Anna Ulter: A Novel

Schroeder

Anna Ulter

A Novel

Copyright © 2016 David M. Schroeder.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-6009-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-6008-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016917041

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 12/7/2016

Contents

Chapter 1: Cuba

Chapter 2: Anna Ulter

Chapter 3: Duero

Chapter 4: About to Die

Chapter 5: Liebana

Chapter 6: Los Ojos

Chapter 7: Edward Chase

Chapter 8: The Church

Chapter 9: Ema

Chapter 10: Arthur Durant

Chapter 11: Juan

Chapter 12: Agustin

Chapter 13: The Surfman

Chapter 14: Mercury

Chapter 15: Dry Tortugas

Chapter16: Cafe Vellon

Chapter 17: Strell

Chapter 18: Joshua James

Chapter 19: Battle

Chapter 20: Kizzy

Chapter 21: Stranded

Chapter 22: Yellow Jack

Chapter 23: Duero

Chapter 24: David Marshall

Chapter 25: Riley

Chapter 26: Quicksilver

Chapter 27: Maria

Chapter 28: Wells

Chapter 29: Isabel

Chapter 30: Jack Light

Chapter 31: Duero

Chapter 32: Carlos

Chapter 33: Maria

Chapter 34: Elizabeth Harrison

Chapter 35: Caught

Chapter 36: The Cave

Chapter 37: The Surfman

Chapter 38: Carlos

Chapter 39: Agustin

Chapter 40: Hazen

Chapter 41: Jack Light

Chapter 42: LeFrank

Chapter 43: Kizzy

Chapter 44: Strell

Chapter 45: Agustin

Chapter 46: Juan

Chapter 47: Maria

Chapter 48: Haso

Chapter 49: Duero

Chapter 50: The Medinas

Chapter 51: Indian River Station

Chapter 52: The Hunt

Chapter 53: Ema

Chapter 54: Carlos

Chapter 55: Jack Light

Chapter 56: Juan

Chapter 57: The First Day

Chapter 58: Dusk

Chapter 59: Maria

Chapter 60: Jack Light

Chapter 61: Ema

Chapter 62: The Second Day

Chapter 63: Maria

Chapter 64: Elizabeth

Chapter 65: Duero

Chapter 66: Anna Ulter

Chapter 67: The Scales

Chapter 68: North

Chapter 69: The Atlantic

Chapter 70: Attack

Chapter 71: The Trap

Chapter 72: Daybreak

Chapter 73: Anna Ulter

Chapter 74: The Surfman

for

David, Sarah, and Rachael

Prologue

Anna Ulter is a sequel to The Surfman. It is in fact its second and final part. Surfmen were members of the United States Lifesaving Service, men who patrolled the nation’s beaches and helped mariners who were in trouble. They would row out to sinking ships and ferry passengers and crewmen ashore, or shoot a line to them and pull them to safety. Members of the service are credited with saving 186,000 lives between the years 1878 and 1915, when they became the U. S. Coast Guard.

Our story: Elizabeth Harrison is heir to Boston based Harrison Ship Lines. A minority partner of her deceased father wants to marry her and take control the company, but she refuses him. Before he became her father’s partner Guillaume LeFrank was a slaver, and, through men who worked for him, had never given up trafficking, smuggling, and piracy. LeFrank decided to eliminate Elizabeth by selling her to a man named O’Neill who sold slaves in Virginia. He abducted her aboard a company ship, Hathor, but during the voyage south she escaped and jumped from the ship along the Delaware coast. Surfman Jack Light, walking along the beach on a regular night patrol, pulled her from the surf and brought her to safety. She begged him to hide her until the ship sailed on and Jack, seeing how fearful she was, agreed and took her to his cabin a couple of miles from the Lifesaving Station. When she recovered she left him and made her way back to Boston.

When LeFrank sent one of his men back to Delaware to look for her Jack realized that she was still in danger and he travelled to Boston to try to help her. Together they went by train to Newport News, Virginia, enlisting the aid of Federal agents to capture and arrest LeFrank. They were not successful and during the attempt LeFrank fired a cannon at Jack’s boat and badly maimed his hand. They did, however, capture O’Neill and from him learned the details of LeFrank’s sale of women and cargo over the years, including his haunts in the Caribbean.

In the cabin aboard Hathor where Elizabeth was held she found names scratched inside a compartment door, put there by women he had sold into slavery. The first woman to vainly cut her name into the wood was named Anna Ulter. Others, seeing this, continued to add to this grim story, adding their names as well as dates and places and how they were taken.

Before she escaped Elizabeth vowed that if she survived her captivity she would try to find these missing women. She and Jack married and enlisted the aid of the two Federal Agents, Strell and Greggers, and another sea captain named David Marshall, who had helped them pursue LeFrank. They joined her and Jack, were given interests in the shipping company, and were given commands of their own: Strell and Greggers aboard Hathor, Marshall on another Harrison ship, Robin.

There were thirty names in all. Although it was fifteen years since she had been taken they decided to try to find Anna first. It was for this reason that they changed the name of the ship from Hathor to the Anna Ulter.

CHARACTERS

Maria: Name Anna Ulter took for herself.

Ema: Her daughter.

Agustin Medina: Head of powerful Duero family.

Isabel: Agustin’s wife.

Carlos: Medina son.

Alana Luna: Isabel’s sister.

Juan: Agustin’s right hand man.

Haso: Freed slave. Runs all of Medina farms.

Kizzy: House slave.

Gustav Strell: Captain of the Anna Ulter

Anton Greggers: His friend and first mate.

Arthur Durant: Sailor. Sent to Liebana to search for Anna.

Edward Chase: Former Surfman. Put ashore in Duero to search for Anna.

Riley: Crewman on the Anna.

Arnold Wells: Crewman on the Anna.

Guillaume LeFrank: Slaver.

Richard Hazen: Captain of Robin. LeFrank’s man.

Karl Lux: Captain of LeFrank’s ship Marozia.

Kolek: Lux’s first mate.

Samuel and Cyrano: Musicians in Cafe Vellon.

Ashanti: Rebel Leader.

Hat: Rebel Leader.

Cizin: His man.

Sillis: Slave at cane plantation.

Surfmen:

Matthew Hastings, Station Keeper

George Kimball, his assistant

Old Gunn

Calvin Massey

Jonas Hope

Tom Winslow

Will English

Henry Crackstone

Ben Fuller

John Goodman

Charlie Gardiner

CHAPTER 1

Cuba

Surfman Edward Chase stood in the bow of the longboat and looked out over Guantanamo Bay. There was little to see. Beside him Arthur Durant scanned the shoreline, listening to the waves scraping patiently at the land, and searching for a place to come ashore. Faint white lines etching the black water said the beach was close and Durant motioned to the tiller man to bring them straight in. When the keel of the boat ran along the bottom Chase and Durant splashed over the side and with a brief look back at the men in the boat waded quickly onto the land.

They ran to the tree line and crouched down in the heavy understory vegetation. They waited, listening intently. Looked back. The boat was gone, returning to the ship somewhere out in the deep water. Once they had caught their breath they nodded ‘good hunting’ to each other, slung their packs over their shoulders, and moved off, Durant toward Liebana in the south, Chase to the north, bound for the city of Duero. Chase was a surfman, in excellent physical condition, used to moving through the night along the edge of the beach. The sand was firm, shining, coarse compared to the soft fine grains he knew along the Atlantic, but he felt at home. Durant was a sailor and he walked more slowly, cautious of his footing and wary of the jungle beside him.

Duero slept. It was late when Chase arrived at the edge of the city. Dogs barked when he came to the first homes, but had little interest in rousing themselves to approach him. He went to the port, saw the tangle of ships in the harbor and was able to discern among them the huge ship which had brought Durant and him to the island. She swung at anchor in the stillness. Satisfied with his night’s work, he moved back into the heavy vegetation and made his way around to the western edge of Duero and found a place to sleep among some long sloping palm trees.

Ema was awakened by the barking, but she didn’t get up. Everyone in the house would be asleep, even the slaves. She wondered why the dogs barked. Probably the spirits; everyone knew that they went about when the world was asleep and they wouldn’t be bothered by men. The dead of night they called it. She knew the stories, but still wanted to try to see them. Some day. Some day. Her mother, Maria, had the room next to hers, in the part of the house where the family lived, even though she was a slave. I’m a slave too, she thought, but the lady, Isabel Medina, treats me like I am her own daughter, or maybe, granddaughter. And her husband Agustin Medina dotes on me. Ema didn’t understand. She was now fourteen, turning from childhood and beginning to wonder about men and women, the world, herself. And there was Carlos, the Medina’s son, a handsome young man of sixteen. They had grown up together, but to Ema he was not like a brother. No, he was the man she was going to marry. She didn’t know how, or even what that meant, but she knew she was going to do it. She smiled at that and drifted off to sleep.

Early in the morning her mother, Maria, smoothed her brow, pushed the wispy blond hair back from her face and smiled down at her. She adored her daughter and in equal part feared for her. Maria loved Ema more than she loved herself. It was true, for Maria had nothing else to live for, only Ema. The future was near, too near. What would happen to Ema when she was a woman. Already men looked at her. Maria treasured these moments alone with her, watching her sleep, making believe Ema was still a little girl, her little girl. But that is not what she was. Not any more.

Isabel called for her and Maria went to her bedroom carrying coffee, a sweet bun and fruit. Her mistress was in a good mood, smiling and chattering about the day. Agustin was away and she was going to meet with her cousins for lunch and maybe look in shops in the city for new things for her to wear. Maria agreed with everything Isabel said, just as she always did. She had been Isabel’s slave for fifteen years and knew how to get along with her. It was a matter of agreeing, flattering, being quiet, consoling. Maria would do anything she could to protect Ema and avoid punishment. In all this time she had never felt the lash, never been scarred like the other slaves. She was terrified of those scars, lining the back forever, reminders of what one was. Property, something to be disposed of, something that could suddenly become useless. It never got better or went away, and now that Ema was no longer a child each day was more terrifying than the last.

The household organized itself. The servants began to clean, cook, and do laundry. Isabel told Maria that she was going to take Ema with her into the city. Maria began to make excuses, saying that she needed her to help around the house, at the market, to teach her more about service. Isabel would have none of it and flashed her dark eyes and spoke in rapid Spanish, so fast that it was hard to believe anyone could talk that way. Maria had spoken nothing but Spanish for the whole time she had been in the house, but could never talk so fast.

‘Ema is mine, not yours, Maria. If you do this again I will send you away and you will never see her again. Sell you, do you hear. Sell you!’ Tears poured from her eyes and Maria hung her head and said nothing. Isabel went from fiery hot to cool in a moment and said, ‘Dress her in her best, the blue I think, and bring her to my room before lunch. Now go.’

Maria rushed from the room and had to lean against the hallway wall to slow her breathing. Her heart burst within her chest, and she squeezed her eyes hard to fight the tears. She had to stop before Ema saw her. Ema had to be happy. It was what Maria lived for. She knew her daughter would have a wonderful time with the ladies, but it was all false, for it would be nothing for one of them to take her, and Maria would simply never see or hear from her again. She would die if that happened. Die.

When time came for Isabel to leave, the slaves brought the carriage around to the side of the great house and stood back as the freemen came out, bright in livery, white with gold ornament at the collar and flourishes at jacket cuffs, and attended to Isabel and Ema. Maria watched from a window and noticed how some of the other slaves stared at Ema with hatred. Isabel’s pet, who got to have her own room in the house, who was not forced to work, who was never beaten. Ema was in such great danger--from the masters and from the slaves. Maria had warned her over and over, but the girl could never understand how anything could happen to her. She was always happy, optimistic, eager for the future. The future was what Maria feared most.

Agustin’s majordomo, a tall Spaniard man named Juan, sat on a black horse and watched as they made ready to leave. He was in charge of the entire property, protector of all those therein and in Agustin’s absence had total authority over the household. Even Isabel could not overrule him. Maria had heard Agustin tell Juan to take a particular interest in Ema. He allowed Ema to do what she wanted and watched her in a way that frightened Maria. He was always polite and formal in his dealings with Maria, and always seemed restrained when he spoke to her. She couldn’t make up her mind about him, whether he was a friend to her or a threat. To his back the slaves called him ‘Los Ojos’, the eyes, for he watched. And he knew. He was quick to act when anything was out of the ordinary at the estate. He did not mistreat the slaves, nor did he tolerate misbehavior. When Juan led the carriage off the grounds and the gates to the estate closed behind them Maria went about her work. She knew she must make sure all was in perfect order for when Isabel returned. No use reawakening her fury. She made the house slaves do everything in her presence to be sure it was done right. They were sullen as they always were with her, more today since they had seen Ema go off with the mistress, given treatment as if she too were a lady, instead of a common slave like they were. It angered Maria, this resentment, since she was in charge of them and never spoke harshly to them, or told the owners to have them punished. She helped them in their work and gave them extra food if she could take it from the kitchen without anyone noticing. No matter, they hated her for sleeping in the house, having nice clothes, being white, eating with the family like a poor relation taken in as an act of charity.

The day dragged on and Maria could think of nothing but seeing her daughter, hoping she was okay.

While the ladies lingered over their meal and ate up rich dishes and fresh gossip, Ema became fidgety and it aggravated Isabel to see her looking about and picking at the food. She beckoned to Juan who stood in a shadow at the entrance to the restaurant and told him to take Ema for a walk. The girl jumped up and thanked Isabel and she and the other ladies laughed at her enthusiasm. Like a set of toy dolls they all had the same severe black hair pulled tight to their heads and collected in a bun at the back just above the neck. They were always fascinated to see Ema, like her mother with light skin and hair, as they said, ‘Like an angel’.

Juan let Ema lead the way. She walked toward the waterfront as she always did when visiting the city, eager to look at the ships. They were the world to her, strange vessels that could go anywhere, see anything. It was romantic, this traveling to other lands and more than anything she wished she and her mother could go on one, go beyond where you could see land, and visit the places they came from. There were people of all kinds along the docks. A Chinese man walked by and Juan had to step between him and Ema to keep her from stopping and trying to talk to him. Ema daydreamed one of her familiar night dreams: she’d marry Carlos and he’d come with them. Her mother would have to know--she couldn’t keep her love for Carlos secret then. No one knew, not even Carlos. But he’d marry her and come with them, she knew he would.

Her reverie stopped. Ahead of her was the biggest ship she had ever seen. She began to run and Juan had to take long strides to keep up with her. He told her not to run, but she ignored him. When she got to the ship she slowed and stared in wonder. It was an enormous ship, larger by far than any that had ever been in the port, tall and black, menacing. There were many gun ports along the side and she could see men on board handling cargo, coming onto the ship or off of it she couldn’t tell. A man with a dark hat pulled down low on his head stared intensely at her. It interested him to see this light-skinned young girl staring up at him. Juan glanced at the vessel but seemed to have no interest in it. He only watched Ema, wanting to turn her around and go back to the mistress, to be sure all was okay with them. He would give her a minute more and then insist she go. Finally she turned and walked with him back the way they had come. She took one last look at it, stopped for a moment and stared at the broad stern of the ship. ‘What a strange name for a ship’, she said out loud. Juan let his gaze follow the invisible line of hers and together they stared at the giant letters. Her eyes danced in amusement; his burned into the wood. Juan said nothing, merely tilting his head for her to walk back to meet the carriage. When they returned to the Medina’s house Isabel ordered Maria to see to her packages and Maria took them from the house slaves and carried them into Isabel’s bedroom. Ema was there bubbling over about the food, how pretty the ladies were, what fun she had seeing the ships. ‘Juan couldn’t keep up with me. I’m faster than he is. I could beat him in a race.’

Talk like this made Maria fearful, but Isabel smiled, anxious to tell her husband what Ema had said. She hugged Ema, ‘Juan could eat you up like a little banana, Ema. You could never get away.’ Ema pouted for a minute, but it only made Isabel laugh some more. Ema turned to her mother and said, ‘Oh mama there was a ship in the harbor. It was the biggest ship in the world, all black … and it had the funniest name. It was painted on the back in great gold letters. The words said … oh I forget.’ She looked around for Juan, but he wasn’t there. ‘I remember, mama, it was a funny name, it said Anna Ulter.’

Ema laughed and twirled around and said, ‘Someday I want a ship named Ema, after me.’ She turned from Isabel to her mother, but her mother wasn’t there. She had collapsed onto the floor, and lay there unconscious, as if dead.

CHAPTER 2

Anna Ulter

Ema stood by the bed, staring down at her mother. Isabel held her hand and shushed her weeping and led her from the room. ‘Let her sleep. She’ll be better tomorrow.’

She pretended to be asleep, but heard what they said. She knew that the opposite was true. She would never be okay again. If it weren’t for Ema she thought she would take her own life. The reason she had fainted was that her true name was not Maria. It was Anna Ulter.

When it was quiet in the house, Maria, as she now thought of herself, rose from her bed and walked to the window of her room. The house was open and cool air coursed around her. The night was moonless, but full of jungle sounds. Bats swirled through the clouds of insects and there were the ever present screams of creatures hunting and killing among the trees. In the blackness she pictured herself leaving the theater. It was fifteen years ago that she had moved to Boston from the middle of America, hoping for a career on the stage. She was given an opportunity by a director at the Marbury Theater, primarily because she sang beautifully and promised to accept any role offered to her. Her lodging was in a dingy rooming house a few blocks from the theater where she spent her nights alone, reading her lines and rehearsing as best she could by the light of a single candle. And then one night, walking home, she was approached by a man who seemed to materialize before her on a dark street, moving so gracefully that she thought he must be one of her fellow performers. He gave her a gift from LeFrank, a gold clasp, and wrapped her in a black cloak lined in red. The clasp was heavy and its intricately worked surface picked out light from the stars overhead, flashing in her hand like magic. The stranger, Salete, showed her how the clasp held the collar of the cloak, whispered an enchantment in her ear and led her to a waiting carriage. It clattered over the cobblestone streets and brought them to a large house in a part of Boston where she had never been. To LeFrank’s house. The home of a very rich man. He was waiting for her and in the matter of moments he’d charmed her into thinking she was the only person who could give his life meaning, and make him complete. He’d seen her in the theater, he said, and fallen in love with her. She listened, unbelieving, but wanting his words to be true.

Young Anna took a chance. There would, she reasoned, never be a better one. LeFrank courted her furiously. ‘I have to have you, Anna. I’ll give you everything, make you famous, shoot your star high into the heavens." Maria had long ago put this from her mind, but now remembered it as if it were yesterday. It floated there, just outside her window, this image of LeFrank projected in the night air before her, showering her with gifts, kissing her passionately, tasting the wine on her lips. She quit the theater and spent her days with him. It was the happiest she had ever been. He promised to marry her and soon afterward took her to a small country church where a priest named Father Barry performed the ceremony. Anna wasn’t Catholic, but there were no questions asked, so she played along like the actress she was, and in the span of an hour she ceased being Anna Ulter and became Anna LeFrank. She didn’t know that Barry was in LeFrank’s employ and that the wedding was a sham. Even now, a pitiful slave trapped in a place of suffering and woe, she still believed she was LeFrank’s lawful wife. Had he come for her? Why on earth had he given Hathor her name? She welcomed the thought that she might be insane.

Immediately after their wedding LeFrank took her aboard his ship, Hathor, and they put out into the Atlantic in the cold and dark. For a few days Anna stayed in his cabin, in his bed, doing everything she could do to please him. But somehow it was not enough and LeFrank sent her away. Salete locked her in a cabin by herself for the rest of the voyage. There was not a word of explanation from LeFrank, only his glance at Salete. Every day she tried to get Salete to help her. ‘Let me see him’, she begged. ‘He loves me … I know it.’ Taking another tack she went on, ‘Bring me paper. At least let me write to him. I know he doesn’t want this. I’m his wife … he loves me.’ But Salete said nothing, only looked at her with a detached curiosity. As much as anything it was his look that caused Anna the most distress. He was not unkind to her, not that, it was more that he regarded her as something other than human. She didn’t count for anything. Nothing about her made any difference to him, The ocean was calm, the wind constant, and the ship raced south. She was in a cabin near the stern on the starboard side and from time to time she could see the shoreline from her window. They were coasting, which meant that they sailed in sight of land, a practice used by many sailing masters to keep on course and help them determine their position, but one that exposed them to the danger of running aground. LeFrank was arrogant and sure of himself, yet in all things but this, he exercised great care. He planned and schemed in his business dealings and trusted no one, but scorned the waves and the wind. At sea he braved what others would not.

And then they landed in Newport News, Virginia. In a whirlwind of activity that confounded her she was taken from the ship to a warehouse and sold to a man named O’Neill, who in turn sold her to Agustin Medina. Bid on her--bought her. Pain surged across her chest and down her arms. That same day Medina’s ship left Virginia for Cuba and she had lived in his home ever since.

Pieces of her life story came at her like sheets of rain blown in a storm. Like the hurricanes that pounced on Duero every year, terrifying everyone, white and slave alike, equals in their fear. Her home in the Midwest. Thoughts of her family, people who never knew what happened to her, and surely had now forgotten her. She remembered the day she had carved her name onto a panel in her cabin. She did it out of desperation, scratching the words ‘Anna Ulter’ and the date she was taken on the inside of a closet door. If she had written anything else there she didn’t remember it. As she did it she faced the fact that LeFrank had intended this all along. This ship in the harbor could only be Hathor, now, for some unimaginable reason bearing her real name. LeFrank, her husband, here … how can it be? What can it mean? Could he have come to get her? Perhaps he has been searching for me, wanting to have me back with him. She thought about how she looked, what being a slave had done to her, even as a house maid who was for the most part treated well. And then the thought hit her: what if he found out about Ema? What would he do? Sell her into slavery too? Anna didn’t know if Ema was LeFrank’s daughter. Or if it was Agustin Medina who had planted the life inside of her. Anna had no idea. Agustin and Isabel were sure the child was his. It seemed to Maria that Ema never thought of it. The few times in her life she asked her mother about the identity of her father she’d given the child vague answers and changed the subject.

There was a rosary on a table by the window and out of habit she reached out for it, held it, the edges of the cross biting into the palm of her hand. The beads slipped through her fingers, each one a little prayer clicking out joyous and sorrowful mysteries. She could see the tiny nails piercing the hands of the figure of Jesus and thought of pushing the whole crucifix into the flesh of her own hands, making them bleed. It was tempting to do this, to let all of her blood flow out of her until there was no more. No more Maria, no more Anna, no more blood. ‘If I did that,’ she thought, ‘two people would die at the same time, Anna and Maria.’

It was the thought of blood that made her recall the voyage from Newport News. Before Salete took her from Hathor he took away all of her clothes, and gave her a shift made of coarse brown cloth. It had no sleeves and only covered her to her knees. She had nothing on beneath it. And then a man came in and put her in shackles. Anna had a powerful voice which carried easily and could fill an opera house, but the sight of her wrists, encased in iron and chained together, chilled her to her soul and took away her mind and her senses. She stared about her but could understand nothing, and there was no sound for that. Salete took her ashore and led her, barefoot, into a long low grain warehouse, identified by a sign over the door as warehouse nineteen. When her eyes adjusted to the gloom she realized that there were a number of people there, all of them in chains. Intense pinpoints of light rained down on them through holes in the metal sheet walls, making them look like leopards. Guards with pistols and whips leaned against the walls of the building watching them. Some threatened the slaves with machetes. She was the only white captive there; all of the others were black or brown, Negroes or islanders. She was shocked to see that many of them were women, some of them naked. O’Neill and several businessmen entered the warehouse and stood in a circle negotiating and setting terms. They were dressed as plantation owners, slave traders, ship captains, local officials or overseers. She moved toward them and called out, ‘Please listen. I don’t belong here … I’m married to … ‘ She never got to tell them more for in a lightning instant a whip tore through the air and cracked an inch from her eyes. She fell to the ground and covered her face. The men returned to their deliberations; none of the slaves moved even an inch. She was unaware of it but the bidding for her was fierce and she brought O’Neill several times what he’d paid LeFrank for her. When the bargaining was finished the slaves were counted out and sorted, papers were signed and Anna, along with a large group of men and women, were led outside and herded along the quay to a large ship owned, as she later learned, by a man named Agustin Medina.

Maria was exhausted. She walked away from the window and went back to her bed and sat down. There was a plate of food on her nightstand, left by Ema and Isabel, and she ate a little, slumped over and barely keeping her mouth closed as she chewed. Thinking maybe some wine would help her sleep, she left her room and went into the office where Agustin kept his papers, his books, and crystal decanters of strong drink. She knew that slaves were killed if they were caught stealing, let alone drinking spirits, but she didn’t care. The rum burned her throat and stomach, but left a strange sweet taste in her mouth. After taking several long gulps right from the bottle she went back to her room and curled up on her bed. The last time she had tasted alcohol had been in LeFrank’s cabin those long years ago--fine delicious wine, the expensive wine a loving husband lavishes on his priceless wife. Except there had been a price and O’Neill paid it to LeFrank and Medina had paid far more to O’Neill.

Half dreaming, Maria remembered the days aboard Agustin’s ship. With the troupe of newly purchased slaves she was forced into a hold below the main deck and in a vain attempt to hide crawled to one end of the room and leaned against a bulkhead. So many prisoners were jammed into the space that soon every inch of it was full. The men and women sat side by side, shoulders and hips touching, legs stretched out before them. Facing them was another row of people so that the soles of their feet almost touched. It was along this narrow aisle between them that the overseers walked, kicking at their legs, threatening their cargo with their whips.

Sitting next to Anna was a tall African man, clad only in ragged pants that came to his knees. His bare shoulder and arm pressed against her and his skin was like fire. He was feverish and he moaned softly from time to time. All of them were silent, and, eyes downcast, tried desperately to think of things other than the days immediately ahead and what awaited them at their destination. They looked at each other in terror as the thick mooring ropes were cast off and the officers above them yelled orders to the crew. Bare feet answered those orders and men ran, drumming their heels on the deck just over the heads of the slaves, white men’s feet a board’s thickness above the upturned black faces. All of them cried out when the ship moved. It rocked and groaned and pitched to the side, pressing some of them against each other. Once it was fully under sail and rolling with the waves many of them lost the contents of their stomachs and control of their bowels. Anna had never been around anything like this in her life and she was sure she would die from it. Overpowered by the stench, she felt dizzy and disoriented. The man next to her lost consciousness and fell against her. She tried to push him away but could not. She sobbed until her nose and throat were sore and her head pounded and then she too passed out.

Late that day a slave poured a whole bucket of seawater over her head. She woke, confused, shivering, trying to cover herself where the water plastered her shift against her. People cried out all around her as they were doused. One of the overseers, who called himself Devil, screamed at them. ‘Get ready lazy dogs. You eat now. Devil feed you. No more til tomorrow so eat!’ With that he signaled the other guards to pass out bowls to the slaves and to walk along spooning slop into them. Many of the people there had had this same treatment on ships from Africa and knew to eat whatever and whenever they could. They wolfed the food down, pushing it into their mouths with their fingers, licking the bowl and looking at others near them who might refuse to eat or had spilled the food onto themselves or onto the filthy deck. Anna forced herself to eat the vile pasty porridge and seeing that the man next to her was too weak to hold his bowl stuck her fingers into it and rubbed it onto his lips. She was putting her fingers into his mouth when Devil kicked her hand and the bowl at the same time. Other slaves scrambled for the spilled food and Anna clutched at her fingers which had been cut on the man’s teeth.

Devil yelled, ‘Take man upside. I teach him.’ The guards pulled him to his feet and dragged him up the companionway to the main deck of the ship. He looked at Anna, ‘Maybe I take you too, have fun me and you.’ He laughed and the other overseers laughed with him. Everyone on the ship heard the cracks of the whip and the screams of the man. An hour later the guards pushed him down the steps and dragged him to his place next to Anna. He had blood all over him. Anna was in a panic at the sight of so much blood and was afraid he would die right there, pressed against her. She had never seen anyone dead or dying and all of it was worse for the fact that there was no escape from it.

But then it came to her that she couldn’t sit there and simply do nothing, so she ripped a patch of cloth from the hem of her shift and folded it into a pad. Moistening it with her own sweat from her face and neck and arms she used it to wash the blood from the man’s face and then, leaning him away from the ribs of the ship blotted the fierce cuts on his back. This close she could see that these were not the first stripes he had received. It scared her, these cuts of the lash, and she vowed at that moment that no matter what she had to do she would never suffer them. She would die whole, unmarked. She had seen scars on the backs of some of the others around her, even on the breasts and bellies of some of the women and young girls. It would not happen to her. As she dabbed gently at the tears in his flesh the man woke up, wailed horribly and began to thrash around in pain. Anna wrapped the pad around the chain between his wrists and forced it into his mouth and he bit down on it with all his might. This calmed him some and with excruciating slowness he pressed his back hard against the side of the ship and tried to stay still. He turned his head and looked into her eyes and she stared back, but then looked away. The other slaves stared at her with blank faces and she couldn’t tell what they were thinking.

Several days passed in this way, Maria recalled, and then they were all taken up onto the deck. The sun was high in the sky and they felt it burn them as they squinted at their feet. Devil spoke to them in English, Spanish, and some unintelligible patois and told them to haul water from the ocean and wash. The guards took their ragged clothes and Anna was crushed by the thought of all of those men looking at her. Devil pushed them together and Anna felt great shame as the other slaves’ bodies slid over her. Because her skin and hair was so light the men on the ship singled her out to touch and prod and torment with their comments. Still, there was some relief from the water and being able to breathe the quick bracing air. Though somber and sad to return to their prison the slaves obeyed at once when Devil yelled at them to go below. Soon after they were returned to their places Devil came down and grabbed Anna’s arm and pulled her to her feet. ‘Master wants you. He see you. You lucky … be better luck if I take you.’ He pushed her up the steps laughing, ‘Better luck wi’ me … fun you an me.’

That night she met her owner. A crewman gave her a clean shift and a brush for her hair and left her alone in a small room by the Captain’s cabin. A few minutes later he pushed her into the cabin and sat her at the table. She smelled the wood and wine and tobacco, and the man. And the food. Agustin Medina watched with interest as she ate the food he had ordered for her. Not just some whore off the streets he thought, maybe a serving girl who knew how to act around noble families like mine.