CONVICTED
Chapter Three
I ran out the courthouse door,
following the men on foot. Jack was brought to the dock, thrashing and cursing
at the same time.
"I didn’t do it! Do you hear
me?" he yelled.
Soon he was loaded up onto the
cargo ship and it sailed away from the dock. I quickly ran back to the house
and grabbed a rucksack. I stuffed a bunch of apples inside of it and a few
other articles and ran back out to the dock.
Another cargo ship was headed
straight for Queenstown, Ireland, which was where they were taking Jack for his
punishment. There was a hatch door open at the bottom of the ship, so I took a
running start and jumped in the door when no one was looking.
The cargo hold was cold and rather
crowded. Crates of food and other exported goods were piled there, and even a
few automobiles. Soon, the hatch door was shut and everything was dark. I
climbed into the back of an automobile and lay down on the soft, cushiony
backseat.
I felt the ship jerk and I knew
that we were off. The journey alone would take a few days, so I had to ration
what I had. I took small bites of my apples despite my hunger.
"I’m coming for you,
Jack," I said to myself. "I’m coming."
*****
Jack leaned against the inside of
the ship and rested his head on the back of a cargo box filled with fruit. A
few guards paced back and forth, each of them keeping an eye on Jack, guns
loaded.
Jack put the palms of his hands
onto his forehead.
"This cannot be
happening," he told himself.
He closed his eyes, hoping that
when he opened them up he’d be back with Marie in their nice little house. He
opened them to a guard staring at him strangely, and then he continued pacing.
Something told Jack that Marie
was coming for him, that she was coming to help him out of this predicament.
"Come Josephine, in my
flying machine, going up she goes, up she goes. Balance yourself like a bird on
a beam. In the air she goes, there she goes. Up, up, a little bit higher. Oh,
my, the moon is on fire. Come, Josephine in my flying machine, going up, all
on, good-bye…" Jack sang quietly to himself.
*****
"Come Josephine, in my
flying machine, going up she goes, up she goes. Balance yourself like a bird on
a beam. In the air she goes, there she goes. Up, up, a little bit higher. Oh,
my, the moon is on fire. Come, Josephine in my flying machine, going up, all
on, good-bye…" I was singing as well.
We were singing quietly to
ourselves. After the end of the song, I began to cry.
"Nothing will tear us apart,
Jack," I said. "Nothing."