Read Online The Ghosts of Aquinnah by Julie Flanders - Free Book Online
Authors: Julie Flanders
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“Don’t trouble yourself, ma’am,” he said. “I’ve just come to talk to you all about the Columbus .”
Christopher froze at the mention of the ship that had nearly taken his life. “You want to talk about the shipwreck?” he said.
“ That he does,” Mr. Mayhew said. “This is Arthur Chesham from the Boston Globe. He’s been on the island and over in New Bedford learning about the wreck, but he hadn’t been able to get up here to us until now.”
Josiah got to his feet and strode towards the reporter. “Good to meet you, Mr. Chesham,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Dr. Josiah Winslow.”
“ Good to meet you as well, Doctor. I assume you helped treat the survivors?”
“ You assume right, but it was just this one boy here,” Josiah said, pointing at Christopher, who rose from his chair. “We didn’t get anyone else.”
“ There were other survivors?” Christopher asked.
The reporter nodded. “The cutter Dexter picked them up and took them to New Bedford. And one of the lifeboats from the Columbus came ashore on the beach in Lobsterville. Three of the crew members were on it and they’re staying with some folks there. But as far as I know you’re the only survivor here in Gay Head.”
“ There was someone else in the boat with me. When I was rescued.”
“ That man died in the boat, Christopher,” Mr. Mayhew said. “He was dead when we pulled you out.”
Christopher lowered his head. “God help him.”
“ More than 100 dead is what we’re hearing,” Chesham said. “Bodies are still washing up and many have already been taken to the meeting house so their families can claim ‘em.” He glanced at Christopher. “You’re a lucky one, sir.”
“ His name’s Casey,” Josiah said. “Christopher Casey.”
Chesham nodded. “Then you’re a lucky one, Mr. Casey.” The reporter cleared his throat. “Let me explain why I’m here. I met with the Gay Headers who manned the boat and took some photographs of them. I’d like to do the same with you folks.”
“ A picture of us?” Stella asked. “Why?”
Chesham bowed slightly. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am. And you are?”
“ She’s my wife, Stella. And I’d like to know the answer to her question, too.”
“ Of course,” Chesham said. “I’m writing a story about the attempts to rescue survivors when the Columbus went down. I’d like to include your care of Mr. Casey here. Frankly, I think you all deserve to be recognized. My readers will want to know about your efforts.”
Stella pushed a wayward strand of hair behind her ears. “I’ve never had a photograph taken,” she said. “I think it sounds like fun. What do you think, Josiah?”
“ I don’t see any harm in it.”
Chesham smiled. “Great. I’ll need you all to come outside. I know it’s cold but I’d like to have the lighthouse as our background.”
“ I’ll stay here and make you all some fresh coffee for when you get done,” Mrs. Mayhew said.
Christopher stayed next to his chair as the others started to follow the reporter.
“ Aren’t you coming, Casey?” Josiah said.
“ I don’t think so, sir.”
“ Oh, please do, Mr. Casey,” Chesham said, walking back into the kitchen. “My readers will be so curious about you. You’re one of the only survivors of this tragedy.”
Christopher’s mind flashed back to his night on the rigging and the chatter of his companions in the Mayhew kitchen instantly faded to nothing. The sounds of dying men screaming for help and begging for mercy from the churning waters filled his head.
“ It doesn’t seem right is all, sir,” he said, shaking his head in order to force the screams from his mind. “Seeing as how so many died that night.”
“ Please, Mr. Casey,” Stella said. “I’d like for you to be in our picture too.”
Christopher could feel the eyes of Josiah Winslow boring into him. He ignored the glares and smiled at Stella.
“ It's hard to refuse a
Christopher froze at the mention of the ship that had nearly taken his life. “You want to talk about the shipwreck?” he said.
“ That he does,” Mr. Mayhew said. “This is Arthur Chesham from the Boston Globe. He’s been on the island and over in New Bedford learning about the wreck, but he hadn’t been able to get up here to us until now.”
Josiah got to his feet and strode towards the reporter. “Good to meet you, Mr. Chesham,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Dr. Josiah Winslow.”
“ Good to meet you as well, Doctor. I assume you helped treat the survivors?”
“ You assume right, but it was just this one boy here,” Josiah said, pointing at Christopher, who rose from his chair. “We didn’t get anyone else.”
“ There were other survivors?” Christopher asked.
The reporter nodded. “The cutter Dexter picked them up and took them to New Bedford. And one of the lifeboats from the Columbus came ashore on the beach in Lobsterville. Three of the crew members were on it and they’re staying with some folks there. But as far as I know you’re the only survivor here in Gay Head.”
“ There was someone else in the boat with me. When I was rescued.”
“ That man died in the boat, Christopher,” Mr. Mayhew said. “He was dead when we pulled you out.”
Christopher lowered his head. “God help him.”
“ More than 100 dead is what we’re hearing,” Chesham said. “Bodies are still washing up and many have already been taken to the meeting house so their families can claim ‘em.” He glanced at Christopher. “You’re a lucky one, sir.”
“ His name’s Casey,” Josiah said. “Christopher Casey.”
Chesham nodded. “Then you’re a lucky one, Mr. Casey.” The reporter cleared his throat. “Let me explain why I’m here. I met with the Gay Headers who manned the boat and took some photographs of them. I’d like to do the same with you folks.”
“ A picture of us?” Stella asked. “Why?”
Chesham bowed slightly. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am. And you are?”
“ She’s my wife, Stella. And I’d like to know the answer to her question, too.”
“ Of course,” Chesham said. “I’m writing a story about the attempts to rescue survivors when the Columbus went down. I’d like to include your care of Mr. Casey here. Frankly, I think you all deserve to be recognized. My readers will want to know about your efforts.”
Stella pushed a wayward strand of hair behind her ears. “I’ve never had a photograph taken,” she said. “I think it sounds like fun. What do you think, Josiah?”
“ I don’t see any harm in it.”
Chesham smiled. “Great. I’ll need you all to come outside. I know it’s cold but I’d like to have the lighthouse as our background.”
“ I’ll stay here and make you all some fresh coffee for when you get done,” Mrs. Mayhew said.
Christopher stayed next to his chair as the others started to follow the reporter.
“ Aren’t you coming, Casey?” Josiah said.
“ I don’t think so, sir.”
“ Oh, please do, Mr. Casey,” Chesham said, walking back into the kitchen. “My readers will be so curious about you. You’re one of the only survivors of this tragedy.”
Christopher’s mind flashed back to his night on the rigging and the chatter of his companions in the Mayhew kitchen instantly faded to nothing. The sounds of dying men screaming for help and begging for mercy from the churning waters filled his head.
“ It doesn’t seem right is all, sir,” he said, shaking his head in order to force the screams from his mind. “Seeing as how so many died that night.”
“ Please, Mr. Casey,” Stella said. “I’d like for you to be in our picture too.”
Christopher could feel the eyes of Josiah Winslow boring into him. He ignored the glares and smiled at Stella.
“ It's hard to refuse a
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