“Why?” Ruby asked. “What did the captain mean exactly when he said you’d been waiting for us? And how did he know Matt’s real name was Mateo?”
Jia’s smile faded. She fiddled with one of the flaps of her many bulging pockets.
“It’s difficult to explain,” said Jia. “I think it’s better if you see for yourself.”
“All right,” said Matt. “How do we do that?”
Jia looked up toward the mainmast. “Climb up to the crow’s nest,” she said. “I think you’ll understand then.”
Matt looked up at the crow’s nest, at the very top of the mainmast, and got a slight feeling of vertigo.
Corey, however, had no reservations. He was already at the base of the mast. “YOLO!” he shouted. “A pirate’s life for me!” He began to climb the rope ladder.
“You can stay here,” said Ruby, clearly sensing Matt’s apprehension. “I’ll go with Corey.”
“No, I’m okay,” said Matt. He wasn’t about to admit he was afraid of heights in front of Jia. He also had the feeling that whatever it was she wanted them to see, he needed to see for himself.
Matt was careful not to look down as he climbed, and he tried to ignore the queasy feeling in his stomach. His breathing got a little raspy the higher he went. When at last he reached the top, he had to flop onto the floor of the crow’s nest.
“You okay?” said Ruby, helping him up.
“I’m fine,” said Matt. He forced himself to stand and was almost knocked over by the wind. It was much stronger up here, whipping his hair in all directions. He grabbed on to the edge of the crow’s nest. Just above his head was a black flag flapping in the wind. It had the same symbol he’d seen on the side of the subway and the nose of the steam engine: a star made of arrows with a red V in the middle. Matt suddenly realized it was a compass star.
“This is amazing!” said Corey.
The view was spectacular, as the captain had said. Matt could see for miles, the expanse of the ocean, the endless sky. The sun was starting to set, casting pink and gold over the water.
“What are we supposed to see, though?” said Ruby. “I don’t see anything that would help us understand why these people have been looking for us.”
“Waiting,” said Matt. “He said they’d been waiting.”
“Whatever. Big difference,” said Ruby. “The point is, we did not just stumble onto this ship by accident, and Mom and Dad would never in a million years be okay with us staying.”
“Who cares what Mom and Dad think?” said Corey. “They’re not here, and remember the captain said he could take us back right where and when we boarded. They won’t even know we’ve been gone, so what’s the big deal?”
“What’s the big deal?” said Ruby. “What if one of us had gotten caught in Paris? What if we get lost or stuck in some other time, or in this Nowhere-in-No-Time place and we never get home? What if—”
Ruby was cut off midsentence as the ship suddenly lurched beneath a wave and the children all tipped inside the crow’s nest. Corey clung to a rope while Ruby grasped the edge of the nest. Matt crouched low and wrapped his arms and legs around the mast. He closed his eyes until the ship steadied. When he opened his eyes he saw something very strange.
“Guys,” he said. “I think I found what we’re supposed to see up here.”
Corey and Ruby crouched down by him.
“What the . . .”
Etched into the wood of the mast were three names.
MATEO
COREY
RUBY
Matt brushed his fingers over the letters.
“But . . . how?” said Ruby.
“I see only two possibilities,” said Matt. “Either three other people with our same names carved their names on this mast, or . . .”
“Or?” said Corey.
“We carved them ourselves.”
“But we didn’t,” said Ruby.
“But we could have,” said Matt.
“Don’t you think we’d remember if we’d been on a time-traveling ship?” said Ruby. “Or any ship at all, for that matter.”
“Not if our future selves traveled to the past,” said Matt. “Don’t you see? We’ve already been to the past. What if we stay on the Vermillion and go into the past again? At some point in the future, we go to the past, and our future selves carve our names into the mast.”
“Or someone on the crew could have just carved them here,” said Ruby.
“Why would they do that?” Corey asked.
“To convince us to stay!” said Ruby. “To manipulate us.”
“I don’t think that’s it,” said Matt. “Look. That’s my M. How would they know to make my M like that?” Matt always made the M in his name with crisscrossing lines and it was carved exactly like that in the mast. This must have been how the captain knew his name, why he called him Mateo instead of Matt.
“This is so weird,” said Corey.
Ruby brushed her thumb over it. “But what does it mean?”
“I think it means that we stay,” said Matt. “We’re supposed to stay.” He felt sure of it now, deep in his gut. He didn’t know why they were supposed to stay, but staring at his name in the mast, so clearly carved by himself, was enough to convince him.
“But Mom and Dad—” Ruby protested.
“Mom and Dad will never know,” said Matt. “If the captain can take us back before we boarded the train, it won’t matter.”
“Exactly,” said Corey. “Come on, Ruby. Two to one. Remember Mom and Dad told us to stick together, no matter what? Our future selves clearly did.” He gestured to their names.
Ruby continued to stare at the names, then took a deep breath. “All right, we’ll stay.”
Corey whooped and jumped into the air, then grasped one of the ropes before he went toppling over the edge of the nest.
“But not for too long,” said Ruby. “And we really need to be careful. Even if the captain can take us right back to where and when we left, it won’t matter if one of us gets lost or Corey falls to his death. Just because we carved our names here at some point in the future doesn’t mean our future selves don’t get into trouble.”
“If we die in the past though,” said Corey, “wouldn’t we be nonexistent in the future? And if we don’t exist in the future, we couldn’t have boarded the Vermillion and traveled in the past, so we never would have come on board this ship. So we must survive.”
Ruby shook her head. “Stop, you’re making me dizzy.”
It made Matt dizzy, too, and sent a shiver up his spine. He still hadn’t thought through all the implications of time travel, but the more he thought about it the more it seemed a very dizzying, delicate thing. “We’ll be careful,” he said. “But let’s go down now.” Corey and Ruby began to climb down, but Matt held back for just a moment. He had a strange feeling that he could only describe as déjà vu. Of course he had déjà vu. He’d been here before, apparently, sometime in the future. And now his future self was circling back to him, whispering in the back of his mind. It told him he was not here by chance.
8
The Crew and the Compass
Matt climbed carefully down the mast and was grateful to have his feet on the deck of the ship.
“Did you see it?” Jia asked, looking concerned yet hopeful.
Matt opened his mouth to answer but suddenly lost his balance and stumbled right into Jia, nearly knocking her over. She wrapped her arms around him, stumbled backward a few steps, and stopped them both from falling.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, sorry,” said Matt.
“Ah! Bonding already,” said the captain. He was coming up the stairs onto the deck, the white rat sitting on his shoulder. He beamed at Jia and Matt, who looked like they were embracing. Matt felt his cheeks warm as he untangled himself from Jia and stepped away. She didn’t seem at all embarrassed.
“The Hudsons just climbed up to the crow’s nest, sir,” said Jia.
“Did
you?” said the captain, clearly intrigued. “And how did you find the view?”
“It was spectacular,” said Matt. “Just as you said.” The captain’s eyes flashed, and Matt was certain he knew exactly what was carved on the mast.
“I’m very glad to hear it,” said Captain Vincent. “And I hope you’re all hungry. I’ve ordered a feast in your honor. May I escort the young lady to the dining room?” The captain offered his arm to Ruby, and she regarded it warily, a hint of disgust on her face.
“Oh no, Captain,” said Corey. “Ruby doesn’t like stuff like that.”
“Doesn’t she?” said the captain.
“She’s a feminist, sir,” said Corey in a loud whisper. “That means she’s a girl who likes to be in charge and doesn’t like to depend upon men for anything.”
“Is that so?” said the captain, who seemed thoroughly amused.
Ruby scowled at Corey. “I like good manners just fine,” she said, taking Captain Vincent’s arm. “What I don’t like is boys telling me what I do and don’t like.”
The captain gave a hearty laugh. “Miss Ruby, what a fine time pirate you will make! I think we shall get on splendidly.”
Matt smelled the food before he saw it—meat and garlic and onions and cheese. When they reached the dining room an enormous feast was spread over the table. It looked to be mainly French fare—soufflé, coq au vin, green beans with shallots, cucumber salad, and more pastries, cheese, fruit, and plenty of wine.
The captain sat at the head of the table. He invited Matt to sit on his right, Ruby on his left, and Corey next to Ruby. However traditionally French the food was, the table settings were rather eclectic. Each place setting was unique—different patterned bone china, pewter plates, silver bowls, and handcrafted stoneware. There were various crystal goblets, pewter mugs, champagne flutes, and a large tin tankard. Matt’s setting was an odd pairing of a plastic plate with a picture of Darth Vader and a delicate china teacup with pink rosebuds.
Jia sat next to Matt, and the little blond girl with the rope sat next to her. She peered around Jia and stared at Matt. She had the palest gray eyes he’d ever seen, and he felt as though she was seeing right into him.
“Have you met Matt yet, Pike?” said Jia. The little girl went back to her rope, picking at the knots. Matt noticed that it was actually tied around her waist, cinching up what looked like a pillowcase with holes cut for her arms and head. Along the neckline and hemline hung safety pins, hairpins, and old-fashioned hatpins, like she was trying to create a metallic sort of fringe from the contents of an old lady’s sewing box.
“Pike doesn’t talk,” said Jia, “but she’s really sweet. She likes to tie and untie knots.”
“Where’s she from?”
“We haven’t a clue, actually,” said Jia. “I found her one day in one of the food pantries, wearing nothing but a sugar sack and a rope and eating the pile of sugar she’d dumped on the floor. Poor thing! We never could figure out where or when she’s from, but she really is very sweet. She helps me around the ship sometimes.”
Brocco came bursting into the room, followed by Wiley, talking in a loud, brassy voice. “What do you mean, books are more powerful than guns?” said Brocco. “My guns could blast your books to smithereens!”
“The books perhaps,” said Wiley, his pipe bouncing up and down in his mouth, “but never the words, my friend. Words are forever. Words can pierce the heart sharper than any sword or bullet.”
“Right then,” said Brocco. “You bring your books and I’ll bring my guns, and we’ll see whose heart gets pierced first.” Brocco sat down next to Corey. He was still wearing the red cape, but he’d taken his hat off, making his features much more noticeable, the most prominent being his hair. It was dark blond and very wild, with long, crooked clumps sticking out in all directions like a bunch of crab legs. His skin was tan and weathered, and his teeth were crooked and slightly yellow, all except for one top tooth on the side that was remarkably clear and sparkly, like crystal or diamond.
“That’s my seat.”
Matt jumped a little and looked up to see Albert staring down at him, nostrils flared.
“Oh,” said Matt. “Sorry.” He started to rise, but the captain held up his hand.
“Albert,” said the captain. “It’s impolite to ask guests to move.”
“It’s all right,” said Matt. “I don’t mind.”
“Please find another seat, Albert,” said the captain quietly but with finality.
Albert blinked, clearly taken aback, but he did not argue. He pushed up his glasses on his nose, walked to the other end of the table, and plopped sulkily in the chair next to Wiley. Matt tried to offer an apologetic smile, but Albert seemed to think he was gloating and only glared in return. Matt flinched and looked away.
“I like your bracelet,” said Jia. “Is it special?”
Matt looked down. He hadn’t realized he’d been rubbing his thumb over it. “Oh, thanks. No. It’s just something I’ve always worn, sort of a good-luck charm, I guess.”
When Matt was little he had frequent, recurring nightmares, often about someone coming and taking him away, though he could never see the face of his kidnapper. He’d wake up screaming, and his mom or dad had to rush into the room and hold him until he fell asleep. Then one day, while walking down Fifth Avenue with his mom on their way to the museum, Matt spotted a street vendor selling crystals and jewelry with a sign written in fancy, loopy letters.
Positive Energy Crystals and Stones
Erase bad thoughts.
Calm fears.
Stop nightmares.
Matt begged and pleaded with his mother to buy him one. He was certain it would help his nightmares because the sign said so. (He was still at a stage where he believed everything he read.) Mrs. Hudson said no and pulled him along, but Matt threw a temper tantrum, which was very unlike him, and then the man offered to sell one for only a dollar, and so Mrs. Hudson, exasperated, bought it, thrust it in Matt’s hand and dragged him down the street. Matt was thrilled. The stone was somewhat metallic, dark, and smooth, with a slight sparkle that seemed to shift like grains of sand in an hourglass whenever he moved it. He put it on that day and had worn it ever since. Strangely, he never did have the same nightmare again, and it had almost become as much a part of Matt as his eyes or ears.
“Do you know what the symbol means?” Jia asked.
“What?”
“The symbol. It looks Chinese.”
“Oh,” said Matt, rubbing his finger over the bracelet, feeling the grooves in the stone. “I always just thought it was a random design.”
Jia shrugged. “Maybe it is. I never did learn the writing system, and I can barely speak Chinese anymore.” She seemed ashamed of this.
“I’ve studied a little Chinese,” said Matt. “Did you speak Mandarin or Cantonese, or some other dialect?”
Jia shook her head. “I’m not sure. I never went to school or anything.”
“Maybe you could speak with me and it would bring it back to your memory,” said Matt.
Jia smiled. “Yes, I’d like that.”
The captain tapped his knife to his crystal goblet. Everyone quieted their chatter and stilled. They all looked to the captain, waiting. Matt wondered if they were going to say grace. Almost. The captain recited what Matt thought was a mix between a prayer and a poem.
We drift on the sea
And rest from our noble work
To stuff our faces.
He speared a chunk of meat from one of the dishes and stuffed it in his mouth.
“The captain always recites a haiku before dinner,” Jia whispered to Matt. “And we don’t eat until he finishes his first bite.”
The crew all watched the captain’s every chew with rapt attention, but as soon as the captain swallowed, everyone converged on the food all at once, attacking it like a mass of starved piranhas.
The Hudsons all looked at each other, not quite sure what to do. Their parents had always been
very particular about their manners at the dinner table, and especially coached them for when they were guests, either in other people’s homes or a restaurant.
Corey shrugged and leaned into the fray, heaping food onto his plate. Ruby had to sit back to avoid his elbow, but then she shoved him out of the way and began to dish up her own food.
“Mmm . . . this is delicious,” said Corey, shoveling food into his mouth. Matt was sorry he wasn’t feeling particularly hungry. His queasiness had only gotten worse since the crow’s nest, and now that they were sitting down, the last dregs of his adrenaline rush seemed to drain and exhaustion set in. He barely had the energy to lift a fork.
“You’ll get used to it,” said Jia. “The food, I mean. It was very different for me when I first came on board the Vermillion. I didn’t like it at all. So much flavor and variety! At the orphanage all we ate was rice and cabbage.”
Matt felt a little sheepish that he’d appeared to be so finicky. He dished himself up a bit of coq au vin and some potatoes, nibbling bites every now and then, but his stomach curdled. He wondered if Corey and Ruby were feeling off at all, but they were both eating hearty amounts of food.
As they ate, the crew told them where and when they were from. Brocco was from Australia, born in 1851, and had apparently been a part of a gang of bank robbers when he met the captain.
“I mean, he comes in right after we’ve robbed the bloody bank, steals all the money right out of our hands, and the bloody rogue had the gall to wink at me!”
“I always know a fellow time pirate when I spot one,” said the captain with a smile and a wink.
“What about you, Wiley?” Ruby asked.
“I was born in Alabama,” said Wiley. “Don’t know what year exactly. The good captain picked me up in 1925, but I was in Chicago by then.”
“You don’t know what year you were born?” said Ruby.
“Well, I suppose it was somewhere around 1910. My parents both died when I was pretty young. Don’t even know my own birthday!”
“How did you survive?” said Ruby.
“Begging on the streets when I was little. Pickin’ pockets when I got a little older.”
Time Castaways #1 Page 8
