Patriots: New York

Chapter Five: A Lover Left Alone

About a week later, I received a letter from Eleanor again.
Dear Fire,
     I am very scared. There is an epidemic of small pox going around Boston and Ma says we do not have the money to be in-clock-u-lated.
  I laughed at her misunderstanding of the work "inoculated," but then I panicked at the seriousness of the letter.
  I am not sure what that means but Ma is very worried. She will not let us go outside of the house part of the building. None of us have gotten sick, but Papa knows a few people who have and they say it spreads very easily. I hope you are safe and healthy in New York!
                                                    -Water
   This was very concerning, but of course I tried to push it from my mind and pray that my family would be alright.
   Zeb continued to work at the tavern with me and took on more shifts and any other job he could find. I would ask him what he was planning to do with all his money and he would just shrug and say he needed to have it in case of an emergency.
   One morning he visited the tavern and checked the mail and handed a letter to me.
  "It's from your old mistress, Cordelia Harold," He with a smirk.
  I studied the envelope and realized it was not addressed to me. "Zeb, this letter is not for me. It addressed to Private Zebulun Morris."
  "Me? What does she want with me?" He asked.
  "I don't know. She did meet you that one time," I said, trying to figure out why she would be sending him a letter.
   "Could you read it?" He asked.
   "Sure, if you want me to," I said. I ripped the sealing wax and began to read aloud. "Dear Private Morris, I write to you on a rather grave note. As you may have heard, there has been an epidemic of small pox spreading through Boston like a wildfire. Among the victims of this sickness is my dearest friend and your love, Penelope Walters. She is quite ill and has requested your presence at her home in Boston as soon as you can make it. Please try to journey to Boston as soon as you can! Sincerely, Cordelia Harold."
   Zeb paled and did not speak.
  "Zeb, are you alright?" I asked nervously.
  "I-I don't believe it," he said under his breath. "Small pox? Are those things not super deadly?"
  "I have heard they are," I said slowly and gently, "but it did not say she was dying from them. She just has them and wants to see you."
"How am I even supposed to get in her house? Her parents hate me, she's engaged..." He said hopelessly.
"I'm sure there is a way if Cordelia wrote like she did," I said hopefully.
"You think so?" He asked.
"I think it would be worth a try," I said.
"Alright," he sighed shakily, "I'll try to find a ship tomorrow."
"I want to go with you," I said.
"You want to go home?" he asked.
"No!" I said quickly. "I'm not ready for that. I just don't want you to have to be alone. Besides, I know a bit about ports from my travel to New York."
"Alright," he sighed, "We leave tomorrow."
"Is General Washington going to be alright with you leaving?" I asked.
"He will probably be alright with it," he said.
"Alright, then we will indeed leave tomorrow," I seconded.
We told Mr. Walden of our situation and he allowed us to go for a week. It was about a three day journey from New York to Boston, as I had learned from my travels with Salty, so we would only have a few days to spend in Boston before having to return to New York.
  I had my bag packed with my extra dress and a few personal care items. Zeb and I went to the port on that early May morning to try to find a boat that offered cheap passage to Boston.
  "Look," Zeb whispered, pointing to a ship, "Should we ask the captain if that ship if he is headed to Boston?"
  I studied the ship. It was big and had tattered red sails without any sign of a dignified country or company. The man getting off of the ship looked a little too roguish for my liking. "Not that one, Zeb."
  "Why? He looks like he is in need of a quick shilling," Zeb wondered.
  "He also looks like a scoundrel who will rob and kill you and do God knows what to me. Let's look for someone who looks a bit more trustworthy," I said.
  Zeb gave me a surprised and puzzled look, "Alright," he said slowly, "If we want to judge a book by its cover..."
  My eyes rested on a young man who was loading wooden boxes onto a ship. He was better dressed and more trustworthy looking that the man Zeb had pointed out. I walked up to him slowly.
  "Excuse me sir," I said. Zeb followed close behind to see what would happen.
  "Yes, miss?" The young man asked.
  "Where are you headed?" I asked.
  "Boston Harbor. Why do you ask?" He asked nervously.
  "We are trying to get there as well. How much for passage on your fine ship?" I asked with a polite smile.
  The young man looked surprised, "Umm, I do not know. A shilling a day for each of you?"
  This was even better than Salty! "Of course, sir! Thank you!" I exclaimed. "Zeb, the money?"
  Zeb cringed, "Sorry?"
  "You have been working non-stop to get money. You have two shillings, right?" I asked.
   "I'm sorry, I spent nearly everything the other day. I have two shillings, but that is all I have," he apologized.
  "That's alright then," I said, confused at where his money had gone. "I'll pay." I took out two shillings and handed them to the young man.
  "Thank you," he said. "You can get on board now."
  "What kind of ship is this?" Zeb asked as we walked up the ramp onto the deck.
  "I don't know the exact model, but it is my master's cargo ship. He is a printer," he explained. "I'm his apprentice. Only one more year until I'm free though!"
  "I was an apprentice too, but my master wouldn't trust me with a delivery across the ocean. You sure are lucky," Zeb said with a smile.
  "What trade were you in?" The young man asked.
   "Shop keeping," Zeb answered. "That is, before the war."
   "Are you free of your contract then?" The young man asked.
  "I guess I am, technically," Zeb said thoughtfully. "I am nineteen now. I'll be twenty in June..."
  "My Lord, Zeb. When did you get old?!" I said, taken aback as it just hit me that we were all getting older.
  The young man chuckled, "That's not that old."
  "How old are you?" I asked him.
  "Eighteen," he said.
  "And what is your name?" I asked, realizing that I had not asked yet.
  "Henry," he said. "Henry Kemp."
  "It's a pleasure to meet you, Henry. I'm Liza Byers," I said, shaking his hand.
   "It's a pleasure to meet you too," Henry smiled.
   "I'm Zeb Morris," Zeb said awkwardly, introducing himself.
  "Nice to meet you. We better get going if we're to make it to Boston at a reasonable time. It takes about three days, you know," Henry said, pulling up the anchor of the ship.
  He set up the sails and the wind blew, pushing us away from the shore. After our course was steady towards Boston, we started talking again.
  "So what is bringing you two to Boston?" Henry asked.
  "My love is dying of small pox and I got a letter saying she wanted to see me," Zeb said, his brightened mood darkening.
  "Oh," Henry said awkwardly. "I'm awfully sorry about that. I have heard that Boston has been pretty hard with that epidemic. I've also heard not everyone dies from it. Maybe she will live and you'll have nothing to worry about?"
"I would not bet on it," Zeb sighed. "She probably would not want me there so badly if she wasn't dying."
"She would probably want to see you anyway. She loves you so much," I said, trying to comfort him.
"I'm just scared," He sighed. "I have not heard that small pox has much of a survival rate."
"Well, we could always pray that she is alright, and you'll see her soon enough," I said sweetly.
"I'll pray to no end," Zeb said softly.
We traveled with Henry for the next three days. He was generous enough to spare some food for us. Zeb did not eat much of it. He said he did not feel like it. He also did not sleep much. I could relate. Worries often kept me awake too. When we reached Boston, we got off the ship at Hancock's Wharf. We were closer to Penelope's house and farther from my family.
That morning we made our way to Penelope's with great haste. Zeb did not say anything, he just walked solemnly, staring at the ground. When we arrived, Zeb and I walked around the outside of the house to Penelope's bedroom window.
"I'll give you some time with her alone. I'll just wait here," I offered.
"Thank you," He sighed. "I'm really nervous."
"Do not be nervous," I said gently, taking his strong hands in mine. "Everything will be alright."
He turned towards the open window without a word and climbed in. I looked into the room after him. There was no one in there except Penelope. She was lying in bed with her eyes closed. She was very pale but had red, raised bumps all over her face and arms.
  Zeb felt her forehead with the back of his hand. He looked more nervous, but he gently brushed her cheek with his hand and reached for her hand. "Penny," he whispered in a helpless tone.
  Her beautiful blue eyes fluttered open. "Zebulun," she whispered weakly with a warm smile.  "You came..."
  "Of course I came. When I heard you were sick I knew I had to rush to you as fast as I could," he said, his voice shaking.
  "I am so glad I got to see you one last time. Oh Zebulun, I love you more than I've ever loved anyone else." She suddenly started coughing, "I am so sorry we will never be able to have the beautiful wedding and all those children we dreamed of having."
"Penelope, do not talk like that. You'll live to marry me and have those children. Come on, you already named them. Grace, Samuel, Katherine, Alexander, Juliet, Lysander..." Zeb whispered, his voice getting more and more broken.
  "I'm sorry, Zebulun. I have battled this illness too long," She breathes. "I won't live much longer."
  "Then I'll stay here by your side," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut to try to keep tears from escaping. "I'll never leave."
  She reached up with her weak and shaky hand and brushed a fallen tear from his cheek. "Don't cry, love. You must keep living."
  "You were the only thing I was living for! I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You are supposed to be the mother of my children," Zeb whispered. "You can't leave me here alone!"
  "I'm sorry," Penelope whispered, a tear escaping her eye as well. "I haven't much say in the matter. The Lord has made up his mind to take me, I'm in his hands now."
  "Why? Why must the Lord take you now?!" Zeb whispered, a hint of rage in his voice.
  "I don't know. I do not know why our life together must be so short. I do not know why my life is short either. You have been my light in the midst of the darkness of this war...thank you," she whispered, her voice growing softer with every word.
"No, no, Penelope...stay with me...don't leave me alone like this...you are my light as well...I love you so much...I can't bear to lose you...I'm not that strong..." He sobbed.
  "Yes, you are..." She coughed. "Now...I must say goodbye...the room is growing dark..."
  "No..."
  "I can see light..."
  "No...stay..."
  "I love you, Zebulun...I love you so much..." Her eyes closed.
  "I love you too...now don't leave!"
Penelope did not move or speak ever again. Her hand went limp in his.
"Penelope?" Zeb whispered.
There was no response.
"Penelope!" He said a little louder with desperation. "PENELOPE!"
She was dead. She had died holding his hand. He picked up her body and held her close to him in an embrace. She of course could not hold him back. He sat there clutching her like he would lose her. He already had. After a long time he kissed her on the forehead and set her down gently. He took a flower from her bedside and placed it in her hands as he crossed her hands across her chest.
He broke down crying again. He stood up after a while and ran to the window and climbed out. I moved out of the way and he ran out of my sight. I was stunned, but I decided it was best to leave him be for the moment.
I looked back into the room and noticed a little box that had fallen from his jacket pocket. I cautiously climbed in the window and picked it up. I climbed back out and opened the box carefully. At that moment my heart broke for him completely. Inside the box was a beautiful gold ring with a diamond on it. It could only mean one thing. This was Penelope's engagement ring! Zeb had wanted to propose to her! That was why he needed so much money! That was why he had no money for Henry! It all made sense! And what a tragedy!
  I tucked the ring away in my pocket and ran after Zeb. He was at the edge of Hancock's wharf, ready to jump into the water from a great height.
"ZEB! NO!" I screamed, breaking into a dead sprint towards him.
He tried to jump but somehow my adrenaline kicked in and I was able to pull him back from the edge. I hugged him as tight as I could.
"Oh Zeb, I'm so sorry about Penelope," I said, ready to cry myself. "Jumping off the wharf is not what you should do! Ending your life is not going to help anything!"
He looked around frantically, then looked at me with his piercing blue eyes. I looked straight in his eyes for a moment and then hugged him again. He calmed down suddenly and hugged back.
  "I'm so sorry," I whispered.
  "I-I just can't believe she's gone," he sobbed.
  "I can't either," I said shakily.
   We sat there on the edge of the wharf, holding each other for what seemed like forever. I did not mind. I felt terrible for him and was ready to do anything and everything to help him get through. He had always been my rock when things went terribly, and now I had to be his.