March 28, 1854
5 weeks at sea
From somewhere beyondhis half-opened eyes, Will recognized the flickering light of a gas lamp. The familiar swaying of his hammock was absent, and instead he felt something hard beneath him. His body ached with pain, and he worked to push through the strange fogginess that clouded his brain.
“The doctor said as soon as you showed movement to give you more water.”
Will pried one eye open to see Scotty Rollins sitting on a wooden chest in the corner of a poorly lit room. Will wasn’t in his own cabin, and most assuredly they were deep below deck. In an instant, the boy was on his feet, bringing a small wooden cup to Will’s mouth.
“Thank you,” Will said.
“You are also to have some broth, sir.”
Will nodded again, and Scotty put his hand behind Will’s neck and lifted his head enough to ladle some liquid into his mouth.
As soon as he swallowed, Will opened his mouth again. “Who sent you with all these instructions?” Will guessed at the person. Shewasalways looking out for him.
“The doctor.” The boy glanced to his right.
Oh. So not as he thought. And they must be in the sick bay. “What about his assistant, Miss Fowles? Has she given you any instructions?”
“That pretty lady you are always talking to?”
Even he’d noticed. That was not good. “The young woman that assists the doctor with the sick.”
Scotty dropped his voice. “She’s here, in the sick bay.” He pointed across the room to the other corner. “But I am supposed to watch over you.” Will instantly wished she was the one attending to himself.
Will cleared his throat and asked for some more water. Once Scotty had helped him, the young sailor dropped his voice low. “We had some men take you from your cabin during your delirium. I am afraid you are not to leave here. There’s been three more people besides you come down with smallpox in the last day, making eight total aboard.”
So, the dreaded smallpox had found him after all. Will managed to raise a hand to his throat. His mouth ached like it had been seared, and he could feel a raised bump on his neck. He knew the sickness started in the mouth.
“I’ve been praying for you, sir. Heaven knows we need you.”
That was kind of him, but Will had more pressing questions.
“Have you ever had the speckled monster, Scotty?”
“Never, sir.”
“Never?” He closed his eyes tight, anger pulsing through his weak body. “Then you should not be here.” He cleared his throat. “Who assigned you to me?”
“Mr. Crenshaw, sir.”
Will gritted his teeth. That man didn’t have any sense of decency. This just proved that he thought Rollins was completely dispensable.
“Scotty, you listen to me. I want you to go to your station, wash all of your clothes, and borrow a spare change of clothes if you haven’t got one. Wash your bedding. Then I want you to be above deck as much as possible, drinking in that fresh air. And if Crenshaw gives you a hard time when you are about your duties, you go and tell the boatswain that Mr. Boyd gave you these instructions. He’ll listen to you.” He drew a labored breath. His passion for the boy’s safety surpassed his remaining physical strength, and he felt his tired body wilt into the sickbed.
Fear of both being punished and getting sick warred on the boy’s face, but he finally swallowed and nodded.
Not a minute after Scotty exited the door, Ann came to his cot. “Did you need something, Mr. Boyd?”
His headache pounded, but even despite that, her voice was like a balm. “No, I dismissed Rollins. I can’t have him waiting on me. The boy will surely contract the disease.”
Ann’s eyes grew tight. “I see. Mr. Crenshaw gave strict commands that only Mr. Rollins attend to your every need.”
“Nearly a death sentence for the poor lad.” He began to shake his head, but it hurt too much, and he halted the motion. “Surely there’s someone inthe sick bay that’s already had the pox and could assist me instead?” Will tried for a smile.
Ann lifted one brow. “I suppose I could fill in, now that he is gone.”
