They pull the blanket up taut again for Ephraim, who's now standing in the window. The flames are right behind him now. All the windows below have melted out and thick tongues of fire lick out at the wooden sides of the church. It is going up fast.
"Jump, Ephraim," cries Betsey, tears pourin' down her cheeks. "Oh, please! Jump!"
He does. He lands feet first on the stretched blanket and it serves to break his fall enough so he is not hurt. He still hits the ground hard, though, the upper windows bein' real high and him bein' real big. As soon as he's upright, Betsey's arms are around him and cryin' about the bloody cuts on his face and arms.
"Nay, it's nothin', Betsey, they ain't deep. See, they're stoppin' already."
"Reverend Mather," sobs Betsey, still clinging to him, "did you...?"
Ephraim shakes his head. "Kill him? Nay. He ran up to the steeple. Let his God kill him."
And then it's Millie's lovin' tongue I feel on my face and I starts into blubberin' from all the shock and terror and the chokin' smoke and I don't make much sense just, "Millie you sweet sweet dog you saved my life you did you did you did." And then my friends are pullin' me to my feet and kissing my cheeks and pullin' me away from the heat of the doomed church and the sparks that are dartin' about everywhere like fireflies in the wild wind that's swirlin' about. I see Sylvie's sleeve next to my face and there's little burn holes in it from the embers floatin' down and about. Poor Sylvie, your shirt, I think crazily, as if that was important now in all this. My mind is churnin' around and I got the mad urge to run—run!—'cause I'm the one what started this fire and everybody's gonna be mad at me and oh, God, there's Wiggins and I know he's lookin' to arrest someone for all this and I know who it's gonna be and I pick up my seabag and start weavin' away.
There's the rest of the upstairs girls in their white nightgowns blowin' about them in the crazy wind, wringin' their hands and wailin', and there's Amy runnin' toward me and Millie loping out to meet her...
Then all eyes go to the church steeple, 'cause it's now completely engulfed in flame and from inside it comes this high awful shriek, a long scream of a soul in terrible pain and in utter desolation. Then there's this rending sound of something giving way and the great bell comes loose from its belfry and falls seemingly slowly through the burning timbers to the ground, and when it hits the cobblestones, there's this deep, sad bonggggg. I wouldn't have thought that something that heavy could bounce, but it does and it turns over slowly in the air and comes down again and bonggg still softer and then one more faint bongg and then it rolls over and comes to rest.
Finally, Janey, the bell has tolled for thee.
But the screaming continues. It can't still be him ... No, no, it's not. It's horribly not. The roof of the stable has caught fire from the sparks and the horses trapped inside are screaming in terror.
Amy is runnin' to me but I yell at her, "Amy! The horses! Let the horses out!" and I point at the stable, its roof ablaze. She stops and turns, confused, and then runs for the stable, followed closely by Henry and Herr Hoffman.
"Look!" shouts one of the girls. "The school!"
The school, too, is on fire. The embers blew into the bushes around the foundation and they flared up and the first floor is already in flames. "Is everybody out?" I shout and Peg says, "All mine are!" and the upstairs girls look at each other and can find no one missing. There's more men streamin' up the hill with buckets and axes to help ... there's John Thomas in that bunch filling buckets at the pump and passin' 'em along a line to throw the water on the base of the fire but it ain't gonna do 'em no good, it's too far gone, it's—
"Oh, my God!" says someone, pointing up. "It's Mistress!"
I look up and sure enough, there she is, standin' at an upper window, lit from the light from the burning church. She is in her nightgown and her long gray hair is loose and flying out wildly from her head. The big entrance doors are a sheet of flame. There's no way out that way and if the first floor is gone, then she can't come down through the kitchen. She's trapped.
"What's she doing?" asks a girl on the edge of hysterics.
"Jesus," says I, "she's takin' her precious needlework off the walls, that's what she's doin." Damn!
I start runnin' to the side of the school and I bellows out the sailors' call for help "John Thomas! To me! To me!" He jerks up his head and hands his bucket to another man and follows me.
"Get a ladder! There, on that shed!" I order as we round the corner. "Put it up there by those rungs!" He does it and I'm up to my old window in an instant. I throw it open. Thank God they didn't lock it when I was gone. "Follow me up! I may need you to carry her!" and with that I'm through the window and in my old room.
Good. No smoke yet. I race across and open the door and head down the stairs to the hall. I can smell smoke now. I can see tendrils of it comin' up between the cracks in the shrinkin' floorboards.
There she is, calmly taking down the framed examples of fine embroideries, samplers, and needlework from the hallway wall and tucking them under her arm.
"Mistress! Come on! You've got to leave!"
She calmly turns and faces me. "Why?" she asks. "The British are coming?"
"Only one, Mistress," I say.
She looks me in the eye. "You. Of course. You."
"Even so, Mistress," I reply. "And now we must go. The school is on fire."
"You were the worst of my girls, you know..."
"I know, Mistress, and I'm sorry, but we've—"
"And here you are at the end of things. How appropriate. How utterly appropriate."
The smoke is getting serious now and I can see the flames below through the cracks. The floor is hot, the varnish on it curling in the heat.
"Where are my girls?"
"They are safe, Mistress. Now you must go join them."
"No, I can't leave my school."
"You must take care of your girls, Mistress. They are outside and they need you. There will be another school. You must go, now." John Thomas, where the hell are you?
"Now, look at this one," she says, conversationally. "This was done by one of the Cabot girls. Now, that was a girl! And that one was done by a Lowell and..."
And, finally, I hear John Thomas's boots on the stairs.
"Take her!" I shout, and he scoops her up and heads back up the stairs. The framed things fall from her hands and crash to the floor, their glass shattering. I pick up the Cabot one and follow them up. The far end of the hallway floor gives way as I make it back into my room.
John Thomas and his load, which is protesting vigorously, are disappearing out the window when I spot the Lady Lenore hanging on the wall where I left her weeks ago. I put the strap over my shoulder and bid farewell to my sea chest and I, too, go out the window.
When I hit the ground, I sling on my seabag and go around to the back of the school. The girls are enfolding Mistress into their midst, their hands fluttering about her like little white birds. The stable doors are open and horses stream out, screaming, their eyes wild and rolling with fear, and in the middle of them is Amy.
And there's Wiggins with his rod, again, and the vile Dobbs is with him and he's pointin' at me and Wiggins is comin' at me and I got to go.
My mind is reeling and bent on escape and I see dear Gretchen and I call to her and when she goes by me I grab her mane and swing up onto her back and away we pound, away, away from Boston burning behind me, 'cause sure as hell they're gonna blame this on me, and it warn't all my fault.
* * *
Epilogue
Jacky Faber
New Bedford, Massachusetts
June 20, 1804
Miss Amy Trevelyne
Dovecote Farm Quincy,
Massachusetts
Dear Amy,
I hope you read this letter and do not just throw it away, seeing it's from me who you were so mad at last time we spoke because I brought shame and disgrace to your family by my actions. I guess all that lady stuff just ain't going to stick to me.
Anyway, Great Good News! I've been taken aboard a whaler! Can you believe my good luck? It seems that these Quaker whalers ain't shy at all about sailing with women, as all they care about is the profit to be made. The Increase, they call it.
When I rambled into New Bedford town I, of course, went straight to the docks and there in front of the ship was a table set up and the Captain and his First and Second Mate were signing up crew members for a voyage to the North Sea grounds and I marches up hold as brass and says that I am the notorious Jacky Faber what can climb the rigging in a living gale to trim a luffing sail, and after they're done laughing, the sods, they take me on for a quarter share. Not as a sailor, of course—I'm to be Companion to the Captain's wife, who is big with child, and to help her when her time comes. Also to tutor her young son, who is also coming along. After the child is born, she and her brood will get off in England to be with relatives and I'll be put off then, too, and I can go see what's going to happen with Jaimy. Either way, I got to know.
The Captain's wife is a real sweet lady and I know we'll get along fine. The Captain's a bit of a queer duck, what with him stumping about on his peg leg, shouting orders like he's the very Angel of the Lord, and glaring out from beneath his shaggy brows, but the crew says he knows his business, one leg or not, and so I am easy in my mind.
We're leaving real soon, so I got to hurry and get this off in the post. Say good-bye to the Sisterhood for me, and tell them they'll always be held close in my heart for as long as I live. And dear Peg, of course. Tell her she was like a mum to me and I'll never forget her for the love and care she gave to an outcast stranger. The boys, too. I never got to say thanks to all for my daring rescue. Say farewell to Randall for me, too, and give him my thanks for saving my rather shaky virtue. Tell him to mind his studies at that college and to leave the girls alone. And a big hug for the blessed Millie. Tell them all not to worry about me. It's funny, but lately I've been getting the feeling that I'll be a lot safer at sea.
I left the sweet Gretchen at a farm near the shore. I saw two children playing with a ball and I stopped and they petted her and she seemed to like them and their father came up and there were cries of "Father! Father! Can we keep her, please? Please!"—and I told the father how I came by her and didn't want to just sell her to anyone who might abuse her and he seemed kind and agreeable, so I gave him a paper showing where she came from and all, and he gave me a ride back into town in return. I believe she is well placed, Amy. Tell Mistress she can take the cost of her off the money still in my name with the school.
And as for you, sweet Amy, I pray that someday you will find it in your heart to forgive me and once again call me Sister, that dearest of names.
The Captain calls and we must obey. The gangway is pulled, the sails are loosed, and the lines are cast off.
Pray for me, Sister, for I go to the home of the whale.
Your friend,
Jacky
* * *
L. A. Meyer, Curse of the Blue Tattoo
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