Project:Current events/Gents and Ladies/Where Oh Where was Miss Melanie

Where oh Where was Miss Melanie – Chapter 4

^^^^^^^^^^^^A few evenings ago^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Oooof!” Miss Melanie spluttered. She had to keep scrabbling with the rolling barrel that was her lifesaver. It had been most inopportune that the huge wave had grabbed and hauled her overboard, especially since that aggravating Captain Belzoni had warned her against being up on deck. Why did she not listen to him?

The sea water was at least warm. No risk of hypothermia. That was the only good thing as she bobbed up and down. Otherwise the sea was doing its best to smash her down into its depths. She closed her eyes and held her breath as another wave rushed over her.

Were there the sharp-toothed sharks in this water? Did this Egyptian sea contain other salt-water, carnivorous predators? How much salt water could one ingest before it made one’s stomach sick? Could salt water ingestion kill a person? She thought that was so.

The barrel she was holding on to precariously bumped into another wooden something. She could tell by the sound of the thud. If she could just move around and see what it was. Her dress was a heavyweight that was not aiding her actions to survive. It would have to go. Her undergarments were lighter and would still protect her modesty. The beautiful blue dress floated up and down on the waves until it was out of sight. Yes, that made it easier to keep her head above water.

She was inching around the barrel. Some pieces of wood with rope attached! How fortuitous! With one hand she clung to the end of the barrel while the other hand quickly reached over to snag the floating end of the rope. Maneuvering carefully, she pulled the rope up over the barrel and deliberately dove under it and back up the other side. A clonk on the left side of her forehead pained her. She tied the rope tight to the other ends of the broken wood. This little raft was easier to hang onto.

Her fingers assessed the small lump on her head. No blood. Good. Carnivorous fish could be drawn by the blood. Only a small lump and she was sure that there was no concussive results to her head.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^Ashore^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Sleep and nutrition. Those were paramount in her waterlogged condition.

Melanie sat up and wrung her long crinkly, faintly reddish hair out. Technically she was a brunette but the shade was a little dark red. My was she fatigued! And famished! She raised the long leather strap above and over head. Unfastening the tight loops of her satchel she perused the interior. Yes! Barely any moisture had penetrated inside.

Hungrily the slight girl unwrapped the sheep jerky and chewed slowly. She made a face at its saltiness. If she had not swallowed the sea water it would have tasted scrumptious. Do not eat too quickly, she told herself. She was sprawled out under the shade of a palm tree. The grass felt cool under her bare arms and feet. Fresh water. She was parched.

What was that?! Melanie sat up and looked around carefully. Maybe it was a creature stirring. But under this hot sun? When the rustling did not return she laid back down…and went fast asleep.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^On the shore by the Bella Dama, diary in her lap^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The fragrance of the purple, mauve, pink and yellow flowers wafted over to her on the light breeze. The pencil in her hand hovered above the half written page in her diary while her mind’s eye recalled the scene after waking from her deep slumber that first day of reaching the shore. She could have so easily drowned and never made it to land. During the lull in caring for the sailors Melanie had walked off the ship to a nice flowered spot in the shade.

“The fates will be with you in this new land, Mistress Melanie,” Priest Nakhte had told her one morning as she was gazing at the dawning sky with all its pastel colors above the blue water. The trip on the ship had been enjoyable…until the storm.

Curious, the botanist considered, that the elderly man was blind but still could move around as if not. She knew the phenomenon existed. That of one blind in the eye but was able to ‘see’ their environment by making intermittent clicking noises. They said it gave them a ‘picture’ of their surroundings.

She tapped the erasing end of the pencil against her lips. At the time, the elderly gentleman’s prophesy seemed superfluous, but it was fortunate that she had his words to give her hope of surviving while floundering. But what of the religious man? What had fate doled him? Was he lying motionless in the bosom of the sea? Tears were wiped out of her eyes before dropping on the page. She had been fond of the little wise man.

‘After waking I decided that good water was next in importance so I headed east looking for an oasis. I soon found one and drank my full. I shimmied up a coconut tree and whacked at the nuts until they fell. I had the fortune once of tasting the meat and milk inside and knew they would afford me nutrition. Date trees gave me more nourishment and they would keep well.’ Melanie wrote in her diary.

‘And the herbs! Totally worth the hazardous trip! One must expect dangers to come with discoveries. I continued on moving east and setting camp, gathering available food stuffs and herbs. I carefully preserved each of the new herbs between waxed sheets. I have tried making teas of some to see whether they were noxious, poisonous or good for the body.’ She flipped back through previous pages where she had made detailed drawings and notes. She was also sketching in more of her surroundings on a map.

‘Eventually I decided to turn south. It just felt the correct thing to do. I generally trust my intuition. I finally arrived at this lovely area,’ she continued writing on the page. ‘I did run into a local person. As embarrassed as I was in my petticoat I realized that this Egyptian lady knew not whether it was my normal garb. She seemed infatuated with my clothing so I made a trade of clothes. She gave me some preserved fish and lamb also.’ Again, Nakhte’s prophecy came to mind. It was most fortunate that she had met with a lady and not a strange gent. Males were not to be trusted! And what would a lady like herself have done if she was attacked with evil intent? She shuddered.

She also remembered having the feeling that someone had been following her. It had made her uneasy but nothing untoward had happened.

‘In the next two weeks I met more Egyptians who were most helpful to me to set up my homesite in the south of a region named Lake of Reeds. In trade for the precious flower bulbs I had carried here they built greenhouses and equipment for me. How very kind!’ She continued to jot down. She knew a few had been disappointed with only silly flowers but they had nevertheless completed the trade.

‘The gentleman officer, Vincenzo, sent a few men to me just a few days ago and pleaded for my help. I am back at the Bella Dama temporarily. I am pleased to say that my judgement about some of the herbs (and after querying a few of the locals) is proving to be good medicine for these ill sailors. When I asked the Egyptians to help me gather herbs for my studies they were most eager. But my supplies of them are running low and the sailors are still feeling piqued.’ Melanie went on to describe the symptoms of the illness and what she found effective.

It seemed that something similar to this plague had happened to the natives back generations ago. They had no doubt built up immunity to it but there would be silent carriers. The bane of traveling to new lands.

So intent into her thoughts, the young botanist had not noticed a tall figure behind her. She jumped and dropped her pencil when he spoke!

“Miss Melanie, I came to thank you,” Allesandri said awkwardly. He was not used to being in debt to another, but he was thankful that the girl had come on the voyage now. “My men are on the mend. Is that my imagination or is that the truth?”

She quickly picked up her pencil and closed her diary discreetly then stood up when the handsome officer held out his hand to help her. Melanie dusted off her skirt and then looked into his brown eyes.

“You are correct, Sir,” she told him and nodded her head curtly to emphasize the fact. “But I am worried that we are running out of the most helpful herbs.”

“So Chef Carmello’s lamb stew is not the main reason for their mending in your opinion? And I will permit you to call me Allesandri. By the way, you never have told me your sire’s name.” the captain asked.

“My last name is Lafitte. My father was a sailor in his own right. He was not home often. And then…” Melanie lowered her eyes and paused, “….then we did not see him again.” She continued on, “Mister Carmello is a wonderful cook! His stew of vegetables and sheep meat lends vigor to your men, Sir…Allesandri.”

She dropped her eyes again and the apple of her cheeks colored a pleasing shade of cherry, the captain noticed. He put a consoling hand on her shoulder without thinking.

“I also lost my father. He never came home after what was his last jaunt…to this land. It was the main reason I journeyed here. I found copies of his maps and scribblings about valuable resources here,” the anger within was not hidden well when Melanie looked up at his handsome, somber face. He was looking into the distance.

“Your mother? Was she as forlorn as mine at the loss?” she queried gently. She knew men were not fond of speaking about touchy subjects so she was hesitant in asking too much.

He let his hand drop and clasped them behind his back, taking a superior’s stance to hide the strong feelings inside. “Yes…she was.” This was the time, he thought. It was pushing inside of him, wanting to burst out.

Keeping calm in his voice he added, “It was very hard on her. Because she was so ill.” His eyebrows furrowed and he continued to look in the distance at nothing in particular.

They stood in shared silence for a bit. “Tell me of your mother’s symptoms,” the botanist asked. Melanie was sensitive enough to know that the captain was too proud to ask the favor of her help again.

Allesandri went on to describe the wan complexion, the fatigue, the growing thinness and other particulars of his mother’s condition.

Vincenzo leaned lazily against the railing of the ship and watched curiously as his friend had walked over to the French girl. ‘To be a little mouse and hear this conversation,’ he wished.

He was exhausted. Petroni and Carmello were beyond tired. So far they and the captain had not caught the disease. He smiled in amusement as the girl moved closer to Allesandri. Obviously they were going deeper into a personal discussion. It was good for the both of them.

“Petroni git yer lazy ass down to the galley and bring up more stew and Miss Melanie’s teas!” Carmello bellowed. “Yessir!” came the surly reply back but the he hustled off the deck pretty fast.

Vincenzo took a deep breath. Back to another round of playing nurse.

A little man in a robe peered out from underneath is cowled head as he stood on the top of hill. Before leaving he wanted to make sure that all was going well with the sailing men. He smiled thinking of Vincenzo’s surprise that he had known right where Mistress Melanie was to be found. It had been he that had followed her and set up markers pointing the direction in which she was moving.

Nakhte turned, leaned against his staff and started walking. It was time to go home and greet his fellow priests in Memphis. He had to be careful and hope word did not get to the Pharaoh that he had returned.