A Ship Through Time

by Bess McBride

  “Losa,” I began. “Can you ask Kaihau if the French are coming today?”

  She spoke to her brother, who responded.

  “Say yes, today,” she said.

  I bit my lip. There was no point in begging anymore. And as if I had summoned the French with my incessant questions, I saw the tip of a tall mast come into view. Aikane, facing the door, saw it as well, and he said something and pointed.

  Everyone with the exception of me jumped up and hurried to the door. I tried to push myself upright but lost my balance and fell down again.

  “Losa!” I called out. Having followed the others outside, she didn’t hear me, and I regretted speaking up. If anything, I should have avoided reminding them of my presence.

  I gritted my teeth, pushed myself upright and clung to several wooden supports in the walls of the hut. I would have tried to escape out of a back door if such a thing existed, but in the absence of such, I tiptoed slowly and painfully toward the open doorway.

  I stopped at the entrance and leaned heavily on the hewn log doorsill. Indeed, a large, tall three-masted ship moved slowly into the bay, and most of the villagers flocked down to the beach to await the ship’s arrival. I noted that many of the females ran into the jungle.

  Kaihau spoke animatedly, his excitement evident. He turned as if to enter the hut and stopped short at the sight of me. He pointed to my feet and nodded with a smile. He spoke to Losa, and she interpreted.

  “Kaihau say good feet trade.”

  My knees weakened, and I wanted to slide down to the floor, but I stood my ground. There was no point in appearing to malinger.

  Kaihau then said something to Losa, which elicited a torrent of words from Rimu and a look of shock from Losa.

  The threesome exchanged a string of what sounded like angry words before Kaihau held up an imperious hand and put a stop to the discussion.

  Losa turned to me.

  “Aikane and Posoa take you beach. I go speak French.”

  “But I thought the women were going into hiding?” I said, looking at the last of them disappear into the jungle.

  “Kaihau say me speak French. Grandmothers go see ship. Children go.”

  Kaihau spoke to Aikane and Posoa, who moved toward me. I tried to resist but they handily scooped me up into their basket hold, and away we went, heading down to the beach.

  “Losa!” I called out breathlessly as she walked behind us. “Can’t we talk about this? Am I going today?”

  “Today,” she said. “Vana home.”

  “Please, Losa!” I begged again. “Please ask Kaihau to give me some time.”

  “Please?” she repeated, seeming not to understand the rest of my words.

  I wasn’t sure how additional time would benefit me, but everything felt so rushed at the moment. I couldn’t think straight. I shook my head, huddled in the basket and terrified of what was to come.

  Chapter Ten

  Aikane and Posoa set me down on a large black volcanic boulder on the beach. Crowds of villagers swarmed the beach, waving to the ship, seemingly harboring no grudge that the French had stolen one of their own or that the majority of their young women had to go into hiding.

  I noticed that the older women and little girls had not run off to the jungle but instead held necklaces of flowers. Rimu too had followed us, but she kept a hand on Losa’s arm. Aikane move to stand by Losa in a protective manner.

  As I had seen with Kaihau, the village in general seemed to await the arrival of the French with an air of excitement, and I couldn’t really understand why, not if the French stole women willy-nilly.

  “Losa,” I called above the noisy crowd. “Why is everyone so happy to see the French?”

  Losa turned to me. “French good trade.”

  I tried to choose what few words I could use carefully. “But French take Vana? French take you?”

  Her eyes rounded, and Aikane spoke to her. Her reply seemed to incense him, and his anger was directed at me. Losa stepped between him and me and said something to soothe him. Clearly he thought I was suggesting the French take her. So much for choosing my words carefully. Even Rimu glared at me.

  “I didn’t mean the French should take you, Losa.”

  “French no take Losa. Aikane my man,” she said. Aikane grabbed Losa by the arm and angrily escorted her away from me to a spot farther down the beach. Rimu joined them, while Kaihau and Posoa remained near me.

  I sighed, frustrated that I couldn’t even make myself understood with such a simple question.

  My stomach had knotted further every time Losa had reminded me that her brother was going to try to hand me off to the French in exchange for his lost love. I almost imagined Aikane and Posoa carrying me toward a small boat, passing Vana as she was brought to shore. Perhaps we exchanged a high five at the point of exchange, or some sort. I wouldn’t even have time to ask Vana what atrocities she had experienced at the hands of the French sailors.

  I shook the image from my head but shuddered when I saw the ship drop anchor, the sails lowered. About six outrigger canoes glided away from the beach carrying men toward the ship.

  With all eyes on the French vessel, I scanned the area behind me—the village, the mountains behind it. I saw no way that I could escape, not really. All I could do was turn my attention forward and watch the canoes cleave through the turquoise lagoon.

  Even from this distance, I could see men moving about on the ship but I couldn’t make out any specific details. As soon as the canoes reached the ship, men climbed down rope ladders to jump into the small boats.

  I began to shake. Oddly, though the Polynesians had kidnapped me, I feared the French more.

  The canoes swung away from the ship and headed back to shore, carrying fully clothed men, distinct from the half-clad Polynesians. My trembling increased with every stroke of the oars. As the canoes headed straight for us, I threw another desperate glance over my shoulder in a futile search for escape. But it was too late. I turned around to watch in terror as the lead canoe beached directly in front of us.

  The villagers pulled the boat onshore, and Kaihau moved forward to hail the five sailors descending from the boat. I don’t know if I’d been expecting pegged-legged pirates, but the dark-blue uniform jackets suggested they belonged to a navy, probably the French Navy. Most of the men wore loose-fitting white trousers and shirts suitable for the tropical climate. Most covered their heads with flat-brimmed boaters.

  Speaking with Kaihau was a man of obvious authority, dressed far more meticulously than the sailors, in a trim royal-blue jacket and trousers. He removed his bicorn hat, revealing well-manicured dark curls and long sideburns. He carried a sword at his side, and like the other sailors, he sported a pistol thrust into a leather belt at his waist. At his side was another much taller man with light-brown hair and a mustache, who also appeared to be an officer.

  If I had wondered before how the Polynesians and French communicated, I realized then that Kaihau had a passing command of French. As villagers crowded around the sailors with leis of flowers and leaves, Kaihau spoke to the leader of the French sailors, gesticulating wildly and often pointing to me.

  The dark-haired officer studied me as Kaihau talked. When the group moved toward me, I cringed.

  Unexpectedly bright-blue eyes regarded me as the Frenchman stopped in front of me.

  He said something over his shoulder, and most of his men melted away into the crowd of welcoming villagers. I wondered for the tenth time how they could welcome someone who had kidnapped one of their women.

  A brief courtly bow took me by surprise.

  “Madame,” the Frenchman began in a cultured accent. “Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Captain Jean-Louis Sebastian, and this is my first officer, Lieutenant Francois Gappard. My friend Kaihau tells me your name is ‘Mah-gee’?”

  “Maggie Wollam,” I managed to squeak out through dry lips. “Look. I don’t know what Kaihau told you, but he kidnapped me, and I’m not available for trade
! No!”

  I wanted to tell him that I had friends who would come for me, but that wasn’t true. And if it were, it would only put them in danger.

  Captain Sebastian blinked.

  “You are American, madame?”

  I nodded. He turned to speak to Kaihau, but I couldn’t make out any words. They spoke at length, Kaihau very animated, the captain noncommittal. Lieutenant Gappard watched the proceedings intently.

  Captain Sebastian returned his attention to me again.

  “I see,” he said. “Kaihau is misinformed about Vana. I say this to you in English, given that he does not understand. We did not take his woman. Vana asked to come with us. She fell in love with my second mate, Charles, and she has gone to live on another island where he has a house.”

  Kaihau looked at us hopefully.

  “Why didn’t you tell him?” I asked.

  “These matters of the heart are very delicate.” He cast a sideways glance at Kaihau. “And I am not prepared to engage in a war with Kaihau over a woman. You see happiness and gaiety around you as they greet us, but do not for one moment, madame, believe that they will not attack us and slit our throats or rip out our entrails if they believe they have been wronged.”

  Despite the warm sunshine, a cold shiver ran down my back.

  “And you? How came you to be on this island? From where did Kaihau kidnap you?”

  “We were shipwrecked.”

  “And who is we?”

  I hesitated. I had no idea what the status of the French and Americans was in 1847. I didn’t think we’d been at war, but I couldn’t remember my history, and at the moment, I was too panicked to think straight.

  If not, if Captain Sebastian was as reasonable as he appeared, could he sail around the island to rescue Daniel and the others?

  I simply couldn’t think things through at the moment.

  Kaihau, growing impatient, interrupted in a spatter of French. Captain Sebastian responded to him slowly, as if he sought the right words. Even in a foreign language, I could tell he was stalling. I heard Vana’s name mentioned.

  The captain turned to me.

  “No matter, I think I must send you to the ship at once, Madame Wollam, for your safety. We have some business to conduct here on the island and do not set sail until the morning, but I fear Kaihau grows angry that I am not able to produce Vana today. Lieutenant Gappard will accompany you to the ship.”

  I opened my mouth to protest. Captain Sebastian had seemed so reasonable. Couldn’t he just let me go?

  “Kaihau angry?” Losa asked me. I hadn’t noticed Losa and Aikane approach from behind. Kaihau spat some words out at her and pointed to the captain. The situation seemed to be escalating. Kaihau, normally genial, had a stubborn streak.

  Captain Sebastian spoke to them in French again. In a side voice, he said to me, “I am telling them that Vana is not on the ship but on another island and that I cannot return her today.”

  Kaihau’s voice deepened, and he developed a decidedly unpleasant snarl when he spoke.

  “No Vana?” Losa asked me. I didn’t dare answer her. Things were escalating, and I needed to keep my wits about me.

  “Francois,” Captain Sebastian said in a low voice. “Be prepared to take Madame Wollam aboard one of the canoes.”

  “What?” I whispered. “No! Wait!”

  Losa looked confused, and Kaihau’s eyes darkened.

  “Do you wish to stay here, madame?” Captain Sebastian said without taking his attention off Kaihau. “As a captive?”

  “I’ll be a captive on your ship, Captain, unless you’re agreeing to—” I stopped short. Return me to the other side of the island? Pick Daniel and the others up? And do what with them?

  “Are you at war with the Americans or anything?”

  “I beg pardon?” Captain Sebastian looked as if he barely heard me. Francois moved around to my side as if to grab me. Kaihau laid a restraining hand on my arm. Aikane and Posoa menaced, their substantially muscular chests growing visibly bigger as they inhaled deeply. Losa fretted in a combination of French and Polynesian words.

  Captain Sebastian’s next words to Kaihau took on a soothing tone. Kaihau calmed, albeit slowly.

  “What ails your feet, madame?” Francois whispered to me. “Can you walk?”

  “No, not very well. I cut them on coral.”

  Francois swept me up into his arms, and I looked over toward Kaihau. At that point I didn’t know whom to trust, but screaming wasn’t an option. It would only escalate matters.

  Kaihau’s tight face showed his anger, though he seemed bent on keeping it in check.

  “No take!” Losa said, hurrying toward Francois.

  Kaihau barked at her, and she stopped short, turning to throw me a concerned look.

  “Mag-hee,” she said, holding up a hand in farewell.

  Francois moved away with me toward the outrigger canoe, and at a word from Kaihau, several Polynesians jumped into the boat. I looked over Francois’s shoulder to see Captain Sebastian speaking to the group, his hands raised as if to calm them.

  Francois deposited me onto a bench in the canoe and jumped in behind me. The Polynesians pushed off, and the boat glided out into the lagoon. I looked back toward shore. Captain Sebastian, still alive and on both feet, moved with Kaihau and the group toward the village. Unaware of the tension surrounding the meeting, the rest of the Polynesians sang and danced. I saw myriad puffs of smoke throughout the village from what I assumed were roasting pits. It appeared as if a feast was about to get underway...for everyone except the young women hiding in the jungle.

  The ship, a massive wooden hulk with three tall masts supporting furled sails, loomed larger as we approached. I threw a longing look over my shoulder again. I didn’t want to leave the island, didn’t want to leave Daniel behind. But freedom of choice was something I hadn’t enjoyed in quite some time.

  The canoe came up alongside the massive dark timbers on the hull of the ship. I looked up several stories to see an ominous row of cannons that stretched from stern to bow.

  “If you please, madame,” Francois said, standing to take my hand. I gasped as he hoisted me over his shoulder like a child on a piggyback ride.

  “Hold tightly,” he advised as he climbed up a ladder rope. To say that I felt foolish wrapping my legs around the waist of a strange man didn’t do justice to the surreal moment.

  I marveled at Francois’s strength as he handily hauled both of us up the steep sides of the ship. Several sailors on deck awaited us, and Francois dropped me in the surprised arms of a foul-smelling, burly red-bearded middle-aged French sailor.

  “Madame,” the sparsely toothed man said in a form of greeting.

  “Hello,” I said, loosely wrapping my arms around his thick neck.

  Francois said something to the redhead, and he followed Francois across the deck and toward a door. I would have stuck my feet out to block our entry if I could, but at the last minute, I remembered why I was being carried. My feet would not have welcome being used so forcefully.

  “Red” carried me through the door, huffing and puffing. Probably twenty years older than Francois and a great deal heavier, he struggled under my weight.

  “I can try to walk,” I said.

  He scrunched his forehead and shook his head.

  “Do you speak English?”

  “Red” apparently spoke just enough English to shake his head again.

  “Non,” he said. “Je ne parle pas anglais.”

  Francois paused before a door and opened it, allowing “Red” to carry me through into a cabin not much larger than a walk-in closet.

  “I am sorry, madame. The captain and I are the only ones who speak English. Jacques will see to your needs. I must return to shore.”

  As Jacques set me down onto a small trundle bunk attached to a wall, Francois spoke to him, gave me a short salute and left the cabin.

  I eyed my burly redheaded captor/caretaker as he leaned over a small dresser and checke
d the contents of a pewter pitcher near a bowl of the same material.

  He turned and rattled off some words in French. I think I understood the word for water. He made a universal gesture of hand to mouth and lifted his bushy eyebrows, as if asking about food. I shrugged. Hunger was the last thing on my mind. Jumping off the boat appealed to me more.

  Jacques returned my shrug and left the cabin. I heard the door lock behind him, but that didn’t deter me from climbing off the bed and crawling over to the door to pull at the lever. Locked. No way out. So, I was a prisoner after all, no matter how nice Captain Sebastian had seemed.

  I crawled back to the bed, hoisted myself up and settled back down on top of the gray blanket, listening to the occasional creaking of timber as the ship bobbed in calm waters. I heard occasional random shouts by men on deck, but nothing in their tone suggested alarm. All seemed peaceful, except the tumult in my heart and brain.

  I worried that I might never see Daniel again. Unless I told Captain Sebastian about the others, how would it be possible? But I was locked in a cabin on board the French naval vessel. If I’d had any trust for the captain at all, I had lost that when they locked me in, perhaps when Francois had manhandled me onto the ship.

  So no, I wasn’t inclined to tell the French about my group of fellow castaways. But if I couldn’t see Daniel again, I prayed I would be able to return to the twenty-first century.

  Jacques returned in a few minutes with a wooden bowl of some kind of broth and a slab of brown bread. I took them from him gingerly, fairly sure I had no intention of eating either. Food on a nineteenth-century ship and food on a tropical island seemed worlds apart in terms of health consequences.

  “When is Captain Sebastian coming back to the ship?” I asked.

  Jacques tilted his head.

  “Captain Sebastian?” he repeated.

  “Oui!” I nodded, daring to use a random word of French. “When is he coming back?”

  I couldn’t understand Jacques’s response, and the vigorous shake of his head showed he didn’t understand me. I sighed heavily and gave him a faint nod.

  Jacques left, locking the door behind him. I sniffed the soup, but the pungent odor and odd bits of unidentifiable items floating around discouraged me from even trying it. The bread, hard as a rock, worried me. I had no dental coverage in the nineteenth century. I bent over and set the food down on the floor.