“Yo-ho,” JJ said, unenthusiastically.
12
They sailed on slowly as the night waned and the sun peeked over the horizon. The crew hadn’t gotten much sleep, but the adrenaline hadn’t left their systems yet. They hadn’t even fully comprehended that they just faced down armed gunmen.
Really. Who does that?
If at no other point during their adventure so far, it was then that Carter realized this was not a game. He never really did anyway. This was always the real deal. The way out. The way to stay together.
Freedom.
But he saw the change that realization brought about in the others. He worried that it would scare them off, send them paddling back home to welcome the shackles of curfews and chore lists for fear of the unknown that lay ahead. Instead, they embraced it.
Louis, who had disappeared below deck an hour earlier, emerged behind an armload of color clothing and accessories. “Raided the closets downstairs. Found some great stuff.”
“For what?” Marcus said. “Dressing up like a rich old lady?”
“Proper pirate garb,” Louis said. “We need to look the part.” He spread the clothes out on the deck—silk shirts, scarves, gaudy necklaces, bandanas. They cut ribbons out of dresses and tied them around their arms and legs. Tied bandanas and scarves around their heads. Loaded their wrists with gold and silver bangles.
Once finished, they looked like a proper pirate crew.
Sort of.
They stood in a circle, admiring each other. Bit by bit, they were becoming more along the lines of what Carter had envisioned. This whole thing was becoming what he always wanted. Adventure, freedom, life on the high seas.
“Perfect,” Carter said. “This is a scurvy bunch of sea dogs if ever I’ve seen one. We’re ready to sail for treasure now.”
“No, we aren’t,” Brad said in his stern, wannabe parent voice. “Not by a longshot.” He was holding his keychain again, that cheap bauble he always kept close.
Carter took a deep breath, tried to remain calm, tried to not let Brad’s naysaying bring him down.
“We’re not going anywhere… Until we decide on a captain.”
Carter’s stomach sank. He knew it was coming. He knew Brad would try to take charge, make rules, give them curfew, take them back home if things got out of hand. Armed gunmen probably classified as out of hand.
Carter sighed. If he had to be a deckhand to continue this adventure, then he would. He didn’t need to be captain. Even though that’s all he ever dreamed about. But if taking a step back for them to move forward was required, he could live with it.
Sort of.
“So let’s take a vote,” Yvette said.
Brad stepped in before anyone could speak. “I just want to say something first.”
A collective groan came from Louis, Marcus, and Yvette.
“This is a democracy, right?” Brad asked the group.
They consented and gestured for Brad to continue.
“I think you all know that I thought this was a bad idea from the start,” Brad said. “Like, really bad. Maybe the worst. Anyway, I was dead against it. And, despite how much fun you might be having, you can’t deny that I was right, at least a little, to question this.” He pointed at the horizon behind him. “I mean, we almost just became a Lifetime Original Movie—Orphans Kidnapped by Pirates. Or worse, a headline—Flesh Picked from Orphans’ Bones after Being Totally Shot to Pieces by Spray Tan Pirates.”
The others didn’t laugh. That’s okay, Brad thought. He wasn’t trying to be funny.
Brad paced the deck, looking in each of their eyes. All but Carter’s. “That stuff just can’t happen anymore. If we’re going to continue on with this, we need to be safe about it. No more playing pirates. If we keep going, we are pirates. And pirates aren’t fools.”
Finally, he looked at Carter, and Carter saw something he did not expect.
A smile.
Brad continued. “Pirates were tacticians. Smart. Tricky. They were the Navy SEALs of their day. They knew when to fight, they knew when to hide. But, most of all, they were adventurous. They were brave. That’s who we need to serve as our captain.” He turned away from Carter and addressed the crew. “And I think it’s obvious who that needs to be.” Brad puffed out his chest, stood tall, and looked squarely at his little brother. “I nominate Carter as captain.”
Wait, what? Carter couldn’t believe his ears.
“Gasp,” Louis said. “Plot twist.”
“I second that,” Darla said.
“I third it,” said Yvette. “Is that even a thing, thirding it?”
“I don’t think so,” Louis said. “But it sounds cool.”
Marcus stood. “I object.”
“Double gasp,” Louis said. “Plot twist again.”
Marcus shook his head and frowned, like he’d bitten into an apple and saw only half a worm. “If I’m gonna put my trust in you to get us to some treasure and not get eaten by sharks or shot by spray-tans, you gotta have a better name than Captain Carter. It’s lame, bro. And I won’t follow a lame captain.”
Silence. The wheels of everyone’s mind began turning, some faster than others.
“El azote de los mares,” Yvette said after a few moments. “It means, ‘the scourge of the seas.’”
“Not bad,” said Louis. “A little aggressive, perhaps, but still, not bad.”
“What about, Captain Kickin’ Butts and Takin’ Names,” Marcus posed.
He found himself on the receiving end of everyone’s stare.
“What? It was just a thought. Jeez. Y’all are lame,” Marcus added.
“I’ve got it,” said Louis. “Captain Cartier, the Prince of the Pacific.”
Marcus scoffed. “You should be chucked overboard just for thinking that, let alone actually saying it. And for your information, we’re in the Atlantic, not the Pacific.”
“I know, but Pacific had a nicer ring to it.”
“No. Hell no!” Marcus said. “No way I’m taking orders from a captain named after a jewelry designer.”
“Wow! Marcus, I’m impressed,” Louis said appreciatively.
“Just because I can’t afford bling doesn’t mean I don’t know who makes it,” Marcus retorted. “You of all people, Louis. That’s very narrow-minded.”
“Point taken.”
Everyone was silent for another minute or so, nobody wanting to give voice to a name that was silly, or lame, or just plain dumb.
Suddenly, Brad smiled and nodded his head. He walked over to Carter and put his hands on Carter’s smooth, soft cheeks. “Lackbeard.”
“Ooh, that’s good,” said Louis. “Really good. I’m jealous I didn’t think of it.”
Darla lit up like a Roman candle. “I love it.”
“Perfecto,” said Yvette.
Marcus nodded. “When you’re right, you’re right.”
In his best grizzled pirate voice, Brad said it again. “Lackbeard.”
Hmm, it does have a pretty cool ring to it, Carter thought.
“All in favor?” Darla said.
“Aye,” the crew said in unison.
Carter stared at his brother for the longest of moments before turning away, pretending to have something in his eye. Pirate captains don’t cry! He brushed away the imaginary dirt and addressed his crew. “Thank you.” His voice cracked. He tried to cover it up by clearing his throat and speaking in his pirate voice. “We’ve won our first battle, but I assure ye, it won’t be the last. The sea, she’s unforgiving. She cares not for our plights or dreams of treasure and freedom. She will pull us down to her murky depths first chance she gets. To say nothing of the salty dogs who sail atop her.” He untied his skull and crossbones bandana from his head and handed it to Yvette. “But I promise, with every ounce of salt in my blood, that I will get us to the ‘x’ on that map, and to all the dreams that await us there.”
A round of cheers sounded from the crew as Yvette ran the skull and crossbones up the mast.
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Brad clapped his hand on Carter’s shoulder. “Well, Captain Lackbeard, what are your orders?”
“Set course for Eleuthera, and make haste!” Lackbeard yelled. “There’s coin to be had.”
13
The sea air tasted saltier than the bottom of a bag of pretzels as the midday sun beat down on Carter. It was like a meal, finely seasoned. The sweet wind was his dessert. Everything seemed brighter and better now that he was officially captain. But, for some reason, he couldn’t stop staring at his reflection on the surface of the water and thinking about land. Or, if he was honest, the people on that land. And the people buried in that land.
“Course is set, Captain,” Brad said as he approached the bow where Carter sat. “Darla, Yvette and I found some old maps and stuff. Plus, this boat has a GPS. Eleuthera isn’t that far. Did you know that the Bahamas is only fifty miles from where we live? Paradise, so close to the dump we grew up in.”
Carter didn’t turn away from the water. Brad must have noticed the slump in his shoulders.
“What’s wrong?”
Carter shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Brad sat down next to him, let his legs dangle over the edge. He looked down, and now the distorted reflections of both Humbolt brothers stared back at them.
The silence stretched from the bow to the horizon.
“I was scared,” Brad finally said. “When those guys pulled those guns out, I totally froze. My mind went blank. All I could think of was the barrel of that gun.” Brad paused, gave Carter a chance to speak. When he didn’t, Brad continued. “Then I thought of you and Darla. I wanted to protect you, but I didn’t know what to do. Ever since, I’ve just felt embarrassed. Ashamed, maybe. I’m supposed to protect you. That’s my job.”
Silence again. The rest of the crew sounded far away, like their voices carried across the water all the way from home.
“You ever think about Mom?” Carter finally asked, breaking the silence.
The question caught Brad by surprise. He sat for a long moment before answering. “Yeah. A lot. You?”
Carter was barely three when their mother had died. He didn’t have many memories of her. The picture of her that he had in his head was like a reflection seen from the corner of his eye. It shifted, changed, sometimes looked a little too much like the mom on whatever movie he’d last seen.
“Yeah,” Carter answered. He suddenly felt the pressing urge to change the subject. So he plucked the first thing that came to his mind and spit it out. “I miss Linn, too.”
His cheeks turned a bright shade of red, and he immediately wished he’d plucked something else. “You know, because she was such a good friend and stuff.” Carter floundered to rebound from the shock of his own words. “And if it wasn’t for her, we wouldn’t have gotten away from the orphanage. She sacrificed herself. Like Gandalf.”
Brad laughed and seemed generous enough to let the subject drop. “Yeah, well, Gandalf comes back after that. And more powerful, too. I’ll bet you’ll see Linn again. You know, as a friend.” Maybe he wasn’t feeling that generous.
“Hey, guys!” Yvette yelled. “I think we might have a problem.”
Everyone rushed to her at the helm.
“What’s wrong?” Brad asked.
She pointed up at the sky. “That.”
A fat, black cloud sat between them and Eleuthera. Judging size and distance out on the open sea could be a challenge, but this thing seemed like a black hole had opened up in the sky. And black holes swallowed everything that came near them. But they didn’t have a choice. It was far too big to go around. The only way was through.
“Captain?” Yvette said.
“Batten down the hatches,” he said. “It’s rough seas ahead.”
“You think?” Marcus said, rolling his eyes. “Instead of Captain Lackbeard, maybe we should call you Captain Obvious.”
Carter gave his friend a cross look. “Now’s not the time, rapscallion.”
Marcus shook his head. “A’ight, Captain. I’m a gettin’.”
As the crew ran about, removing everything from the deck that could go overboard and bringing it below, tying down whatever could be tied down, Carter noticed Yvette’s eyes still fixed on the storm cloud. There was something odd about them, a shade he’d never noticed before: fear.
He stood beside her, still at the helm. He leaned in close and whispered in his normal voice, “Yvette, are you okay?”
She sucked in a quick breath, startled. “Fine.”
If there was one thing Carter knew about Yvette, it was that she was tough as nails. And even when she wasn’t, she was. At least, that’s what she wanted everyone to think. That she was always strong, never afraid, had nerves of steel, and never backed down. But even in the foster care system, where kids are constantly putting up fronts, where you can peel away layers for years before you see a kid for who they actually are, live with a person long enough and you get glimpses of their true selves.
Carter had caught a few glimpses of Yvette over the years. He would never tell her that because she would probably punch him. But he’d seen through the cracks in her armor. He saw it when they first stepped on the boat—a little hesitation, a slight tremble. Before she took a deep breath and quickly spackled over those cracks.
She came to the United States like many Cubans—on a rickety boat that was barely seaworthy, with her family. She arrived in America an orphan.
“You sure?” Carter asked. “Because we could totally—”
“I said I’m fine,” she said, her voice unwavering.
Carter nodded, and then joined the others in securing the boat. With the hustle and bustle, he’d almost forgotten why they were rushing to tie everything down. Until thunder rolled across the water and lightning pierced the sky in the distance.
“She’s comin’ on us,” Carter said to the crew. “What say we hit this beast head on, run her through and make landfall in time for supper?”
A rowdy cheer erupted from the crew.
But one remained silent.
“Helmsman,” Carter said. “Take us through.”
Yvette didn’t move. Sweat beaded on her brow.
Carter repeated his orders.
“No,” Yvette said.
A gasp from the crew.
Carter marched up to her, to remind her that she’d signed the articles and took an oath to obey her captain. But when he saw her chin quivering, he softened his approach. “Yvette, I know this is hard for you, so if you want someone else to—”
“That’s not what this is about,” she said, clenching her jaw. “This is about me knowing what I’m doing. My parents taught me everything they knew about sailing. And we are not sailing into that storm.”
Carter studied her face, then those of the crew, and then he looked to the storm. A firm hand on his shoulder turned him around.
“Part of being a good captain,” Brad said, “is knowing when to trust your crew.”
Carter looked back at the storm. His dreams lay just on the other side. So close he felt like he could reach out and grab them. He could practically smell the treasure on the wind.
Was that determination on Yvette’s face or just a mask of fear? Did she want to run?
No. Yvette didn’t run from anything.
“Okay, helmsman, then what do you propose?”
Yvette pointed up at the storm clouds, defiant, like she was cursing the dreaded things. “If we charge through and get too close to land, we won’t have any room to maneuver, and we risk being smashed against the shore.”
“I vote no smashing,” Louis said.
“Second,” Marcus quickly added.
“What are our options?” Carter asked.
“We could try to outrun it,” Yvette said, pointing behind them. “Haul it back toward Florida, and we might make it before the storm reaches us.”
Carter’s chin dug into his chest. The very thing he did not want to hear. She did want to run. Wanted to sail back to the safety of dry
land and locked doors and storm windows.
“Or,” she said.
And Carter’s heart leapt.
“We could heave-to.”
Louis raised his hand. “I’m glad you said that because I think I just heave-to’d in my mouth a little.”
Yvette smacked Louis in the shoulder. “Keep it in your guts.” Then to Carter: “Not many people know how to heave-to anymore. Most just run and try to sail through. But my parents showed me. It’s basically parking in open water and weathering the storm. We trim the jib aback, trim the main in hard, and lash the helm.”
“Yeah, what she said,” Marcus stated, clueless.
“You really think it’s our best play?” Carter asked.
Yvette nodded. “I do. I mean… Aye, Captain!”
“Then let’s do it,” Carter said. “Tell us what to do.”
Yvette barked out orders, and the crew hurried about, tying off lines and trimming sails. The wind began to howl. Rain fell. “We’re good,” she said to the crew after the work was done. “Now we head below and hunker down. It’s about to get rocky.”
The crew needed no more urging. They hurried below deck.
Carter paused when he noticed that Yvette wasn’t following. “You said we’re good, right?”
“Yeah,” she answered, but she sounded far away. She craned her head all the way back, stared straight up at the sky and let the rain fall on her face. She jumped when the lightning flashed and the thunder roared, but she didn’t leave the helm.
Carter walked back to her side.
“I have this exact same nightmare every night,” she said. “On a boat, at sea, in the middle of a storm. Just me and my family. A wave slams our starboard. Everyone screams. My mom’s hand slips through my fingers. Then I wake up, and my family is gone.”
Carter grabbed Yvette’s hand. “This family will still be here when you wake up.”
Her face was wet with rain and tears. She brushed it all away. She smiled and nodded. Then the two of them went below with the rest.
They were all huddled together on the bed, arms and legs weaving together into one trembling human tapestry. They opened up and absorbed Carter and Yvette, and became a singular blanket that kept them all warm through the night.
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