A Weather Eye on the Horizon

A Weather Eye on the Horizon (7)

ok guys, now the action starts. sorry it took so long! thanks for hanging on!

June 8, 1720

They were right.

I cannot believe it.

I also cannot believe where I am sitting right now. I am in a dirty little cabin, not even half the size of my room at home. It is about seven feet from the door to the wall, and seven feet from wall to wall. There is hardly room to lie down.

I cannot believe what happened.

I went down to the beach later this afternoon, around three o’clock. I stood a while on the beach, and then lay down on some grass. I think I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, someone was picking me up. At first I thought it was Father to bring me home, but when I opened my eyes, there was the most horrible face I have ever seen. It was scarred and rugged, and his one eye was frozen in place! I think I screamed, because then he clapped a hand over my mouth – it did not taste pleasant – and hoisted me over his shoulder. I struggled of course, and tried to get free, but he must have hit me over the head, because I remember nothing else until now.

I had you in my pocket, little book, because I was about to write on the beach when I dozed. ‘Tis a good thing, too. What would I do without you?

I do not know what time it is, or where I am, but I believe I am on a ship, because there is a slight rocking that is making me mildly nauseous.

I am on a ship.

A pirate ship.

I cannot believe it.

Later that day

Dear little book,

I can hardly write for fear. You will never believe what has happened to me, dear book. I believe you are all I have left in this world. How has this happened to me?

A little while after I had last written to you, a man came and brusquely ordered me to come with him. I refused, but he grabbed me by the arms, and marched me out of the cabin. I was led up a small ladder, and through a trapdoor. Once outside, I found myself on the deck of a large ship. Standing on the deck were pirates. A large assortment of them too! They all looked so fearsome. I tell you, diary, I have never been so scared in my life. I couldn’t move, but the sailor – the pirate – shoved me forward, and said something along the lines of, “Here she is, Cap’n.”

The crew seemed a little small to me, but it was a smaller ship. There were about a dozen or so men, either on the deck or doing their duties. All were in their twenties through forties; I did not see any older men. Then I saw the boy. He was older than me, obviously, about Luke’s age, sixteen or maybe older. He was leaning against the mast pole and coiling a rope while looking over at me, dark strands of hair hanging around his face. I could not believe that one so young was with this group.

Then the captain walked up to me. I recoiled, but the man who had come for me pushed me forward. I stood in front of the crew, shaking. He was dressed in trousers, shin-length boot, and a jacket thrown over a white shirt. His dark hair was shoulder-length and tied back with a bandana, but otherwise he looked quite presentable. He was dressed all in calico, which now strikes me as something, but I cannot for the life of me remember what.

Then he spoke: “What is your name, girl?”

I could not talk; all I could do was look at my feet. Then he placed a hand under my chin and forced it up. I looked right into his eyes. They were a steely dark brown. He repeated his question, and suddenly I felt a bit angry. Why should he tell me around? So I said as loudly as I could, “I demand that you put me ashore at once, sir!”

That brought raucous laughter from the crew. To my anger, I saw the dark-haired boy was shaking his head, a smile on his face as he bent over his work.

“So she’s a right proper missy, ain’t she?” the captain said. I was shaking from head to toe. The laughter of the crew had riled me, and suddenly I started speaking furiously, in Spanish, using words I did not even know I knew. I must say, that gave the whole crew quite a shock. They all stopped laughing and stared at me.

“Well, blow me down, mates!” the captain said in mock surprise. “We have a Spaniard at hand!”

I bristled at this; I am not Spanish. I prefer to think of myself as British. And I told him so, too. He looked a little surprised at this. Perhaps he was unused to people standing up to him.

The crew was silent, looking between the two of us. The boy still had a slight smile on his face, looking at me, and the rest of the crew looked mildly amused. This served only to make me angrier.

The captain turned away from me, to the crew. “Well, men? What should I do with her?”

I knew this would determine my fate. Some yelled out, “Throw her to the sea!” and other ghastly ideas as such. Then the captain held up a hand. “We will keep her – for now. She might be of use as a translator. Aye?”

The crew shouted aye back.

And so I was ushered back to my cabin, and here I am now, though I fear the captain shall soon call me.