Making Waves (10 page)

And the other pirates cheered and pounded their fists on the table until the wooden planks vibrated like a drum.

I don’t know why, but while you were with Mariah Darcy, you forgot to ask really obvious questions. Like, are you
sure
that’s why people hate you? Are you sure it isn’t because you hack off their limbs with cutlasses? Plus the robbing and pillaging might put a few people off!

It sounds ridiculous, I know, but that night not a word of criticism entered my head. I actually admired Mariah to the point of total and utter envy. She had it all. Beauty, brains, her own ship. Plus a loyal band of followers to do her bidding. (No, really! Some of them were quite cute in an unwashed Hell’s Angels kind of way!)

At a time when a girl’s career options mainly consisted of being locked away in a convent, or dying hideously in childbirth, this girl had the entire Caribbean ocean for her playground.

What I envied most of all was Mariah Darcy’s confidence. You just knew she didn’t stay awake at nights, beating herself up over some stupid little mistake. Mariah answered to no one but herself.

And as the night went on, the pirate girl started to reveal a softer side. OK, so she was a bit woozy from the rum, but she seemed genuinely inspired by Brice’s desire to help his father’s slaves. She fished her half of the map out of her blouse, and she and Brice placed their two halves side by side so you could see how exactly they fitted.

“Let me tell you something,” she slurred. “I could retire from piracy tomorrow, if it was gold I craved.”

My buddy’s eyes glinted. “Isn’t it?”

She shook her head. “I have pots of gold,” she boasted. “Crates and barrels full of gold. Gold means nothing to me. What I crave, Mr Bexford, is adventure!”

“Oh, really,” he said politely. “I thought it was freedom.”

She wagged her finger. “Now, now, sir! Let’s not quibble over words! My point is, like you, I detest all forms of slavery. That’s why I’m declining your offer! I’ve decided NOT to buy your half of the map.”

Brice looked confused. “I see. Naturally it’s yours to do—”

“I haven’t finished, Mr Bexford! I propose, sir, that you and I mount a joint expedition to find this city. Any gold we find will be used to resettle your unhappy slaves.” Mariah leaned forward. “What do you say?”

Omigosh, this is
so
thrilling, say yes! I thought excitedly. I know! I was totally caught up in the moment. One night with pirates and my angelic scruples go right out the window!

Brice would have made a great poker player. I could NOT have told you what that boy was thinking. We were all holding our breath, except for Lola, who seemed to be struggling to stay awake.

“What is your answer, Mr Bexford?” Mariah’s voice had a bit of an edge this time.

Brice pushed back his chair so dramatically that I truly thought he was going to storm out. “I say we drink another toast,” he said coolly. “I accept your generous proposal, Miss Darcy.”

Mariah let out a piercing yodel of triumph. The pirates whistled and stomped their feet to show their approval. One of the pirates produced a fiddle and started to play a sea shanty. Another pirate picked up some silver spoons and beat out a lively rhythm.

Brice bowed to Mariah. She took his hand, laughing her tipsy laugh, and they swung each other recklessly around the room as the other pirates clapped and whistled.

I was in complete pirate mode by this time as you know, and rather fancied boogieing with a pirate myself. Unfortunately Lola was almost falling asleep in her chair.

“Come on, angel girl,” I sighed. “Time for some beauty sleep.”

Brice had rented us two rooms for the night. My friend was so out of it that she let me support her as far as the door, then she shrugged me off.

The music had switched into something fiery and Spanish. I glanced back wistfully and saw Brice andMariah doing a dance that involved a lot of stamping and sexy peacock-type strutting. Two outlaws closing their deal in true outlaw style. Who’d have imagined our maverick buddy would end up going into partnership with Cat Darcy’s pirate granddaughter! In my wildest fantasies I couldn’t come up with something like that.

I felt a flicker of excitement. This is WAY too karmic to be a coincidence, I thought. OK, the Agency couldn’t have known for sure, but they must have allowed for this mind-blowing possibility in their cosmic calculations.

And suddenly I was flooded with relief.

Omigosh, this was
meant
to happen! I wasn’t a failure after all! We were always supposed to come to Port Royal and hook up with Mariah.

It totally didn’t matter that I still hadn’t managed to figure out a way to get my friends home. My friends weren’t supposed to go home, because -omigosh, omigosh! - despite everything, we were still totally on track for Brice’s HALO award!!!

I wanted to yodel like a sexy pirate girl. Instead I stood at the top of the stairs, fanning myself, and trying to absorb this amazingly good news.

Finally I’d calmed down enough to go into our room.

When I walked in, Lola muttered something I didn’t catch and went on carefully pouring water into a cracked china bowl.

I have to say Diego’s Whiskers wasn’t exactly four-star accommodation. The bed curtains were visibly mouldy (
euw
!), and there were tiny lizards apparently glued to the walls, looking like bizarre ornaments.

My friend leaned over the bowl to wash her face. Suddenly I saw something glint in the candlelight. My heart practically flew into my mouth. It was Lola’s angel tags!

This was my chance.

Say something, Mel, I told myself. Say something NOW.

I cleared my throat. “Lola, this is going to sound like I’m making it up, but please hear me out, OK?”

I tried to explain what had happened in terms a seventeenth-century slave-girl could relate to, deliberately avoiding words like “Heaven” and “angel”. If I hit her with the heavenly terminology right off, she’d be likely to think I was a nutter. So I just reminded my friend that the three of us came from a place where nobody went hungry and everything was free. In this wonderful country, slavery didn’t exist.

“But something happened to you and Brice, um, Beau, on the way here,” I explained. “Something that made you forget who and what you really are.”

Lola yawned like a sleepy little cat. “Mi nah forget nuttin. You da one who confuse. You all di time talkin’ wild-wild.”

“I can prove it,” I said eagerly. “When we leave our home to go travelling, we wear these.” I showed Lola my tags. “See? They’re exactly like yours.”

She pulled a face. “Tcha! You can buy dem kinda ting in any slave market in Jamaica.”

I was so disappointed. Whatever Lola was seeing, she wasn’t seeing the same object. I could see she was completely exhausted so I let it go for the time being.

There was only one double bed in our room. Lola was all set to sleep on the floor, but I managed to persuade her we could share.

Before she went to sleep, my friend wrapped her sheet around her face and upper body. I guess she wanted to protect her face from prying eyes (mine) while she was sleeping. But it left her feet bare and vulnerable. I noticed a woven friendship bracelet around one ankle and felt my eyes fill with tears. I had made that bracelet for Lola one lazy afternoon in Heaven, a few weeks after we met.

I lay awake for a long time, listening to my soul-mate breathing softly inside her private cocoon. I could hear fiddle music and roars of laughter coming from downstairs. Plus some kind of drunken ruckus seemed to be going on in the alley outside.

After a few minutes I got up and wedged a chair under the door handle. Then I went back to bed and slept like a baby.

I must have gone back to Heaven in my dreams, because when I woke next morning, everything seemed clear: a little too clear, actually. I had to giggle into my pillow so as not to wake my sleeping friend. I couldn’t believe I’d wanted to run off with the pirates! Some angel you are! I scolded myself.

After my sleep, I felt totally connected to the higher angelic realms. For once in my life, I knew exactly what I was going to do. I pictured myself walking down the corridor and knocking on Brice’s door. I pictured him appearing in the doorway with a wondering expression.

The true Brice was getting closer to the surface. I’d seen it in his eyes yesterday. If I went while I was zinging with angelic energy, I wouldn’t have to worry about finding words. He’d look into my face and it would be like a light switching on. This bizarre illusion would vanish like a mirage and Brice would remember who and what he really was.

I knelt on our bed and peeped through the slatted window at the alley below. A drunken pirate sprawled face-down in the dirt. I couldn’t see his face but I didn’t think he was one of Mariah’s. Chickens were carefully pecking around him. They probably saw this kind of thing all the time.

Do it Mel, I told myself.

I tiptoed out of our room in my petticoat and bare feet.

The door to Brice’s room was wide open. A slave-girl was sweeping the floor, raising clouds of dust. Sunshine streamed through the window slats making the tiny dust specks dance in the light.

“Where’s Mr Bexford?” I asked in dismay.

She shrugged. “Massa gone long time.”

And suddenly I knew. Brice had left while we were still sleeping. He’d run off with Mariah Darcy to find Coyaba, City of the Gods.

Chapter Seven

L
ola sat on the edge of the bed clutching her raggedy bag full of smelly poisonous plants. She was shivering. She just went on sitting there shivering and staring emptily into space. After a while the bag slipped to the floor but she didn’t seem to notice.

Two tiny lizards, no bigger than children’s hairgrips, unglued themselves from the walls and skittered over to look at her. Then they turned their bulging little eyes on me, almost like they were waiting for me to do something. But I just stood in the middle of the room, feeling completely useless.

What can you say to a runaway slave-girl when the one white person she trusted abandons her without a word?

I was sick with disappointment myself. I had put myself through the wringer to help Brice. Well, that jerk had just thrown away his last chance. And let’s face it, he had had the MOST last chances.

No more sympathy for you, mister, I thought grimly. You have blown it,
totally
.

Though getting mad with Brice was quite therapeutic, it didn’t actually solve anything unfortunately. In addition to her cosmic amnesia, my soul-mate was now utterly traumatised. To cap it all, we were stranded in Port Royal with absolutely no cash.

You’re out of your depth with this one, Melanie, I thought miserably. Michael offers to send in a SWAT team, but oh no. You
have
to know best.

The teeny lizards had skittered up one of the mildewed bed curtains. They clung there side by side, watching me and Lola with their beady bright eyes.

I was so upset, I think I went a bit mad. I started talking to the lizards in my head.

“Got any ideas?” I asked them miserably. “I’m not proud, you know. All suggestions gratefully received, believe me.”

An ugly little bug flew past. Lizard Number One shot out its tongue and -
bosh
! - the bug was gone. Lizard Number Two went pattering down the curtain and across the floor. I thought it was hunting for an ugly bug of its own, but it kept pattering along until it reached my clothes. I’d dropped them in a heap the night before.

The lizard zoomed up the heap until it reached the top where it suddenly froze. You could almost hear it saying, “
Ta-da
!”

When I saw what the lizard was standing on, I almost screamed. Can you believe I’d forgotten that little seventeenth century coin purse?! A purse FULL of jewellery, if you remember!

Everything’s going to be OK! I thought deliriously.

Don’t get me wrong. Jewels wouldn’t mend Lola’s broken heart. It wasn’t the jewels that were making me so excited.

It was the reminder that I wasn’t completely alone. I’d forgotten that really crucial heavenly messages always,
always
get through - via a lizard if necessary!

Of course, now that I’d remembered I was an angel, I was able to see my situation in a different way.

I felt a rush of shame as I realised I’d been doing exactly what angels are not supposed to do. I had judged Brice without knowing the facts.

The fact is, you DON’T know what happened last night, I reminded myself. OK, it looks like Brice has gone back to his bad old ways. It also looks like Lola and I aren’t friends. And that’s SO not true.

At that moment my friend looked up. “What mi do?” she asked in a trembling voice. “Mi cyan go back to Fruitful Vale. Mi cyan stay in dis wicked place. What mi do?”

I couldn’t believe it. My friend was talking to me! She had actually asked for my help.

I didn’t care that she didn’t know who I was. I was much too grateful. Don’t blow this Melanie, I told myself shakily.

It was the breakthrough I’d been hoping and longing for.