Isle of Broken Years

by Jane Fletcher

  “I promise I’ll watch my mouth in future.”

  However, Kali’s smile broadened. “I don’t mind really. It’s good to hear my own tongue spoken. And anyway, it’s the goat I feel sorry for.”

  Sam gave a shamefaced grin and carried on, but before she had gone two steps, she heard movement.

  Catalina had stood and was following her. “I’m going back to the Barn. May I walk with you, if you’re going in that direction?”

  The request was so unexpected, Sam struggled to find her voice. “Um…yes. You don’t want…” She glanced in Alonzo’s direction.

  “We can let him sleep.”

  This was fine by Sam. They started walking, side by side. “I’m sorry about cussing just now.”

  “I guessed that’s what it was. But I didn’t understand a word. I assume you were talking African?”

  “One of the languages. There’s dozens, maybe hundreds. If anything, Kali knowing it was surprising. And I can’t say much. Just a few handy phrases.”

  “For when you get run over by a caretaker?”

  Sam laughed. “Something like that. We had crew on the Golden Goose picked up from slave ships. They might not have been the most expert sailors, but they were fired up for revenge. What I said just now was what some would shout going into a fight. It’s all I know how to say.”

  “You speak Spanish?”

  “A little. Like with French, German, Dutch—enough to get along with other crew members.” She looked at Catalina. “I don’t speak any of them half as well as you speak English.”

  “I can thank my parents for that.”

  They turned a corner. Their destination was in sight, but a scene of frenzied activity stood between them and the Barn. This must have been where the caretaker had been rushing to. A dozen were hard at work, digging up the path. Flashes of blue light lit the sides of the hole. Smoke drifted out, although the smell was more like rotten cabbages.

  Catalina wrinkled her nose. “What do you think it is?”

  “I don’t know. Probably best to give them a bit of space.” Sam pointed at the row of bushes bordering the path. “We can cut through there.”

  Sam pushed back the leaves. Without thinking, she reached back to offer Catalina assistance over the uneven ground. Catalina took her hand and continued to hold it even after they were on pavement again. Sam’s head was totally scrambled. They walked the short distance remaining in silence, while she struggled to pull her thoughts together.

  Catalina’s hand felt smooth and delicate, although her grip was surprisingly firm. It might be sensible to let go, although Sam did not think she was the one doing the holding. Did Catalina know what she was doing? Did she mean anything by it? And if so, what?

  They stopped at the door. Catalina released Sam’s hand and stepped back. “Thank you for your assistance.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Catalina moved away, not meeting Sam’s eyes, but then she stopped and turned back. “Sam?”

  “Yes?” She felt her heart pounding. What would come next?

  “Alonzo said…”

  Sam clenched her jaw. Nothing good was going to follow from that beginning.

  “He said that, on the pirate ship, there was an incident between you two.”

  Had he admitted taking other men as lovers? If this was the subject on Catalina’s mind, did it have any part to play in them holding hands? The idea died as quickly as it flashed into her head. Alonzo would never confess to Catalina. Sam just nodded.

  “He said you threatened him with a knife.”

  Yes. Of course. That would be the slant he put on the tale. Sam folded her arms, waiting for more.

  “I wondered what you had to say.”

  “What has Alonzo told you?”

  Catalina looked uncomfortable. “You don’t deny it?”

  “Would there be any point?” Sam sighed and took a step back. “You should ask him, but I doubt you’ll get much in the way of an answer.”

  She turned and walked away. Her fingers still tingled. Why had Catalina held her hand for so long? Although, to be honest, she had no idea of courtly manners. Maybe Spanish noblewomen walked around all the time hand in hand. It certainly was not sensible to interpret Catalina’s actions any other way, since with Alonzo in the picture, things were not going to end up looking pretty.

  * * *

  “Bad news, folks. We’re getting low on corn and potatoes.” Liz addressed the room at breakfast. “We need to send a food expedition to the farm tomorrow. Which three are next on the roster?”

  “Me.” Ricardo was the first to speak up.

  Kali was sitting beside him. She pressed their joined hands to her chest. Ricardo slipped free and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her against him. His lips brushed the top of her head. “I’ll be fine, cariño.”

  “Who else?”

  “Me,” Madison said.

  “And me. I think. Maybe it is so.” Piracola looked around anxiously, as if hoping someone would disagree with him.

  “No maybe about it, son.” Charles waved a notebook in the air. “Your name’s on the list.”

  “Don’t we send one of the newbies? I thought we worked them into the roster.”

  “We can,” Liz said. “Usually they get time to settle in, but they’ve been here a fortnight. So, who gets replaced?” she called to Charles.

  He flipped open the notebook again. “Madison.”

  Piracola’s face fell. Clearly, he had been hoping to avoid going.

  Liz faced to the side where Sam was sitting. “We’ll put you three newbies’ names into the hat and draw one out. Then—” She got no further.

  “What! You think to send Doña Catalina into danger? You would have her dig in the fields?” Alonzo’s voice shook with outrage.

  “Only if she wants to eat.”

  “She is not a farmhand. She is a lady and—”

  “She’s one of us, and she takes her chances like the rest. Even Kali won’t get let off the roster for another month or two.”

  “You are—”

  This time it was Catalina who interrupted. “No. Liz is right. I’m not…” A pink flush rose on her cheeks. “I don’t want any special treatment.”

  Still Alonzo would not shut up. Sam felt a rush of annoyance. Could the fool not see he was embarrassing Catalina?

  “My lady, please do not be so…so…” Alonzo turned to Liz. “If you will not stop this barbaric nonsense, I demand we do not play with drawing names. I will go.”

  “Wait up there.” Sam was not going to let Alonzo run away with the award for chivalry, when Catalina was involved. “I’m game for this as well. It can be between him and me.”

  “I spoke first.”

  The argument held the promise of becoming very childish, very quickly. “Then we can both go.” Sam turned to Liz. “As long as that doesn’t cause a problem.”

  “No. No problem at all, dear. You’ll be able to carry more back.” Liz clapped her hands together. “Okay, so there’ll be four going. Piracola, Ricardo, Sam, and Alonzo.” She smiled at them grimly. “Stay safe, guys.”

  * * *

  Dawn was turning the horizon yellow and orange when they assembled on the quay the next morning. With Charles’s advice, Sam had packed the things she would need the previous night. Her rucksack contained a machete, empty sacks, a whistle, a medical bag, and enough food and water to last two days. She dropped it in the Inflatable and yawned. The other tools they needed were stored at the farm.

  Alonzo was already waiting when Sam arrived. He turned his back as soon as he saw her. Ricardo was busy, making his good-byes to Kali. The pair stood a short way off, arms wrapped around each other. Kali’s head was on his shoulder, her eyes closed. With nothing else to do, Sam watched the sunrise.

  Piracola trotted up, yawning. “Sorry. I slept for too long.”

  He hopped into the rear of the Inflatable and started adjusting the outboard motor. Sam sat beside him, and Alonzo went to
the front. Ricardo was last in. He broke away from Kali after a last kiss.

  “Right. Off we go.” He looked back. “I’ll be back soon, cariño. Don’t worry.”

  Kali stepped back from the edge as the outboard motor ripped into the early morning peace. “Full throttle” was the phrase Torvold had used on the salvage trip. The boat sped away across the water, leaving Kali as a lone figure on the quay, waving.

  The early morning air was chill. Sam held the neck of her shirt to keep out the breeze, and peered into the water, trying to see through the bow wave. Once, she caught a glint of movement under the surface, multiple forms, moving swiftly, chasing the boat. A rush of ice prickles flowed down Sam’s spine, and she turned her attention to the approaching shoreline.

  The jungle looked darker and denser than Sam remembered. Piracola silenced the outboard motor, and the Inflatable coasted the final few yards, until it bumped against the rock jetty. Ricardo picked up his pack and jumped ashore, followed by Sam, then Alonzo. Piracola was last, holding the mooring rope.

  “Right, we’ll—”

  Leaves along the shore flapped in a sudden gust of wind. A tremor ran through the ground, and up Sam’s legs. The light dimmed. Who reacted first?

  “She’s jumping,” Ricardo shouted.

  Sam looked up at a gunmetal sky. The wind strengthened, buffeting them, and a second stronger jolt made the ground buck.

  “No! She’s—” Piracola’s words changed to a broken stream in a language Sam did not know, but she did not need a translation.

  Piracola was crouched down, stretching out to grab the rope floating away from him. A third shock kicked the ground from under Sam’s feet. She landed on her knees. Piracola also fell forward. His chest hit the rock and his arm plunged, elbow deep, into the water. In an instant, Ricardo was at his side, hauling him back.

  As Piracola’s hand cleared the sea, a rush of water chased it upward. The rising wave separated around silver fangs set in a lipless mouth, and then splashed back. A razor fin broke the surface of the water and vanished.

  Piracola knelt on the rock, holding his hand against his chest. A dark trickle of blood ran down his wrist and dripped onto the rock. “I’m okay. Just a scratch. But the boat…”

  The Inflatable was now thirty feet from shore, driven by the swirling gusts. Yet already the world was settling. The light hardened into black and white. The wind dropped and the ground became steady. Sam looked up again. The gray had gone, replaced by the black of night, strewn with stars. A full moon hung overhead.

  “We’re stranded.” Sam fought to keep the fear from her voice, although her stomach had turned to ice.

  “It won’t be for long. We’ll be okay,” Ricardo said. “When we don’t return, the others will come looking for us.”

  “They won’t give us up for dead?”

  “Kali won’t.” He spoke with certainty. “I don’t think the others will either. Can you imagine Torvold forgetting the Inflatable? We just need to stay safe until then.”

  Safe. “The hunters will be out soon.” Sam remembered the warnings.

  “Yes. So we need to get to a roost as quickly as possible.”

  “Where’s the nearest one?”

  “Not far.”

  Piracola got to his feet, still cradling his hand.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Ricardo asked him.

  “Yes. Yes.” Piracola shook out his arm and cast one last vengeful look at the departing boat. “I’ll lead.”

  Piracola might seem immature at times, and Sam had noted his command of English was not as good as Yaraha’s, but no one could fault his woodcraft skills. She had no idea how he navigated through the jungle. Even with a full moon, the darkness under the canopy of trees was total. Piracola moved like a ghost, whereas the cracks of twigs under her own feet were like thunderclaps. Sam had trouble merely following his lead. All the time her ears were trained for the sound of clicking.

  Sam ran into Ricardo’s back. He had stopped. “This is it. We’re here.”

  She heard the rasp of rope being untied, and then the creak as someone began to climb. Soon they were all sitting on a platform identical to the one where she had met Charles, Yaraha, and Torvold. The moonlight was stronger in the treetops, enough for Sam to see the others.

  Ricardo settled back on his elbows and sighed. “Do you know what’s the second worst thing about time jumps?”

  “What?” Piracola asked.

  “The jet lag. How do I persuade my body it’s not morning anymore, and it would be a good idea to sleep?”

  “Why do you call that jet lag?”

  “It’s because of—” Ricardo broke off, then dropped his voice to a whisper. “Of course there is the very worst thing.”

  Then Sam heard it too, coming softly from the forest floor, some way off, but getting closer.

  “Tck-tck. Tck. Tck-tck-tck.”

  “Thank the good Lord. We made it in time. Now, everyone, hush.”

  * * *

  Sam lay awake all night. Judging by the restless shifting, the others fared no better. Then her eyelids grew heavy just as the sun was rising.

  Piracola muttered and sat up. “What are we to do today?”

  Ricardo sighed. “We can stay here and try to sleep, or we can go to the farm as planned.”

  “Is it safe?”

  “Is it ever? But people won’t be expecting us back for a day, so they won’t come searching. And if we don’t get the food now, we’ll have to come back another time. I’d rather be finished with it.”

  Sam looked over the edge of the roost. The forest floor was emerging from the darkness. Nothing was moving. “I think the hunters have gone.”

  “For now. So, do we want to vote on the farm?”

  Surprisingly, Alonzo was first to speak. “I am for the farm. I wish to be done as soon as I can. Doña Catalina may be in need of my aid.”

  With what? Sam bit her tongue and merely nodded.

  “Okay. The farm it is.”

  Once again, Piracola took the lead. Sam and Ricardo walked behind him, side by side, and Alonzo hung back at the rear. Sam glanced over her shoulder and was rewarded with another angry glare. If she promised to keep his guilty secret, would it improve matters between them? Did she care enough to make the effort? Sam sighed.

  “What is it?” Ricardo asked.

  “Oh, nothing.” Alonzo’s opinion was not worth worrying about. “Ricardo. That’s a good name. My father was also called Richard.”

  “You said was?”

  “Yes. He died, a year ago…well, it was a year when I arrived here. You know what I mean.”

  “Yes. And I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Was your father still alive?”

  Ricardo’s lips twisted in an expression of contempt. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. He left my mother when I was a child. Abandoned us. And even when he lived with us, he was rarely sober enough to do more than kick me out of his way.”

  “Then I’m sorry for what you never had.” Pa might have been a prize drunkard, but Sam had never doubted his love for her.

  “Jorge is six years older than me. He’s been a better father. Always he has looked out for me and our sisters.”

  “How many sisters?”

  “Three.” Ricardo grimaced. “Of course, I wonder what became of them. I pray they found good husbands.”

  “How old were you when your father left?”

  “Seven. Jorge was thirteen. Too young to become the man of the household. I know he can seem foolish, with his dreams of escaping and becoming a millionaire, but you must remember where we come from.” Ricardo’s voice dropped. “I remember him trying to be a man, trying not to cry when he couldn’t put food on the table for us. He’d tell us stories, promises of all the money he’d bring home one day. We were going to live in a mansion on our own private island. We were going to have cars, and boats, and maids to do all the work.”

  “Is that what made him turn to smuggling?”
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  “Of course. What other way is there to become rich in Honduras?”

  “He talked you into joining him?”

  “No. I don’t think it was what he wanted. But once the drug lords get their claws in you, your options become limited.”

  “Drug lords?”

  “The big criminals who control the drug trade.”

  Sam frowned in thought. “You mean drugs like opium?”

  “Yes. Though things have moved on from there.”

  “Did the custom’s men put a high tax on it?”

  Ricardo laughed. “All trade in drugs was completely banned.”

  “Really?” Sam shrugged. “Wasn’t in my day. Why was it illegal?”

  “People become addicted. People take too much and die. People are so wasted, lying in the street they cannot go and do a day’s work.”

  “I’d heard opium can be dangerous, the same as rum and beer. Folk in my time would have said it was your own lookout for taking it in the first place.”

  “It isn’t so simple. The angriest Jorge has ever been with me was the day he caught me sampling the merchandise. He cried. He would not cry as a child, when he could not feed us, but he cried that day and made me swear I would never do it again. He did not want me to end up a shambling fool like our father.”

  “Would you have made your fortune as smugglers?”

  “No. We were small fish. We made enough money to flash around at home, but never enough to get away. Before long we would have been caught, and then spent many years, rotting in jail, if we weren’t killed by a rival gang.”

  “Then maybe it’s not so bad you came here.”

  A smile of pure joy spread over Ricardo’s face. “No. Because if I had not come to Atlantis, I would not have met Kali. I love her so much.”

  “And she loves you.”

  “Yes. But I don’t know why. I’m not clever, or brave, or handsome, yet she says she sees all that in me.”

  “We use to say that love is blind.”

  “Ha! We still do.”

  “Though I don’t think Kali has to be completely blind in your case.”

  “I don’t know. When I think of what was done to her. I’m amazed she’s willing to let any man touch her.” Ricardo’s voice grew hard. “You know her story?”