The Stowaway

IV

There were no women on board allowed, she knew. Coming down the ramp, Eliza spotted two burly looking men. They turned up the dock and were walking towards where she was standing. Eliza immediately dove behind an enormous rope, used to fix one of the Navy ships to the dock.

She peered out from behind the rope, and watched as they made their way toward a pile of supplies that were stacked neatly. Together, they lifted one of the crates and carried it back towards the ship.

Those were so decent sized crates, she observes. Could she possibly fit in one of them, and be carried right on board? While their backs were turned, Eliza raced over to the stack of supplies, and immediately started searching for a possible fit. There were crates stuffed full of food, sacks of flour, sugar, salt and tea. There were also several barrels that had cork stoppers. That had to be their drink.

"Oh, Lord, here I go."

She took a deep breath as she lifted the lid of one of the barrels and released that breath when it came off easily. It was full about three quarters of the way by rum. The smell was so permeating that it burned her nostrils.

"Adventure," she told herself, as she climbed up on one of the food crates to get into the barrel. The liquid was cold and it stunk, and the addition of Eliza's body to the barrel immediately made it overflow. She panicked, praying that the sailors would not notice the spilled drink, or question it. She quickly crouched down into the barrel and placed the lid on top of her.

Everything was soaking wet, and she knew she had just ruined her book. She kept her neck positioned up so that she could breathe in the air pocket at the top of the barrel.

After ten minutes or so, Eliza heard the two men coming back.

"Christ!" exclaimed one of them. "You see this, Echo? Those bastards are trying to scrimp us out of our rum. They charged us for a barrel and spilled half of it!"

"I see it, alright, I see it," the sailor, Echo, agreed. "Should we go and ask them for another barrel?"

"No," the first sailor replied. "Captain's fixing to go, and I do not want it to get past midnight and we be starting a journey on a Friday. We've a long journey ahead, and we'll need all the luck we can get."

"We'll also need all the rum we can get, allthe rum," Echo insisted.

"You want to be the one to tell the Captain there's a delay?" he asked.

Eliza recalled the dark, dangerous pirate that she had been fixated on her before. He had the command of his men alright.

"No, no," agreed Echo.

"Let's just get it onto the ship," decided the first, and together the men lifted Eliza and the barrel of rum.

The alcohol splashed around as the men carried it, some splashing into Eliza's mouth. She disliked the taste so much that she promptly spat it back out, and then felt immediately guilty that these men were meaning to drink it.

She felt the angle as they carried her up the ramp, and then Eliza heard the sounds of the ship. She could hear voices on the deck, men shouting orders, making lists, checking things off. She could hear things being lugged about, and the sounds of ropes on pulleys.

She felt a drop in her altitude as they carefully brought her below deck. Several of the sailors came to help, all very protective of their rum, and Eliza and the barrel were stored safely away.

Eliza did not move from her position. She stayed in the barrel, no moving, not making a sound, not even a ripple in the alcohol that surrounded her. She felt like she had been there for hours as all the other supplies were brought into the room, wherever it was.