Time Castaways #2

by Liesl Shurtliff

  “Don’t take too long,” said Belamie. “We’ve got work to do.” Belamie took Vincent’s hand, and they went belowdecks.

  As soon as they’d gone, Matt slowly stood up. He stretched his cramped legs. He took off his Mets hat, now itchy from the water, and shook his wet hair.

  “See?” said Annie, walking back toward him. “I told you Vincent was a viper. Ooh, I hate him!”

  “What were they just talking about?” said Matt. “Before you shot at them—”

  “At Vincent,” said Annie. “I’d never shoot at Captain Bonnaire.”

  “At Vincent,” said Matt. “They were talking about something called . . . the Aeternum? What is that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” said Annie. “They’re always searching for some fancy treasure or something. I never pay any mind. I don’t care a hoot about gold or diamonds. I just shoot at the bad guys, scare ’em off, and be grateful for a hot meal and a bed. Or a hammock, I suppose. It’s more than I ever got back home,” she said bitterly.

  In an odd way, Annie reminded Matt of Jia. They were nothing alike in looks or personality, but Jia, too, had never questioned Captain Vincent’s missions or commands, and she had also been grateful just to have food and a home, to have been rescued from the first life she’d been given. And he’d ruined that for her. It was going to be ruined for Annie as well, likely very soon.

  “So?” said Annie, fiddling with a mechanism on her gun. “What happens in the future? Am I on your crew? Are you captain now or is your mama still captain? And what happens to Vince the viper? Does he get discarded in a pit of snakes?”

  Matt considered what to say. He could lie, but then he remembered how Annie said she could always smell a lie and, somehow, he believed her. And maybe if he told her the truth, he could help her avoid a fate like Jia’s. That was something at least. “Vincent gets the Obsidian Compass in the future,” he said. “And the Vermillion. He’s Captain Vincent in my time.”

  Annie’s eyes widened. “But . . . then you get it, don’t you? I mean, you have it now, or else how would you have traveled?”

  Matt shook his head. He wasn’t sure how much he could or should explain. How much would she tell his mom? He’d probably already said too much. “I can’t explain everything,” said Matt. “I don’t think it’s safe, but Captain Vincent still has the compass right now, in my time.”

  Annie set down her gun with a thunk on the deck. “So he does steal it from her, that filthy lying dirty rotten cheater! So what do we do? Are you on a mission to stop him? Should I shoot him dead?”

  Matt considered. Should she? Would that solve their problems? His mind raced to calculate all the implications. He didn’t really like the idea of killing someone, even Captain Vincent. Aside from the fact that he didn’t think he had the guts to do it, it could have serious repercussions on his future and the future of his family. What would happen in his own life if Vincent died right now? Was it even possible? Matt was supposed to meet him in Vincent’s future and his own past. If Vincent died before any of that happened, what then? Maybe his mom would never marry his dad. Matt wouldn’t be adopted, at least not by his parents, and Corey and Ruby would never be born. He could seriously mess up all their lives.

  “No, I don’t think you should shoot him dead,” said Matt. “Might do more harm than good.”

  “Well, what can we do then?” Annie asked. “We can’t just let him get away with it. And what about me? Do you know what happens to me in the future? Am I with your mom? Does she take me with her?” Her voice had gone high and thin. She trembled a little, and with all her bravado gone she suddenly looked even smaller and younger.

  What could Matt say? She hadn’t been on the Vermillion with Captain Vincent when he had been on board. It was very likely that she’d been discarded, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her that, even if it was the truth. Anyway, it was possible she could have gotten away before Vincent got the compass and took over the Vermillion. What if someone had warned her beforehand?

  “Listen, Annie,” Matt said. “I don’t know all that happens in your future. All I know is that Vincent will be captain of the Vermillion, and you’re not on his crew, and you’re not with us. I think the best thing would be for you to get away from all this, from Vincent and the Vermillion. As soon as possible. Captain Bonnaire will take you home, won’t she?”

  “The Vermillion is my home!” said Annie.

  “You heard Vincent, though,” said Matt. “He’ll discard you the first chance he gets, and you’re not going to shoot him, or if you do, you miss.”

  “I never miss,” said Annie, all stubbornness back.

  “Then you’re not going to shoot him,” said Matt. “Because he has the compass in the future, and you’re not on his crew when I meet him.”

  Annie’s face went pale. “I can’t go back home,” she said, her voice wavering a little. “Mama bound me out to work for the most awful people, and I won’t go back to those wolves!”

  “Then don’t go back to them. Go back to your mother. She’d be happy to see you, wouldn’t she?” said Matt.

  “She wouldn’t. I’m just another mouth to feed, and she can barely feed herself and the little ones. Captain Bonnaire is the only one who’s ever taken care of me!”

  “I’ll bet you could take care of yourself now. You’re not the same little girl now as when my mom found you, are you? You got your gun, and you never miss, right?”

  Annie shook her head. “Never. I can shoot marbles tossed in the air.”

  Matt thought he might like to see that, but there wasn’t time for sport here. “Then trust your gun,” he said. “I’ll bet you could feed your whole family if you wanted. Just don’t stay here. When Vincent becomes captain, he’ll discard everyone and get his own crew.”

  Footsteps were sounding from belowdecks. “I better go. I can’t be seen by anyone else.” Matt reached in his pocket for his compass. He moved to turn the dials, and then paused. If he traveled while on the Vermillion, would only he travel? Or would the Vermillion come with him? He wasn’t sure his compass worked that way, but if it did that could be a real disaster, bringing past Belamie Bonnaire to future Mrs. Hudson. He decided it would be best to jump back in the water and travel back the same way he came, as terrifying and uncomfortable as it was.

  He walked toward the side of the ship when someone came up the stairs from belowdecks. Matt ducked down behind the barrels again. He peered around the side and saw Vincent.

  “Forgot my sword, which you so politely shot out of my hand,” said Vincent. He picked up his sword, twirled it around, and swiped it across Annie’s face, narrowly missing her nose. “Now get down to breakfast before—”

  Vincent stopped speaking. He was looking at something on the ground, his brow furrowed. He stabbed his sword at the ground and lifted it up in the air. Matt gasped and covered his mouth. Swinging from the tip of Vincent’s sword was Matt’s Mets hat! He’d dropped it. How could he have been so careless?

  “What’s this?” Vincent asked.

  “Nothin’,” said Annie. “I got a hat out of Priscilla’s shop to shield my eyes from the sun, and then I dropped it in the water, and then I fished it out. . . .”

  Matt put his hand to his forehead. Maybe Annie could smell a lie, but she sure couldn’t tell one.

  Vincent studied the hat, sniffed it, then turned around in a full circle, scanning the ship. Matt considered what to do. He wasn’t that far from the side of the ship. He could probably run and jump. It wouldn’t be that big of a deal if Vincent saw him from behind for just a moment. Or he could sit tight, count on Annie to cover for him, wait for Vincent to leave.

  “I really don’t think we should keep the crew waiting any longer,” said Annie in a high voice. Vincent ignored her. He was heading toward Matt now, getting closer and closer.

  “Golly, I sure am hungry,” said Annie loudly. “We best be getting to breakfast, don’t you think?”

  Vincent was a mere ten feet from Mat
t. He was eyeing the barrels, his sword in hand.

  Matt made a split-second decision. He made a mad dash for the side of the ship, only to trip on a coil of rope! He scrambled to his feet, but it was too late. Vincent was upon him. He grabbed Matt by his hair and yanked him away from the side of the ship. Matt yelped and struggled to get free, but Vincent twisted harder.

  “And what do we have here?” he said, pulling Matt’s head back so Matt was looking at him upside down.

  “Don’t hurt him!” said Annie.

  “You snuck him on board, didn’t you?” said Vincent. “You’ll most certainly be discarded now. Bel!” he shouted. “Captain Bonnaire, come now! We have a spy on board!” There was a rush of footsteps, more than just Captain Bonnaire’s. Matt fought as hard as he could, but Vincent yanked his hair so hard, he thought his scalp might rip right from his skull. His eyes watered. This wasn’t supposed to happen! He wasn’t supposed to be seen by his mother or Vincent or any of them! He’d made a huge mistake. His heart beat faster and faster. He began to shake.

  Captain Bonnaire came rushing up the steps, followed closely by three more crew members, and before Matt knew what was happening, he had a sword pointed at his neck. His own mother was pointing a sword at him. “Who are you?” she said.

  “I’m, uh . . .”

  “What are you doing on my ship?” The tip of her sword pressed into his windpipe. It was a blunted edge, thankfully, but it still cut off his air so he couldn’t speak, and he could barely breathe.

  “A spy, most likely,” said one of the crew, a tall woman with dark skin. “Children are always very useful spies.”

  “His clothes are most definitely from the future, Captain,” said another woman. Matt couldn’t see her face, but judging by her accent she sounded like she might be Indian. “Late twentieth century, somewhere.”

  “He dropped his hat,” said Vincent. “That’s how I found him out. The little brat was hiding him. She knew he was here the whole time! I told you she wasn’t to be trusted. She’s probably a spy too.”

  “I’m not a spy!” said Annie. “And I didn’t let him on board! He was already here!”

  “But spying for who?” Belamie asked, still studying Matt like he was some kind of puzzle she was trying to put together.

  “Quine,” said Vincent in a low voice. “He knows what we’re after, Bel. He’s trying to stop you. He’s trying to infiltrate your crew.”

  Matt saw the blood drain from his mother’s face. She looked afraid, and then angry. She lowered her sword and lunged. She grabbed Matt by the collar and twisted it, so it was fully choking him. “Who sent you? How did you get here?”

  “Stop, Captain, stop! Don’t hurt him!” Annie shouted.

  Matt thought he was about to be murdered by his own mother (before she was his mother), and then suddenly she stopped and gasped.

  “Ah!” She released him and clutched at her chest.

  At the same time Matt felt a burning sensation on his leg. It was his compass. It was hot.

  “Bel, what is it?” said Vincent.

  Belamie pulled the gold chain at her neck and yanked off the Obsidian Compass. She dropped it to the ground where it started to smoke.

  Vincent loosened his grip on Matt’s scalp just enough. He twisted free and shoved Vincent as hard as he could. Vincent stumbled back. Matt ran, ignoring the smoke and searing heat coming from his own compass.

  “Stop him!” shouted Belamie. “Annie, shoot him!”

  Matt ran faster than he’d ever run in his life. He hurtled over the side of the ship, flailing as he dropped toward the water.

  BANG!

  A gunshot rang out just before he hit the water. For a second he thought Annie had tried to shoot him, but when he surfaced and turned around, it was his mother who held the gun.

  Matt grabbed his compass and turned the dials. He didn’t know where he was going. He had no time to think. His mother blasted another shot. It hit the water just a foot from Matt.

  “Don’t shoot him, Captain!” Annie shouted, trying to grab the gun. “You can’t kill him! He’s your son!”

  Matt made the final turn of the outer dial. Just before he traveled, he caught a final glimpse of his mother. She wasn’t aiming the gun at him anymore. She stared at him with a look of total shock and disbelief.

  Matt was jerked away, like a taut fishing line had been hooked right in his gut.

  Phlpt!

  He was sucked beneath the water.

  7

  Explanations

  Matt hurtled through time and space like a bouncy ball. First, he landed in what looked like a field of wheat. It was quiet except for the gentle breeze rustling the stalks of grain, and then he was sucked away again, and rolled in the middle of a highway, and was nearly run over by several cars. He disappeared just as a semitruck was coming at him. And then he wasn’t anywhere at all, or at least he thought he wasn’t anywhere. Really, he was falling out of the sky, like a skydiver, except he didn’t have a parachute. He stretched his mouth in a silent scream as he fell. I’m going to die, he thought as the ground came closer and closer. He shook his compass, turned one of the dials a couple of clicks, and just before he met the ground he was sucked back into the time-traveling vortex again.

  Finally, he landed with a hard thump. All the air was knocked out of him, and stars popped out of the corners of his eyes, but he was alive and in one piece. He was pretty sure at least. When he was able to breathe again, he groaned and rolled over on the dirt. He looked around. He was in the vineyard. He could see the house. He’d made it back!

  He pulled himself up and teetered a little. He grabbed on to one of the vine posts and then froze.

  He was staring at himself!

  “Oops!” He ducked and ran through the vineyard, hopping rows every few feet. Ha! He’d just come face-to-face with himself from a month ago! He looked at the dials of his compass. May third! He’d shifted the date dial to June first, but nothing happened.

  “Come on!” he said, shaking the compass, but it wouldn’t work. Why?

  The peanut butter . . . It had all but washed off. He was guessing the compass needed more.

  His past self was catching up with him. He looked toward the house. He could run in and grab some peanut butter, run out, and get back to where and when he was supposed to be. He would do it because he knew he had done it before. He ducked beneath another row and promptly ran into someone. At first he was afraid it was himself, but it wasn’t, of course. He would have remembered if he’d run into himself before.

  “Geez Louise, what in the heck is going on?” said Chuck, grabbing Matt by the arm to steady him before he fell over. “Is there a bear after you? Why are you running like a maniac?”

  “P-peanut butter,” Matt stuttered. “It just needs peanut butter!”

  “What?” said Chuck. “You need a putter?”

  Matt gurgled a laugh. A putter! That’s why he’d given Matt a putter before!

  “Yeah, yeah, a putter! Gotta go!” Matt hopped beneath a row of vines and ran toward the house. He ran up the steps and burst through the door that led directly to the kitchen. Gaga and his parents were there, preparing dinner. Matt dashed into the pantry and pushed the jars and cans around.

  “Matt, buddy, what are you doing?” his dad asked.

  Tomato soup, crackers, tuna . . .

  “Mateo, no snacks now,” said his mom. “We’re just about to have dinner.”

  Beans, peaches, pears . . . peanut butter! He grabbed the jar and ran out of the kitchen, whirling past his parents.

  “Mateo, didn’t you hear me? And why are you all wet?”

  “I’ll be right there! Gotta do something real quick!” Matt ran out the door and jumped over the railing. He rolled as he landed, then sprang to his feet, ran to the back of the house, and crouched behind the lilac bushes. He unscrewed the jar of peanut butter, scooped out a glob with his fingers, and smeared it into the compass.

  Come on, come on! He turned the time
dial. He didn’t need to go anywhere else, just travel a few weeks ahead.

  He looked up and locked eyes with himself. His past self looked like he was seeing a ghost. Matt supposed he was in a way. His own ghost. He smiled at himself, and then—

  Phlpt!

  Matt landed on his feet this time. His knees buckled beneath him, and he fell forward, landing hard on the heels of his hands. Dirt caked onto his sticky peanut butter hands and the compass too.

  He was outside, he was pretty sure, and he was on dry land. The sky above him was dark and dusted with stars. The air smelled mossy. Crickets chirped, and someone not too far away was singing very off-key.

  He stood up and swayed a little. His heart was beating very fast, and he was slightly dizzy. He was still in the vineyard, but had he come to the right time?

  He heard the singing again. Where was it coming from? He turned around and saw Chuck’s orange VW bus. The sliding door was open, and Chuck was sitting inside. He looked the same as the last time he saw him. Same scraggly beard, same fishing hat, same tie-dyed T-shirt with the peace sign, but that’s what he always wore, so it didn’t really give him any clue as to what day or time it was.

  Chuck was singing some song about a piano man at the top of his lungs. Matt vaguely recognized the song, though he thought Chuck was singing pretty off-key. Chuck pulled out a harmonica and started playing. He turned just enough to notice Matt in his periphery. He jumped and dropped his harmonica.

  “Good gravy, kiddo, what in the name of Peter, Paul, and Mary are you doing?”

  “Sorry,” said Matt. “Do you know what day it is?”

  Chuck looked at him a little funny and then checked his watch. “It’s uh . . . June first.”

  “And . . . the year?”

  Chuck raised his eyebrows at Matt. “It’s 1975.”

  Matt’s heart skipped a few beats. Really? He’d gone that far off?