The Pirate Episode

by Kristy Tate

  The servant flashed a surprised look at Phillip, who nodded in return. Seconds later, the man returned carrying a glass pitcher of gray water with specks of something floating in it.

  “Oh!” The small word escaped her mouth. She couldn’t drink that, could she? She didn’t want to make the poor man run around and jump through hoops for her. It always embarrassed her when they ate out and her mom would send back her dinner plate if something wasn’t perfect. Cami did not want to be like her mom. “Maybe some juice?”

  The man nodded and bowed before her.

  Cami felt badly for sending him back into the kitchen. “What is your name?”

  The man sent Phillip another shocked look before he answered, “Galileo, miss.”

  “Galileo, do you want me to go to the kitchen? I can find myself something to drink.”

  Galileo flinched and drew away from her as if she had some sort of plague.

  Phillip cleared his throat. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary, Cambria. Galileo, find Miss Brandt something to drink.”

  “Maybe some milk?” Cami refused to think about pasteurization, or the lack thereof.

  “And after you do,” Phillip continued, “please bring us our dinner.”

  Cami leaned her elbows on the table and smiled at Phillip. “Tell me all about yourself and your island.”

  “Ah, but ladies first.”

  Cami blinked. “But I can’t tell you anything about me. I can’t remember how I got here, and what I can remember will sound so unbelievable I think that if I told you, you’d lock me up.”

  “Which I have already done,” Phillip muttered as he sipped his wine.

  “I get why you don’t trust me.” Cami leaned back in her chair. “I don’t think I would trust me either.”

  Phillip set down his goblet and studied her. “It has not been long since I journeyed to the upper colonies. I cannot remember ever encountering anyone with such strange turns of phrase as you.”

  “Well, you sound kind of funny to me, too.”

  “Kind of funny…” Phillip repeated slowly and quietly.

  Galileo returned carrying a large tray holding a baked chicken, peas, long strips of steaming carrots, and a lone goblet of milk.

  Cami’s stomach rolled with hunger. She put her hand on her belly, wondering if Phillip had heard. His grin told her he had. Cami lost all interest in conversation when Galileo finally placed the plate in front of her. She felt more than saw Phillip’s amused expression as she shoveled in her food.

  “I think you should know I am, by all accounts, a rebel, and a traitor to the king,” he said.

  Cami looked up and read the earnestness in his face. “I got that.”

  He blinked and looked confused.

  “Oh. You think that should bother me?”

  He stared at her with unreadable eyes.

  Cami scooped up a forkful of peas. “I would be worried about you if you weren’t.”

  “What…” Phillip shook his head. “I cannot understand your meaning.”

  After Cami set down her fork, she gazed at him. “The U.S. wins the war, you know. The British lose.”

  “The U.S.?”

  “The United States of America.”

  “The United States of America,” Phillip said, almost reverently.

  “Yes, George Washington, Benjamin Franklin—all the founding fathers—they’re heroes to almost all Americans.”

  “I wish someone would tell that to my uncle. He and his ilk consider them—and me—traitors to God as well as the king.”

  “I will, if you want.”

  Phillip smirked. “I’m afraid he won’t believe you.”

  “Well, he should.” Cami returned to her food.

  “And how can you say what the future holds?”

  Cami dismissed thoughts of her A.P. History class. “I guess it’s really hard to believe anything from someone who doesn’t even remember how she got here.”

  “This is true,” Phillip said. “And yet, I want very much to believe you.”

  “You should. Although I’m not saying you’re safe on this island.”

  “No, I should think not.”

  “Where’s your uncle?”

  “In Jamestown, Virginia, with my aunt and sister.”

  “You must miss them.”

  “I do. I fear I will never see them again.”

  “The war will be over soon.”

  “Again—how can you know this?”

  “I just do. Someday they’ll write books and make movies about the revolution.”

  “Movies?”

  “Never mind,” Cami said and speared her last pea. Her mom would have been so proud—she’d completely cleaned her plate.

  “How can I put this information from my mind? If you are sincere, as you appear to be, how can I not rejoice?”

  “Because you don’t trust me?”

  His expression clouded. “Yes, there is that.”

  “Do you think after dinner you could show me around your house?”

  His suspicious look returned. “Why?”

  “Because I love old houses. I always have. They have such stories.”

  “My house is not so old.”

  Cami caught her mistake. “Well, it’s older than our townhome. We live in a modern townhome—all marble, chrome, and stainless steel. It’s pretty awful.”

  “What is this chrome and stainless steel?”

  Cami shook her head, not knowing what to say. How was she supposed to know the history of chrome and stainless steel, especially since she didn’t have access to the internet or even a library?

  #

  “I am, first and foremost, a sugar farmer, as was my father before me.” Phillip escorted Cami down the long hall. Light flickered from the sconces lining the walls and shone on the portraits of a long line of La Fleurs.

  Cami found the strong family resemblance intriguing, and she wondered if Phillip and Joel—Dr. Fleur—were related. All of the men were dark with strong jaws, powerful shoulders, and the sort of eyes that looked as if they could read another’s soul.

  “My father settled this island, and when the war is over, I shall return to the fields. They have been unattended for too long. Come.” He led her to a large room dominated by a massive piano. “Do you play?”

  Cami stroked the gleaming wood case. “I do.”

  “I thought so.”

  “Why?”

  He ran his finger up her forearm, sending tingles over her skin. “There is a muscle just here only pianists develop.”

  Cami held up her arm and inspected it as if she’d never seen it before. “Is that true? Because I also play tennis and I can see how that would make my arm pretty muscular.”

  He chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You challenge everything I say.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I do that. My mom hates it.”

  “I do not hate it.” He swallowed and looked out the window. “In fact, I find it refreshing.”

  “Really?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I am the captain of my ship. My men obey me without question. It can be no other way. I am also the owner of this plantation, surrounded by only my employees. We share a kinship, but not a friendship. Can you understand?”

  “Sure. You’re tired of being surrounded by yes-men.”

  “Yes-men,” he repeated. “Men whose answer is always yes.”

  She nodded. “Fortunately, or unfortunately, for you—that’s not me.”

  His smile widened. “So it is not.” He motioned to the piano. “Will you play for me?”

  “Now I don’t know what to do. I really want to try your piano to hear how it sounds, but if I say yes, you’ll think I’m a yes-man.”

  “My mother played. It has been silent since her death.” He gazed at Cami with sad, lonely eyes while he lifted the lid with one hand.

  She pulled out the bench, sat down and ran her fingers over the keys. It seemed remarkably like the baby gran
d in her own home. After a moment of thinking, she began to play Canon in D. The music echoed through the room.

  Phillip settled beside her, his thigh brushing against hers. “Do you know Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing?” he asked as Cami played the last ringing note. “’T’was my mother’s favorite hymn.”

  Cami nodded and played the old song. When she got to the chorus, Phillip began to sing.

  Come, Thou fount of every blessing,

  Tune my heart to sing Thy grace,

  Streams of mercy, never ceasing,

  Call for songs of loudest praise.

  Here I raise my Ebenezer,

  Hither by Thy help I've come,

  And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,

  Safely to arrive at home.

  An unfamiliar reverence filled Cami, making her hate coming to the end. “That was beautiful,” she told him.

  “You are beautiful.” He placed his finger beneath her chin and tipped her face so he could see into her eyes.

  She waited, breathless, wondering if he would kiss her. But after a moment, he dropped his hand and stood.

  The silence felt awkward and heavy, and Cami scrambled for a way to fill it. “Although I’ve always wondered what an Ebenezer is…other than Scrooge, of course.”

  “What is a scrooge?”

  Cami didn’t know when the word had originated, probably not until after the Dickens character. “I asked you about Ebenezer first.”

  “You are not a Biblical scholar?”

  Cami shook her head. Her mom believed in studying lots of things, but the Bible wasn’t one of them.

  “In 1 Samuel 7, the prophet Samuel and the Israelites found themselves under attack by the Philistines. Fearing for their lives, the Israelites begged Samuel to pray for them in their impending battle against the Philistines. Samuel offered a sacrifice to God and prayed for His protection. God listened to Samuel, causing the Philistines to lose the battle and retreat back to their own territory. After the Israelite victory, the Bible records: ‘Then Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen, and called its name Ebenezer, saying, “Thus far the Lord has helped us.”’ ”

  “Oh, that’s nice,” Cami said.

  “It is much more than nice.” He looked disappointed in her. He already considered her a liar and a spy. Now he could add heathen to his list.

  “Is your room adequate?”

  “I think so…for a prisoner’s cell.”

  He looked down at his feet, fighting a smile. When he gazed at her, his smile had disappeared. “I hope you will be happy here, as long as you choose to stay.”

  “I hope so, too,” Cami said.

  “Come.” He took her hand, pulled her up beside him and tucked her hand beneath his arm to walk her up the magnificent staircase. “If you are in need of anything, you may ask Lilou to assist you. We will see each other in the morning.”

  But the next morning, when Cami came down for breakfast, only one plate of steaming eggs and a warm roll sat on the table.

  Galileo held out a chair for her.

  Cami sat, unfolded the napkin and placed it in her lap.

  “The Captain sends his apologies, miss. He has gone to oversee the repairs of his ship.”

  “Oh, of course,” Cami said. Straightening her shoulders, she told herself she couldn’t/wouldn’t be disappointed. Why would she want to see him? He thought she was a terrible person. He’d judged her without even knowing anything about her. But then she thought of his sitting close to her on the piano bench, his rich baritone voice swirling around her, and she felt sad—even though she knew she shouldn’t. Picking up her fork, she scooted her eggs around her plate.

  “Does the breakfast displease you, miss?” Galileo asked.

  “No, I’m sure it’s great.” Cami swallowed a forkful of eggs to prove her words were true, even though she wasn’t at all hungry. She didn’t like Galileo watching her eat.

  After a few more bites, she put down her napkin. “I think I’ll go for a walk.”

  Galileo cleared his throat and looked at his shoes. “The Captain has given specific instructions you are not to leave the premises.” He must have noticed her horrified expression, because he rushed to add, “There is a generous library you may find interesting. The captain suggested you may enjoy the piano…” His words trailed away awkwardly.

  Cami tore her roll into tiny pieces and frowned at her plate. She supposed she could try to crawl out a window, but since she was wearing about a hundred pounds of fabric, she doubted she could go very far. “Do you know what happened to my tennis skirt?” she asked.

  Galileo looked confused.

  “The clothes I was wearing on the ship?” Cami clarified.

  “Ah.” Understanding dawned on Galileo’s face. “I suppose you will find them in the laundry.”

  “The laundry?” She bet Phillip’s laundry room would look radically different from the one in her mom’s townhouse. “Where’s that?” She guessed it would probably be outside and therefore off limits, but for some pressing reason, she really wanted her clothes. Even if she couldn’t wear them and risk horrifying everyone with her brazen immodesty, she needed to see them to be reminded of who she really was and to be reassured her past life wasn’t a dream.

  “In the basement, miss.”

  “Oh, so I can go there?”

  Galileo shuffled his feet. “I will have someone fetch them for you as soon as they’re laundered.”

  “No. I want them now.”

  “Now, miss?”

  Cami stood. “Yes. Right now.”

  Galileo’s eyebrow trembled. “If you say so, miss.” He cleared his throat. “Are you sure you wouldn’t be more happily engaged in the library? Er, or the Captain specifically mentioned the piano.”

  “I want my clothes!” A panic she didn’t know how to define or even begin to understand bubbled in Cami’s chest. She thought maybe if she saw her clothes she’d understand what had happened to her. Maybe if her clothes didn’t exist then the world she remembered—the one that felt so much more real to her than this house, the Dr. Fleur lookalike Phillip, and the sandy beaches and sunny skies—didn’t exist either.

  Galileo motioned for her to follow him, and Cami tripped after him through the dining room and into the kitchen. She barely had time to take note of the cook bent over a glob of dough and the fresh herbs drying in the window before Galileo opened a door leading to a shadowy stairwell.

  “Are you sure, miss?” Galileo asked.

  Cami nodded, determined, even though she saw a this-chick-is-crazy look pass between Galileo and the cook. She followed Galileo down the wooden steps and across the stone floor. A massive wine cellar was to her left. Small windows butted against the ceiling and let in precious little light. A small cluster of women worked in the cellar. Some scrubbed washboards in a massive tub of steaming water while others hung clothes on lines draped with gleaming white shirts.

  Cami let out a breath of relief when she spotted her own tennis skirt, T-shirt, and anklet socks. “I’m not crazy,” she whispered, even though she knew the clothes really didn’t prove anything.

  “I beg your pardon, miss?” Galileo asked, but she knew from the gleam in his eyes that he not only heard what she had said, but also disagreed.

  CHAPTER 5

  The hot, fragrant and steamy air swirled around Cami. Part of her wanted to grab her clothes and make a run for the beach. Logic told her she couldn’t swim all the way to Connecticut…of course she couldn’t. But since she had arrived here via the ocean, maybe it could somehow take her back. She walked over to pluck her clothes off the line, but a girl about her own age stepped in front of her.

  Tall and beautiful in a Beyoncé sort of way, she tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder and faced Cami with open hostility in her eyes.

  “You go back to your washing now, Cherise,” Lilou whispered.

  Cami spun to look for the older woman. She spotted her in the corner, a red-hot iron in her hand.
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  Cherise must have heard the warning in Lilou’s voice, because she fell back a step. “I wanted to see the witch, the one they say sprung from the sea.”

  Cami didn’t know what to say. “I’m not a witch.”

  Cherise leaned forward and ran her gaze over Cami. “True, you don’t look like one. A real witch would have used magic to conjure beauty.”

  “You best be getting back upstairs where you belong, child,” Lilou said to Cami.

  Cami thought about turning and running, but she stayed rooted, wondering why Cherise hated her when she didn’t even know her. She glanced at the other women in the room, but none of them would look at her, making Cami wonder if they all hated her. But why? Did they really think she was a witch? When did they stop burning witches at the stake? Was that just a New England thing, or did it happen in the Caribbean, too?

  What did they call witchcraft in the islands? Voodoo?

  She caught herself. I am not a witch, she thought. And then because she thought they all needed to hear it, too, she repeated it out loud. “I’m not a witch.”

  “That’s not what they be saying,” Cherise said.

  The older women in the room nodded.

  “Put a curse on the Captain, she did,” an old toothless lady said.

  “I did not!” Cami said.

  “There’s no other explanation,” Cherise said. “Why would he be drawn to a pale twig like you?”

  “Ew!” Insulted, Cami pulled a wet shirt off the line and flung it in Cherise’s face.

  Cherise pulled the shirt off, dunked it in the tub of water and threw it back at Cami’s head. But Cami ducked and the shirt sailed over and landed with a splat on Galileo’s broad chest. Covering her mouth, Cami giggled at Galileo’s stunned expression. Cherise joined in.

  “Now that’s enough,” Lilou said, striding toward Cherise.

  Cherise threw a dripping sock in Lilou’s face.

  Still laughing, Cami grabbed a handful of towels, drenched them in the vat of water and threw them one at a time at Cherise.

  The other women cackled and started throwing wet laundry at anyone and everyone.

  “Now see here!” Galileo exploded, right before an elderly woman hurled a pair of the captain’s undergarments at him.