Boon Island - Kenneth Roberts [124]
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"I'd like to speak to God," Neal said. "I'd like to speak about my father. God, I'd like to have my father told that I know what he did for us. You must know what he did, God, and I hope you won't let it be wasted."
"What do you mean by that, Neal?" the captain asked.
"God knows," Neal said.
After a time the captain spoke again, conversationally, as if God were in the tent with us. "God," he said, "you've been kind to us, though some might think you haven't been. By giving us ice to eat, you've saved us from the most horrible of all deaths: you've given us work to do, so that we've preserved our sanity: you saved us from disaster when you overturned the boat: you let the sea wash up the cordage from which we made clothing and shelter: you gave us seaweed to eat: you gave us Swede Butler to strengthen our courage ..."
Langman spoke up. "Don't forget the seagull."
"Yes, God; the seagull," Captain Dean said. "The seagull helped us. All things considered, God, we've done as well with these blessings as any equal number of men could be expected to do, and all we ask, God, is that you don't withdraw your favor from us."
"Aren't you going to ask for a ship to take us off?" Langman demanded. "Why don't you ask him to send the seagulls back? There hasn't been one sighted since I killed mine!"
"Ask for fire!" White demanded.
The captain shook his head. "Ask for them yourselves if you think it'll do any good," he said. "If God feels we should be helped, I think he ought to be allowed to work it out in his own way. I don't feel qualified to tell God what to do or how to do it. I wouldn't feel justified in
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asking him for more seagulls. He probably had a good reason for sending 'em away from the island.''
I couldn't improve on what the captain had said, and the others were silent as well; but I think we all felt better because of Neal's and the captain's talks with God.
For the first time I felt about God as I'd so often felt about my father: felt that he'd do anything reasonable I asked him to do, and that if he should refuse, he'd only do so for my own good.
There were lines of light showing around the edges of the tent-flap, so I went out with the captain to help him with the meat.
Neal followed me. He didn't even look toward Cape Neddick or York.
"Neal," the captain said, "I want you to find another hole in the rock where we can store part of this meat. I want you to attend to moving half of it, and I don't want to know where you put it. I don't want anyone to know: not even Miles."
Neal nodded and moved away.
Captain Dean watched him go, then turned to me. "Was it three days ago, Miles," he asked, "or four days ago that Swede and Hallion put off? I forget. Every day seems a year long."
"It was Wednesday," I said.
"Miles," he said slowly, "I think Neal knows his father's gone."
"I know he does," I said. "I know it, too, and so do you."
"Yes," Captain Dean said, "but he knows more than we do."
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"Yes," I said, "I know that he thinks he knows, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's right. I hope he isn't."
When the captain didn't answer, I asked him what he meant by asking Neal to find another hole in the rock.
"I don't quite know," the captain said. "I think this meat has made some of the men a little crazy. Have you noticed Saver's and Graystock's eyes when I pass around the meat?"
I said I hadn't.
"Well," Captain Dean said, "I had a ferret when I was a boy. I'd turn him loose in the stables, and he'd kill rats. When he jumped on a rat, his eyes looked red. I don't think they were red, but that's how they looked. That's how Saver's and Graystock's eyes look when they get their meat. If that's how they feel about it, they might crawl out of the tent any night. Being the sort of people they are, they wouldn't hesitate to steal what rightly belongs to all the rest of us, and they haven't enough brains between