Rush Revere and the Brave Pilgrims: Time-Travel Adventures with Exceptional Americans (8 page)

“Below this deck is the tween deck. That’s where most of the passengers are living and sleeping. We also have a small pen for our smaller livestock, including chickens. And below the tween deck is the cargo hold where we store our flour, barrels of water, and other general supplies.”

“William,” I asked, “tell me, how are things for you? How can I help with your voyage?”

“Our numbers are dwindling. There used to be nearly one hundred and fifty Puritans traveling to the New World. But the trip has been hard on many of our people. After several attempts of trying to sail two ships to America we decided that the
Speedwell
was not seaworthy. It leaked like a sieve. Three times the crew tried to patch her up, without success. The first attempt was at Southampton after a very wet and worrisome journey from Holland. But a leaky ship will not keep us from the freedom we desperately want. We will make it to our new home!”

That’s when William gave me the most reassuring smile. It’s no wonder the Pilgrims were ready to follow him to the New World. He was inspiring to listen to. I was ready to follow him, too.

“You said that there used to be nearly one hundred and fifty Puritans,” I said. “How many are there now?”

“The passengers of the
Mayflower
include about fifty Puritans. The crew refers to us as Saints. The other half are Adventurers, also known as Strangers.”

Tommy whispered in my ear, “Sounds like two football teams playing on
Monday Night Football,
the Saints versus the Strangers.”

I smiled as William continued: “We had to include others if we stand a chance of starting a new settlement in the New World. It’s not ideal but it’s a step closer in getting us to our new home.”

“I really like your ship,” said Tommy. “And I happen to know you’ll make it to the New World.”

“Really?” William said, smiling. “You say that without a shadow of a doubt in your voice. I wish more of our members had your same positive attitude and conviction.”

A gust of wind came up and William quickly grabbed for his hat. He looked up at the sails and said, “I believe that heaven is helping us. We should give thanks for such a prosperous wind. Come, let us find Elder Brewster.”

As we followed William, the boat rose and fell with greater force. The winds were getting stronger and the swells were getting bigger. We were far out to sea now. Dark clouds pushed across the Atlantic Ocean. More frequently, water splashed up and over the ship’s railing. Imagine what it would be like in the evening when it was pitch black outside. Waves crashing, winds howling, thunder cracking, and the ship rocking fiercely against the waves. I imagined a monstrous wave that rocked the ship so hard that it capsized. The thought was terrifying and I quickly pushed it from my mind. It was easy for me to do because
I knew that the
Mayflower
made it to the New World. But none of the Pilgrims knew that. And yet, William Bradford spoke as if he did know. His faith allowed him to stay optimistic despite the raging storm.

We arrived at the hatch door that led down to the between decks. Other passengers were lined up and climbing down the ladder. When we were close enough to climb down, the smell caught my attention immediately. Tommy whispered, “Whoa, this is ten times worse than our locker room at school. It smells like a boatload of stinky socks down there.”

As quietly as possible I responded, “There should be about a hundred people down there, with no windows and not a lot of room.”

“That’s like the time we had our family reunion at my house and like a hundred of my relatives crammed into my living room for a few hours. It was so crowded and most of my cousins are really annoying.”

“That was just for a few hours,” I said. “Now try it for a few weeks or months and instead of your relatives you have to hang with a bunch of people from your church and the other half is a bunch of people you’ve never met.”

Tommy’s eyes were wide with concern. “Seriously? All in the same room? Oh, that would get old really fast. I mean, I think an hour would be too long with some people. And the smell down there must be a lot stronger. I don’t know how they did it.”

Tommy followed William and I followed Tommy.

*   *   *

When I stepped from the bottom rung of the ladder to the tween deck I had to bend my knees and lean forward to enter
the room. Tommy was standing up straight but it looked like his head touched the wood ceiling. Hunched over, we tried to follow William through a maze of people. The only light that came into the room was from the open hatch. It was dim but there was enough light to see that every family had a small living space. Some families had built wooden dividers that served as walls and provided them with a little privacy. We heard voices all around us; many of them were children saying things like:

“How long do we have to stay down here?”

“The sea is making me sick again.”

“I have to go potty.”

“Can I go find the puppy?”

I thought that last comment was odd, but with all the voices it was hard to be sure what I heard. Occasionally, water dripped through the upper deck and onto my head and neck. Tommy tapped me on the shoulder and whispered, “This place is creepy. And I think someone or something is following me.”

“Not to worry,” I whispered back. “We won’t stay long.”

Suddenly, a little boy, probably five or six years old, jumped out of the darkness and into our path. He looked up at Tommy and said, “Pardon me, but have you seen the puppy?”

Tommy crouched down until he was eye to eye with the little boy and said, “Sorry, little dude, I haven’t seen a puppy.”

Suddenly, the little boy jumped up and down, shouting and pointing to something behind Tommy: “Puppy, puppy, I see the puppy!”

Still crouching, Tommy turned around and stared up into the eyes of a giant-sized dog only inches from his face. The dog’s huge tongue licked and slobbered excitedly as Tommy fell
backward until he was on his back and the dog was now standing over him. The little boy laughed and laughed.

“That’s the puppy?” Tommy asked still lying on the damp floor and trying to cover his face with his arms.

William smiled and said, “That’s what they call him. He’s actually a giant mastiff. And there’s another dog, a spaniel. Two dogs and a hundred and two passengers.”

Other children joined the first little boy and they all started petting the dog. It was large enough that the smallest of the children could probably ride it like a horse.

I leaned over to help Tommy to his feet. He grabbed my hand and while hoisting him up I forgot about the low ceiling. “Ouch,” I said.

“It takes some getting used to,” said William. “Are you all right?”

“I’ll be fine. No worries.” I could already feel the raised bump on the top of my head.

“The
Mayflower
was not built to be a passenger ship. It’s a cargo ship. However, as you can see we’ve converted this crawl-space into our living quarters,” said William.

I looked around and could vaguely see that many passengers were lying down on rugs or sitting on chairs, chests of clothing, or leaning up against casks that were probably filled with water or beer. Many looked seasick, with chamber pots close by in case they had to vomit.

Tommy turned to one of the children who were petting the dog and asked, “Do you have to stay down here all the time?”

“Not all of the time,” said a girl who was about eight years old. “Only when the wind is really pushy and the waves are really big.”

“The waves don’t feel really big from down here,” Tommy said.

Overhearing the conversation, William crouched down to his knees and spoke to all of the children, including Tommy. “It’s true that this deck can be very deceiving about what’s happening outside. But the
Mayflower
is a special kind of ship. Have you ever seen a duck float on top of the waves? It just sits there, perfectly balanced while easily floating up and over and around the water. Well, the
Mayflower
is like a duck.” William reached out and while gently pressing against a little boy’s nose he made the noise “quack, quack.” The children laughed.

A young teenage boy who was standing nearby raised his hand and said, “I haven’t seen a duck, but I have seen a seagull. Or at least I think it was a seagull. I’m not sure because I didn’t see it float very long before a giant shark three times the size of the
Mayflower
jumped out of the water and ate the whole thing in one gulp.”

“It’s true,” said a second boy, about the same age as the first. They looked like brothers. “I saw the same shark. In fact, I saw it following the
Mayflower
just a few minutes ago.”

The young children stood there looking horrified, their eyes nearly as big as their opened mouths.

“D-d-did you really see such a shark?” a little girl finally asked.

“No, he did not!” said a man coming from behind the two teenage boys. Although it was dark, I could tell that he was shorter than William but probably close to the same age, maybe a little older. He looked like a strong man with broad shoulders. His red beard and mustache were neatly trimmed and he wore fine clothing, with a sword hanging from his side. I could see Tommy’s eyes fixed on the sword.

He grabbed the ears of both of the teenage boys and forced them to their knees. He spoke with authority and while twisting
their ears he said, “I warned you Billington boys. I told you I wouldn’t put up with your nonsense. You will now tell these children the truth.”

Painfully, the boys spoke as fast as they could. “We didn’t see a shark.” “Ouch, or a seagull.” “We’re sorry for scaring you.” “Ow, it was just a fib.” “We were just teasing you.” “That really hurts, it won’t happen again. . . .”

“Thank you, Captain Standish, that will be enough,” said William Bradford.

Like two fish being released in a shallow pool, the boys darted for the other side of the darkened ship.

“Let me introduce you to Captain Myles Standish,” said William. “Captain Standish was with us in Holland. He will be handling our colony’s military matters in America.”

Tommy leaned close to me and whispered, “I’m glad he’s not our substitute teacher. He doesn’t mess around. My friend’s dad was in the military, and let’s just say no one wanted to get on his bad side. Captain Standish seems stricter than Principal Sherman.”

We exchanged introductions and Tommy immediately asked, “Will you teach me how to fight with a sword?”

“I’d be delighted,” said Myles, “but ear-twisting can also be very effective.” He winked and smiled while messing up Tommy’s hair. “When the weather gets better I can teach you the art of swordfighting on the upper deck.”

William asked Myles, “Have you seen Elder Brewster?”

“I believe he’s returned to the captain’s cabin to—”

Before Myles could finish his sentence a loud bell started to ring. “Ding, ding. Ding, ding. Ding, ding.” Through the open hatch we heard someone shout, “Man overboard!”

As we hurried to follow William and Myles back to the hatch and up the ladder, I noticed several families calling out for sons and daughters, husbands and wives. Like a hen rushing to gather her chicks, fathers and mothers were frantically searching for their own children, hoping whoever went overboard wasn’t one of their own.

We rushed up the ladder, through the hatch, and onto the upper deck. It was like we landed on a different planet. Although it was much brighter and the air much fresher, the wind was howling through the ropes and rigging, and giant waves looked like they could smother the
Mayflower
at any moment. We were drenched from the water spraying in every direction. We scrambled toward several sailors shouting and pointing at something in the water.

“He fell over the ship’s railing right there!” a sailor shouted.

An older man was barking orders to the crew and I assumed he must be the captain of the
Mayflower.
He was wearing a long coat with a stocking cap similar to what the sailors were wearing.

William called to the older man, “Captain Jones, look over there!” He pointed to a rope attached to the upper sail. “It looks like it’s dragging something.”

The captain looked doubtful but in a split second yelled at the crew, “Get that topsail halyard out of the water!”

I studied the end of the rope that was lost in the waves behind us. For a few seconds, I saw something that looked like a body lift up out of the water and then become consumed again by another wave.

“A man!” I shouted. “He’s hanging on to the end of that rope.” I wasn’t 100 percent sure but I believed William Bradford’s suspicion was correct.

“He’s caught in the rope. He’s already dead!” shouted a sailor. “Leave him for the sharks.”

“I give the orders around here, sailor!” shouted Captain Jones. “Get that halyard out of the water! And that man still better be on the end of it or I wouldn’t want to be you!”

Captain Jones’s voice was so loud and so threatening that the crew looked more afraid of the captain than they did of the storm. Within seconds they had the rope and began pulling with all their might. “Heave, heave, heave!” they shouted in unison.