She glanced back over at him. “Where did you hear that?”
“From a friend.”
“Master Webb said there ain’t gonna be no freedom for me there.”
The door opened again, and the captain barged into the galley, staring at Persila. “Why aren’t you mopping the deck?”
“Master Webb told me to make tea.”
“I’m the only master you have on this boat.” Captain Crandall took the kettle off the stove and set it back on the shelf. “I’ve paid good money for you and your work, and I expect you to answer only to me.”
Persila’s shoulders sank. “Yes, sir.”
Alden stepped forward. “I can mop the deck.”
“I told you to do the dishes.”
Alden stood taller. “I can do both.”
Captain Crandall scrutinized him for a moment. “Fine.”
Persila reached for the teapot again, but the captain slapped her hand. “You and Payne can mop the deck together. If your master has a problem, tell him to discuss it with me.”
The captain waited until Persila left with her mop and bucket before he turned back to Alden. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop pandering to slaves.”
Alden braced himself. That was the same word his father had used back in the curing barn. He wanted to fight both this man and Mr.Webb, but he could almost hear his dean’s words ringing in his ears:Passion is most powerful when bridled by restraint.
Passion only sparked a fire. If you wanted to keep it burning, you needed to feed the smoldering flames.
“I’m not pandering,” he finally said. “I’m trying to protect her.”
“Little good it will do you, here or in California,” Captain Crandall said before stomping out of the galley, the dishes rattling again.
The ship swayed to his left, and Alden swayed with it. Unlike in the rest of their country, slaves were supposed to be free in California, but what if things had changed in the past months?
It was too late for him and Isaac to change course now. Others gambled on finding gold out west. He supposed he was gambling on finding freedom.
After he finished drying the dishes, he reached for a second mop and climbed up the steps to Mrs.Dawson’s room. Isaac answered his knock, slipping out into the corridor.
Alden held up his mop. “I’m going to the top deck.”
“Missus Dawson just fell asleep,” he said, carefully closing the door. “It took an hour of reading.”
“Is she well?”
“Tolerable. She’s tired of the beans.”
“I’m afraid we all are.”
“I’ll help you mop,” Isaac said, as if it were a game.
“You go rest for a bit downstairs.”
“I’ve been resting, Master Payne. I need to earn my keep.”
“What do you think about borrowing Persila’s mop, then?”
Isaac nodded.
