began to cleanse the eye. It was reddened, swollen, and theother eye showed indications of following in the same unhealthy direction.
Second case of it today. Must remember to tell Jonas
.
I bathed both eyes in mucilage of sassafras, hushing the girl when she started to wail and grip my wrists, kicking her legs up and down, almost preventing me from performing my duties. My temples began to throb. The familiar nausea rose inside me, as if I stood on the top of the highest mast of a ship as it rolled heavily, creaking and groaning through the swells.
When I finished, the girl closed her eyes. Her body relaxed and she released her grip. Her breathing evened, and I knew she’d fallen asleep. After wiping my hands, I gently tucked a doll made of oakum under her arm. It was something I gave to each of the girls, a gift that took me but a few minutes to make and that seemed to calm them. Often I was rewarded with a smile through the tears. For the lads, I made a braided length of oakum with a cowrie shell at each end.
She’s too thin
, I thought.
Many of the slaves were too thin—bone-thin, some of them. I’d mentioned this to Uncle: that perhaps we needed to increase their portions, that sometimes the stronger at the mess ate more food, while the weaker received less than their share. But he said he’d been in the business for twenty years. That he knew what he was doing. That yams were particularly bulky storage items and we could only store so many. Feed them too much now, he said, and we wouldn’t have enough to reach the Americas. Couldn’t have them dying of starvation at the very time they went to market. Buyers wanted healthy negroes.
I sighed and turned to the next fellow. He’d been sitting propped against the bulkhead, but now he lay slumped over sideways, eyes open, not moving.
He’s dead
, I thought.
And indeed he was.
My nausea surfaced just as someone whipped open the door to the infirmary. Normally, fresh air would brush through a cabin upon the opening of a door, but there was only more humidity and heat.
It was Billy the Vermin, as I’d come to call him.
“Holy Mother of God, it stinks down here,” he said.
I vomited into one of the many buckets, my head throbbing like a drum. Afterward I wiped my mouth with my handkerchief. “What do you want, Billy?”
He was strolling past the pallets, eyeballing everyone. When he saw the corpse, he bent over and poked it. “Why, I’ll be jiggered. He’s dead.”
“Unless you’ve a complaint, you need to clear off.”
Billy grinned.
“Really, Billy, I must turn in.” I yawned, stretched, and rubbed my eyes.
“You can’t,” he said, scratching his scalp with a disgusting vigor. “The king commands your presence on deck.”
I frowned. “You mean, the captain.”
“No, the king.” And as I was shirtless, he tugged me toward the door by the waist of my trousers.
“Billy, I’ve not time for your silly games. Carry this man outside. He’s dead.”
Still tugging at me, he stared at the corpse. “But that’s Mackerel’s job. Mack’s and Roach’s.”
“Then go fetch Mack and Roach.”
“But first you gotta come with me. The king commands. He says if you don’t obey, he’ll chop off your head.” He grinned again. “He said if you don’t come, you’ll be very, very,
very
sorry. Please come, please.…” And all the while, he tugged at my trousers.
I glanced about the infirmary. Really, it
would
be nice to see the sky. And it was probably the only way I could get rid of Billy the Vermin. “All right, then. Stop tugging, pretend to be normal, and I’ll come with you.”
It was as if I’d told him we were going to play in the dirt and smash worms. He bounced up the companionway, telling me to hurry, hurry!
But the moment I stepped out of the fore hatchway onto the deck, blinking like a mole in the brightness, wondering why everyone—sailors, cook, carpenter, and all—was gathered about, grinning at me, I was grabbed on
Second case of it today. Must remember to tell Jonas
.
I bathed both eyes in mucilage of sassafras, hushing the girl when she started to wail and grip my wrists, kicking her legs up and down, almost preventing me from performing my duties. My temples began to throb. The familiar nausea rose inside me, as if I stood on the top of the highest mast of a ship as it rolled heavily, creaking and groaning through the swells.
When I finished, the girl closed her eyes. Her body relaxed and she released her grip. Her breathing evened, and I knew she’d fallen asleep. After wiping my hands, I gently tucked a doll made of oakum under her arm. It was something I gave to each of the girls, a gift that took me but a few minutes to make and that seemed to calm them. Often I was rewarded with a smile through the tears. For the lads, I made a braided length of oakum with a cowrie shell at each end.
She’s too thin
, I thought.
Many of the slaves were too thin—bone-thin, some of them. I’d mentioned this to Uncle: that perhaps we needed to increase their portions, that sometimes the stronger at the mess ate more food, while the weaker received less than their share. But he said he’d been in the business for twenty years. That he knew what he was doing. That yams were particularly bulky storage items and we could only store so many. Feed them too much now, he said, and we wouldn’t have enough to reach the Americas. Couldn’t have them dying of starvation at the very time they went to market. Buyers wanted healthy negroes.
I sighed and turned to the next fellow. He’d been sitting propped against the bulkhead, but now he lay slumped over sideways, eyes open, not moving.
He’s dead
, I thought.
And indeed he was.
My nausea surfaced just as someone whipped open the door to the infirmary. Normally, fresh air would brush through a cabin upon the opening of a door, but there was only more humidity and heat.
It was Billy the Vermin, as I’d come to call him.
“Holy Mother of God, it stinks down here,” he said.
I vomited into one of the many buckets, my head throbbing like a drum. Afterward I wiped my mouth with my handkerchief. “What do you want, Billy?”
He was strolling past the pallets, eyeballing everyone. When he saw the corpse, he bent over and poked it. “Why, I’ll be jiggered. He’s dead.”
“Unless you’ve a complaint, you need to clear off.”
Billy grinned.
“Really, Billy, I must turn in.” I yawned, stretched, and rubbed my eyes.
“You can’t,” he said, scratching his scalp with a disgusting vigor. “The king commands your presence on deck.”
I frowned. “You mean, the captain.”
“No, the king.” And as I was shirtless, he tugged me toward the door by the waist of my trousers.
“Billy, I’ve not time for your silly games. Carry this man outside. He’s dead.”
Still tugging at me, he stared at the corpse. “But that’s Mackerel’s job. Mack’s and Roach’s.”
“Then go fetch Mack and Roach.”
“But first you gotta come with me. The king commands. He says if you don’t obey, he’ll chop off your head.” He grinned again. “He said if you don’t come, you’ll be very, very,
very
sorry. Please come, please.…” And all the while, he tugged at my trousers.
I glanced about the infirmary. Really, it
would
be nice to see the sky. And it was probably the only way I could get rid of Billy the Vermin. “All right, then. Stop tugging, pretend to be normal, and I’ll come with you.”
It was as if I’d told him we were going to play in the dirt and smash worms. He bounced up the companionway, telling me to hurry, hurry!
But the moment I stepped out of the fore hatchway onto the deck, blinking like a mole in the brightness, wondering why everyone—sailors, cook, carpenter, and all—was gathered about, grinning at me, I was grabbed on
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