Louisa was approaching the table with the glasses of rum Wake requested, but Rork half stood and waved her away gruffly. Frowning, he sat back down and eyed his captain. His tone was approaching that which he used at sea on deck with an ignorant new seaman.
“Sweet Jesus, Captain. What, in the name of Saint Michael, do you have boiling in that steam engine mind of yours? I may be more than a wee bit drunk right now, but even so I’ve more sense than to even think about marrying the daughter of a well-known Reb in a town where the army hates me and her family hates me. Have you taken leave of your senses, Lieutenant Peter Wake, of the United blessed States Navy?”
Wake met Rork’s stare.
“I just might have, Sean Rork. I just might have. But I know what I must do, and I will do it and that’s that. Now, do you know a clergyman that would do this for me or not?”
“Captain, the Catholic priests at St. Mary’s won’t because you’re not of our beloved faith. That heretic Episcopalian priest is pro-Union—he’s got ’em sayin’ prayers there regular for the president and congress—but in his eyes the lady’s a Reb, an’ that’ll bugger that. The old Baptist and Methodist preacher men won’t because you’re a Yankee. There’s only one preacher that might, though I’m not sure his ceremony would be recognized as legal. And believe me, sir, it would be a highly irregular image of a wedding.”
Rork’s visage changed from grim to whimsical as he said this, intriguing Wake. He goaded the bosun on. “Out with it, Rork. What clergyman are you thinking of?”
The whimsy turned into laughter. “Why Captain, sir. A Bahamian preacher. A black African Baptist preacher man. They like the Yankees and would probably be glad splice you two in the eyes of the Lord.”
Wake sat in silence and thought it over. An African Baptist wedding. Yes, why not? The important thing was the commitment, not the scenery. If it was the only way, then so be it.
Rork waved Louisa over to the table with the rum. She placed three chipped glasses filled with amber liquid in front of the two men and sat down on Rork’s lap, stroking his head and trying to tickle his side. Rork’s voice grew louder as he ignored the girl on his lap and slapped the table for emphasis.
“Captain, this is surely not a decision to make without the benefit of some rum to facilitate the mind, sir. Drink it down an’ have another. My honor to purchase it. It’s not every day I see a man toss a pile o’ dung at a whole town, the United States Navy, an’ a certain twit of a colonel, all at once. A brave sight it will make, Captain. A truly brave sight indeed!”
Wake took the offered glass and downed it in one gulp as the second one was placed in his other hand. He stood up and drank that one too, slamming the glass down on the table. He and Rork looked at each other, grins spreading over their faces.
“Rork, you’ll not make me too drunk to stand. I know your ways by this time, Bosun. Now, I don’t have too much time and I need your help. Go find the Bahamas preacher man and ask him to marry Linda and me with the words from the Lord. Ask him when and where, but it must be tonight, by sunset at half past eight. I’ve got three days of liberty ashore and I want every moment I can with Linda as my wife. I’ll meet you back here at five. And I want the honor of having you be my best man. Can I count on you now like I do when there’s death in the air? Yes or no, man?”
Rork caught the excitement in his lieutenant’s voice and stood next to Wake, fairly shouting his answer. “By God, yes sir! I say yes to the man in love. We will make this happen and make it happen tonight! Come on, Louisa, there’s no time for lollygaggin’ in this here pub, we’ve got a wedding to make happen.”
With that blast of words Rork slammed his own glass down on the table, sprinkled some coins on the scarred wood surface, and marched out of the room with a giggling Louisa in tow. Wake, still standing there, laughed at the scene just unfolded before him and then made his own way out as the few old salts sitting around in the darkness cheered him on. They had heard every word and thought it all great fun to see young hopeless fools trying the impossible.
***
The hibiscus bushes were thick with bright red flowers behind the house on Whitehead Street where Linda lived with her uncle. Wake managed to edge his way through them and stand beside some fragrant yellow frangipani as he threw a small shell from the alley pathway up to the window of her room. No response came from the interior and he tried again, whispering her name. She usually worked in the shop over by Duval Street until this time of afternoon, when many of the shops would close before the daily rains.
A third tossed shell got a response from a confused Linda, who stood in the window and glanced around outside before locating Wake in the far corner of the backyard. The smile that transformed her face warmed Wake’s heart and he motioned for her to come out into the back yard to the cooking shed.
Wearing a red and white gingham dress, having just arrived home from the shop, Linda looked like some sort of dream girl as she walked quickly across the yard. Wake moved into the darkness of the cooking shed and took her into his arms
