Saints (30 page)

“That all depends on the dealers, don’t it?” John answered.

Charlie got the pun and, feeling charitable, he laughed at it. No reason why he and his father shouldn’t be friends of a sort, anyway. John took it a bit farther. “Why not step in for a pint?” he offered.

“This once, why not?” Charlie said. The Word of Wisdom said for Mormons not to drink alcoholic beverages, but for special occasions the brethren often made exceptions, and surely the last trip ashore in England for heaven knows how many years was a special occasion. So they pushed their way through the crowded street toward a pub. Charlie leaned close to a window and looked in. It was dark enough inside that he could see little, and that only through the portion of the window made transparent by his shadow. The place reminded Charlie of the dingy holes where Robert and Matthew always used to go. Charlie had only rarely been inside such pubs, but they still held a fascination for him, as if entering conferred true manhood. He was pulling away when he glanced down at the table just under the window and found himself staring into the surprised face of Matthew Handy.

Charlie stepped back in surprise, and of course the window became opaque as a mirror in the sunlight. By the time he got back to the window for another look, four men were walking away from the table. They were moving too quickly to be sure, but two of them were in uniforms. One was a constable, while the other was a ship’s officer. Indeed, for a moment Charlie thought it might be Captain Lower of the
North America
, but then they were out of sight from the window, and Charlie could not be sure.

“What is it?” John asked.

“Could have sworn I saw Dinah’s husband.”

“Here! In Liverpool!”

Charlie didn’t answer, just pushed his way to the door and went in. The table by the window already had a couple of new drinkers now—it was getting on toward evening. And there was no sign of the four men who had been sitting there. Charlie looked around and saw a back entrance leading onto another street, but the alley was empty when he got there. Whoever the men were, they left in a hurry. But Matthew!

“What would Matt be doing here?” Father asked.

“How should I know?”

“He has a common face.”

That was true. Charlie only saw him through a window, anyway. And yet the thought plagued him. What if it
was
Matt—
and
Captain Lower? There could be only one meaning for that.

“Do you think Matt might try to stop Dinah from coming?”

“Dinah said he gave permission.”

“Dinah said he didn’t mind. What if he’s decided that he
does
mind?”

John laughed. “The way he lets her lead him about by the nose? The man has no spine.”

Charlie thought it was odd for Father to criticize another man for being spineless—but it didn’t differ from Charlie’s own assessment. Yet there was that side of Matthew that had led him to beat Dinah, and that wasn’t all that long ago. A constable, the captain of the ship, and Matt. And another man. A solicitor? What was the law on a mother taking children away from their father? “I’d better tell Dinah,” Charlie said.

“That’s right,” Father said. “It’ll worry her sick, and you only
think
you saw him through a dazzled window, and it’s as unlikely as pigs flying, but you ought to tell her.”

“I will if I think it best.”

“And if I advised you not to jump into the sea, would you jump just to prove you know better than me?”

Charlie looked at his father, willing enough to quarrel. But John Kirkham did not look quarrelsome. He was grinning, in fact. “Am I just being ridiculous, then?” Charlie asked.

“I think that it’s natural to think you saw what you most fear.”

“What I most fear is dying of thirst,” Charlie said, and paid for two mugs of beer. That did a bit to help settle his fears. Charlie drank so rarely that one beer was enough to keep him cheerful for hours.

It was a cheerful night aboard ship anyway. The first mate came into steerage just after suppertime and announced that they’d sail with the tide in the morning, within a few hours after dawn. It was welcome news, and the night was spent in reveling. They began by singing hymns—after all, there were three apostles spending this last night in harbor with them aboard the ship—but along about eight o’clock Brother Brigham said, “I think we’ll make the Lord weary of us with so much worship. Isn’t there a fiddle in this company? Isn’t there a lady willing to take a step or two with me?”

So the celebration moved to the deck, and the sailors stood around watching the reels and corners. Charlie was a good dancer, and Brigham chose him three times for his own square. It was doubtless an accident, but all three times both Sally and Harriette Clinton were in the same square.

When Harriette was his opposite she said, “My sister thinks you must be angry at her.” Then she spun away before he could answer. Charlie looked over at Sally, who had been gazing at him; she soulfully looked away and then fell into the hand over hand of the allemande, which brought her to Charlie in a few steps. He looked at her questioningly, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

Charlie could not bear thinking that she thought he was angry. He
had
avoided her, he knew, but not because of anger. It was because his dreams of loving her were too vivid in memory; he was ashamed to be near her, knowing he had had such lustful and unworthy thoughts. Yet it was not fair that she should be punished for his sin. In the next square, when Brigham brought them together, Charlie insisted on being her partner.

He had learned a lesson from her book. Accuse your accuser with her own accusation. “Why are you angry?” he asked, then went off to swing his corner.

“I’m not,” she said when they got back together. “I thought you were.”

“Pay attention,” Brigham barked. Charlie flung Sally toward the Apostle and took a turn with Sister Featherstone.

“You two make such a darling pair,” Sister Featherstone said.

The promenade was next, and Sally bumped him with her hip. “What did she say?”

“That you deserve a better-looking partner,” Charlie answered.

“You’re such a liar.”

“Don’t tell Brother Brigham, or he’ll disfellowship me.”

“Don’t you wish you could kiss me?”

Charlie only had time to blush before he was off with his corner again. He saw to it the dance ended without another word.

He sought out Dinah and took her out to step the next dance. Dinah was laughing at him. “You and Sally aren’t making any secret of things, are you?”

Dinah could not know about their stolen kiss, could she? “If there’s anything between us, it’s a secret to
me
.”

“Sorry.” Plainly Dinah didn’t believe him.

“I haven’t met the woman I want to marry.”

“Well, make do the best you can. The voyage will be long, Charlie, but good company will pass the time.”

The dancing ended and the company went back below decks to sleep. Charlie of course sat down and wrote copiously in the company journal. He paid little attention to the others until he heard Val crying.

“I want to go home,” he said.

“We’re going to a
new
home,” Dinah said.

“…’Ome,” said Honor, testing the word.

“Where’s Daddy?” Val asked.

“He won’t be coming to America until later. On another ship.”

“I want Daddy!” Val wailed. Charlie wanted to shake the child and say, Aren’t things hard enough without you torturing your mother like this? But of course Val was just a child, and didn’t understand a thing.

Val would not quiet down until John Kirkham took him on his knee and looked him in the eye. “Listen, little man, your father would be ashamed if he saw you acting like this.”

“I want Daddy,” Val said.

“And your Daddy will come along presently. Don’t you think he misses his little boy already? You be happy and smile, and go to sleep like a good boy, and your Daddy will come sooner than you think.”

Charlie felt annoyed at his father. Couldn’t the man comfort the child without lying? Charlie refused to admit to himself that part of what he felt was jealousy. He had once sat upon that knee, no doubt, but he had no memory of it. He should have had a memory of it.

Charlie was the last to bed. So the others could have relative darkness, he finished his entry by the light of a lamp well down the corridor between berths; it strained his eyes a little, and he was tired. He had thought to write a glowing rhapsody about the glory of departing England and leaving it for Zion. Now the words came painfully, and he finally gave up and rapidly wrote in plain language how worried everyone was about the voyage, and yet how they felt lifted up by the Spirit of God and no one was willing to complain. It wasn’t beautiful. Just true. But he reread it and decided there was a certain elegance to that as well.

He closed the journal and put away his pen and ink. Before he could climb up to the berth he shared with his father, however, he heard Dinah whisper his name. Immediately he knelt on the floor beside her berth and quietly said, “Yes, Dinah?”

“Charlie, you heard Val crying for his father tonight.”

“Yes. He’s just a child.”

“Am I right to do this?”

“Can you doubt it?”

“For myself, no.” Her voice sounded husky with emotion. “But how can I make my children live without their father?”

“Better than making them live without their God.”

“Oh, Charlie, are you sure of that? Are you certain?”

Charlie had never known Dinah to have doubts. It frightened him a little. “Aren’t
you
?”

“What is it like, to be a boy with no father?”

“It’s different for Val.”

“Yes. His mother is stealing him away.”

“He doesn’t understand now. But he will.”

“Do you think so? Will he forgive me?”

Charlie thought of his own father. “Anything can be forgiven, Dinah.”

Perhaps she also thought of him. “Can be forgiven—but
will
it be?”

Charlie thought of the dangerous voyage ahead. If either of the children were to die at sea, Dinah would condemn herself forever. And perhaps rightly so. How would Charlie feel if instead of Father abandoning them, Mother had taken them away? It was a terrible responsibility to take on. Charlie could not advise her to bear it, though he also could not imagine going to Zion without his wise and compassionate sister. “If you have doubts, Dinah, it’s not too late to go home.”

“I
am
going home. This is no idle voyage for me, Charlie. I’ve felt it all these days, a fire within me. When I think of England I get no answering flame, but my heart leaps to think of Zion. I’ve been in exile all my life. But it’s nearly done.”

“Then be at peace.”

“If Matt had done this to me, I’d hate him forever.”

Charlie toyed with the idea of telling her then what he thought he had seen during the day. But she was worried enough as it was—and what would she do even if it were true? And it wasn’t true. It had just been the way the shadows worked in the window of the pub. It was nothing. It was not Matt. “Will you miss him?”

“Don’t you see, Charlie? Whether I miss him or not doesn’t matter. The children miss him. For me this voyage is all joy. It’s the little ones who are paying the price. It isn’t right for them to suffer for my sake.”

“You’ll make it up to them.”

“Give me a blessing, Charlie.”

It was a strange request. It was not as if she were ill and needed anointing with the consecrated oil. He did not answer, uncertain what it was she wanted of him.

“Never mind, darling Charlie. Just pray with me. I need some comfort tonight.”

So he prayed, not sure what he ought to ask for. He just thanked God for the trip ahead of them, and asked God to bless Dinah, that her heart would be reconciled to his will. It was the first time anyone had asked him to act alone in a spiritual matter. Baptizing Father was one thing, and easy; clerking came to him as naturally as sleeping; but to pray on someone else’s behalf, that actually required him to be in tune with the Spirit of God. Maybe he was and maybe he wasn’t—he wasn’t altogether sure what it should feel like.

It occurred to him as he knelt there that even though Dinah held no office in the Church, she was closer to God than he was. After all, she had had the gift of interpretation of tongues, she had spoken almost like a prophetess. She had so much faith, in fact, that when the prayer was finished she murmured
amen
, smiled at him, and went instantly to sleep, an expression of contentment on her face. It was strange that a woman should have so much more closeness to the Spirit than he. But he decided, before finally drifting off to sleep, that she was not really more spiritual. It was just that, being more emotional, a woman was better able to express her feelings.

When his mother shook him awake, he was not aware that he had even slept; the single lantern still shone far down the row of berths, and no one else was stirring. “Charlie,” she said. “Charlie, wake up.”

“What is it?”

“Charlie, the first mate came down and woke Dinah and told her to take the children on deck.”

Charlie sat up and slid off the upper bunk. “What for?” he asked, pulling on his trousers.

“Didn’t say, and Dinah told me to stay here, but Charlie—”

“I thought I saw Matt yesterday.”

“Matt! Oh, Charlie, why didn’t you say something?”

“I thought I was mistaken.” He didn’t bother with his waistcoat or even his shoes, just pulled on his coat as he hurried down the corridor. It was Matt, of course it was Matt, and he had seen him yesterday meeting with Captain Lower. Captain Lower, who couldn’t attend the Mormon meeting the day before because he had his damned treasonous business ashore.

When he got to the deck, the first light of dawn was showing in the east, but it was too dark to see easily. The sailors were about their business. Charlie had not realized there were so many seamen in the crew. They had never been all together on the decks before, but the wind and tide would wait for no late sleepers among the crew this morning. The breeze was cool as it ruffled Charlie’s hair; he shivered. Had they taken Dinah ashore, too, by force? But no. There they were. Dinah and the two children, with Captain Lower and a constable. No doubt about it, then. They had got some sort of legal way of forcing Dinah to come back with them. The sight of Dinah clinging to her children, surrounded by men who could easily overpower her was intolerable. Charlie ran along the deck, dodging sailors and getting roundly cursed in the process. He reached Dinah and stood behind her. She was holding both children in her arms.