Having slept fitfully, I woke at first light and went on deck to watch the dawn. “Red light at morning …”, I thought. It is going to be a stormy day. The hammering that persisted through the night had given way to random clinks. I went down to the cargo deck to see the workmen reassembling the starboard, or right, boiler under what had been the light of lanterns and torches. The deck was cluttered with tools, rusted and scaled iron plates, and pieces of pipe. A bleary-eyed officer was overseeing the work.

“Good morning,” I called out.

“Mornin’ to ye, young lad. Ye be up early.”

“I am an early riser, I suppose. How is the work going?”

“Be done in two shakes of a lamb's tail. We should be ready for boardin’ in an hour or so.”

“Is there time for me and my party to go ashore to break our fast?”

“Ye can eat with the crew, if it please ye. We chow in the galley on the hurricane in 30 minutes or so. Rouse yer crew and ye can join us.”

“Thank you very much.” I went back to the cabin, woke a very sleepy Sandy, and knocked on the office door until Becky responded, “We be out soon as Hans be dressed.”

In a few minutes, I heard the office door to the promenade open followed by the muffled voices of Becky and a whiney Hans outside. Meanwhile, Sandy was still buttoning her first boot. “Hurry up! I am starving, and they are not going to wait on us.”

“Alright, alright, I’m working as fast as I can.”

“Don’t say ‘I’m’! It is not ladylike. ‘I am.’”

“Alright, I am working as fast as I can.”

Being impatient, I took my button hook to her other boot, and still finished before her.

“Come along!” I locked our cabin door and turned to see a colored and a white woman standing on the deck. It took me a second to recognize the white one as Hans in Becky’s other dress and bonnet.

“Hans?”

“She be Hannah now. I ain’t havin’ people say, ‘Becky, she be sleepin’ wid a white boy.’ So, I says wear my dress o’ sleep outside.”

“Hans?”

“Becky, she make me. I not ask für to vear dress.” He was blushing furiously, but the way he straightened his dress hinted at something more.

“I tol’ you he be a girl.”

“Well, we do not have time to sort this out now. … Hans, or Hannah, you do not sound like a girl, so keep quiet. If you have to talk, speak softly. I will say you have just come from Germany and do not speak much English.”

Some crewmen were still entering the galley as I told the captain the engineer had invited us to eat with them.

“And welcome you are.”

The victualing was quite egalitarian with colored firemen sitting at the same table as white officers. The only sign of rank was that the captain sat at the head with his officers, while the crew sat further down. Sandy and I were invited to sit by the officers, while Becky and Hannah sat at the far end with the maid who had shown us aboard. The maid looked closely at Hanna, but said nothing of his new persona. I noticed that Hannah’s effeminate manner drew less attention in female attire than in tongs.

“Where you headed to?” asked the captain. So began a pleasant conversation and breakfast, with the captain recounting stories of his life on the river.

He started as a cabin boy and, on his first trip, the boiler blew up. Luckily he escaped unharmed and managed to save a passenger who later died of gruesome burns – begging in his final hours that the captain put him out of his misery. He swore that if he were ever a master, he would attend most closely to his boilers and their crew. Since the engineer of the destroyed boat was “drunk as a pig,” none of his crew is allowed a drop on board.

On his most recent trip up river, he had rescued “the Apostles,” for so he called James and John, the colored firemen seated with us. They had been wrongly enslaved on the Wheeling and jumped overboard when she stuck on a snag. Captain Burch stopped to pull them from the water, but refused to pull the Wheeling off. He now expected trouble from her captain on the down river trip.

At the end of the meal, Captain Burch bade us a pleasant trip, and turned to a discussion of the day’s business with his officers. As we descended to the cabin deck, passengers were beginning to trickle aboard. Becky wanted to meet the ladies to offer them her hairdressing services, while Sandy ran off in search of playmates. That left me alone with Hannah.

“You look quite comfortable in your dress.”

The poor lad could only blush.

“Have you worn a dress before?”

He looked even more embarrassed.

I decided that such direct questions would be of no avail.

“I think you need to relax a bit, you seem tense.”

“Tense?”

I mimicked tension for him, then eased my shoulders to convey the idea of relaxation. He seemed to understand.

“Would you like me to help you relax?”

“Ya, I vould.”

“This is my witching stone. Look into it. Can you see a face or an animal in it? No? Look deeper and relax.” He easily passed into the dream world.

“Quiet yourself. I am your friend. You know that, right?”

“Ya.”

“How do you feel about Becky making you wear a dress like a girl?”

“Shame dat Becky sees me.”

“Sees you in a dress or sees that you would like a dress?”

“Dat I like dress.”

“It is not bad to like wearing dresses. I like them sometimes.”

“Aber, you are eine Frau … a voman.”

“Alright, but I dress like a man and like that too.”

“I alzo like you dress like a man.”

“Thank you – danke. … Do you mind that Becky gave you a girl’s name, Hannah?”

“Ich bin .. I am Hans, aber Hannah is a gut name.”

“Yes, Hannah is a pretty name.”

He smiled.

“Would you like me to call you Hannah?”

“Ya. I like ven you call me Hannah.”

“Then I will.”

“Danke.”

“Are you a girl inside, Hannah?”

“Nein! Ich weiss nicht, kein Mädchen, kein Junge.”

“I do not understand, English please.”

“Not a girl. Not a boy like de oter boys – a boy who vants to vear de dress of eine girl ist not a boy.”

“Have you worn a dress before?”

“Vone time I tell mama I kranke, sick, ven my family, it goes zur Kirke … to de church. Den I vear my sister dress.”

“Did that feel good?”

“Ya. I not bin für pants made – für dresses. Ich hoffe, eines Tages eine Frau zu sein.”

“English please.”

“I hope … I vill be a vife one day.”

“That is possible.”

“Möglich?“

“It can be.”

“Nein. I vant a vife für you to be, aber it never be zo.

“Well maybe not me, but someone will love you.”

“In dress?”

“Yes.”

“Nein, I vill go to Hölle ... hell. Mein fater, he says.”

“God will not send you to hell for being how He made you. If He made you to be a wife, He will be happy when you are a wife.”

“Is truth?”

“Yes, is truth. If you like dresses, wear dresses and be happy and proud, Hannah. ... Now, you will wake slowly and feel wonderful.”

He slowly returned.

“How do you feel Hannah?”

“Wunderbar!”

I hugged him and got a warm hug back.

“Hannah, you need to pay Becky for her dress and bonnet.”

“I vill.”

I looked at him. You look a little pale dear.” I found my lip rouge and put a touch of color on his lips and beardless cheeks.

Putting his arm on mine, I said, “Let's go for a walk on the deck before it gets too hot.”

Shortly, pistons hissed, the side wheels started turning and the Linn backed into the Ohio. Half a mile ahead I saw a boat with “Wheeling” on its side turning downstream.