A Hidden Queen

Chapter 35

John steps to the side as the heavy double doors creak open. Joe swallows hard staring into the darkness of the captain's cabin. John eyes Joe, keeping his face stoic. Her hands shook as she creeps into the space. She spins herself around as she continues towards the middle of the room. John holds his breath; her face was a mix of so many emotions. Joe pauses at the old oak desk. She breathes heavily as she sets trembling fingers against the smooth surface.

"There are so many memories in this room." John states quietly.

Joe freezes, eyeing him out of the corner of her eye. John removes his hat throwing it in a nearby chair. He takes a step closer to Joe holding his arms out wide. Joe turns away from him taking several steps away. She continues to look about the room as she stands near the bookcase above the bed.

"Your mother use to sit on that bed with you, telling you all kinds of different stories. Clinton would always be nearby sitting in his desk chair, pretending to pour himself into work but really listening to them." John reminisces.

"He used to stand in the doorway and watch us when mom was trying to get me to sleep." Joe whispers, her voice cracking a little.

"I can still see Clinton sitting at his desk investigating every map he had to plot a proper hunt. Martha would have to come, dragging him out into the sunlight and forcing him to breath." John laughs.

Joe moves closer to the chair. She gently runs her fingers over the smooth leather. He bits his bottom lip. She stares at the chair with grief and sadness. John inhales deeply clearing his throat.

"When I first came aboard you were so happy to see me. I remember Clinton wanted to talk about what was going on, but you would not have it. You busted through the doors; Martha hot on her heels. You had informed me that it didn't matter what I did before. I was home now." John pauses, swallowing hard. "The same applies to you. You're home now Josephine."

Joe tenses. She digs her fingers into the chair, "Is that why you brought me here? To reminisce? To persuade me to stay with you?" She whispers out harshly.

"No." John quickly defends, before slumping his shoulders. "Maybe. I don't want you to go back. That isn't your home."

"You don't get to decide what is my home." Joe hisses out. She sets ice cold eyes on John. "You lost that right when you left me on that island."

"Joe, I told you before I didn't know what had happened or where you were." John clips.

Joe snarls at him, taking a step closer, "For three years I rotted at that island! You mean to tell me in that amount of time you did not have one notion to check to see how dad and I were doing?"

"I told you!"

"Oh yes." Joe sasses, gesturing wildly, "You didn't know. Well, guess what Uncle you don't get to leave me alone for three years and come back to whisk me away like some knight in shining armor!"

John growls. He can feel his anger rising to his chest, tightening it. They were playing this damn game again and he was getting sick of it. He takes a step closer to Joe, pointing a harsh finger at her.

"I will have you know that I started looking for your sorry ass as soon as I talked to Albert. But there are hundreds of islands, hundreds upon hundreds of possible ports and places, Josephine! It was going to take months to search them all and that was being hopeful that you were still within the Caribbean. You could have at least made your letter less vague and given us a hint on where you were! I had to search every damn island within a couple days journey before I even got a lead!"

Joe's face twists upwards into a nasty snarl. John sighs heavily, turning away from Joe as he throws his hands up in the air. He scratches at the back of his head. He glances over at Joe just as she wraps her hands around a wooden statue of a giraffe. John's eyes widen as Joe launches it at him.