Wake of the Perdido Star Read Free Page B

and become settled.”
    Ethan pulled the horses to a stop and stepped down to the street. He mumbled, “Wait here,” and disappeared into a dry goods store.
    After a few minutes, Jack could tell that his mother was growing impatient at his absence. She called to a teenage girl passing by. “Excuse me, miss. Could you please to give us directions to the India Wharf?”
    She turned, and to Jack, she was beauty itself. He felt his face contort in a stupid grin.
    â€œWell now, it would be Derby Street that you would be wanting,” she answered, in a thick Irish accent and a smile to match the sun. She had a warm laugh, her eyes bespeaking an inner brightness.
    â€œIt’s a bit of a trick from here. But if you mind, you’ll find it. Stay this road to North Street, then you’ll be wantin’ to make your right. Keep the course to Summer Street. It’s here on your left hand you’ll be seeing Norman. The street, that is. Continue straight and it becomes Front. You’ll cross Market and look for Fish. That would be Fish Street on your right side. Fish swims around to the left and becomes Wharf.”
    The girl paused and Jack reddened when he realized his mother had caught his expression. The corners of her mouth curved upward.
    â€œYou’ll pass Norris Wharf and Hodges and a few others and then it becomes Derby,” the girl continued. “All the way toward
the end, when you feel you’ve gone too far, you’ll see Becket’s shipyard—and that would be India.”
    Ethan had come out of the shop and heard most of the directions. Even he, despite his weariness, was taken with her. “Thank you, miss. Much obliged.” He hoisted himself onto the wagon and urged the horses on.
    Jack moved to the back of the wagon. He waved to the girl and mouthed silently, “I’m Jack,” pointing to himself. She stopped and seemed to see him for the first time. Her wide-open eyes knitted her fair brow. At just over six feet and exceptionally strong for seventeen, Jack’s features were impressive. His dark hair hung past his jaw, and his large hazel eyes were offset by a tan complexion. A breeze brushed her burnished hair across emerald eyes. Her hand came up and tossed the hair away. A word popped from her mouth: “Colleen.”
    Jack sat frozen, overwhelmed. She didn’t move as they pulled away. They lost sight of one another briefly when a wagon, then a pedestrian, came between them. Finally, as the wagon turned on North Street, Jack could no longer see her. He leapt from the wagon and ran to the corner. She was gone.
    Suddenly, the enticement of faraway lands seemed less overpowering to Jack; there were obviously things of great interest here in Salem.
    They made their way along Derby Street, passing countless wharves brimming with sailing vessels. Shouts from the many dockworkers and sailors heralded ships being built or unloaded. The streets were filled with bustling people, the smell of cinnamon and coffee strong in the air. Merchants weighed goods and traded openly. Lumber, fresh off a ship, was stocked along the road. The air was heavy with odors of the sea making Jack’s imagination soar. He was mesmerized. These were scents of a world he did not know. Sailors strutted the pier with gaits that convinced him the seas were running beneath their feet. Even the sorriest and densest of these seamen knew firsthand of lands that only brushed the edge of his wildest fancy. It was an amazing place, this Salem.

    The sense of superiority the seamen carried—even in the presence of gentry—intrigued Jack most. They tipped their hats and did the expected around their betters, but clearly they were playing a part. They seemed quietly smug, as if they had a hidden knowledge that could not be found in a gentleman’s reading room.
    They gazed upon the town women with a palpable hunger. Months at sea seemed to make their eyes burn through the