"There's only one place I want to go and it's to all the places I've never been." Nikki Rowe
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IV.
Eliza packed every small thing that she could fit into her pockets. All the money she had, jewellery to barter or trade if needed, a comb, a small sewing kit, and a book, one of her favourites.
It was hard to know what to grab to take on an ocean adventure when one was planning on stowing away on a ship. A pirate ship, potentially!
Eliza threw open her windows and grabbed the robes from her drapes, praying that they were strong enough to take her weight. She tied them together, and then fixed them to the leg of the chair that sat by the window.
And then she did the most reckless thing she had ever done.
Yet.
Eliza nearly fell off the rope when the chair immediately gave way and slammed against the window, but it lowered her enough to be able to drop down to the ground without seriously injuring herself. She fell into shrubbery, which thankfully cushioned her fall.
Her heart was racing as she looked around her garden and planned her escape. The carriage! She spied the carriage still waiting outside the house, with the horses all still thankfully tacked up. Perhaps they had been brought back around to take that odious Mr Pole home. He did not have a carriage of his own.
She knew luck was on her side when the driver was nowhere to be seen. How hard could it be to drive a carriage?
***
It turned out, driving a carriage could be very difficult indeed, and Eliza had nearly run the horses off the road a dozen times. But she managed to find a rhythm, and she directed them back down to Plymouth Dock.
Eliza could not wipe the smile off her face. No matter how stupid she was being, no matter how reckless, she was excited. She was finally taking the adventure that she had always wanted to. There would be no more wishing, no more waiting and wanting. It was time to seize control of her own life, no matter the consequences.
Eliza had never cared much for consequences anyway.
She stopped the carriage where the driver had earlier, pulling on the reins. The horses obeyed. When her family discovered her letter, they would find the carriage and take it home. She only hoped the ship would get away before they did. That was the risk.
Of course, she did feel keenly for her family. She knew her actions would hurt them. But Katy would understand. She would explain. She knew that if Eliza had spent one more minute in that house planning a marriage without first having a life then she would surely die of terminal disappointment.
She would return. She would not be away forever. Adventures were temporary, but the memories were for life. If her adventure was what she hoped it would be, she would most definitely be content being the wife of Mr Pole.
Well, perhaps not Mr Pole. But someone equally as dull and slimy.
The sun was setting, and the Navy men were all coming in to frequent the taverns and inns that lines the harbour. She slipped through them easily, as the lure of drink and company were on their minds.
She thanked God when she saw that the ship from earlier today was still moored to the dock. But now was the challenge. How on earth was she going to slip on board?
Eliza looked around and prayed for a miracle. She could not simply walk up the ramp onto the ship. She would be spotted and sent promptly back to her parents.
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.
And suddenly she felt the ship move. She felt the deck sway, the rum around her sloshed as the wind took control of the sails and guided the ship out of the harbour and out onto the open ocean.
Placing her hands on the lid, Eliza pushed it off of her and stuck her head out of the barrel.
She was in a closed room, surrounded by crates of food, and barrels of drink. It was dark, but thin cracks in the wood of the ship let in a little of the fading light. The floor was covered in hay, and there Eliza noticed two goats that were tied to a post, away from the sailor's food, with sustenance of their own.
Eliza climbed out of the barrel as carefully as she could, trying to avoid wasting anymore of the sailor's drink. The moment she stepped foot on the floor, she fell over sideways. She smacked into the floor at such a speed she was not expecting. The floor felt like it was moving.
Eliza sucked in a sharp breath with pain but did not make a sound. She carefully got to her feet again but felt her loss of balance coming. She felt like a newborn deer, unsure of her own legs. Eliza thought it would be safest if she sat back down.
She was suddenly cold. Her dress was sodden, her hair was saturated, and she reeked of the rum.
She gathered up some of the hay from the floor and tried to make herself a cocoon as she pulled her possessions from her pockets to lay them out the dry.
Even sitting, she could feel the sway of the boat. It was very discomforting, and so she thought it would be best if she only ate a light supper. She took a little cheese from of the crates, and a small portion of salted beef from another, and enjoyed her dinner.
***
Eliza should not have eaten a thing.
Wave after wave of nausea hit her as the waves kept crashing into the side of the ship. It didn't stop rocking and swaying, and every movement just affected her more.
Eliza threw up for the seventh time, she had been counting, retching only liquid now uncontrollably. She could not even move to vomit in the corner, she felt so ill. It was never-ending and incessant, and she cried and cried.
What had she done? How could she have been so foolish?
Her throat burned, and her mouth taste of acid. She coughed, and she cried, and she wretched. When would it stop? Stop rocking! Please!
"Mama!" she wailed, hugging the pile of hay that now smelled of rum and sick.
Somehow, by some miracle, after throwing up a further two times, Eliza managed to fall asleep.
***
"You grab the flour, Eggs," instructed a voice. "A sack will do. There's a lad. Oh, for the love of all that is Holy!" he exclaimed. "What is that stench?"
Eliza awoke with a start and froze as she realised that she was not alone. She might have concealed herself behind the crates, even if people were to come in, but she could not hide the smell of her sick, and she had not been at all careful the night before to be clean.
One night. She had lasted only one night away from home before she had ruined it for herself.
Eliza hugged her legs, shivering in her still damp dress that was now stained with everything that she had eaten the day before, as a man and a boy discovered her around the corner.
The man was large, portly, and wore a dirty apron over his breeches. The boy looked to be about thirteen or fourteen, and was tall and skinny, with wide, blue eyes and freckles on his face.
"Go get the captain, Eggs," the older man instructed as he stared down at Eliza, his nose turned up. "Tell him we've got ourselves a stowaway."
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Hope you liked it!!
I got this up a day earlier than I thought :D
I'd just like to spare a thought for the brave firefighters, police, paramedics, volunteers, Red Cross, and everyone who is doing their darnedest while Australia burns. The whole country is on fire, there's a state of emergency in two states, four people have been killed so far, hundreds of homes lost, and thousands upon thousands of hectares of land destroyed.
Fire is relentless and unforgiving, and you need to have an action plan.
10 years ago we had TERRIBLE fires in my state of Victoria that we now call the Black Saturday Bushfires. Over 170 people were killed. I live in a very urban area, close to the city, completely away from where you think the danger is, and yet I can remember the smell in the air, and seeing the smoke billowing up in the distance as the fires edged closer and closer. It's a harrowing thing, and no way to go.
I remember my uncle driving us through the area after it was put out and just seeing nothing but black, ash, and dead everywhere was absolutely soul crushing.
Be safe, at home or overseas.
Fire season is well and truly here as we brave the onslaught of an Australian summer.
Xxxx