“Twelve! Practically a teenager!” said Gaga, as they cleared the dishes. “Watch out, Matthew and Belamie, they can be pretty explosive.”
“Not my Mateo,” said Mrs. Hudson. “He’s always calm, always makes good choices.”
“Yes, I thought the same thing about my Matty,” said Gaga, shooting a severe look toward her son, “and before I knew it, he was stealing cars and crashing them into barns.”
Corey almost dropped a stack of plates. “Whaaaaat?”
“Mom!” said Mr. Hudson, his face flushing red. “I didn’t steal the car! Chuck said I could borrow it any time I wanted.”
“You stole Chuck’s car?” said Ruby. “That rusty old bus?”
“It’s a classic,” said Mr. Hudson. “But a little more difficult to steer than I anticipated.”
Mrs. Hudson put a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “My Mateo will not be stealing cars or driving them, will you, Mateo?”
Matt shook his head. He didn’t think he’d have a chance to drive a car even if he wanted to. His mother barely let him ride in one.
“You’ll have to let them go someday, Belamie,” said Gaga.
Mrs. Hudson stiffened and opened her mouth to make some retort, but Mr. Hudson jumped in.
“Let’s have cake, shall we?” he said, jumping up from the table. “I’ll get the lighter!”
Mr. Hudson lit the candles, and Gaga carried the cake toward Matt.
“Twins, get the lights!” she said.
Corey and Ruby went and turned off the lights. With the shades drawn it was quite dark except for the cake topped with twelve flickering candles. The peanut butter aroma wafted up Matt’s nose. It almost made him dizzy. He felt like the room was shifting ever so slightly.
They sang “Happy Birthday.” Mr. Hudson sang very off-key. He’d never been able to carry a tune, which always made the rest of the family laugh. Corey, however, sang opera-style and sounded surprisingly good, especially at the end when he raised the final three notes above the rest. Everyone clapped and cheered, and Corey took a bow.
“Make a wish, Mateo!” said Ruby.
Make a wish. What should he wish for? He reached in his pocket, grasped his compass. It was a silly wish. Nothing would come of it of course, but . . .
“Quick before the candles melt,” said Gaga.
“Here, I’ll help you,” said Corey. He took a deep breath.
“Don’t!” Matt laughed as he tried to push Corey away. But Corey was like an overzealous puppy. He jumped onto a chair and leaned over Matt as he tried to blow out his candles. Matt pitched forward and went right into the cake. The candles went out, and the room went dark, almost pitch-black.
“Aw, man, Corey!” Matt pulled himself up, cake and frosting all over his hands and shirt. And his compass. He’d been holding it when he blew out his candles, and now it was smeared with globs of peanut butter frosting. It would take him forever to clean it.
He tried to rub it off on his shirt. The compass made a small but distinct click!
“What was that noise?” said Mrs. Hudson. “Mateo?”
“Ruby, turn on the lights,” said Mr. Hudson.
Matt couldn’t speak. He felt a strange sensation overcome him, a faint tingling from head to toe. And then . . .
Thpt!
When the lights flicked on, Matt was gone.
6
Retro-Mom
When Matt was in third grade, he’d conducted a science experiment where he placed a boiled egg on top of a narrow bottle with a lit candle at the bottom. The heat expanded the molecules, creating a vacuum that then sucked the egg through the narrow opening. Matt now knew what it felt like to be the egg. He was currently being sucked through a very narrow bottleneck. He could feel it squeezing his guts, his brains, his eyeballs, until finally phlp! he shot out of the end.
It was dark and cold wherever he was, and when he tried to take a breath he started to choke and cough, but no sound came out. Only bubbles. He was in water. He saw weak gray light above, and with burning lungs and aching limbs he clawed his way to the surface. Matt gasped for breath and then coughed the water out of his lungs. He treaded water frantically, turning in all directions. Water, water, water, sky, sky, sky. Land! He was quite far from the shore, but there was a city with buildings and boats dotting the shoreline. Where was he? What had just happened? One moment he had been blowing out his birthday candles and the next . . .
Matt lifted his hand that had been holding his compass. Globs of frosting and a few cake crumbs were still stuck in the grooves. The frosting . . . it was peanut butter frosting. Peanut butter . . .
Peanut butter!
Matt laughed out loud and punched his fist out of the water, splashing himself in the face. Peanut butter was the magic ingredient! His compass worked! It worked!
And now what? Where and when had he traveled? Matt looked at the compass again and tried to decipher where he’d had the settings. He remembered while running tests on the compass, he’d put in different dates and coordinates. He’d written them down in his notebook, but he couldn’t recall the last one he’d entered.
Something moved beneath him.
Matt flailed his arms as he momentarily went under water. He kicked his legs furiously. He pictured a shark coming after him. The theme music for Jaws played in his head.
He felt tremors from deep down. The water darkened beneath him. This was bigger than a shark, whatever it was. Maybe it was a whale, like in Moby Dick, or a giant squid, like in Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, sucking him into its giant tentacles. But then he realized it couldn’t be any of those things. This water wasn’t salty, it was fresh. He had to be in a lake.
The water began to bubble and churn. Matt grasped for the compass and frantically tried to turn the dials. He didn’t think about where he would be going. He just knew he had to get out of here, but before he could complete the first turn, something caught his feet from underneath.
Matt shouted as he was pushed up and out of the water. A thick beam rose up between his arms and legs. Matt grasped onto it, whatever it was, as he was carried higher and higher into the sky.
It was a ship. He was holding on to a mast while white sails unfurled like giant wings all around him. A small platform appeared beneath him, then circular bars. A flag snapped out in front of his face. Matt’s heart skipped a few beats. It was black with a white compass star and a red V in the center.
This wasn’t just any ship. He was in the crow’s nest of the Vermillion! There was his name carved on the mast, his and Corey’s and Ruby’s, just as they had been before.
Matt looked down on the deck. He didn’t see anyone, but he wasn’t sure if he should go down. What if this was a time when he was on the ship? He couldn’t risk seeing himself. Then again, he already knew his past self on board the Vermillion never did see his future self, so he was pretty sure he was safe in that regard. But what if it was after he’d left? Then he was in an even more precarious position. Captain Vincent was his enemy now, and by extension, all the crew, except Jia, of course. Could Jia be here now? Was it possible that Matt had intercepted the Vermillion before Captain Vincent could discard Jia? He could rescue her. He could take her back with him to New York, assuming he could get back . . .
Matt waited a few more minutes. Still no one came above deck. Slowly, he climbed down from the crow’s nest and landed on the main deck. He tiptoed quietly toward the stairs that would lead to belowdecks. It felt strange to be back on the Vermillion. It had only been a matter of weeks, but it felt like years, and somehow the ship felt different. It all looked the same, but it was different somehow. Perhaps it was after he’d left. Maybe the Vermillion could sense an intruder.
Bang!
Something whistled right past Matt’s ear. He ducked down and covered his head.
Matt heard footsteps coming toward him, and then the heavy click of someone cocking their gun. “Who are you?”
Matt slowly uncovered his head and looked up. Whatever he wa
s expecting to see, it surely wasn’t a little girl aiming a rifle right at his head. But that’s what he saw. She was young, probably only nine or ten. She was smaller than Ruby. She had long brown hair pulled into a messy braid. She wore a blue dress that reminded Matt of Little House on the Prairie, and she held a double-barreled shotgun that looked bigger and heavier than her, but she looked sure and confident. Matt was guessing she had good reason to be.
“I said who are you?” the girl repeated. “Where did you come from? You spying on Captain Bonnaire? No lies. I can always smell a lie, and liars deserve to be shot like a rabid dog.”
Captain Bonnaire . . . This girl was one of his mother’s old crew!
Bang!
Matt yelped as he felt the bullet rip through his hair. “I’m Mateo!” he blurted, holding his hands up in the air. “I’m Captain Bonnaire’s son from the future!”
The girl lowered her gun and squinted at Matt, and then her eyes widened. “Is that Captain’s magic compass? Is that how you got here?”
Matt looked at his hand. He was still clutching his compass.
“You are her son, aren’t you? Is Vince your papa, then?”
Matt shook his head. “No. My father’s not a time pirate.” He slipped his compass back in his pocket.
The girl put her gun down. “Well, that’s in your favor, at least. Might have had to shoot you if Vince were your papa, even if Captain Bonnaire is your mama.”
Matt thought that was curious and couldn’t help expressing it. “Why do you say that?” Matt asked.
“Because Vincent is a viper.” She reached in her pocket and pulled out a couple of bullets. She placed them between her teeth as she opened her gun and loaded it. “He acts all gooey and lovey-dovey to the captain, but all he wants is her magic compass. I caught him trying to steal it once, when she was sleeping. I stopped him, nearly shot his head off. He swears he wasn’t trying to steal it, and of course Captain believed him and not me, and I got in all kinds of trouble, but I know what I saw. He was trying to steal her magic compass, and he’s gonna try to steal it again. But he must not get it, does he?” She said this as though she were just coming to this realization. “Not if you’re here. I’ll bet Captain Bonnaire finds him out and she discards him, doesn’t she? Ooh, I hope he goes someplace terrible, like a black pit full of poisonous snakes. And then she gave the compass to you, and now you’re the captain of the Vermillion, aren’t you? Am I on your crew in the future? What is your time, actually? Or do you have no time? Were you born on the Vermillion?” She snapped her rifle back into place.
Matt shook his head. “No.” He wasn’t sure how to answer all the rest of her questions or contradict her assumptions, but it didn’t matter, because there was some kind of commotion coming from belowdecks, and it was getting louder. Matt heard stomps and shuffling footsteps, accompanied by the clanking of metal.
“Oh great, here they come,” said the girl.
“Who?”
“Captain—your mama—and Vince.”
Matt started to panic. “She can’t see me!” he said. “She’s not supposed to see me!”
“But isn’t that why you’re here?”
Matt scrambled on the deck until he found some barrels stacked on the side of the ship. He ducked down and a moment later the girl joined him, just as two people came up the stairs from belowdecks, a man and a woman, clanking swords as they moved. Matt positioned himself so he could see between the barrels.
The woman laughed, and a chill suddenly ran down Matt’s spine. It was indeed his mother, but long before she’d become his mom, long before she was Mrs. Hudson, so in a way this wasn’t really his mother, not as he knew her anyway. This was Belamie Bonnaire. She looked to be in her early twenties. Her thick, dark hair was tied back, a few strands loose around her face. She was wearing black leather pants and boots, much like a typical pirate, but to his surprise and delight, her top was an old-school pinstripe New York Mets jersey, tied at the waist. It was just like the one his dad had hanging in his closet, even the same name and number on the back. Strawberry 18. Had his parents met already?
Around her neck she wore a gold chain that disappeared beneath her jersey. Matt guessed the Obsidian Compass was attached to it, hidden by her shirt. Matt’s own compass grew warm inside his pocket, as if it recognized a fellow.
Belamie smiled as she sparred with Captain Vincent. Or just Vincent. He wasn’t captain right now. He looked even more different than his mother did. He had no beard. His face was much younger, and his hair was longer. He wasn’t wearing all black either, or his red Converse, just some old-fashioned trousers and boots and a loose-fitting shirt, open at the chest.
“You’re getting better, Vince,” said Belamie as she blocked one of Vincent’s thrusts and then parried.
“Better than you?” said Vincent.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Belamie sparred with one arm behind her back, eyes sparkling in such a way that told Matt she wasn’t really trying her hardest, but Vincent was. His brow was furrowed in concentration and sweat ran down his face and neck as he wielded his sword, striking with all his might while the young Belamie met every blow with ease, each step a dance, until she pulled a quick move and Vincent dropped his sword.
Belamie pointed her sword at Vincent’s chest. “Surrender, Vince, and admit that I’m the best!”
Vincent lifted his hands in the air. “I surrender, Captain. You are the best.” He took a bow, then raised his head and smiled mischievously. With a quick motion he put the toe of his boot beneath his sword and kicked it up into his hand. Matt almost shouted at his mother to look out, but it seemed she was expecting this. She pirouetted behind Vincent and swung her sword around, stopping just short of his neck. Vincent immediately dropped his sword. Belamie picked it up and crossed the blades around his neck like a pair of open scissors. “When you’re beaten, you’re beaten,” she said, her face close to his. “Don’t try to push your luck.”
Vincent smiled at Belamie in a way that made Matt feel a little bit squeamish. “One day, Bel,” he said. “I’ll best you one day.”
“I look forward to it,” said Belamie, removing the blades and handing Vince back his sword. “It gets a little boring being the best all the time.”
“Really?” said Vincent, cocking one eyebrow. “Then why are you searching for the Aeternum? If being the best is such a bore, you’ll be bored forever.”
Matt’s ears prickled. The Aeternum . . . It took him a moment to file through his brain and place the word. It was Latin, he was quite certain, and he had a vague idea that it meant something like “forever” or “eternity.” Something like that, but it sounded like Vincent was talking about an object, not just some expression of infinity. Matt looked questioningly at the girl with the gun, but she just shrugged.
“Well, that’s different, isn’t it?” said Belamie. “When we have the Aeternum we will be the best together. Forever. And that won’t be boring, will it?”
“No, it will not.” Vincent leaned down toward Belamie. Matt closed his eyes. They were going to kiss. He could barely stand it when his own parents kissed in front of him. Just the thought of his mom kissing Captain Vincent twisted his stomach.
BANG!
Matt fell back, clutching at his ears. The girl had her rifle between the barrels. He’d almost forgotten she was there. Matt scrambled back to his feet and crouched again to be able to see his mother and Vincent.
“Annie!” shouted Belamie, looking all around. “I said no shooting while we’re fencing!”
The girl, who was apparently named Annie, stood up so just her eyes and the tip of her rifle peeked over the barrels. “You wasn’t fencing though,” she said. “You was kissin’.”
“No shooting during kissing either,” said Vincent. “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind shooting me, but what if you miss your mark and hurt the dear captain?”
“I never miss my mark,” said Annie.
“Never say never,” said Vincent. “It�
�s bad luck.”
“You’re bad luck.”
“Enough,” said Belamie, putting up her sword and swinging it down. “Breakfast should be ready, and I want to meet with the entire crew. We’ve got a mission here.”
“Where are we anyway?” Annie asked.
“Chicago,” said Belamie. “Not too far from the time and place you were born, Annie.”
Chicago . . . that’s where Matt had gone. Now he remembered. His parents had mentioned Chicago weeks ago. Captain Vincent was supposed to have come here around this time, but then his mother said she’d come here, too, just before she left to be with his dad. By some stroke of fate, Matt had crossed paths with the Vermillion and its crew long before he’d boarded it for the first time.
Annie sneered. “I don’t want to go anywhere near where or when I was born.”
“I wouldn’t either, if I were you,” said Vincent. “What a horrible day.”
Lightning fast, Annie aimed her rifle and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the hilt of Vincent’s sword and knocked it right out of his hand. Vincent jumped back, shaking his hand, and let out a slew of curse words that made Matt’s ears burn.
“Annie!” Belamie shouted as she inspected Vincent’s hand. “You could have shot his hand off!”
“If I’d wanted to shoot his hand off, then I’d have shot his hand off,” said Annie, glaring at Vincent.
“I swear, Belamie,” said Vincent, pointing at Annie, “if it were up to me, I’d take that little brat to the top of Mount Vesuvius and drop her in right before it explodes.”
“It would be a waste, Vince,” said Belamie. “You’ll never find a sharpshooter with better aim. She could have taken your hand off.” She shook her head at Annie, but with a smile behind her eyes. Matt saw just a hint of the mother he knew now. She was like a slightly older version of Ruby. “Come on, you two, let’s stop quarreling and go eat breakfast. Agnes made some hotcakes and blackberry syrup just for you, Annie.”
“Ooh, I love blackberry syrup!” said Annie, her anger forgotten. She flung her rifle over her shoulder and started to walk away, then stopped, glancing back to where Matt was hiding behind the barrels. “I’ll be there in a minute,” she said. “I have to clean my gun.”
Time Castaways #2 Page 7
