She expected to hear his footsteps receding into his office, but instead, he was crossing the shop towards the shelves, where she was vigorously dusting the remaining few jars. She looked over at the captain, who, to her surprise, had his foot on the first step of the spiral staircase.

Her eyes lit up with a fresh curiosity, but the Captain only gave her a look in return which plainly said, Be about yer business, and nevermind mine. She had heard him say this often enough, with precisely that look, so she was well versed in its meaning.

As she turned to the jars again, she slyly watched the captain out of the corner of her eye. The thing she had seen in his hand was now revealed to be a key; heavy, old, and made of what looked like iron. With a thrill, she realized that the door at the top of the stairs was surely about to be unlocked and opened!

She turned a little, under the pretense of reaching one of the ships on an upper shelf, and looked up just as the Captain opened the door and passed quickly through, closing it heavily behind him. She caught a glimpse of rough beams on the ceiling, and a faint fragrance reached her, even at the bottom of the stairs—a familiar fragrance, but one Katherine couldn’t quite place.

There had been light in the room as the door was opened, so Katherine had surmised that there must be a window of some kind. She began on the last few jars, dusting as slowly as she could, prolonging her task in order to have a reason to remain in her place until the captain came out again.

There was a tantalizing squeak of floorboards above, then she thought she discerned the quick swipe of a box cutter through packing tape, muffled, to be sure, but faintly discernable. She heard the captain’s characteristic grunt, then a scrape and creak. There must be a chair up there… and maybe a desk? Katherine thought to herself. She held as still as possible, straining to catch even the smallest clue to what was happening there.

After a minute or two, there was another grunt, and then a long, moaning creak, as of hinges unused to motion, and the slightest rustle that might have been something like stiff paper, then another moan from the unseen hinges. Katherine could hear the captain nearing the door again, and she looked back at the jar she was dusting, knowing that she dared not be caught watching when he came out.

She heard the door open and sneaked a glance upwards as it closed behind the captain. His broad shoulders blocked her view this time, however, and she turned around again, hoping he hadn’t noticed her curiosity.

“Anything interesting in the mail today?” she asked over her shoulder, trying to sound careless and disinterested. The captain grunted and replied,

“Only this, but it’ll keep till Thursday with the rest.” Katherine turned and stared at the box, which was again tucked beneath the captain’s arm. It had been opened, but the flaps had been folded closed again, and the shipping label had been removed. The captain set it gently on the counter, then returned to his office. Katherine heard the drawer again, and decided he was probably replacing the old key in a drawer of his desk.

“You can take the boxes down to the storeroom now” came the captain’s voice from the other room, now returned to its normal tone.

Katherine set down the last jar, which had by that time been dusted four or five times, and gladly walked over to the counter. She eyed the mysterious box, but seeing no clues to its contents or sender, took it to the storeroom along with the rest of the stack. She saved it for last, however, the captain’s gentle treatment of it inspiring the same in her, and set it almost reverentially on the top of the others. A day and a half, she thought, and I will be opening that box… I wonder what could be inside?

When she left that afternoon, she walked around to the back of the building, gazing up through the gloomy dusk to see if she could spy the window which she knew must exist to let light into the room at the top of the staircase.

Standing as far back as she could, she craned her neck, but all she could see was the brick wall, a roofline, and then more brickwork behind. She stood right at the middle of the building where she knew the staircase to be and stood on tiptoe. But there was no window to be seen in that part of the building, not even in the higher section of the brick wall. So, she turned and walked slowly home, puzzled and impatient.

30 The Mysterious Package

Katherine walked down the empty street, too full of    anticipation to savor the morning stillness of the downtown blocks. She was earlier than her usual time but had been too excited to wait out the last ten minutes before it was time for her to leave.

Even this had not allayed her impatience, though, and her pace quickened with every step that carried her nearer to the Harborside. Her heartbeat quickened as well, and the closer she came to the shop, the more intense her desire became to sprint the last few steps and arrive at last.

Katherine always enjoyed Thursdays at the Harborside, but today was to be no ordinary Thursday. Today, the Captain was going to open the mysterious package.

The sun had just begun to light up the grey clouds over the harbor and all the world seemed still, but Katherine’s mind was spinning with speculations and wonderings. The first birds were singing by the time Katherine got to the front door, and the sky was painted with vivid shades of pink and orange, but all she could think of was getting to that box.

As usual, she stopped just inside the door to don her plain canvas apron while calling out a greeting so the captain would know she was there. She quickly stepped behind the counter and pulled out the drawer where the box cutter was kept. Then she flew to the side door of the shop which led to the storeroom, taking a clipboard from its nail on the wall as she opened the door.

Captain Braddock, who had been looking over a ledger at his desk, looked up in surprise and arrested Katherine’s flight by saying in an astonished tone,

“Well, good mornin’ to you. Why the hurry, there, young miss? It’s ten minutes before starting time, and you’re already here, apron on, and bolting out the door. What’s there to rush off to in the storeroom?”

Katherine blushed and turned to meet the captain’s gaze. Hesitating for a moment, she decided to be completely honest.

“It’s just that… well, I’ve been so curious about that extra package. You were so mysterious about it, and I’ve been wondering what it could be.”

Katherine’s honesty brought a smile to the old man’s face and melted the gruffness out of his voice as he replied, “Well, then, why don’t we go see what’s in those boxes?”

He led the way into the storeroom and handed Katherine the box. She sat down on the floor with the clipboard beside her as she usually did while unboxing and slowly lifted the tightly-folded flaps.

Inside the box, she found a loose mass of packing paper, which she lifted, exposing a black wooden box, intricately carved and tied shut with a silky red ribbon. She looked up at the captain in wonder.

“What is it?” she asked, lifting the box carefully out of its nest of paper.

The captain smiled as he reached for the box, then looked it over thoughtfully, turning it over in his hands. Finally, he spoke. “I suppose I could have told you about it Tuesday; I didn’t know it would hold you in such suspense. It’s tea, but special tea. Finish the unpacking, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Katherine took no time that day to spin daydreams of the far-off places from which the boxes had been sent, as she usually did. She unpacked each box quickly, marking its contents on the inventory sheet attached to the clipboard. When she was finished, she walked back into the captain’s office, hanging the clipboard up by the door as always. She was about to go back down for a box so she could empty its contents into jars when the captain stopped her.

“Come take a break for a bit, Katherine. We’ve an hour yet till we open, and I want to tell you about this tea so you can talk it up with the customers.” There was a twinkle in his eye which told Katherine that this was only part of his reason. He led the way over to a narrow curtained doorway between two bookshelves which Katherine had never noticed before. He twitched back the heavy green curtain and led the way into a small sliver of a room with a sink and a cooktop.

“I never knew this was here.” Katherine said, wondering how the curtained doorway could have escaped her notice for so long. The captain gave a grunt.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about the old girl” he said, laying a hand reverently on the wall, as he might have done to an old ship. “She’s got her share of secrets, for sure.”

He filled a brass kettle and set it on the stove, then pulled a teapot and two sturdy white teacups down from a shelf. He went out into the office and returned, holding the black box. Katherine watched as the captain untied the heavy satin ribbon and handed it to her. Then the lid, which had been fitted with some sort of gasket to keep the air out, was ceremoniously lifted.

A fragrance filled the air. Katherine recognized it as an aroma of tea, but it was fresher and more delicate than the varieties she was used to. She edged closer to the captain to get a better view of the contents of the box.

“It smells like tea, but these leaves look so different from the leaves in the jars.”

Katherine had learned to recognize the different teas the Harborside carried by sight, but she had never seen anything quite like these leaves. They were a silvery grey and fuzzy, and, if it weren’t for their fragrance, she might have thought they were some strange variety of pine needle.

“It’s called silver needle white tea, and it’s the rarest tea you’ll ever set your eyes upon. It’s the first flush, you see.” The captain took the singing kettle off the burner and put some of the hot water into the pot.

Katherine watched him, looking puzzled. “I heard you and a customer discussing first flush teas the other day, but I don’t know what the term means.”

“You don’t?” The captain was surprised. “The first flush is the first harvest of the season, and with most any type of tea, the first is considered the very best. With white tea it’s even more special, you see, because it’s picked so early in the season. It’s just the buds of the leaves, picked while they’re young and tender. That’s what gives them such a different color and texture.

“This tea grows high in the mountains in the Fujian Province, and is picked very early in the spring, just before dawn. It’s important, you see, that the dew still be on the buds when they’re picked. They’re rolled, but only gently, you see, and dried in the sun. It’s all done by hand, and they’re very careful which buds they use—only the best are chosen. They also won’t harvest if it’s raining.”

“And all that really makes a difference?” Katherine sounded a bit skeptical. The captain smiled as he poured the water out of the teapot and reached for the box of tea.

“You’re about to find out for yourself, there, Missy.” Katherine’s eyes grew wide.

“Really? You mean we get to try it?” she asked excitedly.

“Of course.” He replied with a chuckle, picking up the kettle and saying, “Now, here’s the trick to this tea. It’s gotta be brewed just right, or it will ruin the flavor.”

Katherine nodded solemnly, taking mental notes.

“First, you saw me warm the pot. That will make sure the water doesn’t cool too much when it’s poured in. Then, the water has to be the right temperature. Did you notice I’ve let the kettle set a bit after it whistled? Well, the water should be ready just about now.”

As Captain Braddock slowly poured the water over the leaves, the fragrance filled the small kitchen, now stronger and with a hint of floral sweetness. Katherine took a deep breath.

“It certainly smells like it should be rare and precious!” she exclaimed. The captain, nodding, set the lid on the pot and continued.