Captured in the Caribbean

by Sara Whitford

  “Wait a minute! Hector is the one who tried to kill my mother!?”

  Santiago nodded. “He was one of a group of them who tore through the town, burning ships and some buildings on the waterfront, killing livestock, and stealing slaves. Most of the attackers were Negros and mulattos. They had been former slaves from the English colonies who had run to San Augustin for freedom—but they were being led into battle by Spaniards. And thanks to my uncle’s money, Hector had become one of the men leading the attack.”

  Adam was stunned. He didn’t know what to say.

  “As I was telling you, when I realized that Hector was involved—because Mary had seen him among the men who were setting fire to the tavern—I suddenly came to realize what Alonso had been saying to me all this time was true. Hector had been at my wedding, and now he was trying to burn down the home of my bride.”

  Adam was incensed. “Why didn’t you track him down and beat his ass? Why didn’t you kill him?”

  His father shook his head. “Mijo, your mother had survived, but Hector did not know that. How could I have let Hector know what I knew without giving away the fact that your mother had survived? She was the only one in that tavern who had met him. He never went to that tavern—not like Alonso. And anyway, I will not kill a man in cold blood. If I had caught him in the act myself, I would have done anything I could to save Mary and the others in the tavern, but to go hunt him down and kill him like an animal? That I could not do.”

  “So that’s when you left?”

  “Your mother and I, we talked about it. We thought about so many things we could try to do to be together—we even thought about running away to Europe or the Mediterranean to try to start a new life—but my uncle is very well connected the whole world over, and every option would have had us always looking over our shoulders to see if Eduardo or one of his mercenaries was after us.” He hung his head and sighed. “Mijo, that is no way to live, and that is no way to raise up a child.”

  “So you just decided to come back to Havana and pretend like she was dead . . . and me?”

  Santiago nodded. “That is correct. I came back to Havana, and I grieved horribly. I did not even have to pretend, because I was grieving. It was as though she had died to me—and you along with her. I knew I could never make contact with either of you again for fear of my uncle finding out that the two of you still lived.”

  “You really did stay away to protect us?” Adam was beginning to understand his father’s sacrifice all these many years.

  Santiago’s eyes were welling up, but Adam could see that he would not let himself cry. “Your mother had Valentine and Margaret. They were so good to her—just like her parents—and so they would be like grandparents to you. I knew they would take care of her—and you.”

  Adam nodded. “They did. They have. Margaret passed away, you know. She died when I was about ten years old.”

  “I am so sorry to hear that. She was a kind woman. Valentine never approved of my relationship with your mother, because she was only seventeen when we met.”

  “How old were you, then?”

  “I was twenty-three, I think. But Margaret, she did not mind. She said that she was only fifteen when her father let her marry Valentine, so she did not understand why Valentine thought Mary was too young. Valentine said times change, though.”

  Adam chuckled. “That sounds like Valentine.” He thought for a minute, then had another question. “When did you decide to go back to Beaufort?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you obviously went back occasionally to do business with Emmanuel Rogers. How were you able to do that without your uncle finding out?”

  “That was very hard for me,” Santiago responded. “But I had to do it. The spring after I had left Beaufort for good, I received a letter from Emmanuel saying that he wanted to do business with me again. I wrote him back and told him that I would come before the summer’s end, and I did, but I did not make many trips back to Beaufort—and I always stayed away from the Topsail Tavern. I didn’t want it to seem as though I still had any ties there at all, just in case Eduardo had gotten one of my other men to spy on me.”

  “Did Mr. Rogers know about me? I mean, did he know about you and my mother?”

  Santiago looked like he was considering the question before he answered it. “It is possible. The first time I was in Beaufort, he must have known I was spending a lot of time at the Topsail Tavern. And yours is a small town. I am sure he would have known that your mother had a child that next spring. And he may have even realized that it was nine months after I was there, but if he did know about it, he did not say it to me, and we did not discuss it.”

  Adam realized that it must’ve been his father that Emmanuel was talking about when he had said that he’d always had his eye on him and was committed to seeing him be successful. At the time he had dismissed the idea of it being his father, since Emmanuel said he had made the promise decades ago, but it was probably just that the old man was trying to be vague about it.

  He and his father continued to talk for the better part of an hour before Dr. Santos came back in to give Santiago more medicine.

  “He seems to be doing alright now,” said Adam. “What’s that for?”

  The surgeon explained, “I am trying to help him stay ahead of the pain. It is much easier to keep it under control than it is to bring it back down once it becomes intense.”

  “I see.” Adam stood by and watched his father open his mouth to receive the concoction as Dr. Santos administered it from a glass medicine dropper.

  “It’ll probably make him drowsy, you understand,” said the surgeon. “I will be going back to my office now, but your captain knows how to find me. I will be coming back here to check on him first thing in the morning. Until then, do not move him. We do not want to risk further trauma or infection.”

  Adam nodded. “Yes, sir. I understand.”

  At that, Dr. Santos excused himself.

  “Just sit with me until I fall asleep,” Santiago said to Adam.

  “I will.”

  Within moments Santiago had drifted off into a heavy sleep. Adam somehow felt obligated to stay on the Gypsy to look after his father, but something was worrying him, and his gut was telling him he needed to find Drake and talk to him. He thought that it would be unlikely that Captain Phillips would let him leave the sloop, given all that had recently happened, but nevertheless he was determined to go, even though he wasn’t sure what, if anything, Drake would be able to do.

  Chapter Seventeen

  ADAM WENT BELOW DECK TO find Martin. He was right where Adam would’ve expected him to be. Still, he asked, “Hey, what are you doing?”

  Martin, who was with Canady, Willis, and Jones, sitting around a table in the galley playing cards, turned to look at his friend and said, “Tryin to win back my money from these rascals.”

  “Yeah, right,” said Canady. “You just keep right on tryin, fella. The more you try to win it back, the deeper that hole keeps on gettin!”

  The other fellows at the table laughed and slapped their knees, but not Martin. He rolled his eyes instead.

  “Come with me, then,” said Adam.

  Martin looked back at the motley crew sitting around that table and appeared to be contemplating his decision for a brief moment before throwing down his cards and bowing out of the game. “I’m done, boys.”

  “You can always join us later, mate,” said Jones. “Maybe you’ll win back what all you lost.”

  Charlie laughed. “I doubt it. His luck don’t seem too good these days.”

  “Right,” said Martin dismissively. He patted Adam on the shoulder and urged him towards the tiny staircase and said, “Let’s go.”

  “So where are we going?” asked Martin.

  “I need to find Drake. I figure you must know where he lives, since you were with my father before y’all took off looking for me.”

  “I reckon I
do know,” said Martin, “but do you really think it’s such a good idea to leave the ship right now? I mean, I figure Eduardo and his men are still after you.”

  “What if they are?” said Adam. “In fact, I’m sure they are, but they will be until either we leave this place or he dies. I just need to find Drake. Are you going to help me or not?”

  “Yeah, I’ll help you.”

  Ten minutes later the two of them were venturing down the same narrow street where Martin had gone with Captain Velasquez when they first went to find his English friend.

  Martin had to stop for a minute and think about which of the row houses belonged to Drake. They nearly all looked the same, with brightly colored plaster facades and arched entryways.

  He noticed a patch of small, warm-colored blossoms of portulaca growing in front of one of the entrances, and he knew that was the one.

  “This is it,” he said.

  Adam stepped forward and gave the door a sturdy knock. He could hear a baby burst out in tears, then a woman shouting something in Spanish before a half-asleep and shirtless Drake finally came to the door and swung it open. Adam could tell that his father’s friend was surprised to see him standing there. It took Drake a second to realize he should invite the boys in.

  He stood back and motioned for them to come inside, then called upstairs to his wife. Adam could hear him call out her name, Elena, and then say something in Spanish, but he couldn’t understand it.

  Drake limped as he showed them into the parlor and invited them to sit. The place was sparsely decorated, though the furniture that the Drakes did have seemed to be of good quality. Some of it was English, and some was Spanish. The exotic ambiance briefly reminded Adam of home—the living quarters back at the warehouse, with Emmanuel’s diverse decor from around the world.

  “How’s your leg?” asked Adam.

  Drake grabbed at his injured knee. “My wife bandaged it up for me. Still hurts like hell, though.”

  He poured himself a shot of rum and offered some to Adam and Martin. Adam declined, but Martin never could refuse a free drink, so Drake poured him some in a glass. “I don’t ordinarily drink in the middle of the day, lads,” he said, “but it does help to dull the pain.” He took a sip, then asked Adam, “How’s your father?”

  “I think he’s doing as well as can be expected,” said Adam. “Our captain found a surgeon to patch him up. Apparently, he’s lost a lot of blood, and the surgeon has said he’ll be keeping an eye out for infection. I got the impression from Dr. Santos that he has a chance to recover from this, but it will be an uphill climb. He gave him some medicine just before we left. It makes him sleepy.”

  Drake rested his elbow on his knee and twisted the glass back and forth in his hand, obviously worried for his friend. “I pray he doesn’t get an infection. You know what’ll happen if he does.”

  Adam nodded. “Dr. Santos told me—they’d have to amputate.”

  “Good Lord,” exclaimed Martin.

  “That’s dangerous business, that is,” said Drake.

  He looked at Adam as though he was wondering if there was some purpose to the visit.

  Adam said, “I’m not sure why I even came here, but I thought I should let you know the situation.”

  “I’m pleased you did, lad, if for no other reason than it shows you care about your father’s well-being.”

  “Has anyone told his mother yet? My grandmother, I mean?”

  Drake shook his head. “Not I. I was utterly exhausted when I left our conversation on the ship. I came home straightaway and collapsed in my bed. My sweet wife, Elena, was worried sick about me, so she brought in our baby, and we were all napping upstairs when you knocked on the door just now.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to have woken y’all,” said Adam, “but I didn’t know where else to go or who to talk to.”

  Drake thought for a moment and rubbed his eyes. “Tell you what, let me get cleaned up and dressed, and we’ll go over to see your grandmother right now.”

  The suggestion took Adam by surprise. “Right now?”

  Drake stood, drank down what was left in his glass, and said, “Why not? I’ve rested up a bit, and there’s no good reason to wait. I’d say it’s time you met your abuelita.”

  Adam wrinkled his brow. “What?”

  “Your grandmother.”

  At that, Drake excused himself and went upstairs.

  “Oh Lord,” Adam said to Martin. “I don’t know that I’m ready for this. I wonder what she’s like.”

  Martin clicked his tongue and tilted his head. “I reckon you’ll find out.”

  Within moments Drake came back downstairs and leaned into the room just long enough to say, “Ready, lads?”

  Adam gave Martin a worried look and took a deep breath before following Drake out into the street.

  “LOOKS LIKE WE’RE ABOUT TO get a storm,” Drake said as he readied his horse cart. “I’ll try to get us there quick.”

  They were soon on their way towards the Velasquez estate.

  As they neared the road along the waterfront, a light rain began to fall. Adam wondered which house was his father’s. When Drake finally slowed the cart in front of a massive iron gate between plastered walls, Adam was stunned to see the property that lay beyond. Although it was nearly dusk, he could see that the house was enormous. There was a beautifully manicured lawn and gardens, and two servants were outside with umbrellas, lighting the lanterns that illuminated the lane to the residence.

  Drake climbed down out of the cart and rang the bell at the gate. One of the servants looked over at him and called out in Spanish.

  Drake responded, “¡Soy yo, Tomás!” He then addressed the servant by name—Felipe—and said something else that prompted the man to immediately recognize him.

  “¡Ay, Señor Drake! ¡Ahorita vengo!”

  Felipe was a tall, slender black man who couldn’t have been more than twenty or so. He ran over and opened the gate to let Drake, Adam, and Martin into the property. He explained something to Drake, which Drake promptly translated for Adam and Martin.

  “He’s just told me that Señor Santiago isn’t here, but that Señora Isabel has a visitor.” Drake raised his eyebrows at Adam and Martin, indicating his curiosity.

  “A visitor?” said Adam. “It couldn’t be anything to do with my father.”

  Drake tipped his head to the side. “We’ll find out.”

  He said something else to Felipe, who then motioned for them to bring the horse cart up near the main house so they could leave it under a shelter out of the rain.

  As soon as they had done that, Felipe led them both to the main house and invited them into the foyer. As the three of them stood there, Drake explained that another servant would soon come and show them to the salon where she was receiving her visitor. They needed to be announced first, though.

  As they waited for the other servant, they heard a crack of thunder outside, and the rain began to fall much heavier. They could hear it beating against the windows as the wind drove it towards the house, and they were grateful to have made it indoors just in time.

  Adam had never been in a house so enormous before, nor had he seen such fine furnishings. In fact, la hacienda Velasquez made even the most prominent Beaufort citizens look like paupers.

  Martin had already seen the palatial residence, so while he was still impressed, he was able to contain himself. He whispered to Adam, “Close your mouth! You look like some country bumpkin!”

  Drake must’ve overheard what Martin said because he chuckled. Adam shot an annoyed glance at Martin but closed his mouth nevertheless and made every effort to act natural.

  Another servant could be heard walking on the marble hallway that went behind the grand staircase in the foyer into another part of the house. They soon saw him appear from behind the staircase, and he instructed that they should follow him.

  They walked through an ornate, arched entryway that was decora
ted with tiny, brilliant mosaic tiles and were then led down a long hallway that had at least four large rooms connected to it, but all of the doors were shut. At the end of the hallway was another mosaic-tiled entryway, beyond which was a little alcove where drinks could be prepared and presumably served to guests in the room beyond. Then there was a heavy oak pocket door, which the servant knocked upon twice quickly before sliding it open and leading the three men inside.

  Señora Isabel was seated directly across from the entryway of a great room. She wore a dress that was a muted amethyst shade with intricate black embroidery and black lace as trim. Her black hair was pulled tightly back into some kind of braid that was twisted up into a knot, and draped over her head she wore a delicate black lace veil. It did not cover her face but looked as though it was pinned somehow into her braid. Adam figured it was probably typical apparel for a widow, albeit a very wealthy widow.

  She only had a few strands of gray hair that Adam could see. It was surprising to him that her hair was as dark as it was, considering her age. In Beaufort, older ladies almost always had hair that had either gone completely gray or white.

  The room had a domed ceiling that was cream-colored plaster with gilded beams. The walls were painted a wine red, and the furnishings all had either dark wood or gilded frames. The cushions around the room were made of silk and covered in various jewel tones. There were a few detailed Oriental rugs around the floor of the room—one very large one right in the center, then a couple of long ones that went along the sides, and a third long one that went across the back side and was just in front of where a wall made almost entirely of huge windows and two sets of double doors was.

  Señora Isabel’s guest was seated across from her but with his back towards Adam, Drake, and Martin.

  The servant announced them, and Drake began to address Señora Isabel in Spanish.

  Before he could even finish speaking, she said in English, “Tomás, I was just learning about the events that transpired this morning.”

  At that her guest whipped around in his chair and looked back at Drake, Adam, and Martin. It was Eduardo. His jaw was bruised, and his bottom lip had a dried cut and was swollen from where he’d accidentally bitten it when Adam busted him in the face back at the fortress. In a very calm voice he said something to Isabel in Spanish and glanced between her and Drake, then tipped his head in the direction of Adam and looked again squarely at Drake.