I
The trip to America seemed as if God himself wanted to strike Lady Joan down. The sun rose red and had punctured the chests of the crewmen, prayers ringing from each nook of the ship. Sometimes it seemed as if bells rang from the thundering, scalping heavens. The sea parted and clasped her in its open palms. Lady Joan, however, split the sea in, rocking and bucking into the port ten weeks after she had set sail, after a healthy birth and two full recoveries from some strange illness.
As the ship lay finally sleeping in the calmness of the American cradle, I readied for my trip down into the swamp areas of the south. The carriage was a gentle trip, though I do not remember just how long it might have lasted. I picked at my envelopes.
Dearest Jonah, I am terribly sorry, I heard about your father. I would have written much earlier, but I was advised not to by your fathers brother, Richard, bless his heart. My old friend, I write because I need a favor-
Four pages of pleasantries and paddling before arriving at the inevitable request. Samuel needed a favor, what else. An acquaintance of a dear friend, or a cousin of a cousin, whatever it may be, was in dire need of a new tutor. Whatever it may be. I would never have thought of entertaining the favor, not from a man such as Samuel who had so harshly driven us to shame, I owed a debt I had no intention of clearing, and I made promises I had no intention of keeping. I could smuggle myself, two thousand miles away, yes. And I did. For my own good, God forgive me. If he was out there.
And out there something does crawl, as far as I can see. Crawls at the bottom of the wetland puddle, on its knees and toes, elbows and forearms, digging at the earth ready to pounce. Ready to clench its jaw, brushing and cutting through the mosses and the lily pads. Whatever face of god i knew back home morphed into a different beast on this side of the globe, I reckon.
