American Dream Page 4

  Awkwardly the boys smiled at each other. Hans held out his hand, and he and John exchanged a strong handshake before turning into their separate homes.

  John paused in the dark hallway to rub his eyes and wait for his heart to stop pounding. He didn’t want Sarah to know how hard it was for him to leave his friends. As he stood by the door, he heard sniffling coming from the parlor.

  Curious, he peered around the partly opened parlor door and saw Sarah sitting in a corner, quietly crying into a handkerchief.

  “What’s wrong, Sarah?” John asked, rushing over to her.

  “I … just said … good-bye … to Gretchen,” she sobbed. “She gave me this as a surprise … so I wouldn’t for … forget her.” Sarah held out the damp handkerchief that Gretchen had embroidered with a tulip and their names.

  “I know how you feel,” John said, sitting down beside his sister and putting an arm across her shoulders.

  “You do?” she asked, amazement crossing her freckled face. “But I thought you were all excited about leaving tomorrow.”

  “I am,” John admitted. “But I just said good-bye to Hans, and I don’t think I’ve ever had to do anything more difficult in my life.”

  John and Sarah sat together in companionable silence for a few minutes until they were ready to finish up the last jobs that needed to be done before their trip. John had never felt quite so close to his sister.

  The next day dawned with good weather, but none of the forty-one people who were about to leave Leiden noticed. Slowly, they filed onto canal boats that would take them about twenty-four miles to Delftshaven. Friends, family members, and Pastor Robinson accompanied them. If some felt like cheering, they hid it well. Most faces were even more sober than usual.

  The Smythes were one of the few families not leaving brothers and sisters, a grandfather, or grandmother behind, but the pain of the coming separation hung around them like a heavy, gray blanket.

  “Come.” Father took Mother’s arm and helped her into a canal boat.

  John roused from his thoughts, nimbly hopped in, and held out a hand to Sarah. She turned her head to glance behind her. “Don’t look back, Sarah. It will make it harder. Remember Leiden and our friends the way they were.”

  Surprise showed in her face. “All right.” Sarah stared straight ahead. So did John, Mother, and Father. Within a few minutes, John put aside the past in favor of the present. The canal boats were nothing compared with the Speedwell or the Mayflower. Eight hours later, they reached Delftshaven, a main shipping port in Holland.

  “There she is!” John’s shrill cry cut through the numbness of misery surrounding everyone. They stared at the Speedwell, ready and waiting by the East India House. From that dock, the Pilgrims would embark the next day on their great adventure. Impressive stone, brick, and iron buildings lined both sides of the canal.

  Seeing the Speedwell did what nothing else had been able to accomplish. Spirits soared. Hope burned brightly once more. The group stayed in a building near the Old Church on the canal their last night in Holland. They ate, drank, laughed, and filled the air with songs of praise and thanksgiving. Even Sarah perked up.

  “It isn’t bad so far,” she admitted to her brother. “Not bad! It’s better than I expected.” He hastily added, “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

  “So am I.” Sarah yawned. “I’m tired, though.” “We all are,” Mother said and shooed them off to their sleeping pallets.

  The next day arrived heavy with river mist. While leaving Leiden had been hard, the final good-byes at Voorhaven Quay were even worse. Great crowds of people had come to see the Pilgrims off. Friends from Amsterdam. The curious. Families. John wished they had all stayed in Leiden!

  Sarah pinched his arm. She pointed to weeping Dorothy Bradford. John swallowed hard. Dorothy clung to her little son, John, as if unable to tear herself away. He was to be left in the care of another family so she could go with her husband, William, on the Speedwell.

  “How can she do it?” Sarah asked.

  John didn’t answer. He hadn’t dreamed leaving would be this hard. Or that mothers would leave their children behind. What of Mistress Collins and Susanna White, both expecting additions to their families? He knew Susanna was taking a cradle for the baby who would be born in the New World. What if a baby came at sea? John squirmed and blushed. That was for the women to consider, not boys.

  Mary Brewster stood close to her two daughters and son who would stay in Holland. Her husband, William, remained in hiding, still wanted by the police for printing illegal literature. Where was he?

  Pastor Robinson led his flock in a final prayer. The emigrants hastily embraced loved ones a last time and boarded the Speedwell. Muskets fired. The ship’s cannons boomed. People waved from deck and land. White sails billowed. The Speedwell, clearly identified as Dutch by the colorful flag on her mast, began to move. The ship followed the wide Maas River into the North Sea. Down the Strait of Dover. Into the English Channel that Mother and Father had mentioned in their stories of leaving England before John and Sarah were born.

  None of the Smythes looked back. They fixed their gaze straight ahead and trusted God. Surely He would see them through whatever hardships or heartache they might face in order to worship Him in a free country.

  Living space on the Speedwell proved to be far worse than expected. Even though the ship had been cleaned, the lower decks were horrible. People crowded together in damp rooms with little air and less light. Cooking could only be done when the sea stayed calm, for fear that sparks in the fire boxes might be carried by the wind and start a fire on the ship. Buckets served as toilets.

  One day Sarah and John stood by the ship’s rail, faces turned westward. “Can we live this way all across the Atlantic Ocean?” Sarah asked John in a troubled voice. “Why aren’t things any better?”

  John shrugged. “The more room passengers take, the less cargo the ship will hold. I wonder if Father would let me sleep on deck with the sailors.”

  “You know he wouldn’t!” Sarah turned pale. “I heard John Carver say the sailors hate us. I don’t know why. You might not be safe on deck.”

  John reluctantly gave up the idea. Sometimes the smell of so many people crowded together in such a small space made him feel sick. It would be so much better to sleep topside where at least the air was fresh. “Sarah, do you want to hear a riddle?”

  “Is it funny?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me quickly, please. There hasn’t been a lot to laugh about since we left Delftshaven.”

  Her quick reply showed John how miserable she was. He felt sorry for her. Boys were allowed more freedom on the ship than girls. It couldn’t be much fun for Sarah. She didn’t like to poke into things and explore as he did, for fear of being caught and getting into trouble.

  “Cheer up,” he told her. “The voyage won’t last forever.”

  “I hope not! What’s the riddle?”

  “The Speedwell doesn’t.”

  “Doesn’t what?” Sarah stared at him blankly.

  “Doesn’t speed well.” He chuckled. “Understand? The ship doesn’t speed well. It lumbers along like a sick cow!”

  Sarah rolled her eyes at her brother’s poor attempt at humor. “It’s not that slow. We’ll be in Southampton tomorrow, and it’s only been a few days.” She turned toward John. A strong breeze filled the sails and ruffled her brown braids.

  “I know, and then we will really, truly get started on our journey.”

  “Hey, you two, get away from that rail!” someone shouted. John and Sarah whirled around. An angry-looking sailor came charging down the deck straight toward them!

  CHAPTER 6

  “I’ll Feed You to the Fishes!”

  The angry sailor came straight at John and Sarah, running down the deck at top speed. “Get away from that rail!” he bellowed again. He added a string of foreign words that sounded like they might be curses.

  Sarah clapped her hands over her ears and
stepped back from the charging man.

  Not John. He stepped in front of Sarah and planted himself with feet apart and hands on his hips. His eyes darkened from clear brown to storm-cloud black. “We aren’t doing anything wrong.”

  “I’ll teach you to talk back to me, you disrespectful whelp!” The sailor raised his brawny arm. He shook a hamlike fist and lunged closer, so close a blast of fishy breath came from between his cracked lips.

  Sarah froze, unable to tear her gaze from the ugly, threatening face. She couldn’t move an inch, even if her life depended on it. From the looks of the sailor, it just might!

  John reached a long arm back and gave her a push. “Run!”

  His order freed her feet. Sobbing, Sarah gathered her long skirts and obeyed. She kept her head turned so she could see John. Not heeding where she was going, the terrified girl crashed into something tall and solid. She let out a shriek and struggled against the strong hands that kept her from falling. “Let me go!”

  “Sarah child, what is it?”

  Sarah looked up into the kindly face of Dr. Samuel Fuller, physician and surgeon, who traveled alone to the New World. She sagged against him. “The sailor!” she gasped. “He’s going to kill John!”

  “I doubt that.” The good doctor sounded amused.

  Sarah twisted in Dr. Fuller’s arms and looked back. She heard the sailor roar, “I’m gonna feed you to the fishes!” Several other grinning sailors had stopped their work to see the fun, yelling catcalls to the man facing John. Fear for her brother overcame Sarah’s terror. She tried to break free from Dr. Fuller’s arms. “I have to help John,” she cried. “Let me go!”

  “He doesn’t need any help,” Dr. Fuller chuckled. “The lout has to catch John before he can hurt him. I don’t think he can. If he does, I will interfere.”

  Only partly reassured, Sarah stopped struggling and watched. The bulky seaman was indeed no match for John’s nimble feet. The boy danced away from danger on legs made strong from running through the streets of Leiden and skating the frozen canals. He led the bellowing sailor a merry chase, up and down the deck, around great stacks of cargo. The lumbering man simply could not catch the boy who ran like lightning.

  A new voice shouted above the noise, “Klaus, what is the meaning of this?” The captain of the Speedwell stepped directly into the charging sailor’s path and glared at him.

  The seaman stumbled to a halt. “Just havin’ a bit o’ fun wi’ the lad.” He touched his hand to his cap in a rough salute, but his face turned clammy white.

  Sarah’s eyes opened wide with astonishment. “Why—”

  Dr. Fuller placed his hand gently over her mouth. “Keep silent, child. No need to make things worse than they already are.”

  The captain looked suspiciously from his laughing crew to John, who had halted a short distance away and stood leaning against the rail. “Is that all it is? Answer me, boy!” His voice cut the tense air like a whip.

  John hesitated. Sarah saw him look at the sailor who had lied then shrug his shoulders, a movement his sister knew could be taken as either yes or no.

  “All right, then. Keep away from my sailors, you hear?”

  “Yes, sir.” A lock of brown hair dangled over John’s forehead. He grinned and said, “That’s what I was trying to do,” in his most innocent voice.

  “Haw haw!” All of the sailors except the one who had started the trouble burst out laughing. Klaus gave John a strange look. It still held anger, but a gleam of respect also shone in his eyes.

  “Get back to work, all of you!” the captain barked.

  “Aye, aye.” The group broke up, still laughing.

  John turned toward Sarah. His eyes sparkled with excitement and looked like twin stars, until he saw the doctor. Then his jaw dropped and he cast a quick glance around them. “What … did you … I didn’t know you were here,” he stuttered.

  “I suspected as much.” Dr. Fuller folded his arms over his stomach. “John, John, what are we going to do with you?”

  All John’s boldness vanished, and he hung his head.

  Sarah slipped a comforting hand in the crook of his elbow. “It wasn’t his fault,” she loyally defended. “All we did was stand by the rail. The sailor started yelling at us, and John told him we weren’t doing anything wrong.”

  “Wouldn’t it have been better to hold your tongue?” Dr. Fuller asked.

  “Beggin’ yer pardon, sir, but that’s just what the lad did,” a low voice said.

  The doctor and the two children turned. John’s pursuer stood just behind them, breathing heavily. Sarah felt the blood drain from her face. He must have sneaked back as soon as the captain left the deck. What will happen now? She could see the same question in John’s and Dr. Fuller’s eyes when she looked at them.

  “The matter is settled,” the doctor exclaimed. “Go about your work.”

  Klaus didn’t budge. “Not afore I thank the lad,” he stubbornly said. His hand shot out and swallowed John’s. “He saved me from the cat-o’-nine-tails by holdin’ his tongue.” He gripped John’s hand with his huge paw, and what passed for a smile twitched across his lips.

  John’s mouth dropped open. Sarah gulped. Dr. Fuller chuckled again. The sailor’s face dropped back into its usual ferocious look. “Keep away from that rail,” he warned John. “You, too.” He glared at Sarah, whose eyes grew wide. “Last voyage a brat fell in the brine durin’ a storm. Who fished him out? Me. Klaus. Nearly drowned. Shoulda let the fishes get him. It woulda served him right fer hangin’ on the rail.” The rescuer scowled and trudged away, leaving the Smythes and the doctor speechless.

  “Who would have thought it?” John marveled when the sailor got out of hearing. “Klaus, of all people, a hero! No wonder he yelled at us. I guess he was trying to scare us so much we’d never go near the ship’s rail again, especially during a storm.”

  “You just never know who may be a real hero,” Dr. Fuller told them. He cocked his head to one side. “I certainly don’t recommend your method, John, but you may just have made yourself a friend.” A shadow crept into his eyes. “Being whipped with a cat-o’-nine-tails is a terrible punishment. Some men die from the beatings.”

  Sarah thought of the cruel whip made of nine knotted cords fastened to a handle and used to keep crew members in line. She shivered. “No wonder Klaus was glad John didn’t tell on him!”

  John just looked thoughtful, but Dr. Fuller added, “Evidently somewhere beneath that crusty, bluffing, don’t-care attitude lies a tender heart. Otherwise Klaus wouldn’t have risked his own life by diving into a stormy ocean to save a child.”

  “It’s hard to believe such a mean-looking person could do a good thing,” protested Sarah.

  “We cannot judge what is in a man’s heart by what is on his face,” Dr. Fuller said. “Remember what the Lord told Samuel about judging by what we see? He told Samuel, ‘The Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.’ “

  John and Sarah kept their distance from the crew, just as the captain ordered. But every time they saw Klaus, they smiled at him.

  Klaus either ignored them or grunted. He continued to scowl. He bellowed if he thought they were getting too close to the rail. Yet never again did Klaus double his fist and shake it at them. Neither did he challenge John to a footrace, as a few of the others did! Word sped through the ship that young John Smythe could outrun all of the boys and most of the men aboard.

  When the Speedwell sailed into Southampton and dropped anchor next to the Mayflower, the larger ship loomed over her like a giant above a child. The Mayflower had come a week earlier with the sixty-one London Strangers who would sail on her to the New World. The two groups met at the West Quay, eager to meet their fellow travelers.

  John and Sarah’s parents and many other adults simply stood and looked. Twelve long years had passed since they had stood on English soil. The emotion of the moment would stay with them a long time.

&nb
sp; “Look at the holes in the fortress wall,” John said.

  Sarah was more interested in the comfortable cottages up and down the streets of Southampton. If only King James would allow her family freedom to worship in their own way, they could stay in England. How wonderful it would be to live right in one of the neat cottages in Southampton instead of being forced to sail thousands of miles to a new land.

  “Come on, Sarah.” John tugged at her hand. “Father says we may talk with the children.” He pointed at a group running and calling to one another between the many crates and trunks piled on the dock.

  “Are you sure it’s all right?” She glanced at her parents and their friends, then back to the Strangers. What a difference! Sarah’s people dressed plainly. The men wore tall, broad-brimmed hats, heavy clothing, warm stockings, and sturdy leather shoes. Women dressed in dark cloaks with hoods that tied under the chin over plain dresses with white collars and cuffs.

  Not so the Strangers! Sarah gasped at the rainbow-bright colors, the feathers and trimmings and buttons and lace on their clothing. One young lady in particular dazzled Sarah. Sweet-faced and stylish, Priscilla Mullins smiled at the children from her place next to her shopkeeper father, William, her mother, and her brother, Joseph. Sarah felt glad they would be sailing on the Mayflower.

  She also liked the large Hopkins family who came to greet her parents.

  “I tried to get to America once before,” Stephen Hopkins boomed. “The ship wrecked in the Bermudas. This time we’ll have better luck. This is my wife, Elizabeth.” The woman, obviously expecting a child, smiled at them. So did the Hopkins children: Giles, Constanta, and Damaris.

  A young man named John Alden joined the group. Sarah liked his pleasant face and good manners. She laughed with the others when he confessed, “I’ve been working here in Southampton as a cooper, making tubs and casks. I’ve heard so much about this exciting voyage, I just signed up for a year with the company and will be sailing to America.” John Alden glanced at pretty Priscilla Mullins, who blushed and looked down. Sarah thought it very romantic.