[Flying Dutchman 01] - Castaways of the Flying Dutchman

As he ate, the blue-eyed boy studied the portrait over the mantelpiece. “Is that your husband’s picture? Anchor Line cap’n, eh?”

Mrs. Winn stared curiously at him. “Not many lads your age would know that the Royal Navy is called the Anchor Line. Are you a seafarer, Ben?”

The boy took a thoughtful sip of lemonade. “Not really. I’ve knocked about on barges and coasters as a galley lad. You hear things about the sea . . . it’s always interested me. I’ve read quite a lot of sea stories, too.”

The boy did not like lying to the old woman, but he knew he could not tell her the truth. Who would believe that he and Ned had sailed on the Flying Dutchman in the year 1620! It would strain any credibility to believe that boy and dog were still alive and well, ageless, in the year 1896.

He caught Mrs. Winn staring at him intensely and turned away as she asked, “I won’t tell anyone, Ben, where are you really from?”

He shrugged. “I think I was born in Denmark, Copenhagen, but I’m not sure. Ned’s from there, we’ve always been together. We’ve lived in quite a few places . . . here and there.”

Mrs. Winn shook her head, perplexed. “I’ll bet you have. Any parents, brothers or sisters?”

“Not that I know of, ma . . . Winnie. I was planning on staying in Chapelvale for a while, as soon as I can find somewhere that allows dogs. I don’t suppose you’d know of a place?”

Mrs. Winn suddenly felt sorry for her strange visitor. He looked so young, so alone. Concern showed in her voice. “You mean that you haven’t anywhere to stay?”

Ben nodded. “I’ve got money. I could pay for lodgings, and I’d see Ned didn’t bother anybody.”

The old lady sat watching the boy. The flat grandfather clock chimes rang out four-thirty. Ben had finished the last morsel of apple pie when his dog came from the kitchen and lay down contentedly, his head resting on the boy’s scuffed boot. Fidgeting and fussing with her apron corner, Winnie looked up to the ornate molded ceiling, then down to her husband’s portrait, finally settling on Ben.

Something in her eyes told him she had reached a decision. Tapping her worn gold wedding ring against the chair arm, Mrs. Winn pursed her lips. “You aren’t in any kind of trouble, are you, my boy?”

Ben sat up straight. “Certainly not, Miz Winn!”

She touched his hand reassuringly. “I believe you. You said you were thinking of staying in Chapelvale for a while. I suppose that means you’ll be moving on one day. Hmm, you’re a puzzle, Ben. There’s more to you and your dog than meets the eye, a lot more.”

She cleared away the plates and glasses, watching the crestfallen lad out of the corner of her eye. “Shall we say that you can stay here for a few days, then? I don’t think those bullies will bother coming ’round to harass me if they see Ned wandering in the garden.”

Ben brightened up immediately. “Oh, thank you, marm! Ned’ll keep them away and I’ll help you ’round the house and do your shopping for you, and I can pay for lodgings, too. I have money, you know. . . .”

Mrs. Winn held up her hand, cutting Ben off frostily. “Please, I’m not rich, but I have enough to get by on with Captain Winn’s pension. I’m not beholden to anybody, and I don’t need you to pay me—I’m allowing you to stay here as a friend.”

Ned passed a thought to his master. “What a nice old lady Winnie is. This place feels just like home, whatever home’s supposed to feel like. Don’t forget to thank her for me. I’ve been trying to talk with that cat, Horatio, but he’s not got much to say for himself. It must be with his having no other creatures to speak to that he’s lost the art of conversation, poor fellow.”

Ben answered the dog’s thoughts. “Well, when you do finally get chatting together, see what you can find out from him. It might give us a clue as to why we’ve been sent here.”

Mrs. Winn tapped Ben’s shoulder. “Are you listening to what I’m saying, young man?”

“What, oh, er, sorry, Miz Winn. I must have dozed off!”

The old lady chuckled. “Hmm, you looked as if you were ready to drop off there, sitting and staring at the dog. I was just saying that you and Ned could take the rear upstairs bedroom. I sleep down here in the small sitting room nowadays. My left leg’s not too good, I need help getting upstairs. Perhaps you’d best go and take a nap. There’s a nice bathroom up there, too.”

Ben rose gratefully. “Thank you, Miz Winn. Thanks for everything from both of us. I think I will take a bath and a nap.”

The old lady took Ben’s hand. “Help me upstairs and I’ll show you your room. I’ll have dinner ready for you both at seven. Come on, Ned, good boy!”

The Labrador looked questioningly at Ben. “I don’t mind the nap, but a bath’s out of the question. It’s not half an hour since I had a good scratch and lick!”

Ben tugged at the black Lab’s tail as they went upstairs. “Miz Winn means me, not you!”