A Ship Through Time

by Bess McBride

  “Yes, it suggests—” He paused and cleared his throat. “It suggests intimacy without marriage.”

  I said nothing but turned to look at the sunset. My heart dropped to my stomach. I had quite liked the idea of becoming Daniel’s paramour at some future point, especially if we were stranded on a tropical island for an indeterminate length of time. But the revulsion in Daniel’s voice suggested he felt otherwise. I swallowed hard, knowing that I had mistaken the closeness between us. I had foolishly fantasized our relationship, imagining something that wasn’t there.

  “And I have too much respect for you to allow people to think such vile things about you.”

  “Vile?” I whispered, keeping my face fixed on the horizon.

  “Yes, of course! Loathsome indeed. No, I really must speak to the women in the morning.”

  “That will be awkward,” I murmured, trying to absorb the rejection I felt at his words, his tone. “I’ll handle it. After all, I’m the one who overheard them talking.”

  “What will you say?”

  “The truth.” The words came out in a bitter tone. “That there is no chance of such a thing.” I turned and hobbled away, ignoring Daniel’s voice as he called out my name.

  I crawled into my hut, wishing I could slam the door or close the curtain, but I had no such privacy. The men had not managed to fashion any sort of doorway, and so the huts were only three-sided. I huddled against one matted wall and listened to the wind blow. The temperature had dropped, and the air felt chill. I hugged myself, tucked my knees into my chest and did everything I could to stay awake. To fall asleep might throw me forward in time, and though Daniel didn’t feel the same about me, I wasn’t ready to leave him.

  Time passed. I wasn’t sure how much, perhaps an hour. The wind coming off the sea had begun to howl, and I heard nearby thumps and bumps. A round shape landed with a roll just in front of my hut, and I realized some of the noises I heard came from falling coconuts.

  I scrambled to my knees and peered out of the hut toward the sea, hoping that a hurricane wasn’t imminent. But the air, while moist, held no rain. The waves, visible in the moonlight, sounded peaceful enough.

  “Maggie?” a voice whispered. Daniel appeared at the opening of the hut. He crouched down to peer at me. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. The wind picked up, and I was afraid a storm was coming in.”

  He turned to look toward the water. “Everything appears calm, although the winds have grown stronger with nightfall, that is true.”

  “Yes,” I murmured. “Haven’t you slept? You need to sleep.”

  “No, I have not. Did you?”

  I didn’t answer for a moment.

  “No.”

  “What are you trying to do?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Are you trying to stay awake to avoid traveling back in time?” he whispered.

  “What?” Of course I knew what he was asking, but I pretended not to understand.

  “You know what I am asking, Maggie. Why did you not sleep?”

  “I guess I’m not sleepy.”

  “Maggie!”

  “I’m not ready to leave.” I gave in.

  “You must if you can,” Daniel said. “There is no point in you remaining here.”

  “No point?”

  “None.”

  Tears streamed down my face.

  “You don’t have to hit me over the head with it, you know.”

  “What?”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “And what do I mean?”

  “That you want me to go.”

  “I do want you to go, Maggie. This is no place for you. If you have the ability to leave, then you must go. Return to your life.”

  “Sure! And then I’ll send a rescue ship for you all,” I muttered.

  “Maggie,” he remonstrated.

  “Oh, wait! That won’t work, will it?”

  “I fear not. I am unsure why you wish to stay, but at some point, you will have to sleep.”

  “You’re unsure why I want to stay,” I repeated in a flat voice.

  “Please do not say that you are staying for me,” he said, also in a flat voice. “I do not want you to stay on this island simply for me.”

  My throat constricted, and my heart burst into a thousand pieces. No more beating around the bush. He had told me he wanted me to leave.

  “Please go away,” I said. I turned my back on him.

  “Maggie,” he said.

  “Just go. Leave!” Pain gripped my chest as I swallowed a sob. I couldn’t even breathe with him there.

  “I only want what is best for you,” he said.

  “Right! Good-bye!” I said, keeping my back to him.

  I heard a heavy sigh, as if he was about to speak again, and I rose to my knees. Lifting the matting at the opposite end of my hut, I scrambled out the other side.

  I hobbled into the underbrush, knowing he wouldn’t follow since we had unofficially set the area off as a restroom. I didn’t get far in the dark but dropped down into the sand, against the trunk of a fallen coconut tree, and I waited for Daniel to leave. I wasn’t sure how I would know when that happened, as the wind and rustling in the foliage masked the sound of footsteps, but I gave it about five minutes. Then I limped toward the beach, bypassing my hut. I moved away from the encampment and dropped down on a likely spot on the sand at the water’s edge.

  Hugging my legs to my chest, I pressed my head on my knees and tried to reason through my angst. I realized that Daniel’s desire to see me gone wasn’t personal. He wanted the best for me, and to him, that was returning to the comforts of my time, where I probably would not be stranded on a tropical island.

  Neither of us knew if that was the case, of course, but I doubted it. We seemed to have reached a mutual yet unspoken consensus that sleep was the catalyst for the time travel. And I couldn’t stay awake forever. Already, my eyes threatened to close of their own accord. The wind washing over me combined with the rhythmic sound of the waves worked to make me drowsy.

  Exhausted, I lay down in the sand and stared up at the moon. A bright beacon in any century, the round sphere grounded me. I let go and closed my eyes, unwilling to say good-bye to Daniel and unsure how to stay awake. If I could have drifted off in his arms...

  Suddenly, I felt myself lifted. Hands slid under my shoulders and lifted my upper body.

  “Daniel?”

  I heard several men’s hushed voices as I was hoisted into the air. I struggled and opened my mouth to scream, but a cloying sweet-smelling cloth came over my face, and I knew no more.

  Chapter Eight

  I awakened to dappled sunlight peeking through a massive banyan tree. Thick emerald-green jungle surrounded me. Birds chirped and flying bugs buzzed, and I swore I could hear the sound of a waterfall.

  But I wasn’t alone. Three men sat cross-legged in a circle near me, eating and speaking in low voices. Lying on my side, I froze, peeking at them through my lashes.

  Long curly black hair hung down their backs in various styles. Each man sported some sort of facial hair. A majority of their semi-naked muscular bodies revealed myriad tattoos in varying Polynesian designs. All three men wore loincloths wrapped around their hips and over their genitals.

  I couldn’t make out their language, but what I did conclude was that the island was indeed inhabited by Polynesians. It remained to be seen what they planned to do with me.

  Visions of being draped over a sacrificial altar terrified me, and I contemplated jumping up and running. Contemplated only. I knew I wouldn’t get far on my injured feet or without any idea of where we were. The lithe men before me would surely manage to catch me before I got away.

  My tongue felt thick and dry. The foul-sweet stench of the cloth they’d pressed over my face stayed with me.

  I imagined Daniel waking and not finding me there. Would he think I’d fallen asleep and traveled forward in time? And the rest of the camp? Woul
d they wonder if I’d walked into the sea? Been taken by a wild animal? I knew the group would try to look for me, but they might never suspect that I had been taken by humans.

  If Daniel believed that I’d traveled back in time, he would be disinclined to look for me. He might even tell the group the truth about me and tell them not to worry, that I was in a good place, safe in the twenty-first century.

  I peeked at the Polynesians again from under my eyelashes. Each one carried at least one weapon of some sort attached to his waist—knives, a small ax, a wooden club. My heart stopped. What if they had slaughtered Daniel and the others?

  No! I couldn’t bear the thought. No!

  I pushed myself up to a sitting position, and the three men jumped to their feet, as if to prevent me from fleeing.

  “Where are they? Did you kill them?” I begged in a raspy voice. “Please tell me you didn’t kill them.”

  I saw no sign of blood on their hands, their bodies, their weapons, but that proved nothing. I had no idea how long I’d been unconscious. It could have been hours, even days. They could have cleaned up long before I awakened.

  Of similar heights and stocky builds, the men looked at each other when I spoke, as if they didn’t understand my words. One who appeared to be in in his early twenties spoke to me. I gathered he was speaking some form of Polynesian, though I thought I recognized a French word or two, but I couldn’t be sure.

  “I don’t speak French,” I said with an agitated shake of my head. “Did you kill them? My friends. Did you kill them?”

  The one who appeared to be in charge of the group drew his dark brows together and shook his head, again as if he didn’t understand what I was saying. Lustrous black eyes stared at me. High cheekbones dominated an extraordinarily handsome face.

  What was the French word for kill, murder? I didn’t know, couldn’t think.

  “Vous morte? Morte?” What was I saying? Did that mean death? Would they think I was asking if they were going to kill me? That too!

  The exchanged a few words, and the young one rattled off a bunch of words to me. All I could do was shake my head again.

  “Vous morte ami? Mes mi?” I tried hard to recall any French words I’d ever heard. At this, the young one’s face broke into a smile, and he spoke to the others. They laughed and shook their heads.

  “Non,” the young one said. He pointed to his chest. “Kai-hau.”

  Relief flooded through me. “Non” sounded a lot like none, even no. I thought he was saying that they hadn’t killed Daniel and the others.

  Kaihau pointed to me and shrugged his shoulders in what I interpreted as an inquiry. Surely they weren’t planning on killing me if they wanted to know my name, right?

  “Maggie Wollam,” I said.

  “Ma-gee,” Kaihau repeated. The other men tried my name out as well. Kaihau touched each one on the chest and introduced them as “Aikane” and “Posoa.” Aikane and Posoa also appeared to be in their twenties and shared such similar features that I found it hard to tell them apart.

  Kaihau bent and picked up a banana, which he unpeeled and handed to me. I was more thirsty than hungry, and I made what I thought was a universal gesture of drinking. Kaihau smiled, his teeth bright white and even, and he motioned for me to follow him.

  I pushed myself to a standing position and started to hobble after him but cried out in pain. My feet hurt worse than they had before, if that was possible. I looked down at them. Even my ankles were swollen.

  Kaihau swung around to look at me and then at my bandaged feet. He motioned to Aikane and Posoa, who moved toward me. They locked arms and nodded that I should climb into the chair they formed. Feeling very foolish but less fearful of the Polynesians, given their solicitous behavior, I sat down and let them carry me toward the sound of the water.

  We emerged onto the sight of a tall, slender waterfall slipping over a black lava rock ledge before dropping into a small stream. Aikane and Posoa carried me to the edge of the stream and set me down on a rock.

  Kaihau grabbed a broad leaf from a plant, folded it and bent to fill it with water, which he then handed to me. I had already conceded that filtered water was a thing of the past—or future—and I accepted the makeshift cup gratefully and drank the cool water.

  The Polynesians watched me and talked among themselves. I understood nothing of what they were saying, but they seemed like very genial men. Why had they taken me? Surely such amiable islanders didn’t really intend to sacrifice me, did they? Or worse? No, I didn’t sense that they eyed me with lust or had plans to abuse me.

  Satiated, I patted some water on my face and stared at the waterfall, wondering if I we were still close to the encampment. Could I scream? Dared I?

  Kaihau said something, and Aikane and Posoa approached me. Once again, they locked arms, and I meekly stepped into the chair, folding my hands in my lap. Screaming for help was out of the question, and I settled in to see where they planned on taking me.

  We traveled for hours without stopping. The gentle bouncing put me to sleep a few times, and I awakened to find my head lolling on either Aikane’s or Posoa’s shoulders. I jerked straight, and they smiled. All in all, the journey should have been a girl’s dream, being toted by two handsome bare-chested men.

  The thick foliage of the jungle suggested the absence of a well-traveled path, and I doubted that Daniel or the other men would ever find a trace of us to follow. The Polynesians knew where they were going, but they left little trace of our journey. Whatever grasses they trampled sprung up again right away. If the men parted trees to pass through, the leaves sprung together again immediately.

  I had to remind myself once again that Daniel might not even suspect I had been kidnapped, that he probably assumed I had fallen asleep and disappeared in time. I suspected now that sleep wasn’t the only catalyst for the time travel. I had been well and truly unconscious for some time after the Polynesians had taken me, and I hadn’t returned to my own time.

  We emerged onto the top of a cliff. The sea lay before us, sparkling azure blue under the sun. I recognized the descriptions of the sheer cliff that stopped Daniel and the others from circumnavigating the island via the beach.

  Far down below, a pale turquoise bay nestled in between the black lava rock cliffs, effectively cutting the area off from the rest of the island. Numerous outrigger canoes dotted the shoreline. Partially visible through the trees below was a complex of round thatched-roof huts. A village, I presumed. I saw people moving around, children playing.

  Kaihau pointed to the village.

  “Leakiki,” he said.

  “Leakiki,” I repeated. Kaihau nodded. I wondered how we were going to get down to the village, and I held my breath as Aikane and Posoa handily carried me along a steep, narrow path known along the cliff face, dropping in increments until they emerged onto a lawn of mixed sand and native grass.

  The villagers, who had seemed so small from the top of the cliff, spotted us and moved forward to examine me with curiosity. Young and old, tall and short, they uniformly wore lengths of material in various configurations, the women more modestly than the men. The women accessorized their long, luxurious wavy hair with brilliant colorful flowers, while both sexes sported jewelry fashioned from dark nuts, flowers and grasses. Tattooed bodies were common, even on the women. Shoes were apparently not necessary

  A tiny wizened older woman, long curly gray hair flowing down her back, faded-red sarong tied around her neck in a figure eight, approached us, eyeing me carefully. Aikane and Posoa set me down onto the ground in a sitting position.

  She moved toward me and reached out to touch my face. Her gentle touch didn’t threaten me, and I remained still. She looked up at Kaihau and spoke. I didn’t understand what she said, but she seemed disturbed. Not so much angry as disapproving.

  Kaihau answered her in a respectful tone, but he didn’t seem cowed. He pointed to me at certain points in their conversation.

  I felt the eyes of the people upon me as
Kaihau and the older woman talked. Not at all menacing, some even smiled at me. The older woman turned and called out something to the crowd. A beautiful young woman hurried up to join us. Like many of the young people, her dark hair matched the lustrous blackness of her eyes. She wore a dark-blue sarong modestly over one shoulder, toga style.

  The older woman talked to her for a moment before she turned to me.

  “My name Losa,” the younger woman said in halting English tinged with a French accent. “Your name?” She gestured elegantly toward me.

  “You speak English!” I cried out. “Maggie Wollam!”

  She nodded, her full lips curving into a friendly smile.

  “Yes, English missionary teach. You welcome here,” she said. “This grandmother Rimu. That brother Kaihau. Cousin Posoa. That Aikane.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “Why did they kidnap me? Do you know? Are my friends okay? Did they hurt them?”

  The older woman said something, and Losa responded to her. Losa then turned to her brother, and it seemed as if they exchanged a few sharp words. Kaihau pointed to me a few times, and I knew I was at the center of their discussion. He waved a dismissive hand and stalked off.

  Losa returned her attention to me.

  “You friends no hurt. Sleeping. Kaihau take you for trade.”

  “Trade!” I barely heard her assurance that Daniel and the others were okay as I pushed myself up to stand on my feet. Pain shot through my soles, and I wobbled and grabbed Losa for support.

  “You hurt!” She looked down at my feet, then spoke to the older woman.

  “What do you mean, trade?” I interrupted. “Trade me to whom? What’s going on?”

  “Grandmother fix you feet,” she said. “Come.” She gestured toward Posoa and Aikane, who picked me up again in the chair. They carried me toward a hut situated on a slight mound above the village and deposited me inside on a woven reed mat covering much of the floor.

  “Losa! Who are they going to trade me to? Why?”

  The men backed out of the hut, leaving me with Rimu and Losa. Losa spoke to Rimu, who crouched over some pots and clay jars, busily sorting through them.