Autumn In India
By
J.L. Young

A young boatswain stepped down the ladder and shuffled through the narrow passageway made by the slumbering second watch and stopped at the thick oak door to the forecastle. He rapped on the rough wood. The poor lad’s voice trembled with fear, “Lady Greene, Captain Landry requests your presence on deck.”

The door opened and a sweet aroma of vanilla and lemon danced about the boatswain. Thick lips formed a smirk, “Do you fear my presence, Mr. Marsh?”

“No, no, I do not,” he replied.

“Good,” she smiled. “Lead on.”

The passageway wreaked of boots to which the scent of leather had long faded only to be replaced by the sweat of able seamen.

They climbed the ladder into the brightness. The Captain stood on the poop deck overlooking men carrying out their various duties on the main deck. His custom austerity was replaced by an unforeseen gentility on their approach. He shifted his gaze to the young boatswain, Thank you, Mr. Marsh. You are dismissed.”

“Aye Captain.”

He rested his hand on the gunwale looking out at the spice port city of Kochi, “Miss Greene, I hope the segregation was not too much of a burden. I endeavor to assuage the superstition of the crew but alas I managed to only enable such absurd notions. I fear, this long while, I have succumbed to it as well.”

“You know superstition to be absurd, therefore the light of your lamp will lead them.” Her brow raised, “You wished to see me?”

“I missed the opportunity to engage you in conversation on subjects of philosophy and literature.”

“Perhaps on the return voyage, Captain. I might even let you call me Autumn.”

He spoke with a bard’s tongue, “Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;”

Her smile produced dimples on her freckle kissed cheeks, “To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; ‘To Autumn,’ Keats. A favorite of mine.”

“Mine as well. Miss Greene,” he replied.

In port, the young woman stepped down from the gangway. Autumn looked back at the Captain still on his watch. She waved goodbye and he reciprocated.

Several seamen lugged her luggage to the pier where a boy with a mule stood ready. The seamen packed the animal. The boy asked, “Where to mum?”

Astounded by the boy’s perfect English, “The Queen of the Arabian Sea Hotel, Please.”

“This way, mum, this way!”

She followed the boy to a palace with a blend of architectural styles. Several marble domes stood atop stone walls washed in white. A tower stood tall at a corner. A lush garden with a great fountain surrounded the palace. Expansive arches expressed great opulence. Inside, a gray marble floor brought to a brilliant shine was flanked by gilded stone pillars creating a colonnade.

The lobby was equally adorned. There a man sat on a black and gold rug with braided fringe. In his hands, he held an unwieldy instrument with many strings, though he played only a few. The beautiful deep red colored wood chamber amplified the complex tones. The player looked up from his instrument and instantly ceased playing. He quickly rested the instrument on a stand, stood, and bowed. “Namaste.”

“I beg your pardon, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Your music is quite beautiful. What instrument is that?”

He moved behind a black marble counter. His English was not as refined as the harbor boy’s. He smiled, “It is a sitar. I play and now I conduct business. When business has concluded, I play again. I have many rooms. Name, please?”

“Autumn Greene. I’m a governess.”

“We welcome a woman of your stature. Your teachings will bring great prosperity to our land.” He dipped a quill into an ink jar and scribbled in the registry. Then, the clerk collected a large black key from behind him and called, “Pahanana.”

A porter appeared and he collected the key. “Take Miss Greene’s effects to room two-nineteen.”

The porter collected a brass cart and disappeared down the long colonnade.

Autumn requested, “May I stay awhile and listen to you play?”

The clerk stepped from behind the counter smiled, and led her to the rug.