Free A Silent Ocean Away by DeVa Gantt

pulley.”
    Paul gritted his teeth. “Where the hell is he?”
    The black man pointed toward the deck, and all eyes followed. Jessie Rowlan was leaning on the railing. Paul strode purposefully up the gangway, his irate regard unwavering.
    Jessie Rowlan turned to meet the attack, wearing a vengeful grin. “What can I do for you, Mr. Doo- vwah -zan?” he queried snidely.
    “Are you responsible for that mess down there?”
    “What do you mean ‘responsible’? The way I sees it, ain’t no one ‘responsible.’ Just a little accident, is all.”
    “The way I see it,” Paul growled, “the wrong equipment was used. We have block and tackle for crates and we have block and tackle for casks, something you might have remembered if you weren’t so drunk! But since you were the one working the pulley, I’m holding you directly responsible for the ‘accident’ as you call it. I cannot abide such stupidity, and I certainly can’t afford it. Tomorrow you may collect your wages from Jake Watson, out of which I shall deduct the money not only lost on the damaged goods, but on the equipment as well. After that, I never want to see your sorry face again.”
    Renewed loathing welled up in Jessie Rowlan’s eyes. “Well, if it ain’t the high-and-mighty Paul Duvoisin, who thinks he owns the whole goddamn place. Well, sir, I got me some friends, and you’ll be regrettin’ you ever said that. You think you’re better than everybody else. Well, you ain’t. You ain’t even as good as most of the men here. At least we ain’t bastards —rich or otherwise!”
    Paul seized him by the throat, lifting him clear off the deck. “Utter that word again and I swear you’re a dead man! Hear me? A dead man!”
    “Yes!” Jessie Rowlan choked out.
    In an instant, Paul sent him sailing, and he lay sprawled on the deck. He jumped to his feet and dashed off the ship, the dockworkers stepping back as he retreated, all unusually quiet.
    “What was that all about?” Charmaine whispered.
    “I’ll explain later,” Gwendolyn hushed, straining to hear.
    “All right, Jake,” Paul called down to the pier, “let’s see what the men can salvage with a few shovels and a couple of barrels. I should have sent the lot back to John when I realized it was still in the hold.”
    “I don’t think it was your brother’s fault, sir,” Jake shouted up. “I should have checked the labeling more carefully. I thought it said—”
    “No matter, Jake! It looks like a storm is rolling in, and we’ll have a bigger mess on our hands if it pours before that tea is cleared away. There’s a bonus if the job is finished before the first drops hit!”
    Hearing this, the men scrambled to do his bidding. Satisfied, Paul turned back to his work.
    “Why did Jessie Rowlan call Paul that nasty name?” Charmaine pressed as she and Gwendolyn rushed home.
    “What name?”
    “You know the name, Gwendolyn. Mr. Harrington used it during our voyage here and grew uncomfortable when he remembered I was present. I know it’s not a nice word. Why won’t you tell me?”
    “There’s nothing to tell,” Gwendolyn said, embarrassed by a subject she was not supposed to know about. “The man was cussing, and Paul became angry.”
    “No, it was more than that. Paul didn’t lose his temper until Jessie Rowlan said that word.” Still, Gwendolyn refused to shed light on the subject. “Is it because Paul is adopted—illegitimate?” she pressed.
    “How did you know that?”
    “Captain Wilkinson mentioned it.”
    “Did he also mention what the townspeople whisper?”
    “He didn’t gossip, if that’s what you mean.”
    Gwendolyn lifted her nose. “And that’s exactly why I won’t repeat it.”
    The gleam in Gwendolyn’s eyes told Charmaine the girl was dying to tell all. “It won’t go any further than me, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
    “Well,” Gwendolyn hesitated, looking around. “People sayPaul is Frederic Duvoisin’s bastard son,” and she