Oceanswept (12 page)

“
T
essa!”

I had barely drifted back to sleep when Nicholas’s urgent whisper sounded at the door. He opened it and let himself in.

He grabbed the blue dress off the floor and held it out to me. “Put this on.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“Shh!” he hissed. Nicholas turned his back to me in an attempt at privacy. “Dress quickly.”

I nervously climbed out of bed and pulled my dress on.

“Change of plans. We’re leaving now. They are planning to hang you in the morning. Maybe me too.”

“What! Why?”

“I was trying to buy you time, as we discussed, but they would not hear of it. My defending you and all the time I have spent with you has not gone unnoticed. They think you have put some kind of witchcraft devil spell on me. That I am a danger to the crew because I rose up against Black. It was Black who forced that idea. It’s vengeance for him. He wants me dead.”

I finished the last of the buttons on my dress and touched Nicholas on the shoulder to alert him that I was ready.

“What now?” I whispered.

“Follow closely and keep quiet.”

Outside the quiet sky was a deep grey. The sun had not risen yet, but would shortly.

We tiptoed hurriedly to the starboard railing and peered over the edge at the churning water below. A jollyboat was floating alongside the ship.

“It’s time for us to get off this vessel.” He pointed in the distance. I followed his finger but saw nothing but a blurry horizon. “We are not far from some cays, some islands too, hopefully. We got a good current here and there’s a good shot at making it.”

We were running away.

Despite all that could go wrong with being adrift at sea in a small jollyboat, the idea of escaping the pirates permanently and having Nicholas all to myself was thrilling.

Nicholas opened a gate in the gunwale and tossed a rope ladder overboard. It was fixed to the ship and dangled precariously along the hull down to the jollyboat. “Watch your step. I will be right behind you.”

I nervously lowered myself down the flimsy jack ladder. The crashing waves seemed leagues away.

“Quickly, now,” Nicholas prodded.

Descending the ladder was as slow as it was awkward. My feet fumbled to find each hold, and it was next to impossible to see what I was doing in the ashy light of early morning.

Nicholas anxiously watched my slow progress, throwing quick glances over his shoulder.

After one such glance, he vanished from my view momentarily only to rush back and look over the caprail at me dangling on the jack ladder.

“Go! Tessa, go!” he barked. Judging by the volume of his voice, it was apparent our intentions were no longer secret.

I dropped as fast as I could, relying more on the strength of my arms than the surety of my footing. Nicholas disappeared from the railing again. I continued downward.

“Deserter!” an angry voice called from the ship.

I froze. We were caught. I craned my neck, hoping to see something of what was happening on the deck above, but I could only see the railing and the towering masts against the glowing grey sky.

“Tessa, leave! Now!” Nicholas’s voice was panicked.

I forced myself down. I was better than halfway to the small boat below. I needed to hurry off the jack ladder so Nicholas could follow. It wouldn’t take him half as long to shimmy down the rope.

Three faces peered over the deck at me. None of them belonged to Nicholas.

“It’s the witch! She’s escaping!”

They reeled in the ladder, intending to haul me back aboard the
Banshee
. I tried to keep up the pace of my descent, but they were stronger than I, and the distance to the jollyboat increased.

The jack ladder lurched; I slammed against the ship’s hull and the rope slipped out of my sweaty hands. I plummeted, grasping at the rope as I rushed down. My fingers curled around the last bit of the ladder, the hot pain of friction tearing into my palm. I could not keep my hold and I plummeted through the air again. My attempt was enough, however, to slow my fall so that I dropped squarely into the jollyboat without hurting myself.

“Nicholas!” I yelled.

The ladder was gone. The pirates had finished reeling it up. Nicholas would have to jump.

His face appeared over the railing. Brandishing his cutlass, he severed the rope that anchored the jollyboat to the
Banshee
.

“Jump!” I screamed.

“Go! Get outta here!” he bellowed.

A group of men rushed at Nicholas and pulled him from my view.

“No! Nicholas! Nicholas?”

The boat rocked peacefully next to the
Banshee
just as before. Slowly, so slowly that I did not notice it at first, the distance between the jollyboat and the ship grew. I was adrift now. Each wave pushed me farther from the
Banshee
. Away from Nicholas. I waited for him to jump. The distance between the boat and the
Banshee
grew. The sounds of the scuffling onboard the ship faded and I could only hear the sloshing of the waves and my own frenzied breathing.

In desperation I called out for Nicholas again and again.

He could still make it. He was strong. He could swim the distance. He could still make it.

My eyes ached from staring so hard at the ship, a shrinking toy on the horizon. Its peaceful bobbing and graceful sails betraying whatever violence was occurring on deck.

“Nicholas!”

I clutched the sides of the boat in a death grip. Desperation crushed me and I nearly jumped from the boat to swim back for him.

It was too late. I had drifted too far. He was not coming.

E
ndless blue stretched in all directions. The pale blue of the sky melted into the bottomless blue of the ocean as far as I could see. The glaring white sun was the only thing interrupting the blue monotony. The brownish-grey speck that was the
Banshee
faded hours ago.

I sat stiffly, clutching the edges of the jollyboat in disbelief, dried tear stains crusting on my cheeks. This had been the great escape plan? Now what?

The sun was climbing the eastern sky, casting its blinding light on the dancing waters. The air was already heavy at this hour. It was going to be a hot day.

Nicholas said there was land nearby. He knew better than to plant us both in the middle of the sea without the prospect of nearby civilization. To do otherwise be certain death—and an unpleasant one at that. Two oars
lay in the bottom of the jollyboat, but without knowing what direction to paddle, I dismissed them as useless.

A grey canvas bag
was next to the oars. It contained three sizeable flasks filled with fetid water; a stash of hardtack and dried, salted beef; a dirk; and a wide, tar-covered hat. I was glad for Nicholas’s foresight in packing these things before he fetched me; glad that the canvas bag had made it into the boat even though he did not.

The presence of the bag kept me calm. It was not much,
but it would keep me alive for a day or two. Hopefully by then…by then, what? Perhaps the ship would return for me so they could execute me properly instead of letting the blaring sun finish me?

I clutched the bag to my breast. It represented more than my survival. It was a tangible symbol of Nicholas. He was supposed to be with me. This escape was meant for the two of us. Maybe it was childish, but I drew comfort in the bag, a symbol of his intentions.

The sun climbed higher and higher in the sky. I was desperately hot and reluctant to drink the water. I worried that I’d guzzle it all in a minute. I allowed myself a sip. After tasting the water, that fear immediately vanished. I would have to be dying of thirst before I would swallow that stuff again.

I removed the hat from the bag and dipped it in the ocean. Water beaded up and rolled off the top, which had been smeared with tar for such purpose, but the underside absorbed the moisture. I placed it on my head and felt much cooler. At least I would not die with a sunburned face.

The day passed slowly. I wanted to lie down across the benches and rest, but I was afraid that if I were not constantly shifting my weight, the boat would capsize.

A shrill cry broke the silence.

Startled, I looked around for the source of the piercing noise. High in the sky a wisp of cloud slowly moved with the breeze. As my eyes focused on the small white spot, I realized it was not a cloud at all, but a gull loping in the atmosphere. My heart soared. If a bird was nearby, land was too.

I squinted into the sun and contorted my neck to watch the gull, afraid of blinking and losing sight of it for even a second.

The bird careened through the sky, and the boat seemed to follow it. Nicholas said there were good currents here. Maybe the ocean was taking me where I needed to be.

The sun drifted lazily into the horizon, taking its light with it. Fear swelled in me when the bird faded in the day’s dying light. I scrambled to see the full breadth of the sky. I’d lost the gull.

Dejected, I plunked myself down upon the floor of the boat and leaned against a wooden bench and slept a shallow sleep.

With the peach glow of the sunrise, I looked for signs of life or land. I was disappointed—but not surprised—when I saw neither.

Rifling through the canvas sack for food, my first impulse was to eat the hardtack and save the more nourishing beef for later. But when I remembered that I could very easily die in this jollyboat today, whether from hungry sharks or severe heatstroke, I decided to eat what I wanted. I nibbled on a small piece of tough beef and watched the sunrise turn the entire sky in to a gleaming, golden treasure. The ocean reflected every nuance of the sky, the sparkle of the waves adding magic to the sight. It was the most magnificent sunrise I had ever seen. I should have been watching it with Nicholas.

Despite my dire circumstances, I felt a sort of self-possession I had never known before. I no longer lived in fear of what another person might do to me. I feared pain. I feared the absence of my agency—something that had been all but stripped from me aboard the
Banshee
. Adrift in this small boat, I was threatened by the heat of the sun and the depth of the ocean, but it was a threat I was somehow better equipped to face.

I thought of my father and what his last moments of life had been like. Had he survived the hurricane only to die while drifting on a calm sea? Perhaps he had been crushed by the ship’s implosion, or just simply drowned. Had he, like Nicholas, placed me adrift in a jollyboat in a final attempt to save my life?

I shuddered to think of what might be happening to Nicholas. My imagination spun with the brutal pirate punishments I’d heard of. Lashings. Dunking in the ocean. Marooning on an island. Keelhauling.

The image of Nicholas dangling in a noose flashed before my eyes.

He said they wanted to hang him. He could already be dead. Maybe they had not even bothered to execute him formally; maybe they impaled him with their swords when they pulled him away from the railing.

No. I refused to believe it.

Nicholas was an officer. Until two weeks ago, he had been respected by his crew—as respected as a pirate can be. His skills were valuable. They would not want to lose him. But they would punish him. No doubt about that.

The day passed much like the day before. I shifted my weight constantly to counteract the lunging of the boat. It was exhausting. I forced myself to take occasional swallows of the stale water to stave off dehydration. I searched the sky for more gulls but found none. In the late afternoon I spotted a grey mass on the horizon and laughed joyously, thinking that I saw land. My heart plummeted when the shadow shifted and rolled across the sky—a distant storm.

The ocean grew agitated during the night, and the wind sprayed across the pitching waves. Black clouds sheathed the sky, muffling any light from the heavens. Claustrophobia enveloped me. It was strange to feel confined when I knew I was surrounded endlessly by sky and sea, but in the darkness of this heavy night, I could not see past the edge of my small boat. Unfounded fears of shadowy sea monsters haunted me. I was too terrified to sleep. The night felt everlasting.

Even the rising sun battled with the darkness of the thick clouds. Finally, though, there was enough light to see the unchanging scenery around me. Instead of endless blue, I was encompassed by eternal grey.

I looked behind me and cried in surprise when I saw a fat gull sitting on the boat’s edge. The startled bird took flight. I watched in eager delight as the bird sailed through the sky towards a faint shadow on the horizon. I sprung to my feet for a better look, dancing wildly to keep my balance.

There was a definite shadow on the horizon. Its shape was indistinct, but it was an unchanging, solid mass. Land!

I grabbed an oar and paddled towards the shadow. With no landmarks to gauge my progress, I couldn’t be sure I was propelling the boat along or just wasting my energy. No matter. I was too anxious to simply sit still and wait on the tide.

The grey mass grew, becoming darker and more distinct in shape. Though it seemed small, lush vegetation and palm trees flourished on the isle. Shelter. Land. Fresh food.
Fresh
water
. I almost cried.

The sun was setting. I had to get to that island before it was too dark to see. If I didn’t, the ocean’s current might pull me away and it would be impossible to recover from that. I would take no chances. I fought my burning muscles and paddled harder. When I finally felt the oar brush against sand, I grabbed the rope still attached to the jollyboat and plunged into the ocean.

Water rushed over my head and I bobbed to the surface, laughing with glee. I swam forward and the boat floated easily beside me. My feet finally found the shifting sands of the ocean floor. I walked backwards, leaning against the pull of the boat with all my might. It offered greater resistance with each step I took. Every inch of me ached. I was tempted to let the boat drift away, but I knew it could provide essential shelter during the night. It could be the difference between life and death.

With shaking legs and burning arms, I heaved the boat onto the beach.

I had made it!

I collapsed and dug my fingers into the golden sand.

“You were right, Nicholas,” I whispered. “We found land. You were right.”