by Kristy Tate
Joel and Cami exchanged glances, which seemed to ask, do you trust her? How many times had Cami placed her life in Cherise’s hands?
#
Cherise sat near the front of the canoe with Phillip’s head in her lap. Joel sat near the back, expertly paddling out into the deep. He had taken off the horrible red coat and his shirt. Cami watched his muscles working, wondering how he learned to paddle a canoe. She trailed her hand in the warm water, wishing for sleep, and yet knowing that even if she could find a comfortable position, she’d never be able to relax.
Hours passed. The moon rose and fell in the sky. The sun appeared, a smudge of pink on the distant horizon, illuminating a strip of distant green land. Cami wanted to cheer, but she was too tired.
They landed and pulled the canoe onto the beach. Cherise put her hands on her hips, looking around, while Joel gathered Phillip up and slung him over his shoulder. Cami was so exhausted she could barely walk, and she wondered how Joel could have the strength to carry Phillip after having rowed the canoe for who knew how many hours.
Cherise nodded at a path leading through the thick underbrush and headed for it. Joel followed while Cami stumbled after them. Morning birds called out as they entered the jungle. Cami’s skirts were wet, and she tried tying them up, but she still found walking difficult. After a few moments, they came upon a small village of bamboo huts with palm leaf roofs.
A topless, toothless native woman dressed in little more than leaves led Cami to a circular hut with a straw mat on the floor. She collapsed and slept.
#
The village fascinated Joel. He watched the women preparing the morning meal over beds of coals and children gathering sticks and hauling water in reed baskets. Those too old to join the hunt or participate in chores lounged near the fire, smoking long pipes and blowing yellow clouds of smoke. All of the natives were tall and lean as if bred to match the palm trees swaying in the gentle breeze. The air smelled of spices and herbs he didn’t recognize.
His gaze sought Cami. He watched her fall onto a mat, clearly exhausted. His own body cried for sleep, but he couldn’t rest without first knowing Phillip and Cami were safe. A woman nearly as tall as him with several strands of beads around her neck approached. He knew from the deferential treatment the other villagers gave her she was the leader of the community. She spoke to him in an indecipherable tongue.
He shook his head.
Cherise spoke to her in French. The woman responded in garbled French. Joel caught the words “sick”, “tired,” and “hungry.”
The woman motioned for them to follow her into a hut. The sun filtered through the crudely crafted bamboo walls, but despite the heat and humidity outside, the interior of the hut was cool. A straw mat lay on the floor beside a series of skin-covered drums. Skulls, shells, and ivory talismans strung on leather thongs hung from the ceiling, making Joel shiver.
The woman pointed at first to Phillip and then the mat, jabbering. Joel carefully laid Phillip down. Then the woman pointed at the hut where Cami had gone, making Joel realize this woman probably misunderstood his relationship with Cami, but after a moment of hesitation, he decided he didn’t care.
He stumbled after Cami, sat down beside her, slipped off his shoes, took his place beside her on the mat, and within moments was asleep.
#
Cami woke with a dead weight pinning her into a warm embrace. She thought about screaming but decided she didn’t have the energy. Lifting one eyelid, she took note of the bright afternoon sunshine streaming into the hut. Memories returned. Slowly, she realized Joel slept beside her, and he held her cradled against his chest. She returned to sleep, lulled by the steady, reassuring beat of his heart.
The next time she woke, the sun had faded. A few dim stars twinkled in the darkening sky. She crawled out from beneath Joel’s arm to peek out the door. A circular fence made of poles shoved into the ground encompassed the village. About thirty round huts filled the enclosure, and one large pavilion-like building stood in the center. Smoke filled the pavilion. A large woman with ebony skin and grizzled gray hair dressed in batik cloth stood at the foot of an altar with her arms raised to the sky, her face also turned heavenward. Men, women, and children gathered around her. The sound of beating drums and chanting filled the air. Cami couldn’t see Cherise or Phillip. Standing, she tried to see over the crowd.
Phillip lay on the altar. Smoke billowed around him.
Panic filled Cami’s chest. Dropping to her knees, she shook Joel.
“Wake up!” She bent over him to whisper in his ear.
He mumbled and reached for her. “Cami,” he muttered without opening his eyes.
“Yeah, it’s me.” She swallowed and shook him harder. “You need to get up! I think the natives are burning Phillip!”
Joel bolted up, wiping his eyes, his breath coming short and fast. “What? Why?”
“I don’t know, but maybe they plan on cooking us next!”
Joel shook himself awake and scooted on his bottom to the door. “I think they’re trying to heal him.”
Cami crawled up behind him and peered over his shoulder. “Do you think?”
Joel nodded. “See the chalice she’s holding? It probably holds a medicinal tea. I believe the original people of Florida were peaceable and agricultural.”
“How do you know we’re in Florida?”
“Just a guess.”
“Are you guessing right now these people are friendly and that they aren’t offering Phillip as a burnt offering to their pagan gods?”
He grinned. “Yeah, mostly because it’s a happier guess than yours.”
Cami leaned forward. “Look, there’s Cherise. It must be okay. She wouldn’t let them hurt him.”
Joel nodded. “Let’s go watch.”
Cami sat back on her heels. “I don’t think so.”
“What are you going to do in here?”
“I don’t know. Be safe. Run and hide if I need to.”
Joel smiled and took her hand. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Let’s just go home.” Cami tightened her hold on his hand.
Joel didn’t try to pull away. “I told you why we can’t do that. If we don’t make sure Phillip is healthy and at the Battle of the Bay, there might not be a home as we know it to return to.”
“So? Connecticut would be controlled by the British. Would that be so bad?”
“Do you really want to be responsible for rewriting history?” Joel stood, still holding her hand, and pulled her up beside him. Grinning, he asked, “Didn’t you watch the Back to the Future movies?”
Cami sighed and let Joel lead her out of the hut.
The drummers stopped beating and the chanters fell quiet. The tall woman lowered her hands and pink smoke exploded, filling the pavilion.
Joel quickened his pace, and Cami stumbled after him.
They found Cherise at the edge of the small crowd. The natives turned their dark eyes on them.
“What’s happening?” Joel whispered to Cherise.
“Old Woman is trying to heal him,” Cherise said with a shiver. “She fears his soul may have already crossed the veil.”
“But he’s still alive,” Cami said with more conviction than she felt.
Cherise nodded. “But maybe for not much longer.”
“We have to save him,” Joel said.
Cherise got a faraway look in her eye. “There might be a way. Some speak of a fountain. They say all that drink of it have eternal life.”
“The Fountain of Youth?” Joel said with derision.
Cami elbowed him as Old Woman lowered her gaze to theirs. She spoke in a strange language.
“She is telling you not to mock what you cannot understand,” Cherise whispered.
“How can you believe in the waters of the Witching Well and not the Fountain of Youth?” Cami whispered, ultra-conscious of the multitude of dark eyes watching them.
“Who said I believe in the waters of the Witching Well?” Joel asked.
Cami snorted. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
Joel grimaced. “Look—”
“We’re not arguing right now,” Cami said.
“You’re right, we’re not.” He turned to Cherise. “How do we find this Fountain of Youth?”
CHAPTER 9
Old Woman convinced Joel and Cami they needed to stay a few days to rest from their trials, as she put it, but also to see if the Black Drink, her concoction, would heal Phillip.
Joel and Cami spent their days helping out in the fields where the natives grew corn, beans, watermelon, berries, nuts and tobacco, and their nights in the straw huts, curled on their mat side by side, Joel’s protective arm holding Cami close. And yet, for all their nearness, Joel still managed to retain his teacher status, making Cami wonder if, by any miracle, they were able to return to their own century, they’d go back to school as if nothing had ever happened. Would she call him Dr. Fleur? Would he shush her for talking out of turn? Grade her papers?
Cami wiggled away from Joel so she could study his face in the soft moonlight filtering through the thatched roof. His scruffy beard and bare chest made him look more rugged than a science teacher should be. He needed a shower as badly, if not worse, than she did.
Rolling onto her back, Cami thought about home. What would her friends say if she told them she’d spent her nights in Dr. Fleur’s arms? What was her mom thinking? Had anybody noticed she and Joel had both disappeared?
Cami’s mom had a strict policy that if something couldn’t be tackled on that day’s to-do list then she hadn’t any business worrying about it. Getting home should have been at the top of Cami’s to-do list, but since she didn’t know how, she pillowed her head on her arms, closed her eyes and decided bathing desperately needed to be placed on her to-do list.
#
Joel, barely awake, reached for Cami. When he realized she was gone, sleep disappeared. Panic pushed him upright. Shooting to his feet, he ran his fingers through his hair and scanned the scene beyond the hut. Women were gathered around a campfire. Birds roasted on a spit. Pots of cornmeal bubbled over the fire. Children skipped and ran around, chasing chickens and squirrels. Where was Cami? His gaze landed on Cherise. She sat near the doorway of the hut where Captain La Fleur lay. Her eyes met his, and a small smile touched her lips. She beckoned him.
“The blood has drained his cheeks,” Cherise said when Joel had joined her. “He sleeps on the edge of death. Old Woman said he will wake to health only if you can find the Fountain of Youth.”
Joel touched Cherise’s shoulder and glanced in at La Fleur sleeping on the mat in the hut. It was like looking at himself. He stepped inside, squatted, and placed his hand on Phillip’s feverish forehead.
Phillip moaned and shifted.
Standing and feeling hopeless, Joel studied Phillip. He promised himself he’d find the Fountain of Youth, but first he had to find Cami.
“She’s at the river,” Cherise said as if reading his mind.
Joel nodded. His gaze traveled from Cherise back to La Fleur. “Have you eaten? Can I get either of you anything?”
“Just the water from the fountain,” Cherise said.
Joel gave a small shake of his head. “I don’t even…”
“There is a map,” Cherise told him. “Old Woman has shown it to me. It will take you to where you need to go.”
Joel knew where he really needed to go was to the twenty-first century. If any of his colleagues knew he was literally sleeping with one of his students, it wouldn’t matter that he was doing his best—fighting, really—to be chaste. He’d be tossed out of the teaching profession, lose his license, and potentially go to jail.
And then there was Cami’s mom. If she could read his mind, she’d have a sex offender moniker attached to his name before he could say, but I didn’t do anything. He hadn’t given Cami the Witching Well water. He hadn’t whisked her to the eighteenth-century. Hell, he hadn’t even followed her to the river.
Joel sucked in a deep breath. He didn’t need a Ph.D in biology to guess what Cami was doing at the river. He longed for a bath probably just as much as she did, but he couldn’t go down there. Still, instinctively, he looked toward the bubbling river. He couldn’t see it through the foliage, but he heard it. For a moment, he envisioned Cami, water glistening off her skin. He bit his lower lip so hard he hoped it bled. He had to get her out of here.
But he also had to make sure she wasn’t being ogled by a dozen native boys. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turned to find the path that cut through the forest of ferns and waving palm trees that led to Cami.
#
Laughter mixed with the river’s rushing sound. He recognized Cami’s voice mingled with others that he could only pray were all female. He started to jog. When he reached the top of a small hill, the river came into view. And there was Cami. A tall raw-boned bare-breasted woman was helping her button into a cotton dress. About two sizes too big, the thing floated around Cami.
He stopped, staring. Sunlight sparkled on Cami’s wet skin and hair. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes bright and shiny.
As if she felt his gaze, she lifted her laughing eyes to his. “They gave me this!” She spread out the wide skirts for him to see, but he only had eyes for her.
“I wonder where they got it,” she said, swirling the skirt. The neckline sagged and fell lower than it should, allowing him a glimpse of her pink bra. The lacy hem brushed the sandy soil.
A native woman scooped up some clothing lying on a fallen tree and motioned toward him.
“I think that’s for you,” Cami said.
Joel tried to tear his attention from Cami and the too-big dress. The ugly clothes emphasized her beauty.
“I don’t need new clothes,” Joel said through tight lips.
“Oh yes, you do,” Cami said. “And you need a bath, as well. I know this because I’m your mat-mate.”
“What I need—” He cut off his words and rearranged his thoughts. After a moment, he said, “We need to get out of here.”
Cami nodded. “I agree. But there’s time for you to take a bath.”
Joel growled.
Cami nodded at the river. “Go on. No one’s going to peek.”
Joel planted his feet wide. “You don’t know that!”
Folding her arms chest, Cami grinned at him. “So what if they do?”
Joel rolled his eyes. Heading for the river, he began to unbuckle his pants. The slow-moving water was the color of ginger. Morning birds flitted through the trees. He felt the native women staring at him.
“Here.” Cami tossed him a bar that looked like soap.
He caught it.
“I think it’s made from honey and sage.”
He lifted it to his nose and knew almost anything would smell better than he did right then. At the water’s edge, he turned his back on Cami and the native women before he slipped out of his pants. He plunged into the water and let it wash away his fears, frustrations, and worries. Resurfacing, he shook the water from his hair and glanced up at Cami. Her laughter had faded and an unreadable expression filled her eyes.
“We’ll go right after we have something to eat,” Joel promised.
Cami nodded, even though Joel knew she didn’t have any better idea than he did where they were going or how they were going to get there.
#
Old Woman spread out a map made of the thinnest leather Cami had ever seen. Landmarks were burned into the leather like brands. It looked incomprehensible to Cami, but it clearly fascinated Joel. While Old Woman spoke in her native tongue and pointed at various spots on the map, Joel nodded as if he understood.
“What’s she saying?” Cami whispered.
Joel pointed to the southwest corner decorated with a drawing of a cluster of corn stalks. “We’re here.” Running his finger along a wiggly line that most likely depicted a river, he said, “The fountain is here.”
“There might be alligators in that river,” Cami told
him.
“I’m sure there are.” He paused and looked up at her. “You didn’t seem worried about alligators this morning.”
Cami shrugged. “I knew if the native women weren’t afraid, then I didn’t need to be, either.”
“Really?” He seemed frustrated by her answer. “You can’t just decide not to be afraid because other people around you aren’t.”
Cami put her hands on her hips. “What is your problem?”
Joel tightened his lips and refocused on the map, effectively closing her out. He wore the clothes the natives had given him: a pair of breeches, a white-button down cotton shirt and a sturdy pair of boots. The bottle containing the Witching Well water poked out of one of his pockets.
Cami didn’t like being ignored and thought about kicking him, but after a few moments, she decided she needed to know the map just as well as Joel, in case they were separated, even though the thought of losing him made her queasy. Hanging out with Cherise and the Indians was fine—as long as Joel was nearby, but being without him in the Florida wetlands was unthinkable.
But wait—wasn’t that the same thing she’d thought about Phillip? She touched her forehead, feeling sick. With sudden insight, she realized she didn’t want to be so dependent on anyone. She took a hesitant step away from Joel, suddenly scared of how badly she needed him. If I get home… she thought. No, she corrected herself, when I get home I’ll never be dependent on anyone again.
#
Within an hour, Cami and Joel were canoeing up the slow-moving river. Knowing paddling upstream had to be hard work, and also acting on her new “don’t be dependent” motto, she frequently asked if she could take her turn with the paddle, but so far, Joel had always turned her down. He was in a hurry for Phillip’s sake—she understood that—so she didn’t press it.
The river cut through the jungle. Birds and insects called out to them as they passed. Alligators lounged at the river’s edge, occasionally lifting their heads and swishing their tails.
