Turning to the inside pages he saw that the temperance movement was gaining momentum and insisting that the army and navy put the movement’s clergy in regiments and aboard ships to warn the men in uniform about the evils of spirits and lack of Christian faith. They further demanded that all sales of spirits and ales be banned anywhere near the “lonely boys far from home” to preserve their souls against corruption. Wake wearily wondered if the temperance leaders had ever observed the corrupting influence of seeing one’s friends mutilated by the modern weaponry used by both sides in the war. Alcohol seemed a pretty tame malady to Wake, compared to the sights soldiers and sailors had imprinted in their minds.
The news served to make him even more tired as he sat there waiting. He put the paper down on the table and stared at the ceiling, watching a banana spider come in from outside around the top of a window. Bigger than any spider he had ever seen in New England, this one was slowly making his way down the wall toward an obnoxious lieutenant commander who was telling all who would listen that his steamer was stopping in port to repair a boiler, while enroute to Mobile to serve the famous Admiral Farragut and fight the toughest of the Rebs at Fort Morgan on Mobile Bay. Wake glanced over again and saw that several other officers were watching the same spider advance down toward Farragut’s future officer. The man talked and they all listened, but with their eyes focused past the man’s shoulder on the black and yellow arachnid, now only inches from the hair of the soon-to-be naval hero. Even the anticipation of the officer’s reaction when the spider inevitably jumped on him failed to rouse Wake, whose eyelids grew heavier as his breathing became more measured. He was so tired he didn’t care about the lieutenant commander or the prowling banana spider. He yawned and shifted in the chair.
He was just starting to doze off with his head leaning back against the wall when he felt a hand tugging at his shoulder and heard a voice quietly call to him. He sat up with a start to see a young embarrassed yeoman standing directly in front of him and some of the other officers in the room attempting to stifle their laughter. A few of the senior ones had looks of disdain, chagrined that a junior officer was being summoned before them. The yeoman led him into the outer office of the admiral’s personal clerk and announced his presence to the inner room beyond.
“Captain Wake of the schooner St. James, sir.”
Just then a flood of curses came echoing from the anteroom, where the pontificating lieutenant commander could be seen through the doorway hopping around, hitting himself in the head and screaming about Key West and its “damnable vermin” that attacked men while they sat in an office. The yeoman, a slightly built lad of maybe eighteen, cast an odd look at Wake, suppressed a smile, and disappeared quickly out of the admiral’s office, closing the door behind him.
Wake turned from facing the door and waited for his presence to be acknowledged by Commander Morris and Admiral Loethen, both of whom stood at the window looking out on the harbor. Morris was pointing something out to the admiral, who was in his shirtsleeves. Loethen glanced up upon hearing the officer’s antics in the other room, frowned and shook his head woefully, replying something to the commander. Neither man acknowledged Wake’s arrival and continued speaking in low tones.
Wake suddenly had the whimsical but illogical thought that the spider was kept there for amusement by the yeomen and that the admiral and commander had seen and heard the trick and subsequent hysterics before. He caught himself smiling, straightened up, and returned his attention to the two men who controlled his future. When they finished their conversation both turned toward Wake. The admiral spoke first.
“Ah yes, . . .Wake of the St. James. How good of you to come ashore so soon.”
Morris nodded to Wake and motioned toward a chair at the chart table. “Have a seat, Lieutenant Wake. We have something to discuss.”
Sitting at the offered chair by the chart table, Wake noticed on top of the pile of charts was an army map of upper Florida, showing both east and west coasts. There were blue lines coming inland from Jacksonville in the east and from the Timucuahatchee River on a bend of the Gulf coast in the west. The blue at that location didn’t extend very far. The one from the east didn’t either. Red lines were across the paths of both of them.
Morris saw Wake perusing the map. “They haven’t gone very far, have they Wake?”
“No, Commander, it appears that they haven’t.”
Loethen walked
