Vuela

Chapter 7

Both guests follow Mr. Newton down to the kitchen, which is back towards the stern at the lowest level of the craft. Mr. Newton remains in his poise sternness, but Celia and Vuela are not in the most delightful of spirits.

They are aware that they need a good captain to lead their cruiser to San Martín's island, and they have no doubt of the woman's skill in direction and order, but when it comes to her tongue, she's harshly honest. The way she belittles them by the little information that she has about them seems like she's trying to scare them off. Just because Celia has never been on a treasure exploration and that Vuela is a child, Kujo can try to show how little that they know about the "ocean world."

Who does she think she is? is the question that's kept only in their minds.

Vuela's not scared and easy to manipulate, not by an inch. In fact, she's more irritated that she's being stuck in the galley rather than seeing the outside and doing whatever she wants to do. The freedom of outside is still not a privilege even when she's trying to escape the dire situation that she and her brother are suddenly suffering. She knows in her heart that the goal can be accomplished to get them out of that situation, and that's when freedom will be gained.

"You're seriously not going to let her put me to work down in the squall, are you, Cel?"

"Sorry, kid," she replies, shrugging her right shoulder. "If we're going to get through this voyage, we're gonna have to do what she says. She does have a point. You'd be a sitting duck if you don't do something with your time."

"We're probably gonna get to that island in a week or less."

"Actually, no, for one thing. For the second thing, we shouldn't make it look suspicious. If we don't put in our parts on this trip, the rest of the crew is going to wonder what we're hiding...if what Kujo said is right, and I do agree with her on that."

"Funny how even when she's not facing a bloody battle, she thinks that we have spies among us. Did you even see those guys who were cleaning the side of the boat, Celia? They didn't look close to suspicious."

"Don't judge books by their covers, Vuela. I know you have been used to that by living in a bookstore for a third of your life, but people are a whole different species, especially when away from civilization."

"When did you all of the sudden decide to use my age as an insult?"

The First Mate hushes the two before entering the next hallway. "We are entering a common area. All private conversation must be kept in your mouths if you'd like to continue your privacy."

"Yes, sir," the two reply without hesitation.

To get to the kitchen, the group passes by the crew hanging cots, which serve as public bedrooms in comparison to where Celia and Vuela are going to be sleeping. The group seeps through a narrow hall to the dining area, which looks more daunting than any other kitchen Vuela has been in. The ceiling is dark and covered in pipes and rectangular vents, which connect to the cooking machines. For a room so clean, the lights are strangely dim. Walking into it makes the back of Vuela's neck tingle. She can't tell whether no one is actually here or she's going to be the next horror movie victim. She was hoping that no one was stalking them for that to be the case.

"Ms. Savage," Mr. Newton calls, "we got the guests to meet you."

Clacking of boots echo at the back of the kitchen. From the open back door, a muscular woman in a white, stained jumpsuit, which is covered by a brown cooking jacket, and a dark red skirt that reaches to her knees enters with a slight limp. She is taller than the average woman, and she walks carefully as she carries a box into the room. From behind the counters and with her eyes contently closed, she seems to be a normal cooking woman.