Jake and the Castaway Daughters

Jake and the Castaway Daughters

a Novelette by Varangian Kellis

Prolog

The clipper ship at the quay, the Fleeting Star, longer and sleeker than the tubby Dutch and British ships on either side, was for its era a magnificent emblem of Yankee prowess and technical achievement. Its captain leaned smugly against the stays, watching Chinese coolies wrestle aboard the last of his cargo: tea, porcelain and exotica from the depraved, heathen Middle Kingdom. The man’s large nostrils filled with the scent of oak, tar, tea and the stench of the dockside. He was eager to be away, to be again at sea and feel his ship come livelier than a woman beneath him.

He smiled at the sight of the Reverend Hosea Meron and his three young daughters beginning their ascent of the aft gangplank. They were such pretty girls, he thought, even the chubby one. Meron, a missionary, owned enough of the Fleeting Star to be welcomed aboard but not enough to question the captain’s authority. On the voyage home he and his girls would make a most satisfactory audience for the captain’s ship-handling skill.

“Good day, Mr. Meron,” he called out to the party as it reached the deck below him.

“Good morning to you, Captain Norris,” Meron replied looking up at the gruff seaman whose uniform could have been that of an admiral. “It’s a fine day to return home.”

The two younger girls pulled away, wanting to race about and inspect the vessel, but the tallest held them in check, gripping their hands tightly. Except for color they were dressed alike in knee-length frocks fluffed by many petticoats, lower legs loosely encased in white laced pantaloons, ankle boots and medium sleeves bunched high on the arm in the style of the previous decade. Their foreheads under wide brimmed bonnets were moist despite having just descended from the breeze of their rickshaws, which did not surprise the captain. It was a warm day in Canton. Sweat must often be wiped away from his own forehead and the bare-chested coolies gleamed with it.

“We’ll cast off in a few hours, Mr. Meron. Would you and your lovely daughters honor me with your presence at lunch?”

“We would be delighted, Captain,” Meron called back as he turned to follow the barefoot sailor who led them to their cabins.

* * *

The two men sat at table in the captain’s cabin, enjoying a light repast, while the three girls giggled together at another nearby. The stern portholes stood open, admitting the cool on-shore breeze.

“So you had trouble, I hear, with your first mate. What’s his name?”

“Jacob Higgins,” the captain replied with a sour look on his face. “He somehow managed to ship a good sized cargo of his own here to Canton in this very ship. We caught him easily enough, and while he’s imprisoned in a converted sail locker, where he belongs, I must admit that I’ll miss him on the bridge if we run into trouble. He’s a good sailor.”

“He’s a thief,” the reverend responded with disdain. “He’s stolen from me and from my partners. Let the court in New York deal with the rascal.”

The girls suddenly began to squeal for no apparent reason, disturbing the men.

“Belle,” Meron turned to admonish his eldest daughter, “please control those two little imps.”

“I want to go to the bottom of the boat, Daddy,” little Jill stated, coming up to the table. The pretty ten year old had left her bonnet somewhere again, much to the delight of any onlooker, because she had the most lustrous, light blonde hair that hung from her head in natural ringlets.

“Rats and stink live down there, darling,” Meron replied to his youngest daughter, pulling her onto his lap. The captain watched with narrowed eyes, thinking ironically of the Chinese wanton, no larger and not much older, who had graced his own lap just the night before.

As her father’s hand closed securely over her abdomen, Jill looked up into the captain’s eyes and amazed him with a wink. To the captain it seemed deliberately lascivious. What had this one learned among the heathen? Perhaps to read minds?

“I’m getting sea sick, Daddy,” pudgy twelve year old Marie complained enviously, wanting a cuddle of her own, despite Belle’s previously expressed judgment that all of them had grown too big to sit on a lap.

“Marie!” Belle protested sternly. “We’re still tied up to the dock.” She pulled Marie back from the table, where Jill grinned in her father’s embrace, knowing that she was his favorite.

Belle was an essentially grown, tall girl of fifteen whose face would be beautiful did it not scowl so often in her role as surrogate mother to the two younger sisters. “Belle, darling,” Meron beamed at her, his favorite in fact, “show the girls around the deck. We’ll be leaving soon and then it may not be so pleasant.”

“Yes, Daddy. Give me your hands, sisters.”

The captain nodded approvingly as the tallest led her sisters out onto the bridge deck, now almost cleared of the clutter of port. “Quite the leader, isn’t she!”

“Oh, yes,” the father responded fondly, “and a more serious and responsible one you would look long to find. Their mother died trying to birth our fourth and Belle has been my right arm since.” The man chuckled wryly. “It pains me to know that somewhere in the world today walks a callow lout with no idea of the good fortune that awaits him when he takes her to wive.”

The captain grinned. “Thus speaks a father! You wish to make certain, I take it, that your ‘callow lout’ at least is not Chinese?”

“If you mean, is that my reason for taking them home? — no, the European colonies grow in China with every arriving ship. Didn’t I understand that you fetched two or three families here on your current voyage?”

“Yes, I did. Excuse me, Mr. Meron; I had no intention of prying.”

“Not at all, captain. I don’t mind explaining my reasons. China today is simply not the place to raise white children. Licentiousness is the way of life. You can hire no servant, male or female, for whom sexual intimacy is more significant than urination or defecation, and God knows they’re careless enough about that!”

“I take it you discovered this characteristic well after you brought your children here?”

“I paid it no attention until I caught my youngest inspecting an immodest houseboy! Then I saw evidence of the prevailing attitude everywhere I looked. To you, sir, I’ll admit my surprise that my wife never noticed such indifference. But she was an intensely loving woman always eager to give anyone the benefit of the doubt. God, how I miss her!”

“I’m sure you do,” agreed the captain sympathetically.

“I was having great spiritual success in my district, except for this sexual abandon that I had failed to notice. When the girls are safe with my sister in Massachusetts, I shall return instanter -- possibly on your next voyage out. Here in China the opportunity and need for God’s message is unsurpassed anywhere in the world.”

The captain smiled. “Don’t you find it surprising that such an important message, considering the source, had never managed to arrive here before?”

Meron drew back to study the man. “Are you serious?”

The captain shrugged. “Perhaps not. Excuse me.” He got to his feet, peering out over the long deck. “What concerns me more immediately is that your daughters seem about to enter the fo’c’sle. What they might see there, sir, is worse than any possible inspection of houseboys!”