by Kristy Tate
He glanced at her but soon returned his attention to the coin he tossed in the air.
She sat down beside him. “I’m sure you must have questions.”
“Do you think?” he growled without looking at her.
She grabbed the coin midair. It was a 1999 penny, dull, but a very real, tangible reminder of a different life and time. Curling her fingers around it, she fought a wave of homesickness that surprised her. No, she reminded herself, this life is better. Besides, it wasn’t as if she had a choice. Did she?
Joel rolled onto his side and propped himself on his elbow. She hadn’t realized he was so muscular beneath his customary buttoned-up shirts and ties.
He caught her staring at his chest, and she flushed and looked away.
“What are you doing here, Cami?”
“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever called me Cami.”
“Not an answer,” he said with a hard, unfamiliar voice.
“I don’t know how to get back…even if I wanted to,” Cami admitted.
“And you don’t want to.”
Cami shook her head and glanced out the tiny porthole that let in a bright stream of sunlight. “I can see why you wouldn’t get it. I mean you just got here.”
“Okay—good question. Where is here? Where are we?”
“The Caribbean. We’re in the middle of the Revolutionary War.”
He cut her off. “I got all of that. What I don’t know is why we’re here.”
Cami shook her head. “I can’t tell you that.”
“And you don’t know how to get back, even though, according to you, you’ve been here for months.”
“What’s happening at home? Is my mom freaking out?”
Joel sat up. “You disappeared and moments later, I followed you.”
“Oh, good. So time must go at different speeds.”
“No!” Joel bellowed, startling Cami.
She’d never heard him yell before, not even when Hank Larson broke the snake tank. He was a good teacher, she realized, probably one of the best. Everyone loved his class. He would be missed. He deserved to return to his life. Whereas Cami...
“Time does not go at different speeds,” Joel said. “Are you listening to yourself? There’s no such thing as time travel. The Witching Well is just a legend.”
“The Witching Well,” Cami repeated. “No one said anything about the Witching Well.”
Joel flushed and ran his fingers through his hair.
Cami straightened her spine as the revelation sank in. “You gave me water from the Witching Well?”
“Technically, you took it. I was going to run tests on it.”
“That explains a lot.”
Joel blew out a frustrated sigh. “No, it does not. It explains nothing.”
“Of course no one believes the stories, but now we know.”
“No, we don’t. There’s still lots we don’t know. We don’t know how we got here, and more importantly, we don’t know how to get home.”
Cami wilted a fraction. “You’re right, of course. Besides, I don’t want to go back.”
“And that is the biggest question of all. Are you in love with this guy?”
“Yes.” Although, she knew that wasn’t exactly true. He was more of a solution than a love interest.
“Really?”
“Yes,” she said, lacing her voice with resolve.
“You don’t sound so sure.”
It was Cami’s turn to sigh. “I’d rather stay here.”
“And he’s your ticket?”
“It’s not like that.”
“I think it’s just like that. He buys your food and provides your roof. That’s prostitution, Cami.”
“You’re awful! And disgusting!”
“And I’m right, and you know it.” Joel stopped tossing his coin.
“It’s not like that. He’s not like that. He’s barely even kissed me. He’s a perfect gentleman.”
“Then he’s gay.”
“Aargh!” She spun away from him. “You’re such a product of your debauched time.”
“Debauched?” he called out after her. “You don’t use words like debauched.”
She stopped but didn’t turn back his way. “Well, maybe now I do.”
“Why? Because you’re enlightened now? You think you belong in this more genteel era?” Joel sat up, swung his legs over the side of his cot, and braced his hands on his knees. “Well let me throw out some words you haven’t obviously thought of. How about smallpox? Influenza? How about natural childbirth? You think your life will be easier in the eighteenth century? Think again.”
Cami flounced away and headed for the stairs, the upper-deck, and fresh air. “I don’t have to listen to this. I don’t have to listen to you.”
“Yeah, but eventually you’ll have to listen to the voice in your head telling you everything I’m saying is the truth.”
She paused in the doorway. “You don’t seem to get I can have you thrown overboard.”
“You won’t do that.”
“But I can.”
“But you won’t.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because you’re a good person. Just at the moment, somehow, you’ve forgotten who you are.”
Picking up her skirts, Cami ran from the room as if she could outrun the questions peppering her thoughts. Did she love Phillip La Fleur? Maybe not, but she did care about him. She worried about him when he was away playing pirate. She wanted him to be happy. And she was attracted to him.
Because he looks like Joel? A voice in the back of her mind whispered.
No! She’d been in love with—or gaga over—Joel for years. She was only eighteen, too young to understand love. Immediately, Cami recognized her mother’s words. Wasn’t that what her mom had always told her? That she was too young to understand real love? But who was her mom to make judgment calls? Her mom was forty years old, single and bitter.
Besides, Joel was a troll. Worse than a troll. He was…she couldn’t think of anything evil enough to describe him. How dare he call her a whore!
Cami sat down on the stairs that led to the upper deck and placed her head in her hands. This whole eighteenth-century trip had been weird, but adding Joel to the mix had upped the weirdness to a whole new level. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, stood and headed for the main deck with slow and steady steps. She needed to talk to Phillip. He needed to remind her why they were marrying. Desperately wanting to know she belonged, she wanted to hear him say he loved her and she would always have a home on Île du Ciel.
The sound of vomiting stopped her. Cami followed the noise to a stack of large crates. After some shifting, she found Cherise on her hands and knees, like a dog, retching into a bucket. Cami watched without speaking.
After a long smelly moment, Cherise sat back on her heels, pulled her hair away from her face and sent Cami a defiant glare.
“What are you doing here?” Cami asked.
“I’m going with you.” Cherise wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “You think the Captain belongs to you, but he doesn’t. He is his own man. You may become the mistress of his home, but I will always be the mistress of his heart.”
“No.” Cami shook her head. “Not possible. I will never share my husband.”
Cherise laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “What makes you think you have a say? You cannot possess a person,” Cherise continued. “A man like the Captain can love as he chooses. You’re a fool if you cannot see this.”
Cami placed her hand on her stomach as if her touch could still the queasiness she felt. Her gaze went to Cherise’s rounded belly.
“You’re pregnant.”
Cherise lifted her chin. “I carry his child, yes.”
“Then…why are you hiding behind these crates?” Cami took in the small bundle of rags on the wooden floor. “You can’t sleep back here. What have you had to eat?”
She grabbed Cherise by the elbow, hauled
her to her feet, and tried to steer her to Phillip’s quarters, but Cherise refused to move.
Cami huffed in disgust. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would you have believed me? Would it have mattered?”
Cami, knowing she had to be stronger than a seasick pregnant woman, tightened her grip on Cherise’s arm and propelled her down the passageway. She opened the door to the Captain’s quarters, pushed Cherise inside, slammed the door, and leaned against it, her mind whirling. Sinking to the floor, she considered what to do next.
She’d have to confront Phillip, of course. Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the painful long-ago memory of her parents’ last argument. Cami put her hands over her ears, not wanting to remember the screaming and yelling. She couldn’t remember the words. She wasn’t even sure if she’d been able to understand them then. But she did remember the pain, her mother’s tears, her father’s unrepentant defiance, and the sound of shattering glass.
Unlike her mom, Cami didn’t need to throw things. She didn’t want to rage, scream or cry. Instead, a calm detachment filled her as she mounted the stairs.
She found Phillip behind the captain’s wheel. He turned when she entered the room, and his welcoming smile faded as he watched her.
“Cherise is on the boat,” she told him. “She’s expecting a baby.”
Phillip didn’t even flinch.
“She says it belongs to you.”
Phillip’s gaze went back out over the water. Dark heavy clouds filled the sky, but rain had yet to fall.
“Is it true?” Cami asked.
Phillip shrugged as if a new life didn’t matter. “It is not improbable.”
Cami braced her feet and placed her hands on her hips. “Are you kidding me?”
Phillip scratched his head. “Is this a double entendre?”
“A what?” Cami’s voice squeaked. “Never mind. Why are you marrying me if she’s having your baby?”
Phillip looked genuinely confused and that made Cami even madder.
“What can Cherise’s child have to do with our marriage?”
“You can’t marry me and sleep with Cherise!”
Phillip blinked several times. “I beg your pardon?” He smiled as if her mounting anger amused him. Coming toward her, he moved to take her in his arms. “I find it inconceivable you are jealous of a black woman.”
“Inconceivable. Nice word choice.” Cami stepped away from him.
“You wish me to promise you complete and utter fidelity?” His voice held laughter.
“Why is that funny?”
“Cherise is a black woman!” he repeated.
“So? She’s still a person.” Cami started to wrench the ring off her finger.
Phillip placed his hand on hers, stopping her. “You will marry me.”
“No, I won’t.”
Phillip tightened his hold on her hand, pulled her to him, and kissed her hard.
Fragments of her parents’ last argument floated back to her. Player, cretin, and oaf were some of the words Mags had hurled at her husband. Later, Cami had asked Mags what cretin meant, and her mom had apologized. “Your dad is not a cretin,” she had said. “That would be insulting to the people of Crete.
Cami had wanted to ask her dad about the people of Crete, because if her dad was from Crete than that meant Cami was part Cretan as well, and she didn’t think that was a good thing.
And neither was this kiss. It held no love, affection, or warmth. Using both hands, Cami pushed him away. With her hand pressed to her lips, she turned and ran back down the stairs.
Sucking in a long breath, she leaned against the wall. The cook pushed past her with a bucket of fish in his hands. Cami fought a wave of nausea. She hung her head, ashamed of her own stupidity. How could she ever have traded her century for this one? She owed a debt of gratitude to her suffragette, pioneer, and immigrant ancestors. She had a rich and boundless future ahead of her because of the battles countless females had fought and won.
Joel, of course, had been right. As always. She liked that about him, but it still made her angry, although more at herself than at him.
She found Joel exactly where she’d left him, lying on the bunk and staring at the ceiling. Glaring down at him, she said, “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Go?” He sat up and braced his hands on his knees. “Where would we go?”
“I don’t know, but we can’t stay here.”
Joel raised an eyebrow. “What changed your mind? Marriage suddenly less appealing?”
“Yes. Now, do you want to come with me, or do you want to stay here?”
Cami followed Joel’s gaze out the window to the endless sea and the threatening clouds. “We’re in the middle of the ocean.”
“Yeah, well, according to you, a few minutes ago we were in the middle of the science room.”
Above them, men began to yell, and footsteps, heavy and urgent, scuttled across the deck, making the ceiling shudder.
“Something’s going on out there,” Joel said.
“Maybe they’re preparing for the storm.”
“So, why do you want to throw yourself overboard and into a storm?”
“Aargh!” Cami picked up her skirts, determined to leave with or without Joel.
“Wait a minute, where are you going?”
“I told you, I’m leaving.”
“Not by yourself!”
“Who’s going to stop me?”
“Your mom would kill you.”
“Yeah, but maybe I’m already dead.”
“You think this is our afterlife?”
Cami shrugged. “It’s as good an explanation as any other.”
Climbing to his feet, Joel looked around the room. “If that’s true, this is really disappointing.”
But Cami didn’t really believe Captain La Fleur’s ship was her divine destiny. There had to be something more than this. Determined to find that something more, she turned away.
“Wait,” Joel said.
“What?” Cami folded her arms and spun to glare at him.
“Are you seriously considering jumping ship?”
She nodded.
“What happened? What changed your mind?”
She lifted one shoulder and hoped she looked nonchalant.
“Something must have happened.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Joel grabbed her arm. “Okay, that’s fair.” He gazed down at her, his expression serious. “I know I can’t stop you from doing something stupid. And make no mistake, jumping off this ship into the middle of the ocean is stupid.”
The heat from his hand warmed her skin. She wondered if he felt it, too.
“Are you saying this will affect my grade?” She tried to sneer, but she wasn’t sure if she pulled it off or not. Given the curling of Joel’s lip into a half smile, she thought not.
His grip eased slightly. Using his thumb, he drew little circles on her upper arm, holding her captive in a way his force and strength never could. “Listen, Cami, I don’t know what we’re doing here. I don’t even know if we’re really here at all. For all I know, I’m lying asleep in my bed dreaming of you, and I have to save you, even if it makes you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you,” she admitted, looking up at the ceiling, trying to process her thoughts. “I just have to get away from here.”
“You know you can’t run away from your problems, right?”
She snorted. “Okay, yeah, but under that logic, I can’t time travel to the Revolutionary War, either.”
“But can you be eaten by sharks? Can you drown?” He dropped her arm, and she missed his warmth.
Cami sunk onto Joel’s cot. “There’s this girl. She worked for Phillip. I guess in more ways than one. She’s expecting his child.”
“And that’s not okay with you?” Joel sat beside her, his shoulder touching hers.
“Of course not.” She turned so she could get a better view of his face.
“You
can’t project our societal norms and morals onto Phillip La Fleur. He’s a product of his time just as you are of yours.”
“Okay, number one, I really hate it when you sound like a grownup.”
“I am a grownup.”
“I’m a grownup.”
Joel shook his head. “No, you’re eighteen. And it’s true in some states that makes you a legal adult, but it doesn’t make you grown up.”
“I think I hate you right now.”
“I don’t believe you.” He sucked in a deep breath. “What’s number two?”
“Huh?”
“You said, number one. Usually, number one is followed by number two.”
“Oh, yeah. Number two: shouldn’t some things always be true? Look at the Ten Commandments, they’ve been around forever.”
“And largely ignored.”
“But that’s not right. Phillip is going to be a dad. That should mean something to him.”
Joel didn’t say anything for a few minutes. “Cami, I know this is none of my business, and if I was just your teacher, I would never bring this up. But since we’re both here, trapped in the eighteenth-century and on this boat, and I don’t even know if I’m talking to you or to my own warped version of you, I have to ask: are you upset with Phillip, or your own dad?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, although she knew exactly what he meant. And she didn’t want to wait for him to explain. Bouncing to her feet, she announced, “I’m not staying here for five more minutes.”
At that moment, a boom filled the air and something hit the ship with such impact that Cami flew across the room. As she landed in a heap, she realized she may be leaving even sooner than she had thought.
CHAPTER 7
Joel flung himself after Cami. She huddled in a corner between two bunks, and his only thought was to protect her from who knew what. Kneeling before her, he shielded her as another blow rocked the ship.
“Do you think that was cannon fire?” Cami whisper, her breath warm against his skin.
“I don’t know,” he said, but he was pretty sure she couldn’t hear him because he couldn’t hear his own voice above a sudden screech of grinding wood.
After a few minutes of prolonged huddling, Cami said, “Smoke.”
He sniffed and realized she was right. The ship was burning.
“We have to leave.” Joel sat up and looked around.