Whither Thou Goest

Chapter 3-1

Chapter 3“Enjoy the moonlight swim, Johnny?”

“Yeah, Mr. Chetwood.” I leaned into his side. “I’d never have known what I was missing if I hadn’t met you.” Only I wasn’t talking about swimming. I wondered if my lover knew it. “I didn’t realize we were gone so long.”

“What?”

I pointed to the sky ahead of us. “The sun’s already coming up.”

“That’s the west. Jesus, Johnny, that’s not the sun. Something’s on fire in Selamat datan!”

“Not the August Moon, Mr. Chetwood?”

“No.” He broke into a run, and I followed on his heels. “It doesn’t look like it’s coming from the harbor. Oh, sweet—” A tent behind the bar where we’d dined was burning fiercely. “That must be Patterson’s tent.” Simian shrieks filled the night. “Oh, those poor little bastards.”

The fire raged out of control, and the bucket brigade had given up on the tent. Men were frantically wetting down neighboring structures in hopes of saving them from the inferno.

“Help me! Please, help me!” The little girl, clothed in a nightdress streaked with soot, was trying to drag an inert figure away from the blazing canvas. Mr. Chetwood and I jumped forward to each grab an arm and pull the old man the rest of the way out. His clothes were a charred ruin, and the odor of burnt flesh almost overcame me.

I stared in horror at my hands, which were covered in the ash that had been his shirt and skin. “Is there a doctor in the village?”

Mr. Chetwood had his ear pressed to Patterson’s chest, listening for a heartbeat. He sat back on his heels, caught my eye, and shook his head. “It’s no use.”

The little girl burst into tears. “Daddy! Daddy, you can’t leave me!” She fisted her little hands in his shirt, but when she would have shaken him, it came apart, leaving her with the same handful of ash. “You can’t leave!”

Mr. Chetwood put an arm around her and urged her to her feet. “I’m sorry, Antoinette.”

“Hildy.” Her eyes glittered with tears.

“Excuse me?”

“Daddy said ‘Antoinette’ sounded more professional, but my name is really Hildy.”

“Is there anyone you can stay with, Hildy?”

She sniffled and ran the heels of her hands under her eyes. “No. It was just Daddy and me.”

“Mr. Chetwood, who’s going to look after her?” I asked.

“I can take care of myself.” The little girl’s voice cracked on a sob. “I’m—I’m very self-reliant.” She burst into tears again.

A large woman dressed in a sarong stepped forward. “I take little missy. She come home with me.”

My lover looked relieved. “Good. We’ll take up a collection so she has a little money. Where are you staying? I’ll bring it to you in the morning.”

The woman gestured to a row of ramshackle houses. “Just ask for Puan Noor.” She put her arm around the little girl and hustled her away.

One of the men in the group snapped his fingers and pointed to the body on the ground. “Bury him. Bodies no keep in this heat.”

My lover was gazing intently into the shadows. “Is that Lillegard?”

“I don’t see anyone.” I stared after the Malay woman. “Does she look familiar, Mr. Chetwood?”

“Hmm?” He brought his attention back to me. “Oh, they all look alike, kid. You probably saw someone who looked like her when we were sightseeing.”

But I didn’t think I had seen her in the streets of Selamat datan.

* * * *

“It really isn’t much, Mr. Chetwood,” I murmured as we walked through Selamat datan late the next morning. “What’s she going to do?”

“This is a lot of money for these islands, kid. She’ll make out fine. Hey,” he hailed a boy of around eight. “Where does Puan Noor live?”

The boy leered at us and pointed to a house whose roof was in dire need of repair. Mr. Chetwood frowned but walked to the doorway.

“You give her to me, Puan Noor,” we heard someone say in a low, harsh voice. “Her father promised her to me.”

“I no think so. Little missy stay with me.”

“I told you she’d be oke, kid,” Mr. Chetwood whispered. “Miss Noor will take good care of Hildy.” He rapped on the doorframe. “Puan Noor, I have some money for the little girl.”

“I be one minute,” she called, but it was longer than that. “So sorry, Joe. You give Puan Noor the dough.”

“Who was that in here?” I asked her, seeing that there was no one else in the room.

“I no know what you talkin’ ‘bout, Joe. I all alone.”

I studied her eyes, but they revealed nothing. “Where’s Hildy? I’d like to say goodbye.”

“Little missy still asleep, Joe. She cry long time for father. You go now. Puan Noor got t’ings to do.”

“Let’s go, Johnny. The cargo’s been loaded, and we’ll be leaving in half an hour.” He gave the woman a polite salute and walked out. I followed him, although I was reluctant to leave without seeing the little girl.

“Mr. Chetwood,” I said urgently, “she’s American. We can’t just leave her.”

“She can’t come with us. The men on the ship are some of the worst scum I’ve ever come across. The skipper didn’t have much choice—he was in such a hurry to leave he had to take what he could get to man her. We can’t expose a little girl to riffraff like that.”

“But Church—” We were almost at the pier, but we could still turn around and get Hildy.

His head whipped around at my use of his name. “Johnny, we can’t—”

“Chetwood!” It was Thorvald Lillegard, and I hoped he wouldn’t keep us standing there long. If the August Moon was leaving soon, I’d have to come up with some damned good arguments to take the little girl with us.

Mr. Chetwood studied Lillegard from the soles of his worn canvas shoes to the dirty cap on his head. “What?”

“You gotta take me with you on the August Moon.” He grabbed my lover’s arm and I could see him dig his fingers in. I slipped my hand into my pocket and reached for my shiv, not that the Norwegian noticed. He was too intent on making my lover do as he wanted. “Johansen’s a good man—he’ll go along with it if you ask him.”

“No.” Mr. Chetwood shook off Lillegard’s grip and stepped aside to walk around the edgy man.

“Listen, Chetwood. Listen to me.” He dogged after us. “I didn’t tell you everything about Iwi Po’o.”

“No?”

“No! Behind that wall! I know what’s behind that wall!”

“No fooling, Lillegard. And what would you know about what was behind the wall?” Mr. Chetwood asked sardonically. He’d told me it was actually a mountain range that separated the two sides of the island. One side was accessible only from the sea, while the entire other was walled off by sheer cliffs and reached by a tunnel-like cave.

“The native I found, he told me there’s a treasure. Jewels!”

“What?”

Satisfied that he had caught my lover’s interest, the Norwegian drew in a deep breath. He licked his lips, his gaze darting this way and that, almost as if he was trying to buy himself some time, I thought.

“He—uh—he said there was a temple, an old temple, to one of their gods, uh—behind that wall, and—uh—in that temple was a fortune in jewels. Diamonds. Sapphires as blue as this kid’s eyes. Rubies as big as your nose. Worth a king’s ransom, he said.”

“A temple to one of their gods? Why didn’t you mention this when you wagered the map?”

“I thought I had the winnin’ hand—that I couldn’t lose. An’ then when I did, I was sore, an’ decided I wouldn’t tell you. I figured I knew the latitude an’ longitude, I’d maybe go sail there myself. Only I lost my ship before I could, an’…”

Mr. Chetwood’s lip curled, and he turned and walked toward the pier.

“No, wait,” Lillegard pleaded, and he ran after him.

I stood there undecided for a moment, then went back to the Malay woman’s house.

* * * *

“You’re not hungry, Johnny?”

I gave a guilty start and stared down at my food, which I’d been pushing from one side of my plate to the other. “Not really, Mr. Chetwood. I grabbed a bite at the marketplace before I came back on board,” I lied.

“So that’s what held you up.” He leaned forward and ruffled my hair. His action loosened it from the tie that kept it out of my face. “You nearly missed the boat, you know.”

“I know,” I said in a subdued voice, brushing my hair back behind my ears. “I’m sorry. Thank you for not sailing without me.”

Mr. Chetwood frowned at me as if he found my statement perplexing, but it was Captain Johansen who said, “Not at all, young man. Chet would have been unbearable to live with if you’d been left behind. However reticent he might be about it, I think you’re good for my friend.”

I risked a glance at the skipper. He really thought that? But he was mopping up a bit of gravy with a chunk of fresh bread and didn’t notice my hopeful expression. “Thank you, Captain. Um…I think I’ll turn in, if you don’t mind?”

“You going to leave your plate here, Johnny? Skipper and I will split your dinner. There’s no need for Charley to know you didn’t want it.”

“Oh. No. That’s oke, Mr. Chetwood. I wouldn’t want to hurt Charley’s feelings. I’ll just…er…take it with me for later.”

“If…you’re…sure?” His words were measured, and the way he was watching me made me nervous.

“Yes. ‘Night.” I hurried out of the cabin. How long would I be able to keep my secret? And what would Mr. Chetwood think of me when he found it out?

* * * *

The lantern shed a dim light in our cabin. I lay on the bunk I shared with my lover…my lover…I bit my lip and stared morosely at the shadows that were cast on the wall.

When the door opened, I shut my eyes and tried to regulate my breathing, pretending to be asleep. I could feel Mr. Chetwood’s gaze on me. “What are you up to, John Smith?” he murmured, running his hand over my hair. “And when are you going to tell me?”

“Huh? Wha—?” I turned over, pretending to waken. “Oh, Church. You say something?”

“What’s wrong, John?” He usually called me Johnny or kid.

“Nothing. I swear.” But I couldn’t meet his eyes.

He dropped his hands to his belt and began to undress. “Why don’t I believe you?”

I rolled onto my side, huddling in on myself, chilled in spite of the muggy night air. Suddenly, I felt my nightshirt sliding up over the backs of my thighs, over my ass, to be abandoned at the point of my ribs.

His palms were warm as they stroked their way back down and pushed me onto my belly. He gripped my buttocks and parted them. I tried to hold myself still, uncertain what my lover had in mind for me, but my control was shattered by the touch of his tongue first licking delicately at my hole and then curling to penetrate it. I buried my head in my pillow to prevent my stunned cry from going any farther.

He turned his head and caressed the curve of my ass with his lips. He bit down into it, and then began to work his lips and tongue, marking it. I knew when he was done there would be a deep purple bruise.

He probed my hole with slicked fingers, finding entry made even easier by the actions of his tongue. I tried to get my knees under me so I could push backward.

“No. I don’t want you to move. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” I bit down hard on my lip to keep myself from crying. I was lucky he had taken the time to prepare me, but I understood. He was going to f**k me, to teach me a lesson for keeping things from him. I wondered if he’d put me off the ship, leave me behind at the next port we came to.

I held myself motionless, but I couldn’t prevent the shudders that racked my body.

“Easy, kid. Easy.”

With a single smooth thrust, he entered me, his c**k a huge intrusion stretching my back passage, and then he blanketed my body with his. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me snug against him, then twined our fingers together and eased us over onto our sides. My ass was cradled against his groin, and he started a gentle rocking motion. I would have sworn I could feel each wiry hair that surrounded his c**k brushing against my ass, and especially the love bite he’d placed there.