Read Online Death in Salem by Eleanor Kuhns - Free Book Online Page B

movement below. When she saw Billy she smiled, and he looked up at her with a wide grin. Now Rees knew why they had taken a route with so many twists and turns.
    â€œAnnie.” The sharp voice carried clearly through the open window. “Annie. Where are you, girl?”
    The girl glanced over her shoulder and then, without answering, turned back to her study of the boy below.
    â€œAnnie. There’s work to be done.” The sharp-tongued woman summoning the girl must have entered the room; her voice was louder and Annie turned reluctantly, frowning, and disappeared from the window.
    Rees forgot the little maid as he stepped for the first time upon Salem dock. All of this sea town smelled of salt, but here the tang, mixed with the rotting stink of the outgoing tide, was overpowering. Gulls screamed overhead and flocks of them rested on every surface; they were almost tame, dropping down to the wooden dock to hunt for scraps. Although accustomed to gulls—he was from the District of Maine, after all—Rees had never seen such brazen birds. The flocks were more like packs of some small carnivore, relentless and demanding, and reluctant to move except at the threat of some attacking boot.
    He had come out somewhere near the middle of the docks. Warehouses and businesses lined the dock on either side of him, and wharves of all different lengths stretched greedily into the harbor. One was so long, a mile or more, that the end was lost in the glare of the rising sun.
    â€œI’ve got to hurry,” Billy said. Rees had almost forgotten him. “I expect I’ll see you tonight.” With a little wave, Billy turned and began sprinting up the dock, heading north by Rees’s reckoning.
    Rees began his leisurely stroll, following Billy. He made a few excursions down the wharves that stretched like wooden fingers into the harbor. Like the docks, they were crowded with shops, counting houses, and warehouses. The produce of the world was piled here: cotton and sugar, barrels of molasses from the West Indies, raisins and lemons from Spain, and silks and chests of tea from China. Everyone was busy, except him. Even the ship’s store was full of customers; men choosing candles and barrels of hardtack, biscuits and other foodstuffs fit for long voyages. At the extreme northern end of the docks, near the tannery, was the ropewalk where Billy Baldwin was employed. It occupied a wharf’s length of its own. When Rees peered inside, he saw Billy and other boys pulling the braided twine back and forth and retwisting it to make many yards of thick rope cables. A cooper next door was busily fashioning barrels for molasses and rum.
    Rees turned around and retraced his steps past the piers for the whaling ships. They set sail from the northern end of the docks. Because these vessels did not require such deep water, the wharves here were shorter. The boards and the dirt leading to the warehouses were black with oil. Sailors of all colors—African black, the coppery color of Indians, and white men burned brown—jostled one another.
    Finally, as he walked south, Rees came upon the Boothe wharf. It was shorter than several of the others, and he wondered if the length of the wharf bore some relation to the status of the family. Three vessels were docked alongside. One, the Boothe’s Hindoo Queen, was preparing to leave.
    Rees joined the crowd watching as the ship prepared to set sail. A party atmosphere prevailed. Children ran around screaming in excitement. Street vendors sold pies and fruit and Rees suspected there were more than a few pickpockets working the crowd. He smiled, imagining Lydia’s excitement at witnessing the lively play before her. She had lived many years as a Shaker, a plain and simple life without these small joys. Since their marriage she had been busy with all the chores of life on the farm and now, with all the children, was busier still. Rees’s smile faded. He wished he