships, tiny characters having a duel, men carrying crates—no—chests! Making off with them. A woman waving a cutlass as the ship sails away. Onshore, men digging a hole on a hill beside the sea. A coffin? A chest? They laid it in the ground beside a church. The word
Clare
appeared in the clouds. We flipped the animated sequence over and over, until the story was clear. “Clare Island!” Pru cried. “Someone, or perhaps something, is buried on Clare Island!”

“Brilliant,” Marni whispered. “Your grandmother created a kinetograph revealing the location of the treasure—or, if not the treasure, at least a valuable clue!”

Pru nodded, her cheeks flushed with excitement. She looked at me. “It was your mother's and father's love that flowed through the whole of this, guiding you along, inspiring magic of every kind. And now, thanks to them—and to you—all of you—we have the grid, and we know where to search! All the pieces are coming together!”

Marni stood, her strength and color revived. Her fingers moved to the locket at her throat. “Your Edward and my mother began this. It's only right we join together in ending it. They just didn't see that whenever you seek vengeance, it always comes back to you. By cursing the Simmons clan my mother also cursed her own. My son—her grandson—wherever he is, is
both
a Simmons and a Lee! I just hope the sea hasn't already claimed him.”

“We can do this!” I exclaimed, filled with new confidence. “Find the treasure! Locate Marni's son! Dispel the curse!”

I looked between Aunt Pru and Marni, then to Walter. Thought of Addie, Annie, and Georgie, and my beloved Pugsley, waiting back in Adelaide, our ship at the ready. An affectionate glance toward Coleman, who, in his inability to speak, had unknowingly revealed the source of the curse. I had everyone and everything I'd desired, and now a clear destination.
It's all in the cards, dear one.
Mother, as always, had been right.

“We've little time to waste!” I said.

“To Adelaide!” Walter declared.

Pru nodded vigorously. “Then on to Ireland—Clare Island!”

“I've never been more ready for anything,” Marni asserted, her eyes sparkling with resolve.

Coleman sang, “
There's no stoppin' us now!
”

Aiden appeared at the door, perhaps drawn by the music, and found himself in a wave of excitement. “Is there anything you need me to do, miss?” he asked, clearly confused. He was addressing Pru, but I stepped forward. “We'll need a week or so to restore our strength and make a plan. We'll gather what we need. Then you can prepare the camels. Close the house.”

“Indeed!” Pru exclaimed.

“Fill in those holes,” Walter added.

“Crazy Yanks,” Aiden muttered under his breath, heading back out the door.

Coleman turned to the piano and launched into a reprise of the tune that had led me this far. The flute joined in. We raised our voices on the refrain—even Walter. “
A la dee dah dah . . . a la dee dah dee . . .”

And in a sudden burst of inspiration I improvised a final coda, singing out my fervent vow: “
‘The last of my family's been lost to the sea!'
”

An ocean of gratitude to the insightful, enthusiastic HarperCollins crew: Katherine Tegen, Claudia Gabel, Melissa Miller, and Alexandra Arnold. Thanks for believing in me enough to launch Lucy's story.

Also, thank you to Michael Dyer of the New Bedford Whaling Museum and to Bruce Williams, vice president of Captain's Cove, for sharing their expertise on tall ships and sailing—any inaccuracies in this regard are mine.

And lastly, great appreciation to Tom Lynch, for sharing his love of the sea and his willingness to dive into mystery.

A

      
aft—
area of the ship located behind the midpoint, near the stern

      
aloft
—the upper rigging of a sailing ship, where work is often done

      
arsenic
—a poisonous substance used to coat areas of the ship that are mostly underwater in order to prevent the growth of tiny organisms such as algae, barnacles, mollusks, and seaweed

B

      
batten down the hatches—
to securely close all doors and hatchways during rough weather in order to keep out water

      
belaying pins—
short metal or hardwood rods or pins used to secure (or belay) the rigging

      
bilge—
an area in the bottom of the ship (in the hull) where accumulated water runs that must regularly be pumped out

      
boom—
a spar (wooden pole) attached to the bottom of a sail

      
bow—
the front part of the ship

      
bowsprit—
a spar extending from the front of a ship (bow) to hold rigging in place

      
broaching
—when a sailing ship struggles to maintain its course and movement and must turn sharply

      
buntlines—
the lines (ropes) fastened to the bottom of a sail used to pull it up

C

      
caulking frow—
a tool used to jam oakum (a mix of frayed rope, oil, tar, or grease) between the timbers of a ship to keep it sealed watertight

      
combers—
long curving ocean waves powered by high winds

      
companionway
—a hatchway built into a raised windowed structure leading from the ship's deck to the cabins below by way of steep stairs or a ladder

      
crow's nest—
a partially covered platform above the tallest mast (main yard) that serves as a lookout (another term for the
masthead
)

D

      
dead reckoning—
an estimate of a ship's present location based on knowledge of previous position, elapsed time, and estimated speed

      
deck lighter—
also known as
deck prism,
a pointed or pyramid-shaped glass prism hung from the ceiling of a cabin belowdeck, housed in a small opening in the deck above. Hung point-side down, it is designed to reflect light into dark areas belowdecks (a safe alternative to electric, gas, or oil lamps)

      
ditty box
(or
ditty bag
)—a small wooden chest or a canvas bag in which a sailor keeps personal belongings, supplies, and/or tools

      
dogwatch—
a short on-duty period (two hours instead of the usual four) used to allow for meals and to vary the rotation of chores for the crew

      
duck sailcloth—
a type of canvas used for sails, often imported from the Dutch
(doek
is the Dutch word for
cloth)

F

      
figurehead—
a carved wooden decoration set on the prow (front or bow) of the ship, generally a bust or figure that, in some way, evokes the spirit or history of the vessel

      
fo'c'sle
(abbreviation of
forecastle)—
sailor's quarters and deckhouse in the front of the vessel where supplies may be stored

G

      
gaff
—the pole (spar) that secures the upper edge of a four-cornered sail

      
gallant—
a flag flying on a smaller mast

      
galley—
kitchen of a ship

H

      
halyard—
the ropes that raise (hoist) a sail attached to a spar (pole)

      
helm—
the ship's wheel

      
hull—
the frame or shell of a ship

L

      
lanyard—
a rope to tie off something

      
lazaret—
a small area of a ship where supplies and provisions are stored

M

      
mainsail—
principal sail on a sailing vessel

      
mainyard—
a horizontal yard (pole) that holds the mainsail

      
manila rope—
a strong flexible type of rope woven from hemp found in the Philippines that does not weaken in salt water

      
masthead
—a small platform set on the mast above the mainyard (horizontal pole) used as a lookout station (another word for the
crow's nest)

      
mizzen topsail—
the sail just above the lowest sail on the mizzenmast

O

      
oilskins—
outerwear (jackets, pants, hats) made of cloth that has been treated with oil to make it waterproof

      
out studding sails—
hoisting long narrow sails used in addition to the regular sails for use in good weather

P

      
point—
to change the direction of a sailing vessel

      
poop deck
—a raised deck in the rear of the ship that forms the roof over a cabin space below

      
prow—
the front part of a ship that slices through the water—another term for
bow

R

      
ratlines—
rope ladders that run mast to mast

      
renipping the buntlines—
tightening the ropes fastened to the foot of a sail that have become slack

      
rigging—
the collection of ropes (lines), masts, sails, and yards (poles) that interact with wind in order to sail a ship

      
rollers—
large powerful waves

      
royal yard—
the yard (pole) that holds the royal sail

S

      
sextant
—a navigating tool used to help chart a course or determine the latitude (distance north or south of the equator) of a ship based on the angle of the moon, sun, and stars in relation to the horizon

      
shrouds—
rigging left in place that runs from the masts to the sides of the ship to support the mast

      
spanker gaff
—the pole that supports a special sail called a spanker located at the back (aft) of the ship

      
spar
—a wooden pole that helps secure and support rigging

      
square-rigger
—a ship with sails hung on horizontal yards

      
stern
—back of the ship

      
strike
—to take down a sail

      
studding sail
—long narrow sails used in addition to the regular sails for use in good weather to add sail power

      
stun'sl
—an abbreviation for
studding sail

T

      
tack—
zigzagging in order to sail into or away from the wind