ROMANOV AUTUMN
Chapter Forty-One
When Bridget and Harry finally
got up enough nerve to suggest employment to Jack, he seemed interested. The
idea of distracting himself with something was too good to pass up.
Harry took him to Monterey after
a long discussion and offered to help him find lodging. "We would love to
have you stay with us," he explained, "but it’s too far away."
Jack shook his head. "No
need to explain," he promised. "I'm not great company these days."
Harry gave him an encouraging hug
and pat on the shoulder. "It'll get easier," he said, and Jack wished
he could feel that confident. It was difficult to feel anything but emotional
anguish at this point.
"Thank you for having
me," Jack added when they arrived. "I think I can handle myself from
here."
Harry looked uncertain--his
friend was in a bad way, and couldn't imagine being alone at a time like this.
"I really don't think that's
a good idea," Harry pointed out. "You shouldn't be alone."
Jack climbed out of the carriage
and pulled the rucksack from the back seat. "Don't worry about me,"
Jack insisted. "I'll be fine."
Harry blew out his breath.
"Famous last words," he muttered, but decided to let his friend go.
"Take care of yourself, Jack," he said. "Make sure you write to
us once you're settled."
Jack promised he would, and waved
half-heartedly as the carriage disappeared from view. He gazed up at the late
afternoon sky, deciding to find the squid boats. He'd never done anything quite
like this, but it never hurt to try something new.
The manager of the company, Mr.
Williams, gave him a strange look.
"Ever been on a boat
before?" the middle-aged man asked, and Jack straightened up. He was so
tired, and wanted nothing more than to find a place to lay down--he didn't care
where.
"I worked on an ocean liner
a few years back, sir," he replied.
"I see." Mr. Williams
rubbed his chin and continued to give him a close looking over. "This is a
dirty job, son. You'll be fishing for squid six hours a day and packaging them.
The position pays fifteen cents an hour, and Sundays are free."
Jack took the position without
hesitation and gave his word that he would report to the boatyard for duty by
seven the following morning.
He was too weary to bother
looking for a hotel or somewhere to stay, so he curled up under one of the
local bridges and used his rucksack for a pillow. The water gently trickled
past him, sounding almost like a leaky faucet.
Before he knew it, he drifted off
to sleep, waking just before the sun rose. He cringed at the soreness of his
joints, and knew without checking in a mirror that he looked terrible. He
washed his face in the river and tried to make himself somewhat presentable for
his first day.
Not that it matters,
considering I'll smell worse than I do now once the day is done, he thought, and cleared his throat before
gathering his things.
As he headed towards the docks,
he lifted his face to the sky. The weather was beautiful today, sunny and warm,
but with a light breeze. May tended to be one of those in between months, where
it could be warm, but at the same time, winter's chill still hung in the air.
Mr. Williams greeted Jack when he
arrived and introduced him to his boating partners. The air had a familiar
smell of rotten eggs, and he watched as other men strolled casually along the
dock, carrying crates or working with ropes connected to the bobbing boats.
Jack would be working with two
other men, both around his age. As usual, he felt small and puny compared to
these six-foot muscular giants.
"Good to meet you,
Jack," the man with dark brown hair and sun-baked skin announced.
"I'm Danny, and this is Robert, but everybody calls him Robbie."
Jack nodded as he helped load the
equipment into the boat, which included big nets and box traps. He tried to
avoid lifting the heavier pieces, not wanting to embarrass himself
unnecessarily.
"Where are you from,
Dawson?" Robbie asked, running a hand through his red hair and over his
sweaty face.
"Wisconsin," Jack
replied simply. "Chippewa Falls, to be exact."
"Never heard of it,"
Dan admitted. "Married?"
Jack stopped what he was
doing--the question was like a slap in the face.
"I was," he answered,
and the other two glanced at each other.
"Was? Did you divorce?"
Robbie took another crate and handed it to Danny, who found space for it on one
of the seats.
"No," Jack replied,
clearing his throat. "My wife died a few weeks ago."
Both men frowned and apologized
for being too nosey.
"It's all right," Jack
insisted. "You couldn't have known." He climbed in when it was time
to sail and watched as the water below lapped up against the sides.
"Shall we get this hunk of
junk moving?" Robbie asked, trying desperately to change the subject, and
Danny saluted him.
"Jack, can you untie us from
the dock?" he asked, and Jack stretched as far as his body would allow,
taking the rope into his fingers. He eased himself back down and took a deep
breath...he hoped his stomach would cooperate. Luckily, the water seemed calm,
but that didn't necessarily mean anything.
"So...squid fishing?"
Jack asked as they made their way slowly but surely out to the middle of the
bay, and Danny snickered.
"I take it they don’t do
much of that in Wisconsin, eh?" he asked, and Jack shook his head. He'd
fished once or twice before with his father, but not since.
"No." He laughed, and
Danny launched into a lengthy explanation of why the trade was so important.
"Have you ever tasted squid
before?" Robbie asked, and Jack cringed a little at the idea.
"Can't say I have, no,"
he admitted, and they grinned at him.
"We'll have to take you out
for squid sometime," Danny encouraged him. "It's a popular delicacy
these days."
Jack nodded, trying desperately
to ignore his stomach, which decided to start rolling more the further out they
went. He asked each of his co-workers about their lives, wondering where they
came from and what brought them to California. Danny had come from upstate New
York and was reaching his second year in California.
"I've done chimney sweeping,
trash collecting...I'm no stranger to dirt and grime," he admitted, and
Robbie laughed. "See, I've always had a dream to move out west, and heard
really good things about this state. When I saved enough money to come out
here, I never regretted it."
"Whereas my fiancée wanted
to be a moving picture star, so she dragged me here," Robbie teased,
having grown up in the New England area. "It was her dream to come to
Hollywood, and we're hopefully going to be married within the year."
"Congratulations," Jack
replied, and Robbie cocked his head to one side, concern written all over his
face.
"Are you okay, Jack?"
he asked. "Your skin's a little green..."
Before he could finish his
sentence, Jack couldn't hold the nausea back anymore. He leaned over the side
of the small boat, throwing up whatever he'd eaten over the past day.
Thankfully, due to his lack of funds, a hearty meal was a bit difficult to come
by.
"Jesus," Danny
muttered, and rolled his eyes, offering a canteen of fresh water once Jack
managed to pull himself upright again. He clutched his stomach for a moment,
swallowing hard.
"That was humiliating,"
he muttered, accepting the water, and took a sip to wash out the bitter taste
from his mouth. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I've never done
well on boats, no matter how big."
Robbie snorted with amusement and
sat back down when he was sure the younger man wouldn't be sick again. "As
long as it's not a regular event, no problem," he said, and Jack felt his
cheeks grow warm with embarrassment.
Thankfully, his stomach felt much
better as the day went on, especially once they began pulling in the hordes of
strange-looking sea creatures. Jack was fascinated, wishing he had a camera to
take a photograph.
*****
Over the next few weeks, Jack
continued with the squid fishing trade. He found an inexpensive flat once he
made a fair salary, but hardly spent any time at all in it. When he wasn't
working, Jack wandered through the city, attempting to concentrate on his art.
Alyiah's face still remained
vivid in his mind--he awoke late at night to her screams of pain, mingled with
those of a wailing baby. Every night the dreams became more realistic, to the
point where he found it difficult to drift off to sleep. After a particularly
nasty dream, he shot up in bed, clutching his blankets to his chest. The wails
still echoed in his ears, and he stumbled out of bed with the intention of
comforting the baby apparently in his charge.
The small bedroom lit up with a
faint orange glow, and he glanced all around, expecting to see a crib sitting
in the corner, but the only large objects visible were his desk and small chest
of drawers.
He leaned heavily against the
dresser, unsure of how to handle his most recent nightmare, and stumbled
wearily to where a basin of water sat. Jack splashed his face with cold water
and moved the candle to the corner of the desk.
You know it's impossible to
take care of a child right now, a voice spoke in his mind as he rummaged around for paper and ink.
He knew that was true, for he barely made enough money to support himself on a
daily basis. Little Macena would more than likely die if he took her at this
point in his life, and he knew Alyiah, if she were still alive, would be
furious if he even considered the idea.
Once he gathered enough paper, he
took a deep breath and decided to compose a letter to Olivia back in Wisconsin.
He needed to check up on his child; he wanted her to know he hadn't truly
abandoned her. Someday, perhaps, when his quality of life improved, he would
come back.
May 29, 1904
Dear Olivia,
My sincerest apologies for not
having written you sooner. I am currently living in Monterey, California, and
have found employment with the fishing industry, fishing for squid. Harry and
Bridget allowed me to stay with them for a couple of days after my arrival, but
I could not stay there forever. Alyiah's death has taken its toll on me, I am
afraid...it is difficult to sleep at night without hearing her voice or seeing
her face in my mind.
I keep thinking of our little
daughter, and am plagued with guilt for having left so abruptly. However, at
this point in time, it would be impossible for me to care for a child, though
someday I hope to return and fulfill the dreams Alyiah had for her. Those I
will explain later. I promise.
How is Esther? Last I
remember, her health was not at its best, and I do hope she is all right.
It is getting late, and I must
attempt sleep or I will be of no use at the docks in the morning.
My love as always,
Jack
Jack read the letter several
times, massaging his forehead wearily, and folded the paper before stuffing it
into an envelope. He scribbled Esther's address on it, along with his own in
the corner, and set it in a place where he would not forget to bring it along
the next day.
What am I doing? he thought once he blew the candle out and
crawled back under the covers.
Please, when you receive this
letter, tell my little girl I am so sorry and love her with all of my heart.