Isle of Broken Years

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Isle of Broken Years Page 13

by Jane Fletcher


  The cockpit turned out to be a tiny room at the front of the seaplane, with two leather strap chairs and more dials, levers, knobs, and buttons than Sam had ever seen collected in one place.

  “Why do you call it a cockpit?”

  “Because that’s what it’s called.”

  What other reason was there for any name? “You and Charles would have sat here together, all the way around the world?”

  “That was the plan.”

  “It’s small for two people.”

  “I know. It’s a good thing we get on so well. Though I don’t doubt we’d have fallen out once or twice before we got halfway to China.”

  “Fallen out of the seaplane?”

  “No silly. Fallen out with each other.” Babs giggled and flipped a small lever. A hiss like an angry cat filled the room. “Static. I keep hoping.”

  “For what?”

  “It’s a radio. It allows me to talk to people far away. Or would, if the interference cleared.” She ran her hand over a bank of dials, as if stroking a pet, or a lover. “It’s so sad to see her earthbound. This baby was born to fly. Come on. Let’s go back outside.”

  They returned to the quay. Babs plonked herself down, with her legs dangling over the edge.

  Sam joined her. “What’s that in the middle? It’s not a real mountain, is it?”

  “Is anything here real?”

  “It looks like a tower, but how can any building be that big?”

  “You should see the skyscrapers in New York.”

  “The what?”

  “Big buildings. Maybe not wide as this one, but just as high.”

  “Do you know what’s inside?”

  “No. Folks have paddled over, but it rises sheer from the water. No doors. No windows. No way in.”

  They sat in silence for three seconds, which, Sam had learned, was as long as silence could last with Babs around.

  “Do you know what I’d really like right now?”

  Sam could not begin to guess. “What?”

  “A cigarette. God, how I miss them.”

  “Cigarette?”

  “Tobacco.”

  “I don’t know how it matches a cigarette, but there’s tobacco and a couple of clay pipes in the salvage we brought back this afternoon.”

  Babs squealed in delight and threw an arm around Sam’s waist. “You’re a gem among women. Do you know that?”

  Sam freed herself. “Thanks, I guess.”

  “I don’t suppose you had champagne as well?”

  “Champagne?”

  “Fizzy wine.”

  “No. But we found some bottles of rum.”

  “And a dead man’s chest?”

  “That’s not a serious question, is it?”

  “No.” Babs sighed, then picked up a pebble and tossed it into the water. “It’s a shame. I had it all planned. A triumphant return. My name in the record books. All the papers there, taking photos.”

  “Papers?”

  “You know, newspapers.”

  Sam did not know. Was it worth asking what photos were? She let it go.

  “I named her the Okeechobee Dawn because we took off from Lake Okeechobee and flew into the dawn sky. We were going to keep flying east until we saw dawn rise over Okeechobee again.” For once, Babs voice was serious. “Mostly east, anyway. First stage was to New York before the Atlantic crossing. We barely got out of sight of land when everything went haywire.”

  “What made you decide to do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Fly around the world.”

  “It’s all Amelia Earhart’s fault.”

  “What did she do?”

  “Inspired me. I heard her give a talk and wanted to give it a go. Charles was assigned to the Air Service during the Great War. He was just a tad too old to be a pilot, but he was taught how to fly. I nagged him into giving me lessons and Pops into buying me a secondhand seaplane.” She tilted her head to Sam. “At this point you’re supposed to say ‘Rich Pops.’ Which he was.”

  “Who’s Pops?”

  “My father. What did you call yours?”

  “Pa.”

  “Don’t suppose either of us will see them again.”

  “I won’t for sure. My pa’s dead.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s been a year. An outbreak of ship fever. I’m lucky I survived.” Did death have to be the final word? Sam toyed with the fantasy of leaving the island and timing it to find Pa again, as a young man. Not that there was any way to arrange it.

  “Do you have other family?” Babs asked.

  “No. Ma died when I was a baby. I don’t remember her at all. Aunt Wilmot looked after me, until she died too.”

  “Wilmot. Now there’s a girl’s name you don’t hear anymore. Is Sam short for Samantha?”

  “No. I was Sarah as a baby. Samantha wasn’t a name in Devon when I was born. Pa called me Sam when he took me to sea with him. It could have been short for Samuel. I don’t know if he thought about it.” Pa had not been the thinking kind. “Is Babs short for something?”

  “Barbara. Barbara Helen Vera Maria Weinberg.”

  “That’s quite a lot to shorten.”

  “You can say that again.”

  Was this a genuine request? Before Sam could ask, she was interrupted by a shout.

  “Hey.” Madison trotted toward them. “Can I hide with you?” She sat without waiting for an answer.

  “Who are you hiding from?” Sam asked.

  “Guess.”

  Babs gave a snort of laughter. “Jorge or Piracola.”

  “Jorge has reset his sights on Catalina, so Piracola is stepping up the moves. He’s been hitting on me for the last hour straight.”

  Babs elbowed Sam. “Would you like a translation on that?”

  “A hint would be nice.” Sam had an idea what Madison meant, but wanted to be sure.

  “Women have always been outnumbered on Atlantis. Not so much from recent times, but the earlier centuries give a big imbalance. Before you arrived, there was just us two, plus Liz and Kali. Anyone nominally female, who’s got at least one of her own teeth left in her head, ends up with a string of admirers. And if she’s young and pretty, it could turn into a free-for-all.”

  Young and pretty described Catalina well enough. Just as well Alonzo was taking his guard duties seriously and had retrieved her clothes.

  Babs continued. “Don’t say we didn’t warn you if you turn around and find you’ve got a line standing behind you. Although maybe you can play the pirate thing and scare them off.”

  “You know, you being a pirate. That is just so cool,” Madison cut in. “I used to have a mega-crush on Johnny Depp.”

  “A crush?” Sam asked.

  “I thought he was ultra sexy.”

  “He was your lover?”

  “Don’t be silly. He was a film star.”

  If she asked Madison what a film star was, would she end up any wiser? They must play a part in astrology, and that was never a straightforward topic. She turned to something easier. “You don’t find either Jorge or Piracola attractive?”

  “Jorge is fun, but I don’t one hundred percent trust him. He comes on friendly, but he’s only out for number one. Piracola is, like, thirty going on three. I want a grown-up. With him, I’d feel I had to be wiping his nose and making sure he’s been to the bathroom.” Madison pursed her lips. “Yaraha is more my style. He’s always thinking. Except you never know what he’s thinking about. Which is kinda cool on one level, but scary on another. Torvold is just plain batshit crazy. Ricardo’s been taken, and I don’t move in on other girls’ boyfriends. Can’t say much about Alonzo yet, except he’s too old. Horatio has the sexy British accent going for him, but not much else. I mean, like, don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice guy, but not my idea of hot. Floyd would be really cute if he was twenty years younger—”

  “And wasn’t gay,” Babs said.

  “What’s wrong with being gay? Isn’t that good? Or i
s it another slang term?” Sam was confused.

  “It’s slang. A term I’ve picked up from Madison,” Babs said. “It means he’s only into other guys.”

  Sam thought for a moment. “You mean a backroom man?”

  Babs and Madison dissolved in fits of laughter. Madison patted Sam’s shoulder. “That’s it, sister, you got it.”

  “It doesn’t shock you?” Babs asked.

  “I’ve spent my life at sea. After a few months with no women around…well, none they know of, most men aren’t so particular, especially after sharing a bottle of rum.”

  Again, Babs and Madison shrieked with laughter.

  “It doesn’t bother you either?” Sam asked.

  Madison shook her head. “All that crap is so done with. The only people who get their panties in a wad are, like, the Fundamentalists.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “And who gives a flying fuck about them?”

  “I was one of the bright young things.” Babs shrugged. “You know, anything goes.”

  Sam thought of saying something about Alonzo, but regardless of how they might respond, she would keep his secret.

  Madison said. “My friends Dave and Bobby were gay. I was, like, visiting them during summer break. Bobby’s friends had a boat and said they’d take us to the Bahamas. We were in the middle of the ocean when the island popped out of nowhere. We almost sank right then. If we’d had any sense we’d have turned around pronto. But we’d been smoking weed and everything was a giggle.” She drew a deep breath. “Anyway. It was a shame, because Dave and Bobby had just got engaged. So you see, when I come from, gays can even marry. It’s all cool.”

  About half of it made sense. Sam turned to Babs. “You and Charles aren’t married, are you?” She noticed his name had been left off Madison’s list.

  “Oh, no. He’s a sweetheart, but he’s just a family friend. My mom and his wife go way back.” The laughter left Babs’s face. “I bullied him into the flight. I knew he didn’t want to leave Clara and his family. It was just me being…” She shrugged. “It was what I wanted to do. So I went for it.”

  “Your parents didn’t object?”

  “I’m an adult. My parents didn’t get a say. Well, Pops could have refused the money, but he knew I wouldn’t talk to him for months if he tried it.”

  “They didn’t insist on a chaperone?”

  Babs’s smile returned. “It was the twentieth century. Women were free to do what they wanted.”

  “But not as free as they were by my time. The pill saw to that,” Madison said.

  “Which pill?”

  “The pill. Like, take one each morning and you’ll never get pregnant, no matter what you do.” Madison pouted. “It puts a damper on things here. Makes me think twice. Giving birth without a doc on hand. I just hope it goes okay for Kali.” She perked up. “So come on. I’ve given my view of the talent on offer. Who do you get the hots for?”

  Babs thought for a moment. “Torvold. I like crazy.”

  “And you?” She turned to Sam.

  “I’m—” Sam stopped with her mouth open and no idea what she was going to say.

  “Are you gay? It’s not like I’m making assumptions, what with you passing as a boy. Well, maybe I am a bit. So are you?”

  “Can women be gay?”

  “Of course they can.”

  So was she? It was not as if the idea had never crossed her mind before. However, her only experience was the whores outside brothels, trying to attract business. The sight of the women, kissing and fondling each other’s breasts, had stirred up the other sailors, but to Sam it had seemed crudely false. She had been repulsed not attracted and had wanted nothing to do with it. Then she had met Catalina and the doubts had come back, full force. Maybe kissing another woman would not seem so sleazy and empty without the chorus of jeering sailors.

  “I don’t know.”

  “How can you not know?”

  Babs wrapped an arm around Madison and shook her in mock wrestling. “Maddy, you’re trampling across the centuries. Give Sam a chance. She only just got here. You should allow her at least three days to catch up with five centuries of social change.”

  “Careful. You don’t want to fall in.” Sam peered at the water under their feet. There was no sign of piranhas, but they did not sound like something you wanted to take chances with.

  “You’re right.” Babs released Madison and scooted back from the edge. “I’m going to clean up before dinner. It was fun talking to you ladies. Catch you later.”

  “You too.” Madison also got to her feet, then bent down to bring her head level with Sam’s. “When you do work it out, let me know.” She held up her hands. “Not that I’m interested in that way. Girls are just for friends with me. But I’m nosy.”

  Left alone, Sam sat staring over the water. For the first time in her life, she had sat as a woman, chatting with other women. It had been fun, if more than a little confusing. Questions whirled in her head. Softly, for her own benefit, Sam whispered, “Madison, if you work it out first, can you tell me?”

  * * *

  When Sam left the Okeechobee Dawn, the sun was sinking, covering the scene with golden light. The only sounds were the cries of seabirds and the slap of waves against the quay. With evening approaching, a light breeze took the edge off the heat.

  Sam was getting used to purple grass. It no longer looked quite so garish, and the scent of the flowers was sweet and clean. She should give up thinking and just enjoy life. With all its dangers, Atlantis was an improvement on the Golden Goose. The people were friendly, she was free to be herself, and the food was better.

  Sam was passing the building where Catalina and Alonzo had taken lodgings, when the door whooshed open. Catalina stood there, dressed in the pale blue gown she had worn when she came ashore.

  She looked startled. Her hand moved, as if to close the door again, but froze before she completed the action. She was clearly caught between conflicting impulses. Then, in an instant, Catalina’s composure returned. Her shoulders went back; her chin went up. Her face adopted its normal mask of calm detachment.

  Catalina left the building, advancing sedately up the path. Her bearing was so perfect, Sam was left to wonder if she had imagined the moment of uncertainty.

  “Good evening, Sam.”

  “Good evening, Catalina.” Sam was surprised at how steady her own voice sounded. “You look…” Nice? Was that really what she wanted to say? “More like yourself.”

  “It was good of Alonzo to think of me.”

  Having said all that politeness required, Sam expected Catalina to now ignore her and walk away. Catalina had made it clear she felt nothing but scorn for the entire crew of the Golden Goose. Yet, amazingly, she stayed, while a hint of her unease returned. Something must have been on her mind. Awkward seconds passed.

  “Are you—”

  “Did the—”

  They both started talking at the same time.

  “Please, go on. You were about to ask something,” Sam said.

  “Just whether you’re finding life here agreeable?”

  Just that? Where was this going? “Um…yes. Apart from things trying to kill me. But that’s not so much of a change.”

  Catalina’s face softened in a smile. The effect on Sam was immediate. Her heart leapt. Her hands broke into a sweat. Suddenly, she remembered just how much she wanted Catalina to like her. This was followed by a vision of the whores’ cheap show. She had to be very careful, at least until she had sorted out where she stood. The sensible thing was to make her excuses and leave. Catalina was clearly putting effort into improving things between them. Sam knew if she stayed she was likely to say or do something stupid and ruin any hope of that happening. Yet, for once, Sam had no intention of being sensible.

  “It’s all new for me, or it was until I encountered your former shipmates. My life was very safe before then.”

  “I…” Sam swallowed. Apologizing would sound feeble or insincere and possibly both. She
could hardly claim it had all happened by accident.

  “You were going to ask something of me,” Catalina said.

  “Only whether you had learned anything from the Greek writings.”

  “Oh, that. It was—” The sound of footsteps interrupted her.

  Alonzo strode toward them. “Doña Catalina, please allow me to escort you to dinner.” He spoke in Spanish, while glaring at Sam. “I trust no one has been bothering you? A noble lady should not have to endure the foul manners of ruffians.”

  This was much easier to deal with. Sam smiled. “Better foul manners and a pure heart than the other way around, wouldn’t you say?”

  She was amused by his surprised expression. Did he think she only spoke English? Alonzo quickly controlled his features, but this was obviously just a thin mask over fury and fear. “What would you know of purity?”

  “Enough to see through it, when something nasty is hiding underneath.” Sam walked away.

  So much for just enjoying life.

  Chapter Seven

  Had she just made a fool of herself? Catalina watched Sam disappear behind a row of tall, bladed shrubs. What was it about her? Catalina closed her eyes, exasperated with herself. From the moment she had learned the supposed cabin boy was actually a woman, she had not been able to get Sam out of her mind. Why? Sam was still a pirate and a thief. What difference did her sex make?

  “Doña Catalina?” Alonzo was trying to catch her attention.

  “Yes?”

  “My lady, I trust that…” Alonzo paused, clearly hunting for the right word, “that ruffian said nothing to disturb you.”

  “No. We were just talking.” Catalina put a hand on his arm. “Thank you for your concern. But our situation means we must put the past behind us, as far as is wise.”

  “Then be wise. You cannot trust her.”

  “I don’t.” Annoyingly, that was part of the attraction.

  “She’s a liar.”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  “My lady…” Alonzo was pleading with her.

  “What is it?”

  “Of all the foul villains, she’s the last I would have wanted here with us.”

 

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