“My heart did not know it’s true deepness before I met you,” he said, holding her naked breast. Their affection for each other had actually startled him, when he realized how simple and pure it was, but also when he recognized the profundity of that weightlessness.
She was exuberant when she heard this, for she had spared herself no sacrifice in order to take care of him and increase his gladness. Although she tried to be discreet, she knew it had already cost her her reputation, for everyone spoke of her as a dishonored woman. If love be dishonor, though, she was happy to be infamous, as they shared in that room on Catherine Street an ecstasy whose heat consumed all other fuel.
“Will you stay with me?” she asked him again.
“Yes,” he said. “I will.”
“How long?” she begged, for she wanted him to be clear about what she offered him and what she needed.
“As long as can be told on all the clocks in heaven,” he answered. He fell back into her arms after that, until he began to forget about all else outside that room.
“And I will always be devoted to you,” she promised. “If you left me now I know I could not live.”
He was possessed then by her touch as she was by his words, and the two of them fell upon each other in lovemaking.
They were still awake late into that night, long after most of the city had already retired and was dreaming. Under the twilight that ebbed through the windows, they held each other still.
“Do you know what would please me more than anything else?” she asked him sleepily, as he held her about the waist.
“No, but I want to know nothing more.”
“I cannot ask it.”
“Tell me.”
“It is to have a house and children with you,” she said, telling him next how tired she was of living like a fugitive in their rented room, and promising how much happier she could make him if only they had a home of their own to be in together.
Caleum did not need to think about it very long before telling her that he would find her a house where they could be together. For he also missed having a home and knew that making one with her would bring him no end of pleasure. “I will buy you a house,” he promised.
He did not know about children, but he knew that after taking up with him for so long it would be impossible for her to go back to her people without disgrace, and he did not wish to see that ever happen to her — or that she should go wanting for anything, or beg favor of anyone else, even if he could not make her his wife. His honor required at least this much. He would give her a house.
He did not think then what it would mean for his intention of returning to his own home, as that place had grown very distant from his mind’s eye. He only thought about Christmas with Elissa, and what he should do for an income if he stayed on in that city — as his purse was not as full as it used to be and would be taxed very definitely by the purchase of a home.
five
He searched the city continuously during the weeks leading up to the holiday, until he found a place he thought would be suitable for the two of them. It was a respectable merchant’s house though not grand, built in the Dutch manner with a little store on the bottom floor and living quarters above it. When he presented it to her Christmas morning, she was overjoyed as she went through the rooms, planning out in her mind the function each would serve and how best to make them happy there.
When they moved in, he found everything in the house had been arranged around his needs and satisfaction, so that he never had to think of anything disagreeable while he was there and, in fact, marveled at how constantly pleasant his new house was and how untroubled he felt in its rooms.
For income, Caleum Merian set up a small concern in the shop on the first floor, selling wares that were much coveted but difficult to come by during the war. It proved very popular with the people of that city, as it was filled with delicacies, and on weekends he would share with Elissa those things he had hoarded for the two of them alone. Having scoured the wharfs for smuggled goods, there might be fine Irish lace or hats in the latest fashion from France, one of which he might present to her, reveling in the happiness it brought her. He also received things such as sets of silver from colonists whose means were stretched by the occupation, or even items in gold from the better families on the island, which always reached him by way of intermediaries, and he was always understanding and discreet.
He found himself becoming a true citizen of that town as his business grew, until he thought very little of wanting to be anywhere else in his life again. He was near thirty years old and found the new rhythm of his days quite agreeable, and the material pleasures of this life were such as he had not known existed before. Something had changed within him, but, however different he had become, he was at peace from his former self. Dear Elissa, who did not know him before, embraced the man he was instead of remarking on the changes that had taken place, as any from his old life surely would have. This was a liberation for him, and he always felt free with her to say whatever he thought and do as he wanted, with no burdens of any other sort to support.
Elissa was finally confident in their home together, and although her own family worried for her that she was not married but living with a man who was, they accepted it as a better situation than her being merely some passing soldier’s fancy. To her, though, there was no difference than if they had exchanged vows in church, because, she thought, marriage is sanctified first in the heart above all other places.
When he stopped speaking of his farm and his children, she knew he was with her completely and intended to remain. No one could fault her that another woman had gotten to him first, but the two of them were together now and that was also meant to be. Nor could anyone reproach her treatment of him, it being such as any man would desire and covet in life.
All of this fortunate domestic routine was at last interrupted one day when an ancient sailor came into Caleum’s shop with a set of finest china, which he offered for sale. As Caleum examined the wares, his customer looked at the name stenciled on the glass window and again at Caleum behind his counter.
“Strange name, Merian,” he said casually. “I once knew a fellow called that. Aye, I knew his entire family.”
“I would comment on your name too, friend,” Caleum remarked coolly, “but I do not know ye, so keep my mind and tongue to myself.”
“The son would have been around your age,” the stranger continued on, undaunted by the rebuke. “They lived near the quays in Providence, but were originally from a place called Stonehouses it was that I did visit on a journey once.”
“I will give ten shillings for the china,” Caleum offered, ignoring the rest the old man said and walking to his strongbox to get the money. As he went across the room, the sound of his wooden leg striking the floor resonated through the shop and was the only thing that could be heard, as the other man watched him silently. A curious thing about his leg: Either because of it or his growing status in the commercial life of the city, whenever men looked on it, even white men, they deferred to him almost instinctually. If it was a man of very high station, he would always make a little nod of the head, as if wishing to bow but being forbidden that ritual due to caste. In time Caleum had grown used to all this, until he seemed indifferent to anyone else’s regard entirely, and they in turn lent him wide berth. Not so the stranger, who let the money remain on the counter and resumed speaking, looking Caleum directly in the eye and not allowing him respite or quarter from his old gaze.