by Bess McBride
I lay down on the bed in the darkened room and wished myself to sleep. The flip-flops dug into my back, and I rotated onto my side. Willing myself to sleep again, I thought about Daniel, imagining his tanned wide forehead, bright smile and the shining dark hair that curled just below his ears.
Silently, I called out to him.
Daniel! Daniel.
I steadied my breathing and inhaled deeply to take in more oxygen. I relaxed my eyelids and consciously allowed my mouth to go slack. Trying to ignore an itch on my leg and the urge to open my eyes, I silently chanted Daniel’s name over and over, like a mantra.
I lay on the bed for what seemed like hours—full of undigested food, suffocating in layers of clothing, and terrified I might not be able to get back to Daniel.
Finally, I opened my eyes to look at the clock: 3:00 p.m. It had been hours since I’d closed my eyes. A dark hopelessness gripped me, and hot tears spilled from the corners of my eyes.
I imagined Daniel looking for me, waiting for me. No, I couldn’t give up. I had to keep trying to get back to him. I pressed my eyelids shut again and concentrated on the memory of Daniel’s warm brown gaze.
In the quiet room, I could hear my pulse pounding in my ears. I suspected I was too anxious, too overwrought to sleep. I imagined cute little sheep jumping over a fence, and while the scene amused, I couldn’t help wonder why the sheep were jumping over a bit of fencing. Perhaps to get to the other side.
“Daniel,” I whispered aloud. “Where are you?”
I remembered sitting with him by the edge of the pool, the delightful silky feel of the warm water on my skin.
I fell over the cliff into sleep.
A familiar creaking sound and the harsh odor of pitch hinted at my location even before I opened my eyes. Sitting up, I recognized the cabin by its resemblance to a closet. I was in the cabin on the French ship. Moonlight filtered in the single porthole, and I swung my legs over the edge of the wooden bunk.
“Daniel!” I whispered urgently. I prayed that I hadn’t gone back too far in time, that Daniel was indeed aboard the ship and I wasn’t being transported away from him.
I climbed out of the bed and made my way to the cabin door. The ship swayed, and I knew we were underway. I pulled on the door, assuming it was locked, but it opened with a creak. I stepped out into the narrow dark hall before turning left to climb the stairs leading to the deck.
A cool breeze hit me as I neared the top. I stepped out and walked straight into the arms of Captain Sebastian.
“Madame Wollam! Is it you?” He held me out at arm’s length and looked me up and down with narrowed eyes.
“Where have you been, madame? Where did you go? You found some clothing, I see. Where have you been?”
“I can’t say,” I mumbled, pulling from his grasp. He let me go but continued to run his eyes up and down my body.
“What do you mean you cannot say? You vanished right before our eyes. Simply vanished, and now you have reappeared, dressed in new clothing and altered in appearance.”
I looked beyond him. The deck was largely quiet. The moon and stars shone down on us. White sails billowed in the wind.
“Altered?” I mumbled.
“More plump, healthier. Though how this can be over the space of a few hours, I cannot imagine.”
“I’m wearing layered clothing.”
I looked beyond him again.
“Where is Dr. Hawthorne?”
“Not here,” Captain Sebastian said.
“What?” I almost shrieked. “Where is he?”
“When you vanished, he refused to leave and returned to the island to await your return, he claimed. Your entire group accompanied him.”
“Back to the island! No, he knew if I could come back, it would be to a ship. He must have known that. Didn’t we talk about that?”
“What is this? Come back? Madame, come and have some cognac to calm yourself. You are obviously in great distress! Your words make no sense!”
“No, I can’t,” I said, clutching Captain Sebastian’s sleeve. “I have to get back to the island. I have to!”
“Madame, we are too far out to sea to return to the island now. I think it best you travel with us to Tahiti, as we discussed. Perhaps you can send a ship for Dr. Hawthorne and your companions when you reach Tahiti. If you have the funds, of course.”
Money! Where was I going to find money?
“No, please, Captain Sebastian. Please. Take me back to the island. How far away are you?”
“We sailed at first light, Madame Wollam. It is now six in the evening. With tailwinds, we made one hundred fifty miles today. It would take us twice that to return to the island if those winds continue to prevail. The men wish to reach Tahiti to enjoy the fruits of our voyages. I cannot turn back.”
Tears streamed down my face. Tahiti! What was I going to do in Tahiti without money? Without Daniel?
I dragged in a deep breath to steady myself. I supposed all I really needed to extricate myself from this mess was to return to the cabin and go back to sleep. If I did that though, I probably had no chance of getting back to Daniel, none. I needed a ship in the nineteenth century.
“How far is Tahiti?”
“Please do not weep, Madame Wollam.” The captain extracted a handkerchief from the pocket of his coat. “I cannot bear to see a lady cry. It is approximately six days, perhaps more, perhaps less if we are lucky.”
I saw Francois approach and behind him, my old keeper, Jacques. And I remembered Vana, on a nearby island.
“Are there any islands near where we are now? Like the one you said Vana lives on? Where you can drop me off and it won’t cost me so much to try and return to Leakiki?”
“We pass close to that island late at night, but it would be a great inconvenience to anchor the ship and take you ashore. What will you do there? Do you have any money to buy a boat? A crew to return you to the island?”
I shook my head.
“No, not a nickel.”
“A nickel?”
“No money,” I amended.
Captain Sebastian sighed heavily. He looked over his shoulder at Francois and Jacques, then turned back to face me.
“My dear Madame Wollam. I fear your tears have touched me. Perhaps I can assist you in this matter,” he murmured. “I could give you a small sum to buy a boat, perhaps even to hire a crew, but it seems inconceivable to me that you could actually command such a crew.”
Francois cleared his throat and spoke in French. The captain looked at him in surprise. They spoke for a minute, with Jacques adding comments. On exhausted legs, I watched them and tried to pick out words I understood. I heard none other than references to me.
Captain Sebastian turned back to me with a wry expression.
“It seems you have a champion in my first officer. Francois wishes to guide you in purchasing a boat and finding a crew. Jacques has offered to help. I cannot be without both, but Francois insists that a woman alone cannot manage. I am in agreement. I will loan Francois to you for a brief period. He will help you get back to Leakiki.”
I turned and looked at the tall man, studiously staring down at his boots.
“Francois! Thank you! Thank you!” I said, throwing myself against him. He stiffened and set me back.
“It is nothing, madame. You are very persistent, and I fear for your safety. Though I think the best we can do is an outrigger canoe.”
“A canoe? Over open ocean?” I gasped.
“The Polynesians have traveled great distances in the larger outrigger canoes. I will hire some Polynesians to row. Sometimes it is better to row than await fortunate winds.”
Captain Sebastian eyed us. “That is settled then. We shall reach Pokulau in a few hours. Perhaps you would care for a meal?”
I shook my head. “I actually just ate. I’ll just wait up here if that’s all right.”
“As you wish, madame.” Captain Sebastian turned and spoke to Francois and Jacques, who moved off to do whatever
he requested. He bowed to me.
“I have some matters to attend to, Madame Wollam. Until later.”
I nodded and wandered down the deck to find a seat on a wooden storage locker where I could watch the sailors, the stars, the moon and the dark water slip silently by.
As promised, within a few hours, we dropped anchor in a small bay not much larger than the one near the village on Leakiki. I was on my feet and following Francois around long before he was ready to disembark. Before we climbed down the rope ladder to the waiting rowboat, Captain Sebastian pressed a bag of coins in my hand and spoke to Francois.
Returning his attention to me, the captain took my hand in his.
“Bon chance, Madame Wollam. It is probably untimely of me to say, but I do regret not meeting you before. One never knows what might have happened between us had we met before your engagement. It is not too late to change your mind?”
Chapter Seventeen
“No,” I said, my cheeks burning. “I need to get back.”
“My loss,” he said, released me and pressed a courtly hand over his heart with a smile. “Francois will assist you in whatever you need.”
“How does Francois get back to you, to the ship?”
“Francois and I have discussed that. We will return to Leakiki in several months. We will collect him then.”
“A couple months?” I repeated.
Francois nodded and spoke. “Do not worry, madame. I will occupy myself until they return for me.”
I remembered the beautiful women on the island, and I imagined that Francois would do just fine, if they allowed the young women out to see Francois.
“Thank you for the money, Captain Sebastian,” I said, stuffing the coins into my shorts pocket with difficulty. “I don’t know if I can ever repay you, but I can never thank you enough.”
“It is my pleasure to assist you, Madame Wollam,” he said. He took my hand and kissed it before helping me over the railing and onto the rope ladder. My athletic shoes helped considerably.
Francois, carrying a lantern, followed me down into the skiff to join four other sailors, who manned the oars. I could see little of the island in the dark, but the French seemed to know what they were doing. We rowed up onto shore, and two of the men lifted me out of the boat and carried me onto dry sand. I understood enough French to know that the men bid Francois farewell before they pushed the boat back into the water and jumped in to row back to the ship.
“Come, madame. We will go into the village.” Francois put a hand under my arm and held the lantern as he guided me along a sandy path that led up a hill. He seemed to know his way around, but I couldn’t make out much of the landscape in the dark.
We crested the hill, little more than a sand dune really, and came upon a small village of huts, visible only because a few sleepy fires continued to burn.
“The village sleeps,” he said. “We will go to the chief.” He led me into the village and past several thatched huts, coming to a stop in front of one. He called out in French, and an older man with long silvery hair came to the door and looked out at us.
The man, clearly taken by surprise, came out and greeted Francois. A simple grayish sarong around his waist competed his ensemble. He eyed me with curiosity and spoke to Francoise again.
“Non,” said Francois. He turned to me and spoke in English. “Madame Wollam, may I present Ikale, chief of this village?”
I nodded and Francois continued.
“He asked if you were my wife, and I said no.”
Francois then returned his attention to the chief, who took Francois’s lantern from him, as if receiving a gift. I suspected Francois would not get it back, but he seemed unsurprised.
By this time, a tall similarly silver-haired woman came out of the hut. Her sarong covered her upper torso, ending at her knees.
Francois spoke in French, and the couple began talking rapidly, gesturing to me.
“Is this about the boat?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. “And Vana.”
“Vana!” I exclaimed.
“Yes, they say they want us to take her back to Leakiki. She is not happy here. Her sailor left her.”
“With us?” I asked, visions of a little outrigger canoe getting smaller all the time as we sailed across open ocean.
Francois spoke to the couple, who nodded and responded.
“Yes, they wish to send her back with us. They say her unhappiness is spreading throughout the village, and if we do not take her, they are prepared to send her out to sea on her own. I do not think she could survive.”
“Well, of course we’ll take her.”
Francois nodded and responded to the elderly couple. They beamed, both of them missing a few teeth here and there. They spoke again, gesturing for us to enter the hut. I followed Francois into a hut that shared the same characteristics as those in the village on Leakiki. Woven palm fronds were used as matting and walls. Timbers supported the structure, and palm fronds were used for decoration, often interwoven with flowers.
Surrounded by a ring of rocks, a small fire burned in the middle of the hut. A beautiful young Polynesian woman sat demurely in a corner of the room, her legs tucked beneath her. Her waist-length wavy black hair glowed almost red in the reflection of the fire, or perhaps it was the ruby-red sarong that gave her hair a russet tone.
Lustrous black eyes and full lips formed a sullen expression as she eyed us. She looked me up and down, her eyes widening before she spoke to the older couple in Polynesian.
I looked to Francois, who stared mesmerized at the beauty. Vana, I presumed. Francois looked smitten, and I knew that didn’t bode well for the French lieutenant, since Kaihau thought Vana was his girl.
The exchange between the older couple and the young woman sounded sharp, argumentative. The older couple must have prevailed though, because they turned from Vana and pointed to Francois and me to sit. They took seats on mats themselves and directed Vana to serve us with a wooden cup of some sort of delicious fruit juice. Ikale set the lantern down in front of his wife, and together they admired it.
I assumed Vana had been staying with the chief and his wife since her sailor left her and that she had been acting as a servant of some sort. Francois, after an exchange with the older couple, confirmed my thoughts.
“Vana has been waiting upon the chief and his wife in exchange for food and a bed.” I looked over at the mat upon which Vana sat, thinking the term “bed” was stretching things a bit.
“She looks angry,” I said out of the corner of my mouth while attempting to maintain a pleasant smile.
“She is,” he said. “She does not wish to return to Leakiki. She says there is nothing for her there. Kaihau will probably not take her back, and she has no family.”
“But she can’t stay here?”
“No, several breadfruit trees have died since she arrived, and the village believes she brings ill spirits to them. They want her to leave.”
“Poor thing,” I said, though it was hard to sympathize with the glowering young woman. I glanced back at Francois, who had returned to staring at her.
“Francois,” I whispered. “When can we leave? Did you ask them about a boat or a canoe and a crew?”
Francois dragged his eyes from Vana, glanced at me and nodded. He turned to the older couple and spoke to them in French. They discussed something for a while before Francois spoke to me.
“Give me two of the coins,” he said. “They will give us a canoe and four men to row it.”
“Two?” I asked. “But I have a whole bag of gold.”
“Keep the gold. You may need it someday. Just two coins.”
Without pulling the bag from my pocket, I reached in, fingered two coins and extracted them to hand to Francois. The chief and his wife grinned upon receiving the coins.
“Can we go now?” I asked.
Francois turned to me, his dark eyebrows raised. “No, Madame Wollam. We cannot leave until first light. It is much too dark to set ou
t on such a journey tonight.”
“Noooo,” I groaned in exasperation. But I knew he was right. If I had been wondering where we were to sleep, the chief’s wife answered my question. She pointed to a corner of the hut and spoke to Francois, who translated.
“The chief’s wife has graciously invited us to stay in their hut tonight.” The bronzing on his tanned angular cheeks could have been from the fire or could have been from heightened emotion as he returned to staring at Vana, who generally ignored him.
“Here? With all these people?” I looked around the hut.
Francois dragged his attention back to me.
“Yes, of course. The Polynesians are happy to share their homes. They are very friendly.”
Except for Vana, I thought.
Knowing I wouldn’t sleep a wink that night, I acquiesced.
“I need to—” I waggled my eyebrows at Francois, who narrowed his eyes in seeming confusion and shook his head.
“Outside?” I nodded toward the door.
“Ah!” he said, his cheeks continuing to redden. “I am certain that if you go outside to the back of the hut, you will find what you need.”
I nodded, my own cheeks red, and I rose to walk to the door. I could hear the people behind me speaking rapidly and assumed they asked where I was going.
I stepped outside and dragged in a breath of fresh air. The village was largely quiet, but I could see the embers of a few fires and hear a smattering of voices. I walked around to the back of the hut and by odor detected the appropriate area. I would have killed for a real outhouse but made do with a pit carved into lava rock.
I jumped up and retreated from the area, reluctant to return to the hut. Still, with no idea of where to wander in the darkness, I made my way back to the front of the hut, where I found Francois awaiting me, having apparently managed to tear himself away from Vana.
