Warning: m/f implied
Notes: The Forbidden City is Peking, now known as Beijing. The first Open Door Note, authored by John Hay, was written in 1899, and gave foreign powers equal trading rights to China. Curses provided by http://www.tower.org/insult/insult.html . The Wanderer was the original name of Captain Englehorn's ship. Pogy bait is an immature or inexperienced sailor.
Stick With Me, Kid Part 10
Charley's POV
The stars were read on the day I was born, and their alignment was unusual, but even the priests could not have foretold the path my life would take.
I came from a line of warriors, men who were bodyguards to emperors and empresses, and women who were without peer in the art of seduction. They were also without peer in the art of espionage, and were given as gifts to unwary ambassadors of foreign lands, who thought merely that they were gaining a lovely addition to their bedchamber.
As a child growing up in the Forbidden City, I was taught to do many things. I could kill a man with a single blow from my hand, or stave in his chest with my foot. I could prepare a potion that would see him dead painlessly in seconds, or in excruciating agony that would last for hours. I could shoot out his eye at one thousand paces, and I could skin him before he even realized that I had my knife out.
I also learned to use my body as a lure, to ensnare men as well as women.
After the United States espoused the Open Door Policy, it became necessary for the Empress and her council to learn the intentions of that country toward our enemy, Japan.
It was seen how Gregory Merriman, the undersecretary to the Ambassador of the United States, could never take his eyes from me whenever I was present, and he was summoned to a private audience. He was pleased and flattered, but also confused. The topics of conversation ranged over many things, but not once politics.
At a hidden signal, I entered the chamber, dressed in transparent silk trousers and tunic the color of aquamarines. The undersecretary's eyes grew hungry, and he licked his lips.
"This is Chow Chi. We would gift him to you."
He never asked why. He'd flushed and backed away. "Oh, no! No, I couldn't accept a boy."
"You would refuse a gift from the Empress?"
The tension was tangible, and the American became as pale as he had been flushed.
"Please, you don't understand!"
"He is quite skilled, I assure you." A snap of the fingers, and I was on my knees before the foreign devil.
"No! What are you..."
We were suddenly alone in the chamber. I had his prick out and teased to hardness, and began to work it with my mouth.
"Oh!"
His objections vanished, and upon his return to America, I was with him. If any asked, they were told I was his houseboy, although in truth I did nothing that a houseboy would actually do.
His wife had chosen not to accompany him on that mission. I learned over the course of time that she had remained behind to garner support for him in his anticipated rise to power in their government.
"A gift, Alyce! From the Empress Tz'u Hsi!" He tried nervously to explain my presence. "You will be the first in the Capital to have your very own Chinese houseboy, my dear. Only think how jealous your friends will be!"
Her lip had curled. "What do we need with a slant-eyed, yellow-skinned heathen in the house?" she'd demanded shrewishly. I had stepped out from behind her husband, and her objections ceased as she took in my appearance. Pleased by my face, in spite of my slanted eyes, and figure, she changed her tune. "Very well, Gregory. Perhaps we can find a place for him in our household."
During the day, I was in her bed, and during the night I was in her husband's, although neither appeared aware of the other's interest. When left to my own devices, I took photographic pictures of letters and memos, which I was able to find no matter where he imagined he had successfully hidden them, and delivered them to the Chinese Consulate.
And then it fell down around my ears, not because I was discovered with sensitive documents in my possession, but because she returned early from a function and found me in her husband's bed, with my prick in her husband's ass. Her husband cried rape, and of course she believed him.
I did not attempt to escape; that would have caused a serious loss of face for my country and was not to be permitted.
Those at the Chinese Consulate were most apologetic and offered to accept the return of my miserable person. They would punish me in a suitable manner to atone for my dishonorable actions.
Alyce Merriman's eyes glittered, and she refused. "I will have him dealt with myself."
Gregory told me of this when he sneaked down to the damp, moldy room in the cellar where I was being held. "I wish there was something I could do! I'm sorry, Chow. I'm so sorry." He had never realized that in China the surname was placed first. I held myself stiffly as he wept on my shoulder. After a short while he released me and returned to the upper floors.
And after that, there was no time to escape.
I was subdued before I could strike out, bound and taken from that room to the stable at the rear of the property. She watched in pleasure as I was methodically beaten with fists and knotted ropes. Gregory watched as well, hunched against the doorway, his face pale and sick.
"There is a house in New York City's Chinatown, Chow," the woman exulted. "The employees all have a lamentable desire for opium. I'm sending you there. These men will accompany you."
I ignored the two men, coarse and sadistic as they were. I would bide my time, deal with them, and escape on my own.
As for where she intended to send me, I knew of places like that; there was a street in the Forbidden City, although no one avowed knowledge of it, where the bawds were fed opium until they were addicted in spite of themselves, and would do whatever was asked of them, would beg to have it done to them, so long as the drug was not withheld. I fought to conceal my shudder.
Alyce Merriman lifted my chin, her hatred a living thing. "The men will be lined up down the street for a chance at you. One after another, you will be made to service them! That is what you have to look forward to, Chow Chi, for however long your pitiful life lasts!"
She gave a nod. My queue was shorn off. To add insult to injury, it was saturated with ether and shoved over my nose and mouth. Her laughter followed me down into darkness.
I was unsure how long it was before I regained my senses. I knew I was in some sort of horse-drawn conveyance. The carriage rocked from side to side, making me nauseous. Ether had dampened the collar of my tunic, and the odor wafted up to fill my nostrils. From the top of my head to the soles of my feet I was a mass of unrelieved pain. Ribs were bruised, and I struggled to keep my breaths shallow. The area above my kidneys hurt, and I knew that when I relieved myself, there would be blood in my water for some time.
My arms were bound behind my back, and my shoulders felt as if they were on the verge of dislocating, but my legs had been freed, and one of the men in the vehicle with me was spreading them apart. "I always wanted to have me a taste o' yellow meat," he gloated, stroking cruel fingers over my privates.
"Ya better watch it, Bert!" The warning was edgy and anxious. "If ya mark 'is face..."
"It ain't 'is face I'm innerested in." There was a vicious laugh and a painful squeeze to my balls. "The highfalutin bitch ain't gotta know! Ya know what she got planned for 'im. I'll just get in there first! In there first, get it? Laugh, Sammy! It's a joke!"
'Sammy' laughed halfheartedly. "This ain't a good idea, Bert."
"Shut ya yapper! Don't tell me ya' ain't wantin' a go at 'im ya'self! Why'n't ya fuck 'is mouth?" Hands dug at my waist, tugged at my trousers.
"Are ya kiddin' me? Ya can't trust these Chinks, Bert! What'd'ya wanna bet 'e'd bite my prick off?"
"Ya yellow, Sammy!" The carriage swayed harder as it took a turn on two wheels, the pace furious, and we nearly tumbled off the seat. 'Bert' banged furiously on the roof. "Take it easy, driver, damn yer eyes! Dunno where the bitch got 'em, they been one worse'n t'other."
The ether was fogging my senses again, and I knew that if I didn't act immediately, I could resign myself to a short life filled with degradation.
Before my trousers could be yanked down, I drew up my knees and kicked out with my feet, catching my tormentor on the point of his chin. His head snapped back, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he slumped to the floor of the vehicle, his head at an unnatural angle.
The one called Sammy pounded on the roof of the vehicle, screeching for help, but the rattle of horseshoes over the cobbled streets drowned out his cries. I rammed my head into his gut, knocking the wind out of him, then jerked my head up and smashed his chin with the back of my skull. His teeth snapped together and bit off a portion of his tongue, and his gasp caused him to inhale a lungful of blood. He gagged and couldn't seem to decide if he should clutch his belly or his mouth.
I drove my shoulder against the door handle. The door swung open, and I threw myself from the carriage. I hit the roadway, scraping first my knees and then my shoulder as I skidded across the cobblestones, narrowly being missed by another carriage.
"Whoa! Whoa, goddammit, Maude!"
Steel-shod hooves reared above my head, and a panicked whinny rang out. By a supreme act of skill, her driver had her dancing back on her hind legs, and when she came down, she was far enough away to miss me completely.
"What'd you mean by this, you knot-headed, iron-witted scut, you...?" The air turned blue with my rescuer's swearing.
I didn't think I could be any more miserable. And then it started to rain.
The driver of the other carriage stormed up to where I lay, still spouting curses. Somehow I managed to get my knees under me, flinching as grit got into the open scrapes, but when I attempted to climb to my feet I was still too in thrall to the ether, and I toppled onto my side.
"Son of a bitch! You're tied up! I didn't see that! Take it easy, matey." Gentle hands turned me over, and I tried to struggle, but with my arms bound it was too painful. I bit back a groan as the man who had found me ran careful fingers over my body, cataloging the injuries. "You're Chinese! What were you doing, throwing yourself out of a moving carriage, Charley?"
"Free me, and then leave," I panted a warning. "I have powerful enemies! It is not safe for you to help me! If that carriage returns..."
"You let me worry about that, Charley. Don't move; I'll untie you. Good thing I'm a sailor. These knots are a cinch! Landlubbers!" There was a tugging, and then my arms were free, and I whimpered as the strain in my shoulders eased. He fingered the shredded material of my tunic. "You need patching. I'm going to take you back to my rooming house." He knelt beside me, his palm cradling my cheek, and I looked into the bluest eyes I had ever seen. "You're too pretty to leave for the rats."
Gingerly he slid one arm around my shoulders and the other under my knees, then picked me up as easily as if I were a child and got me onto the seat of his carriage. He draped a slicker over me to keep off the rain, and a voice like dark velvet murmured in my ear, "It's going to be all right." He flicked the reins. "Get up, there, Maude!"
I drifted in and out of consciousness, biting back a groan each time the carriage hit a rough spot in the road. "I'm taking you to Mrs. Hicks'. That's where I usually stay when I'm home from the sea."
He spoke the entire way, telling me of how he came to be on the road where he found me, of his life as a sailor, of his hopes one day for a vessel of his own, but it drifted over my head. Eventually we arrived at the rooming house, and he pulled the horse to a halt.
"Mickey, take Maude around to the stables, and then fetch Mr. West." He tossed the male child a coin. "Take a hackney. This rain is really starting to come down!"
"Aye, aye, Mr. Englehorn!"
"You must not get involved..." I tried to warn him again as he bore me into the house.
"I am involved. I have been since I saw you fall out of that carriage and just miss being stepped on by my mare. Now shush. I've sent for a friend of mine. I have a feeling we may need David West's help. He works occasionally for Pinkerton's."
I knew I had heard the name before, I knew it should mean something, but my brain was too clouded.
He raised his voice slightly. "Mrs. Hicks! I've got someone here who needs your expertise in the sick room."
"I'll be right along, Frank," a comfortable female voice called.
He carried me up the stairs to a second floor room and stripped me of my sodden clothes before he placed me carefully on the bed. The sound of shocked breaths had me peeling open an eye and trying to lean up on an elbow. My torso was covered with welts and mottled bruises.
"Ah, Charley, look what they've done to you!" His hands were fisted in anger. "Mrs. Hicks, maybe I should send for a doctor."
"No. It is not as bad as it looks," I was able to whisper. "The scrapes on my knees and shoulder hurt worse."
"It must be painful." The woman, Mrs. Hicks, observed the way I shifted to ease my discomfort. She didn't seem disturbed by my nudity. "Would you like some laudanum, Charley?"
"No." I thought of the house where I had been slated to go. "No drugs."
"Suit yourself." She was older than the man who had saved me, but slender and with a pleasant face. "Would you look at this?" She gestured toward the gold ring that pierced my nipple. The ring was pure gold and engraved with the ideogram of my family. I was surprised it had not been torn free. She shook her head. "Heathens," she murmured good-naturedly. "I'm going to get a basin of water and some cloths. Those scrapes on his knees need to be cleaned up or they'll get infected." She bustled out.
I licked dry lips. "May I have some water, please?"
"Here you go, Charley." A strong arm braced my back and held a glass to my lips.
"Thank you." I sipped gratefully. "Why do you call me 'Charley'?"
"I've got to call you something." There was a smile in that dark velvet voice. "Is there something else you want to be called instead?"
Knowing who I was could well put his life in danger. "'Charley' will do fine. And you, honored sir? What do I call you?"
"I'm Frank Englehorn. Just don't call me Horny. That was supposed to be funny," he said apologetically at my confused expression. He offered me another sip of water, and when I shook my head, he put down the glass, but he didn't remove his arm. "What's this, just to the left of your breastbone?"
He ran a finger over the skin, and I shivered before I could prevent myself. I felt a flush rise up in my cheeks and dropped my eyes to avoid his questioning gaze. The spot he touched, with the small tattoo of a tiger on the attack, its claws extended and teeth bared, was oddly unbruised.
"The tiger is my family's symbol, the most powerful creature in the Chinese lexicon, next to the dragon..."
"Which is reserved for the emperor."
I was surprised that he knew that. "Yes."
He eased me back down onto the pillow. "Let me just get... ah, good, here's a towel."
"I am not wet enough to warrant such a large towel," I told him.
"It's not to dry you off." He placed it over my loins. "Make sure that stays put. Mrs. Hicks had been widowed for some time. No need to place temptation before her."
My eyes widened, but before I could respond, Mrs. Hicks returned with a basin of water which she placed on the bedside table. "Lean forward. I want to see your back." Her fingers were gentle as they enumerated the many bruises. Then she touched my hair and tisked. "Frank, look at this!"
Frank Englehorn ran his fingers over the blood that had crusted over the back of my head and growled. "Whoever took your queue did a half-assed job of it, my friend. They cut so close to the scalp they made you bleed."
"My queue was removed so that I would feel shame, Frank Englehorn. It was not done with a care to how it might look, or what injury might be done to me."
The door burst open and hard boot heels crossed the floor. "Frank! Mickey said there was a problem?"
"Dave!"
I circled my fingers around his wrist to prevent him from moving. "Honored sir. You saved my life. It now belongs to you."
His eyes became hooded. "We'll speak of this another time." He rose to his feet. "Out in the hall, Dave. I'll tell you what..." His voice faded and I heard the door shut.
"Well, now, Charley. Let's see if we can get you more comfortable."
According to Mrs. Hicks, I was badly bruised, but nothing was broken. She came in to check on me daily.
I saw Frank Englehorn in the morning and in the evening, since it was his room I was staying in. He spent his days at the harbor, trying to find a ship that needed hands. It never occurred to me to question why it would take an experienced first mate so long to sign on any ship he chose.
The first morning I awoke to the feel of gentle fingers wandering over my buttocks. Englehorn was beside me on the bed. I hummed in pleasure and wriggled and spread my legs, then groaned as my aches made themselves known.
"There is no evidence of sodomy, Charley." His words were soft.
"The one called Bert was about to attempt it."
"But he didn't succeed." There was relief in his voice. "Describe him, please."
"Bulky. A little taller than you, perhaps. Small eyes that promised enjoyment in causing pain, and a nose that appeared to have been broken many times." I paused for a moment. "Very large fists."
"I don't understand how you managed to escape."
I smiled into the pillow, but did not enlighten him.
That night he climbed into bed with me. He brushed the hair back from my face, but he made no move to touch my body, and I was grateful, because even the tips of my hair hurt.
But over the course of the next few weeks, he still made no move to become my lover, and I began to wonder if it was out of concern for my injuries or because I was Chinese.
I was sitting at the window, brooding. I knew Frank Englehorn wanted me; why did he not take me? Often I found his eyes on me, hot and hungry, but he made no move to have me in his bed.
The door opened suddenly, and he walked in. I was surprised. He usually returned later in the afternoon. I smiled a welcome. And then I saw the handsome man who followed him, and my smile faded.
"This is David West, Charley."
The dark-haired man was in his twenties, about Frank Englehorn's age. "You're looking much better than the last time I saw you. How are you feeling?"
"I do not hurt."
"That's good." His smile was friendly, but I did not return it. "You had Frank really scared, y'know. Yellow and purple don't make a good combination. Whoever did this to you worked you over pretty good. He wanted to make sure you pissed blood for a while."
Englehorn stared intently into my eyes. "You said the man who tried to sodomize you was named 'Bert'."
"Yes."
"From the description you gave Frank, it sounds like Bert Cordovan. An attack like that would be right up his alley! Cordovan was bad news!" David West declared. "You're one lucky Chinaman, Charley, I can tell you that!"
Luck had nothing to do with it. "Was?" I rose and went to the man who had saved my life, and I leaned against him, subtly stating my claim. The shirt I wore hung open, and I was pleased when he draped an arm over my shoulder and began to toy with the gold ring that pierced my nipple.
David West observed us with interest, but said nothing about our actions. "His body was fished out of the river a couple of days after Frank found you. The little weasel who was his shadow hasn't been seen since, but I kind of have the idea that when he turns up, it will be as a corpse also."
"Good riddance to bad rubbish," Englehorn snarled. "I'd say someone had it in for Charley, to sic those two lowlifes on him. Did you find out who was behind this, Dave?"
"Well, I traced him back to Washington, DC. You were the Merrimans' houseboy, weren't you, Charley?"
I stared at him inscrutably.
"The name doesn't ring a bell to me, Dave."
"I didn't expect it to, Frank. You don't keep up with politics. Gregory Merriman is undersecretary to the Ambassador to China. His wife, Alyce, though, she's a power-hungry bitch! She has to be the one who was behind this. I found information that indicated she hired Cordovan and Sammy. The carriage they were using wasn't pulled by job horses. She must have sent word ahead and had good stock waiting for them. I've never known the trip from Washington to New York to be made so quickly. I can't find out why, but she wanted your boy out of the Capital. Actually, she wanted him out of this life."
It suddenly occurred to me to wonder who had been driving those horses, and why hadn't he stopped them and returned to finish the job?
I had more immediate worries, though, and I said, "I told you I have powerful enemies. I will leave immediately."
"What's this about leaving?" Mrs. Hicks came in, bearing a bowl of stew on a tray.
"You are all endangered because of your kindness to me."
"He's got a point, Frank. The coppers have been snooping around. Oh, I put a bug in their ear and sent 'em about their business, but it won't be long before they come back. Too many people know about Charley, and even if they have nothing against the Chinese, tongues have been known to wag."
"Mickey?" Frank Englehorn took the bowl of stew from Mrs. Hicks.
"And that sister of his who cleans for me."
"Mrs. Hicks is right, we have to get out of here. I just ran into the skipper of the Wanderer. He's agreed to take Charley. I've signed on as first mate. The skipper knows me, and he won't have a problem with us bedding down there until she sails. Here, sit down and eat this. I'll start packing."
"But what will I do on the ship?"
"The Wanderer needs a cook. We had to take turns cooking on the last voyage because the stupid fool got drunk and fell overboard."
"I cannot cook." As much as I wanted to, I could not lie. I had been taught many things, but cooking was not one of them.
"You can learn, Charley. The Wanderer doesn't sail for another ten days. I'm a fair cook, and I'll teach you what I know."
"And I have a book of recipes I'll give you," Mrs. Hicks said decisively. "Er... you can read English, can't you?"
I was taken aback by her kindness. "Yes."
She hurried out to find the cookbook.
"Well, then, what do you say?"
"I will go with you." There was never a question of me not going.
"Good, good."
"I have to be on my way. Frank, you know how to contact me if you need to. Charley, it's been a pleasure. I look forward to seeing the two of you when the Wanderer docks in six months." Dave West winked at us both and left.
Englehorn had us packed, and he handed me a pea coat. Mrs. Hicks tucked the book in my sea bag, hugged us both, and dabbed at her eyes with her apron. "You take care of him, you hear?"
"Of course, Mrs. Hicks," I said, and a smile bloomed on her face.
"I was talking to this salty dog!" she chuckled, swatting Englehorn's arm, "But it's nice to know you'll watch out for him." She leaned forward as if to kiss my cheek, and whispered, "He needs taking care of, Charley." And then she did kiss me. She turned and kissed Englehorn, and rushed out.
He stared after her, then shook his head. "Let's shove off, Charley."
Out on the street, he ordered up a hackney cab to take us across the river to Hoboken, where the Wanderer rode at anchor.
We settled ourselves in the forward-facing seat. He had gotten me a cap which I kept low over my eyes to conceal their shape. "Where will the Wanderer sail to on this voyage, Frank Englehorn?"
"The Skipper said South America. I've been there so often I'm getting bored. One of these days, when I have my own ship, I'm heading for the South Seas." His expression became pensive. "I've done a lot of reading about it."
"I have been to some of the islands there. I will enjoy seeing the South Seas again."
"Charley, I have to talk to you."
"I will listen," I said cautiously.
"I've been thinking about what you said, about you belonging to me. I'm familiar with that Chinese custom, but things aren't done that way in America." I must have gotten a stubborn look on my face, because he held up his hand. "I won't argue with you, Charley."
The cab came to a stop at the pier, and we stepped down. Englehorn paid the driver and slung the two sea bags over his shoulder.
"I can carry my own bag, " I told him, perhaps more sulkily than was proper. Why could he not understand that my life was his?"
"You can't belong to me, Charley. But you can come with me." He chewed on his lip. "There's something else I need to talk to you about. As first mate, I'm entitled to a cabin to myself. I think it would be a good idea if you bunked with me. This isn't a bad crew, but they like to rag pogy baits, and they might get a little overenthusiastic. If you sleep in my cabin, the crew will think that you're under my protection, and they'll let you be."
I smiled and bowed my head in agreement. "Whatever you say, honorable one." He was unaware that his crew might get overenthusiastic once, but not more than once.
"I promise you that I won't lay a hand on you."
"But..."
"I know you'd accept anything I did to you, Charley, because of this belief of yours that your life belongs to me. I wouldn't abuse you like that."
"Do you really believe I could not protect myself?"
"Isn't a question of protecting, my friend. It's a question of honor."
I could not argue with that.
We climbed up the gangway together. He watched carefully as if to make sure I did not fall over.
"Frank Englehorn, I am better. You do not need to watch me like a mother hen."
"Y'know, Charley, for a Chinese national, you have a damned good command of the English language."
I realized with shock that I had made no effort to use the sing-song pidgin English I would normally resort to in a foreign land. "So solly, Englehorn. Chorry no make stupid mistake rike that again."
He shook his head and began to laugh. For a second I thought he was going to say something further, but he simply gave a crooked smile. "Come on. I'll rig up a hammock for you, and then show you where the galley is."
tbc