{"id":81,"date":"2009-05-08T09:06:34","date_gmt":"2009-05-08T16:06:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/?p=81"},"modified":"2014-01-16T18:37:16","modified_gmt":"2014-01-17T01:37:16","slug":"ignatius-skye","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/?p=81","title":{"rendered":"IGNATIUS SKYE, Ship’s Cat"},"content":{"rendered":"

PROLOGUE <\/span> <\/span> <\/span> <\/span> <\/span> <\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n


\n<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ignatius Skye was alone. \u00a0With his good eye he peered wearily out at the rocking sea from his perch atop the crosstrees, the only piece of wreckage still afloat after the scuttling of the HMS Oracle. \u00a0Turquoise ocean stretched calm in every direction, and blissful tropical weather prevailed, but Ignatius Skye was one worried cat. \u00a0Thirst for fresh water prickled on his tongue. \u00a0Longing for his soft-woven cushion in the window at Number 4 Tide Street, Boston, crested higher than ever. \u00a0This time Ignatius Skye had drifted too far.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n


\n<\/strong><\/p>\n

PART FIRST<\/span><\/p>\n

Boston, 1783<\/span><\/p>\n


\n<\/strong><\/p>\n

CHAPTER 1<\/span><\/p>\n

LAND AND SEA <\/span> <\/span> <\/span> <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span> <\/span> <\/span> <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

In the darkening garret, Isobel Skye lay with her litter of kittens. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThey look like things that have been boiled and spat out,” she thought, looking at her brood.<\/span><\/p>\n

They were scrawny with pink skin showing through thin, wet fur. \u00a0Their eyes were clamped shut into slits that looked sewn shut. \u00a0Tiny plugs of ears jutted from the sides of their heads. Isobel knew that before long their raw, newborn looks would change. \u00a0Soon she would see their eyes and hear their voices mewling for food. <\/span><\/p>\n

The abandoned house was cold. Soldiers had made a wreck of it during Boston’s Siege. \u00a0With the war finally over, Isobel hoped that the Jeffers family – the Deacon, Sally and their children – would return to the clapboard Yankee house and make Isobel’s world whole again. \u00a0Home for the Jeffers was here, at Number 4 Tide Street. \u00a0Home is where any family should be.<\/span><\/p>\n

Isobel turned to the task at hand. \u00a0She was a seasoned mother and had sent other offspring into the world with the skills they’d need to survive. \u00a0She would begin again with this batch, starting with their names. \u00a0Isobel would copy Sally Jeffers and give each one a name that began with same initial letter as hers.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>Innika was pure white with a spike of black on her tail. \u00a0Ivan was a feisty ginger cat. \u00a0Indigo claimed an inky, blue-black coat. Isaac was a classic tabby male. Last, and smallest, was Ignatius, the runt of the litter. \u00a0His tiny body and legs were white. \u00a0Seven toes on each front paw and six on the back, gave him more toes than his siblings and most other cats. \u00a0They made his feet look big and flat, as if he were wearing mittens. \u00a0A cape of gray striped his back and covered his ears, forming a mask above his eyes. \u00a0His eyes. \u00a0Through the narrow opening, Isobel caught the briefest glimpse. \u00a0The right eye shone the bluest of ocean blues; the left glimmered \u00a0a tawny, earthen gold. \u00a0Ignatius Skye bore the colors of land and sea. <\/span><\/p>\n

Isobel licked each kitten clean and set it to nestle with the others. \u00a0Once they were comfortable, \u00a0she did the thing that came most naturally. \u00a0She rested herself…<\/span><\/p>\n


\n<\/span><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

PROLOGUE Ignatius Skye was alone. \u00a0With his good eye he peered wearily out at the rocking sea from his perch atop the crosstrees, the only piece of wreckage still afloat after the scuttling of the HMS Oracle. \u00a0Turquoise ocean stretched calm in every direction, and blissful tropical weather prevailed, but Ignatius Skye was one worried […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[9,41],"tags":[40,50],"class_list":["post-81","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-book","category-ignatius-skye","tag-barabara-sweeney","tag-book"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/81"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=81"}],"version-history":[{"count":14,"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/81\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":100,"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/81\/revisions\/100"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=81"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=81"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/basweeney.com\/writings\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=81"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}