close reading and then said, "Somethin like this." He began to toll them off: "Schooner
Donald Beam,
master-owner Hugh Beam, out o' St. Thomas, thirty tons o' ballast, nine hundred oranges, barrel o' yams, one demijohn gin, one thousand dollars in gold..."
I looked at Teetoncey. Her eyes had narrowed. I wondered why.
"Here's another one," said Filene. "Brigantine
Herbert Pettit,
master Craig Thompson, thirty-four puncheons o' molasses, eleven barrels o' sugar, one bundle o' letters, twelve hundred bushels o' salt, seven hundred fifty dollars in gold..."
Teetoncey shook her head, saying, "I did not see anything like that." But she had a queer look on her face, as if a small goose egg might be stuck in her throat.
Filene said, "Well, she mus' 'ave been in ballast. We didn't see any signs o' cargo."
Tee fell silent once again.
Filene stood up. "Bye 'n bye, we'll hear from the Barbadoes an' from Lloyds o' London."
I came out of my refuge in the corner, where I'd been listening, but Filene said loudly, "I haven't finished, Ben..."
I retreated.
To Teetoncey he said gently, "We took the normal respects with those bodies, Mark Jennette carved an A on the crosses we thought was your mama and papa."
"Thank you," said Tee, visibly sad.
Then Filene eyed me sharply. "Tell your mama I did not eat this girl alive."
I nodded respectfully and took Teetoncey up to the lookout cupola where Luther Gaskins was on duty, watching a three-masted schooner through the long glass. Then I showed her the equipment room with the breeches buoy, which is like a pair of sawed-off canvas pants, hanging under a round ring float which resembles a mainland toilet seat. The canvas pants run on a line between the wrecked ship and shore. I also showed her the lifesaving car, which is shaped like a cigar and holds four men; dangles beneath the line from shore to ship; next, the lap-boarded surfboats which were rowed out to wrecked vessels. She was impressed. She also liked the practice wreck pole and I took pains to say I'd once had a wild ride down from it in a breeches buoy.
But a Hatteras cat had her tongue all the way home. She was clearly troubled about something above and beyond her deceased folks.
When we got to the house I found out that the mail rider had brought a letter from Reuben. He said he was sorry but he'd be gone on the
Elnora Langhans
for at least another eight months. The coasting brig was now shuttling cargo between Port Fernandino and Trinidad. He sent us a hundred dollars which was plenty to last between now and spring, when Mama and I would start making gill nets again, especially since I was still getting five dollars a month from the Burrus store. Mama was sad, though, that Reuben would be gone so many months. I missed him, too.
4
T EETONCEY WAS a chatterbox at supper and I suppose it was because she was still bereaved and frightened; still uneasy in a strange house and unknowing of us, though that was changing. Mama said that people who are skitterish sometimes talk a lot and say nothing. She said plenty. Whatever was priming her pump, it all gushed out. That girl evidently knew her London.
I learned that Teetoncey lived in a fancy section called Belgravia, off Belgrave Square, near Hyde Park, in a four-story house that had iron-railed balconies. I had guessed, previously, that she lived in a fancy place so Belgravia was not a surprise. They had a horse tender, known as a groom, and a gardener and a gardener's boy, and a parlormaid and a housemaid and "tweeny" maids, which I took to be maids that ran between the floors. They also had a house in the country and Teetoncey went to a private school. Sundays, in season, they strolled in Hyde Park with her papa in a top hat and her mama with an umbrella, even though it wasn't raining. My mouth was open the whole time as was the mouth of Widow O'Neal.
I left when Mama started talking about having a "tea" so that all the women on the Outer Banks could hear about London firsthand.