“We sort of are,” said Corey. “Aren’t we?” He released his slingshot and hit a tree.
“We’re not lunatics,” said Mrs. Hudson. “We’re being cautious. All vehicles that approach the vineyard must be treated as a threat.”
“I just wonder how cautious we can be before we scare away every delivery truck in the county,” said Mr. Hudson.
Matt scanned the surrounding property. He’d seen very few cars in all the times he’d come to visit. The only vehicle in sight was an orange, rusty Volkswagen bus that sat in the empty field on the other side of the vineyard. It belonged to Chuck, Gaga’s old farm manager. It didn’t run, hadn’t in decades, but Chuck refused to get rid of it. He was an odd duck, from what Matt had heard. The kids had never actually met him. They’d barely seen him from a distance since they’d come. Their dad said he was a bit of a hermit. Anyway, Gaga hated Chuck’s orange bus, said it was a blemish on her beautiful vineyard. Matt had seen his mom glance nervously in the bus’s direction more than once. Perhaps it was the hood ornament. It did look eerily close to the symbol of the Vermillion. Even Matt had given it a double look when he’d first seen it.
Other than that, there were no other cars in sight, working or otherwise. Gaga didn’t drive and had all her groceries and supplies delivered. The Hudsons had rented a car to drive to Gaga’s and promptly had it picked up by the rental company upon their arrival.
Matt couldn’t help but feel a sting of disappointment that it hadn’t been the Vermillion coming toward the house. It’s not that he wanted to be kidnapped by Captain Vincent again, but if he did come, they’d have a chance to change things. They could steal the Obsidian Compass back from Captain Vincent. They could rescue Jia.
But he was stuck, useless, powerless. They couldn’t do anything except wait and wonder and worry.
Matt rubbed at his wrist where he used to wear a bracelet. The stone in the bracelet had some mysterious connection to the Vermillion or the Obsidian Compass. Once, he’d been able to call the Vermillion back after he and Corey and Ruby had been discarded themselves. But he had lost the bracelet during their fight at the museum.
“What if Captain Vincent does show up?” Ruby asked. “What then?”
“Attack!” said Corey, standing on the porch railing. “I still think you should let me get a gun. We won’t stand a chance in battle without one.” Corey had tried every method possible to convince their parents that he should have a gun, to no avail.
“We will not attack,” said Mrs. Hudson. “If there’s any indication that the Vermillion is approaching, then you will do exactly as your father or I say. Is that clear?”
“Aye aye, Captain!” said Corey. He swung around the porch column and saluted Mrs. Hudson.
“So next time, when we tell you to stay inside, you stay inside,” said Mr. Hudson.
“Aye aye . . . other-Captain!”
“Corey, get down from there before you break your neck.”
Corey jumped down and saluted again. “Aye—”
“And please don’t call me captain,” said Mrs. Hudson. “I’m your mother, thank you very much.”
Corey slumped. “Okay, if you want to be boring, I guess . . .”
“Where is Captain Vincent?” Matt asked. He figured this was as good a time as any to get some questions answered. “Are you keeping track on Dad’s map?”
Mr. and Mrs. Hudson shared a look, which annoyed Matt. It was like they had their own silent language now, one he’d never be able to learn.
“The Vermillion hasn’t been anywhere near us since it left the museum that day,” said Mr. Hudson. Matt thought he was avoiding saying Captain Vincent’s name on purpose, like it was a curse word or something.
“But where did he go right after he left us?” Matt asked. If Captain Vincent discarded Jia, he wanted to know exactly where and when. Not that he could do anything about it.
“It’s not always easy to tell,” said Mr. Hudson. “Especially if he comes and goes rather quickly. The markings tend to fade more quickly then. He did travel somewhere in West Africa. Fourteenth century. Mali Empire.”
“What’s he doing there, do you think?” Matt asked.
“Probably stealing more of Mansa Musa’s gold,” said Mrs. Hudson, bitterly.
“Who’s Mansa Musa?” Corey asked. “He sounds cool.”
“King of the Mali Empire back then,” said Mrs. Hudson. “One of the richest men to have ever lived. Probably the richest man to have ever lived. He had so much gold he gave it out like candy.”
“Yeah, I knew he sounded awesome,” said Corey.
“What do you mean Captain Vincent’s stealing more of Mansa Musa’s gold?” Ruby asked, looking pointedly at her mother. “Sounds like you have knowledge of this happening before. Did you ever steal some of it?”
Mrs. Hudson raised her eyebrows at her daughter. Mr. Hudson chuckled. “She takes after you, Belamie. Can’t sneak anything past her.”
Mrs. Hudson straightened herself. “I stole from Mansa Musa, yes. I stole from a lot of people.”
Ruby gasped. “Mom!”
“What? I was a very different person then. And I’m not so sure you have room to get all high and mighty about it, missy. Are you telling me you didn’t steal anything while on board the Vermillion?”
Ruby’s face heated a bit. “That was different. We weren’t in charge. And besides, you’re our mother. No one expects their mother to be a thief.”
“Pirate, actually,” said Corey. “And a total badass with a blade.”
“Corey!” said Mrs. Hudson.
Mr. Hudson put one of his large hands over Corey’s head and shook it a little. “Hey, watch your mouth, mister.”
Corey put up his hands in surrender. “What? I’m just trying to give Mom some dignity!”
“Thank you, chéri,” said Mrs. Hudson. “Remember when I wash out your mouth with soap that I’m just trying to give you some manners.”
“Manners-shmanners,” Corey mumbled. “No one wants to have any fun around here.”
“Speaking of blades,” said Ruby, holding out her sprinkler stick. “You still haven’t given me any sword lessons and you promised!”
“I’m sorry, Ruby,” said Mrs. Hudson, “it’s just . . . I’ve been a little distracted, trying to get everything settled here and at home and with work. Besides, I’m not sure how I would explain to your grandmother that I’ve suddenly become a fencing master. That’s not a piece of background information your father shared with her before we married.”
Mr. Hudson snorted. “That and a few other minor details.”
“At least you can trust your mother,” grumbled Ruby. “My mother is a thief and a liar.” Ruby had been asking Mrs. Hudson for a fencing lesson at least twice a day since they’d returned from the Vermillion, and every time their mom put it off, Ruby got just a tad more sassy with her. Matt thought she was walking a fine line, possibly crossing it.
“Ruby,” said Mr. Hudson, “cut your mom some slack, please. She’s an excellent mother. She feeds you and clothes you and, despite her shady past, has taught you right from wrong, which ironically is why you’re giving her such a hard time now.”
Matt felt the conversation was slipping. There was so much he wanted to ask, so much he needed to know. “So why are you afraid Captain Vincent will come after us again?” said Matt.
“Excuse me?” said Mrs. Hudson.
“Well, he already got what he wanted, didn’t he? He got that letter, so why would he come after us again?” During their battle at the Met, Captain Vincent had sent one of his crew to break into their mother’s safe and steal a box that contained a letter. A letter from the inventor of the Obsidian Compass, Marius Quine. Matt assumed that’s what he had been searching for all along and now that he had it, he’d leave them alone, but their parents’ behavior would suggest otherwise.
“Because . . . ,” said Mrs. Hudson, clearly stalling to answer, “the letter doesn’t give enough information for him to get wha
t he wants.”
“And you have the rest of the information?” said Matt.
Mrs. Hudson pursed her lips. “I don’t,” she said. “But Vincent will think otherwise.”
Matt stared at his mother until she looked away. He didn’t think she was lying, but he was certain she wasn’t telling him everything.
“And what does Captain Vincent want?” asked Ruby. “You never told us. Like what is his end goal?”
Mrs. Hudson fumbled for words. “He’s looking for . . . something.”
“Something to fix the Obsidian Compass,” said Matt. That had been their main mission while on board the Vermillion. They were to help Captain Vincent find something or someone to make the Obsidian Compass work properly.
“No, it’s something different than the compass,” said Mrs. Hudson.
“What is it?” Ruby asked.
Mrs. Hudson took a deep breath, held it, and then let it out slowly. “He’s looking for a . . . powerful thing. Something that will supposedly give you . . . more power than just the Obsidian Compass.”
“Wow, Mom,” said Corey. “That was, like, so illuminating and yet . . . not.”
Matt glanced at Ruby who rolled her eyes. Was it any wonder why they’d resorted to sneaking around and eavesdropping? Matt thought. Their parents had promised to be truthful, and yet Matt had gotten the sense that they were trying to tell them only as much as they absolutely had to. It seemed to be a game for them. Answer the question as truthfully as possible, but also as vaguely as possible.
“I’m sorry,” said Mrs. Hudson, “but I don’t have that much information to offer. I’ve never seen it. I don’t even know what it is exactly, or if it even truly exists. We had very little to go off of when I was on the Vermillion. Like I said, the letter from Quine is incomplete.”
“Wait a second,” said Corey. “You mean you were looking for the ‘powerful thing’ too, before you quit being Captain Bonnaire?”
Mrs. Hudson pressed the poker into the porch and twisted, digging into the wood. “I did search for it, once upon a time, but I didn’t get very far before I decided it was a fool’s errand, and misguided, like searching for the Fountain of Youth or the Holy Grail. It seems important, but really, it’s just a distraction from what’s actually important. So I stopped searching.”
“But what if Captain Vincent found the ‘powerful thing’?” Matt asked. “Would it be important then? Would we be in danger?”
Mr. and Mrs. Hudson shared a brief look.
“Does Captain Vincent want to kill us?” Ruby asked in a soft voice.
“No!” said Mrs. Hudson. She embraced Ruby with one arm while still holding the poker in the other. “No, no, chérie, that is not what he wants.”
“Does he want to kill Dad?” Matt asked. In all the fighting at the Met, it had come to light that not only had Mrs. Hudson been a time pirate and the captain of the Vermillion, she had also been involved with Captain Vincent. Matt didn’t like to think of him as his mom’s old boyfriend, because that was weird, but that’s pretty much what he was. In any case, it was clear he did not take the news of her abandoning him to marry another man very well.
“He probably does want to kill me,” said Mr. Hudson, “but I think he knows that wouldn’t do any good. It wouldn’t win back your mother.”
“What if he killed you in the past?” Matt asked. “Before you and Mom met?”
Again, his parents shared a look. “I have a strong suspicion that he’s tried,” said Mr. Hudson. “So far it seems he was unsuccessful.”
“It’s not always wise to attempt such drastic actions anyway,” said Mrs. Hudson. “It’s tempting, of course. When you have that kind of power you think you can change the world. I thought so when I first got the compass, but I learned early on that sometimes when you try to interfere with what you know has occurred or will occur, you end up hurting more than helping. Vincent knows this.”
Matt wondered what things his mom had tried to interfere with, what she’d hurt more than helped, but it felt like a personal question, and it wasn’t what he was most curious about anyway.
“But what if Captain Vincent finds what he’s looking for?” said Matt. “What if he gets the ‘powerful thing’? Will he be able to change things then?”
His mom stumbled to answer, when suddenly the porch door opened, and Gaga poked her head out. She surveyed the scene curiously over her glasses. “Am I interrupting a family meeting?”
Mrs. Hudson seemed to release all the tension in her body, clearly relieved to have the interruption.
“No, of course not, Mom,” said Mr. Hudson. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes, I just came to see if my groceries had arrived. Oh, there they are. Jerry usually brings them inside.”
“We’ll bring them in for you,” said Mr. Hudson.
“Thank you, dear. I was just going to start on dinner.”
“Oh, don’t trouble yourself, Gloria,” said Mrs. Hudson. “I’ll take care of dinner.”
Gaga eyed the fire poker in Mrs. Hudson’s hand. “Were you planning to hunt and kill dinner yourself, dear?”
Mrs. Hudson lifted the poker and twirled it around as only an expert swordswoman could. “I was thinking about it.”
“Fabulous! I’ll get the wine.” Gaga went inside.
“We can’t talk about this right now,” said Mr. Hudson in a low voice. “You know how my mother likes to eavesdrop.”
“Yes, I do,” said Mrs. Hudson. “We can discuss this later, kids. If you see or hear anything suspicious, anything at all—a strange person, vehicle, weird noises—come to us right away. You will, won’t you?”
“Yes,” all three kids chorused without enthusiasm, as though this had been rehearsed several times.
Mr. Hudson picked up the box of groceries, and Mrs. Hudson opened the door for him. “Why don’t you three go swim in the pond while we get dinner ready?”
The screen door slammed in their faces before any of them could utter a reply or ask any more questions. Matt, Ruby, and Corey all stood facing the door.
“Well, that was a load of baloney,” said Ruby. She threw the metal pole off the porch, so it stuck in the grass.
“Yeah,” said Corey, sitting down on the porch steps. “Parents are the worst.”
Matt wondered if his parents had brought them here not just to hide from Captain Vincent, but also so they wouldn’t have to talk so much about anything to do with time travel. After all that had happened, after all they’d been through, Matt thought his parents would be a little more forthcoming. They’d promised to be honest, and though they hadn’t necessarily lied (he didn’t think), everywhere Matt turned, every question he asked, there seemed to be more and more secrets and more mysteries. Now there was some “powerful thing” that Captain Vincent wanted, something that might put them in even more danger, and there was the matter of the compass not being able to travel past Matt’s birthday, and Matt having something to do with . . . something.
Of course Matt knew he would time-travel again eventually. When he’d been on the Vermillion there had been convincing evidence that his future self had traveled before him. His, Corey’s, and Ruby’s names were carved on the mast, and there had been mysterious messages that Matt could only explain as coming from his future self. So he must travel again, though how or when or for what purpose he had no idea. Matt wondered if his mom knew any of this, suspected that he would travel at some point. Had she ever seen their names on the mast? Would she have known what they meant? He didn’t dare to ask her. Time travel was a touchy subject at the moment.
“If only we’d gotten the Obsidian Compass from Captain Vincent!” said Ruby fiercely.
“Yeah, if only,” said Corey.
Matt, too, had lamented this unfortunate circumstance more than once. These days all his thoughts seemed to begin with “what if” and “if only.” All regret and wishful thinking. It was making him miserable.
“Come on,” said Corey. “Let’s go swimming.�
�� He pulled off his T-shirt. He and Ruby were always in their swimsuits. They wore them practically all day, so they could swim in the pond whenever they wanted.
“You coming, Matt?” Ruby asked as she pulled off her T-shirt.
“Maybe in a bit.” He hadn’t spent much time in the pond since they’d come. He’d had a couple of near-drownings while on the Vermillion, and recreational swimming hadn’t been the same since.
“Okay, don’t jump on any trains, planes, or automobiles,” said Ruby.
“At least not without us,” said Corey.
Matt smiled at his brother and sister. “I’ll give you a heads-up, I promise.”
Corey ran down the porch and jumped over the railing. A moment later Matt heard him make a Tarzan call and then splash into the pond. Ruby followed and soon they were laughing and shouting as they splashed water in each other’s faces.
Matt wandered toward the vineyard. He strolled up and down the tidy rows of sprawling grapevines, glowing gold as the sun lowered in the sky. He liked the vineyard. It was all at once artful and mathematical, a place where you could feel lost and found at the same time, all in a good way. It was a peaceful place where he could sift and sort his thoughts. There were a lot to sift and sort. Matt thought a great deal about the Vermillion, his time there and his return. He was still trying to gain perspective. He wondered about Captain Vincent, where he’d gone since leaving them and what he was doing now, or in the past, or in the future. He thought a lot about Jia. He kept seeing her face, pleading for help, fading away. He saw the captain throwing her out of a moving train, or a helicopter, or overboard a ship. He imagined her stumbling through a hot desert or freezing at the top of a mountain. He kept reaching for his bracelet that wasn’t there. Every time he heard the rumble of an engine his heart raced, and along with the fear was excitement, always followed by disappointment when it turned out to be the mailman or a delivery or Chuck mowing the lawn. If something didn’t happen soon, he’d go crazy.
“Matt! Dinner!” Ruby was calling him from the porch.
Matt looked up. Had he been walking and thinking that long? His perception of time seemed to be way off since they’d time-traveled, sort of like coming onto dry land after spending a lot of time on a boat. Sometimes it felt like you were still moving.
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