The arrival of the mail was always one of the most exciting times of the day for Verne Brown. It wasn't as if he ever got much mail--being nine years old was hard in that way--but sometimes his parents got interesting catalogs or what they thought was "junk mail" that they let him have. And sometimes, sometimes, more interesting things came. Like what he found on that Friday afternoon in mid-February.
Verne knew the mail had come when he heard Einstein barking, as the dog usually did when the mail carrier stopped by. He hurried from the kitchen and reached the foyer just in time to see the mail slide through the slot in the door and hit the polished floor. Einstein stood at the small frosted window next to the door, his paws on the glass, barking.
"Be quiet, Einie," Verne said automatically, kneeling down to scoop up the mail. He quickly scanned the booty of the day.
Bills--boring. Science catalog--even more boring! "You may have won ten million dollars"--yeah, right.
Verne sighed, disappointed. Then he noticed there was something stuck in the science catalog. Verne grabbed the brightly colored cover and pulled it out of the dull catalog. "Wow," he said, instantly impressed with what he saw.
It was a magazine, a new one called "History Monthly." Verne didn't really notice the title, though--his eyes were drawn immediately to the picture of a pirate ship on the cover. Under the masthead were the words, "In This Issue--Lost Treasures of the Caribbean!"
"Cool," Verne proclaimed, standing up and leafing through the magazine as he walked back to the kitchen to finish his after school snack. His mother, Clara Brown, looked up from the counter where she was already preparing dinner.
"Was that the mail?" she asked.
"Uh huh," Verne said, handing his mother the mail--everything except the magazine. Clara set it all on the counter with only a casual glance.
"What is that you have?" she asked, returning most of her attention to the turkey she was basting for dinner.
"Something that came in the mail," Verne said. "It's about pirates!"
Clara nodded. "It's nice to see you're taking more of an interest in history," she replied, preoccupied.
Verne didn't really hear her, his eyes on the article in the magazine as he sat down at the table. On the right-hand page was the story, but his eyes were mostly drawn to the page on the left, where there was what appeared to be an honest-to-God pirate treasure map! Verne quickly skimmed the story, skipping over most of the technical stuff about ships and the way of life at the time. His eyes were snagged by the word "treasure" in one paragraph.
Verne grinned as he finished the brief paragraph. "Awesome," he whispered, his eyes turning back to the map. Most of the writing was in Spanish, which was a complete mystery to him. But from the sketch, Verne could tell the treasure was supposed to be on an island. He assumed the small circle with the dot in the center was where the treasure lay. I guess X doesn't mark the spot in this case, he thought.
As Verne studied the map, an idea hit him. An idea just irresistible to pass up for a boy of his age, bored with school and sick of the damp, cool weather of February. Calmly, not betraying the excitement that suddenly surged through his body, Verne closed the magazine, slipped out of the chair, and exited the kitchen. When the door had swung behind him, Verne started to run, up the stairs and to his room.
His eleven-year-old brother, Jules Brown, sat at his desk, his attention buried in a book. Verne raced in the room and slammed the door shut. The sudden sound caused Jules to drop his book with a start.
"Verne," he sighed as he bent over to pick it up, "why can't you enter with less disturbance?"
"Check this out," Verne said, ignoring the complaint and thrusting the magazine in his brother's face.
Jules looked at him, irritated, then took the magazine from his hand. "What am I supposed to be looking at?" he asked after a moment.
"That!" Verne said, pointing at the treasure map. "It's buried treasure, Jules! Pirate's treasure!"
Jules shrugged. "So?"
"So?" Verne repeated. He lowered his voice, in the unlikely case that their mother would be hovering outside the door, listening. "It was never found!"
Jules shrugged again, handing the magazine back to Verne. "I'm afraid I still don't see why this has you so excited."
Verne took a deep breath, resisting the urge to smack his brother a few times in the head with the magazine in an attempt to knock some sense into him. He couldn't believe they came from the same parents sometimes!
"We could get the treasure!" he said softly. "We have the map. I know when it was buried. We could go back an' follow the pirates an' wait until they bury it--then we can take it and be rich!"
Jules chuckled once, turning back to the book he'd been reading. "Highly unlikely."
"How come?" Verne asked. "It could happen--we could make it happen!"
"Verne, don't you know anything about pirates? They were a very rough and paranoid breed. I have serious doubts we could follow them unnoticed--even if we managed to find them and discover the precise date when the treasure was buried."
"It said that the treasure was buried in mid-August of 1677," Verne said. "That's a pretty good place to aim for! An' we know it was in the Caribbean. So we go to one of those seaports--I betcha it has some listed in that article."
Jules looked up from the book again, his face serious. "Verne, I still think this would be a foolish journey. You know Father hasn't trusted us near the time machines since that dinosaur trip in September. He's even hidden the keys."
Verne grinned. "I know where they are," he bragged. "And remember, Dad's at that science convention in Sacramento until tomorrow night. Then he and Mom talked about goin' somewhere for Valentines Day. We could go tonight, no problem."
Jules tapped a finger against his desk top, frowning. "This could change a lot of history, Verne."
"How?" Verne asked. "The treasure was never found up 'til now! So it doesn't matter if we have it!"
"How would you explain it to Mother and Father?" Jules wanted to know. "I think they may suspect something if we suddenly had pirate treasure in our possession."
Verne shrugged. "I'll think of something." He grinned. "Wow, we'll be so rich!"
Jules still looked uncertain. "I don't know about this. It seems highly risky to me."
"What's life without some risk?" Verne chirped. He started to wander around the bedroom, thinking of the things he'd need to do the time traveling. "We'll go back, tail the pirates, get the treasure, and come back before Mom even notices we're gone!"
Jules remained skeptical. "It'll be dangerous."
"So what?" Verne asked. He gestured to the window. "Look outside, Jules--rain. It's been raining for months now! Even if we don't get the treasure, we'll get to time travel and spend some time in the sun and get a break from school! C'mon, even you like breaks from school."
Jules rubbed his chin. "Well, my class was going to start a study on pirates in a couple weeks. I suppose this could be an opportunity to gather some firsthand research that would assist me in a paper or assignment."
Verne shrugged. "So there you go. C'mon, I know you've been dying to time travel just as much as I have since that last trip!"
Jules nodded. "Yes, that's correct," he admitted. "Time traveling is in our genes."
Verne grinned again. "So let's go," he said in a whisper. "Tonight, once Mom's asleep."
Jules looked at his brother for a long moment, then let out a sigh. "All right," he agreed with a half-smile. "Why not?"
....By far, the most intriguing story is the missing treasure of little-known Spanish pirate Juan de la Vega. With his ship, El Mar Tiburón, Vega and his crew stole a load of gold and jewels from several ships in the Caribbean, worth an estimated $1.5 million in the 17th century. Records from the ship's log report that Vega and his crew buried the treasure in an unmarked location in the Caribbean in mid-August of 1677. The map on page 42 was found in the records and is the only clue on the treasure's whereabouts. Even Vega's crew, which turned against him a couple years later, were unable to retrace their steps to the treasure. Over the years, everyone from amateurs to scholars have tried to locate this treasure, with no success. Many believe the treasure was reclaimed long ago, shortly after its burial, by members of Vega's crew or other unknown persons.
Marty McFly watched his girlfriend, Jennifer Parker, as she sat on her family's couch, a dark scowl on her face. "This is impossible!" she complained, slamming shut the textbook on her lap and tossing it on the floor. "I'll never get a handle on this stuff!"
Marty leaned over and picked the book up. "It's not impossible, Jen," he said. "It's just Spanish."
"Easy for you to say," Jennifer shot back. "You're not taking it!" She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I'm sorry."
"No problem," Marty said honestly. "Midterms are a bitch, aren't they?"
"This one, especially," Jennifer agreed. "I'm going to have to pull off an A on the oral exam if I want to pass that class. Which means I have to carry on a conversation in Spanish with the professor for five minutes! That's an eternity!" She sighed again and shook her head. "It's hopeless!"
Marty put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "It's not hopeless. You just need to study, right? And you have the weekend--the exam isn't 'til Monday, right?"
"I'm trying to study, for all the good it's doing me," Jennifer said darkly. "I just can't remember all these different tenses and stem changes. I wish someone could invent some kind of language translator that would just automatically turn what you speak and hear into something you could understand!"
Marty froze for a minute, then slowly smiled. "Someone has," he said. "Doc Brown."
Jennifer looked at him skeptically. "Doc Brown invented a language translator?"
"Hey, the guy invented at time machine," Marty said with a shrug. "Anyway, he kind of had to--can you imagine the disasters that might've happened if he didn't have something like that? Time travel isn't just reserved for English-speaking countries," he added.
"Does anyone know about the translators?" Jennifer asked. "You'd think he'd try to sell those and market them. It's not dangerous like the time travel...is it?"
Marty shrugged again. "I'm sure Doc has his reasons. But, anyway, he's outta town right now. We could go over and borrow one of the translators...."
"Marty, that would be cheating!" Jennifer said, aghast. "I couldn't cheat!"
"It would guarantee you an A--and the translators are almost impossible to spot. They fit in your ear just like a hearing aid. Hell, I even forget I'm wearing one half the time when I'm using it!"
Jennifer stared down at the textbook for a long moment, biting her lower lip. Finally, she looked up. "Are you sure Doc Brown won't mind?"
"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," Marty said with a smile. "We'll just wait until later tonight. I even know where the key is--we'll get in and out without any problem, trust me."
"Are you sure you know where the DeLorean keys are, Verne?"
"Of course I am! And keep your voice down--we don't want Mom to wake up and see us in here!"
"It's highly doubtful she would be able to hear us out here."
Verne, clutching a flashlight in one hand, frowned at Jules. "If we're caught in here right now, we'll both be in big trouble!"
"I am quite aware of that fact," Jules said dryly. "Anyway, you didn't exactly answer my original question--where are the DeLorean keys?"
Verne slammed one of the drawers shut that he'd been riffling around in. "I'll get to it soon--Dad keeps movin' it!"
"That's because he doesn't trust us," Jules said, leaning against one of the lab's worktables.
Verne didn't say anything in response to that, silently simmering over his brother's words and attitude. Maybe I should've just gone alone, he thought. Why drag him along for the ride?
Verne pulled open another drawer, searching through the miscellaneous contents. The lab was quiet. Then, without warning, Verne heard something outside. It sounded like someone was messing with the door!
"Jules!" Verne hissed, whipping his head up and around to look at his brother. Jules had heard the noise, too; he stood still, his eyes wide and his head cocked to one side.
"Let's conceal ourselves!" Jules whispered, grabbing Verne's arm and pulling him under one of the tables before Verne could even shut the drawer. "And turn off that flashlight!" Jules added. Verne obediently clicked it off, just as the door opened.
Two figures entered the lab, their features hidden in the shadows and darkness. Verne tensed up, his heart pounding. Burglars! he thought. Then one of the figures spoke softly.
"Where is it, Marty?"
"It's in a drawer around here. Don't worry, Jen."
Verne sagged in relief at the sound of the voices. It was only Marty McFly and Jennifer Parker. But that still didn't answer all his questions. Before Jules could stop him, Verne crawled from underneath the table, stood up, and turned the flashlight on, shining it in the faces of Marty and Jennifer. "What are you doing here?" he wanted to know.
Marty and Jennifer both winced at the light hitting their eyes. Marty lifted a hand and attempted to shield his eyes from it. "Verne? Is that you?"
"Yeah," Verne said, seeing no point in denying it. "What're you guys doing here?"
"What are you guys doing in here at this hour?" Marty asked, returning the question right back at them without answering it. "And get that damn light outta our eyes. You're blinding us!"
Verne lowered the beam to the floor. "Tell me why you're both here, first. This is our property, after all."
"All right," Marty said. "Jen and I need to borrow one of your dad's language translators. Now why are you both out in the lab with a flashlight so late?"
Verne was saved from answering the question by his brother, who had joined his side. "Verne and I were going to make a trip through time," Jules said honestly. "And seeing that the parental units would not approve, we were forced to do this at a late hour."
Marty smiled. "Where're you guys going?"
"To the pirate times and the Caribbean," Verne said, figuring their was no need to lie if Marty already knew they were going to use the time machine.
Marty glanced at his girlfriend for a second. "Cool. Can we come?"
"What?" Jennifer cried. "Marty!"
"There isn't any room," Verne said quickly. "We're taking the DeLorean."
"Oh, you can squeeze us both in," Marty said quickly. "Anyway, do you know where the key is?"
Jules and Verne looked at each other. "No," Jules said after a moment, breaking the silence. "Verne thought he did, but so far we have not been able to locate it."
Marty smiled again. "I know where the key is," he said. "Let us come along and I'll get it."
Verne looked at his brother again, not sure what to say. Jules stared back for a moment, then shrugged. "All right," he told Marty.
Jennifer stared at her boyfriend. "Marty, can I talk to you for a moment?" she asked quickly, her tone carrying a trace of chilliness in it.
Marty looked at the boys for a moment. "Just a minute," he said, pulling Jennifer to the far corner of the lab.
Jennifer looked at her boyfriend through narrowed eyes. "I don't want to go, Marty," she said in a low whisper. "Why on earth did you invite us along?"
Marty sighed softly. "Jennifer, I could use a vacation, okay? And it's the Caribbean--sandy beaches, sun, surf...."
"But it's in the past!" Jennifer hissed back. "And you know how I feel about time travel!"
Marty sighed again, to himself. Time to pull out all the stops on this one; it had come down to a guilt trip. "Jennifer," he said softly. "May I remind you that you owe me a big one for dragging me to the past with Doc in September? Well, now it's time for me to cash in that favor. I want to have a little vacation with you and get away from it all. This is perfect."
Jennifer's face blushed deep crimson at the reminder of the incident, though not from embarrassment. "Marty, I can't believe you're bringing that up now," she whispered, sounding angry. "You thanked me for doing that--remember?"
"But you agreed that you owed me a big favor," Marty reminded her, determined not to back down. "And now I'm cashing it in."
"Martin McFly--" Jennifer began, her hands on her hips.
"And hey, people in the Caribbean probably spoke Spanish," Marty added quickly, before she could really start to chew him out. "It'll be a great time to practice with that--and put off that test on Monday."
Jennifer closed her mouth, looking flustered. Marty could see that news had taken her back a few steps. Finally, she spoke again, her voice tight and clipped. "How long is this trip going to last?"
Marty grinned, taking that as approval for the trip. "Well, let's find out." He walked back over to Jules and Verne, waiting by the DeLorean. "How long you guys planning to stay in the past?"
The boys exchanged a look, then both shrugged in unison. "I don't know," Verne answered, just as Jules said, "We didn't give it any thought yet."
"How 'bout a week?" Marty suggested. "Will that give you two enough time to do...whatever?"
"I guess, yeah," Verne said. "Where are the DeLorean keys?"
Marty walked over to Doc's lab coat, hanging on a hook on the back of the door, and fished the car keys out of the coat pocket. "Here," he said, holding them up.
Verne smacked his forehead. "Oh, man, that was so obvious!" he moaned.
"Which is why you didn't think of it," Jules said, rolling his eyes.
"Hey, you didn't either!" Verne shot back.
"You guys, chill," Marty recommended, heading over to the DeLorean and unlocking the driver's side door. "It's not worth a fight."
The boys shut their mouths. Marty gestured to the open car door. "Okay, you guys, get in the back."
"The back?" Verne said, frowning. "How come we have to go in the back?"
Marty ticked the reasons off on his fingers. "You two are the youngest and therefore the smallest, and I'm driving--okay?"
Jules and Verne exchanged another look, with rolled eyes, then climbed in the car and into the small space behind the seats. Marty smiled at Jennifer over the top of the car. "You can get in now."
Jennifer frowned faintly at him, not saying a word as she opened the passenger-side door and slipped inside the time machine. Marty hesitated a moment, wondering if she was mad at him, then got in the time machine himself.
"What's the destination?" he asked as he shut his door.
"Um...how 'bout August 10, 1677," Verne said.
Marty punched in the date. "Time?"
"After dark would be best," Jules said. "I'd say midnight, which would give us time to locate some appropriate apparel."
"All right," Marty agreed. "Location?"
"How 'bout...uh..." Verne stopped, clearly puzzled.
"Port Royal, Jamaica," Jules supplied. "That was before the earthquake destroyed the city, and it was quite the scene for pirates."
"How long before an earthquake destroyed it?" Marty asked, remembering his bad experience caused by getting caught in the 1906 San Francisco quake.
"Years," Jules said decisively. "Not until the end of the 17th century."
"All right," Marty said, putting the rest of the destination in. "Ready?"
"Oh yeah!" Verne cheered.
"Yes," Jules said.
"No," Jennifer muttered, slouching down in her seat with a scowl on her face, arms folded across her chest. Marty glanced at her for a moment, a little concerned. She looked back at him, her gaze frosty.
Oh boy, he thought. You can still back outta this one, McFly.
But Marty was sick of the pressures of midterms, currently bearing down on him in college. And after a couple frantic trips through time in December, he was ready for one in a location that promised sun, sand, and relaxation. Then there was also the fact he was dying to spend time with Jennifer. Between his part-time job, his studies, and the band, he hadn't seen much of her the last few weeks since school started back up. So Marty did the only thing he could think of, under the circumstances--he ignored Jennifer's obvious reluctance for the trip.
"Okay," he said softly, reaching across Jennifer's lap to activate the garage opener in the DeLorean's glove compartment. While he waited for the doors to open all the way, he glanced at Jules and Verne in the back, recalling his original reasons for being in the lab so late.
"Do you guys have the language translators?"
"They're in the glove box," Verne said helpfully. "At the back."
Marty peered into the still-open glove compartment, struggling to see through the shadows. Even with all the thingamajigs lit up in the DeLorean's interior, it was rather dim. "Where?"
"In a white box," Jules said. "The one that appears as if it might contain jewelry."
Marty put his hand in there, fishing around until he felt what seemed to be the box the boys were talking about. He pulled it out and opened it up, finding a half dozen of the small language translators inside. Marty passed them around, ignoring another cool look from Jennifer as he handed one to her.
"Just slip it in your ear," he told her as he closed the box up and replaced it in the glove compartment. Jennifer did what he said without a word. Marty paused, his hand on the keys, ready to start the DeLorean up. Are we forgetting anything?
"Money," he said suddenly. "We need money!"
"Oh yeah!" Verne said. "Do we have any for that time?"
"Probably," Jules said. "I'll need to get out of the time vehicle to check...."
It took ten minutes to let Jules out of the car, have him locate about three hundred dollars in currency from 1670--"close enough," he had declared--find a small leather knapsack to carry it all and then get the DeLorean loaded up again. Jennifer's expression grew darker and darker with each minute, until Marty was half-expecting her to bolt from the car and tell him to find a new girlfriend. But she stay put, for reasons he wasn't sure of.
Finally, they were ready to go. Marty started the car and pulled out of the lab slowly, worrying about waking Clara up. But the house remained dark. He activated the flying circuits and took to the night sky, rushing up to eighty-eight to meet the past.
Upon entering the past time, Marty felt completely and totally disoriented. Darkness surrounded him, which was to be expected at night in a time before electric lights. But below, as hard as he looked, he saw more of the same--darkness.
"Where the hell are we?" Marty muttered aloud.
"Port Royal, Jamaica, probably," Verne said.
"Then why can't I see anything?"
"Easy," Jules said. "There are no lights to easily be seen from the air, and we are above an ocean, likely."
"Wonderful," Marty said. He leaned as close as he could get to the windshield, squinting and slowing way down. After a few minutes his eyes grew used to the dimness and he could make out a moon on the horizon, the light causing the water below to glitter. Marty steered towards the large, dark block he assumed was land, as it was not glittering.
"I would turn the headlights off," Jules said, as Marty drew closer to the land. "Should anyone be awake now, lights in the sky might alarm them."
"Good point." Marty clicked the lights off, slowing way down as he struggled to navigate through the night sky. Without headlights, he saw quickly that the moonlight was quite helpful in making things visible. They were drifting above a coastline scattered with different buildings. Marty saw several large ships tethered at a dock in the distance.
"Okay," he said aloud. "Where should we land?"
"Not down there," Verne said, gesturing to the populated coastline. "That might be too obvious."
"I would suggest that we touch down perhaps a half mile out of the town limits," Jules said. "You are planning to utilize the preprogramming feature in the DeLorean...right?"
"Sure," Marty said. "That would probably be best, huh?" He took a moment to glance at Jennifer next to him. His girlfriend was sitting rigidly in the seat, her mouth set in a tight line as she stared straight ahead through the windshield. "How are you doin', Jen?"
"I'm fine," Jennifer said in a cool voice. "Hurry up and land this thing."
"That's what I'm trying to do," Marty said evenly, determined not to get into an argument with her. "Do you see any place that would be good to land?"
"I do," Verne said, pointing. "Check out that cliff!"
"Stupid, Verne," Jules said witheringly. "How would we be expected to scale such a precipice?"
"I don't see you givin' any suggestions!" Verne shot back.
"I see a place," Marty said quickly, wanting to stop the arguing. It was starting to give him a headache. "Right on that beach."
He brought the car down smoothly, touching it down on a deserted sandbar. Marty shut off the engine, the roar of waves the only sound in the car. "Is there anything we need from here before we get out and sent it into the future?"
"No," Verne said. "Jules, you have the money, right?"
"Right here," Jules said, touching the knapsack. "I think we should get something else from the car, though."
"What?" Marty asked, opening the door.
"The first-aid kit. I don't know about you, but I certainly wouldn't want to subject myself to the medical methods here if I happened to cut myself accidentally. They were questionable, at best."
"Good point," Marty agreed, stepping out of the car and taking a deep breath of the warm, humid sea air. It was a nice improvement over the cold, damp air currently residing in Hill Valley.
Jennifer, Jules, and Verne climbed out of the car, Jules with the first-aid kit and knapsack in hand. Marty leaned in the time machine and quickly punched in the destination time for August 17, 1677. Then he flipped a small switch at the back of the time circuit control switch, activating the DeLorean on autopilot time travel. Something in the car started to emit a warning beep. Marty swiftly backed out, shutting the door. A few seconds later the car took off to the air, rushing up to the heavens and vanishing in a flash of light.
"Well," Marty said softly, watching the twin trails of fire dissolve into nothingness, "we're here for a week now--for better or worse."
"Oh goody," Jennifer said in a low voice dripping with sarcasm. Marty gritted his teeth at her attitude, then swiftly changed the subject.
"Which way is town? We should probably find some clothes to change into."
"This way," Verne said, pointing to the right. "Are any stores open now?"
"I would suspect not," Jules said as they started walking towards the town limits.
Marty frowned at the news. "That might be dangerous, being seen the way we're dressed right now."
"We can't help it," Jules said. "But I agree, it isn't the wisest course of action, especially with pirates residing in the area."
"Yeah!" Verne chimed in, his voice filled with a strange mixture of fear and excitement. "They'd probably make us walk the plank or something!"
Marty was silent for a moment, thinking. "I'll bet these places didn't have much security now. We could probably find a clothing store and 'borrow' some things to wear for a while."
"Marty!" Jennifer snapped. "That's called stealing!"
Marty shrugged. "Oh well--it's not like we'd get caught. And who's really gonna miss some clothes?"
"We don't have much of a choice," Jules said to Jennifer. "We could leave them behind at the business when we leave."
Jennifer threw up her hands, looking irritated. "I don't care, just don't get us killed over something like this!"
The town limits of Port Royal were reached about twenty minutes later. The streets were completely deserted, unlit, and quiet. By peeking in windows, they were able to locate a tailor's business. The door was secured with a rusted, old lock that withstood only a few hard blows before giving way and allowing the four time travelers entrance.
Jennifer Parker silently fumed as they searched through various articles of clothing displayed inside. She couldn't believe what Marty had roped her into! Of all the selfish things he'd done in the time she'd known him, this one ranked up close to the top! He didn't even seem to care that she didn't want to go on this trip.
Granted, Jennifer knew she could have stayed behind. But Marty had struck a nerve when he had brought up the idea of giving her more time to prepare for her oral Spanish exam. Even though she hated to time travel, the idea of getting a low grade on the test was even less appealing. Jennifer needed all the time she could get--even if that time was spent in the past.
"Find anything yet, Jen?" Marty asked softly several minutes later, his arms filled with bits and pieces cobbled from the different outfits on display.
Jennifer favored him with a cool look. "No," she said in a low voice. "I don't know why I have to dress up in these crazy outfits. If you think I'm going to wear a corset, you've got another thing coming!"
Marty shrugged, looking distinctly uncomfortable at her words in the dark room. Moonlight shafting through the windows was the only source of illumination in the room. "Sorry, but if that's what women wore now, you probably should. Do you realize what could happen if you're not dressed right?"
Jennifer's mouth tightened in a hard line. "I hate wearing long skirts--you know that."
Marty shrugged again, the gesture just making Jennifer even more angry at him. "I can't help that. Do you realize how dangerous it would be for you to wear pants? No girls did now!"
"That's true, Jennifer," Jules put in from a few feet away. "When in Rome, it is best to do as the Romans do--or at least dress like them."
"Easy for you to say," she muttered. "You're all guys. You don't have to wear weird, uncomfortable things." Jennifer eyed a striped dress on display nearby, frowning at the enormous skirt and the waist far too narrow for any normal woman to naturally have. "Just look at that!"
Marty glanced at it for a moment then looked back at her blankly. "It's a dress," he said, oblivious to what Jennifer saw in it. "Anyway, my clothes aren't a picnic. Check out this shirt." Marty held it up. "I can't believe how many ruffles are on it!"
"At least you can wear pants of some kind," Jennifer muttered. She heaved a deep sigh, then trudged over to the old-fashioned dress. Though I suppose it's the cutting edge of fashion now, she thought. Without a word, Jennifer tugged it off the display and carried it under one arm as she looked around the small shop for accessories like shoes, slips, and stockings.
"Actually, these 'pants' aren't all they're cracked up to be," Marty said, holding them up. "They only go down to the knees, then you gotta wear tights!"
"They're called breeches," Jules corrected. "What you refer to as the 'pants.' "
Marty glanced over at the boy, then shrugged. "Whatever--I still hate wearing them."
Jennifer still didn't buy his complaints. "At least it's not a large, awkward skirt," she said. Jennifer spotted the shoes that went with the dress, set up on a shelf, and examined them, wondering how any woman could possibly squeeze her feet into something that narrow. I'm not putting those on my feet, she decided firmly. She was also going to skip the corset altogether; distorting her rib cage was not high on her priority list.
After locating a dressing room at the back, Jennifer found getting in the dress was an ordeal and a half. She'd never before encountered such a complex piece of clothing--and, she quickly found out, it was a size to small for her. The fabric pinched at her uncorseted waist. Jennifer gritted her teeth and bore it as best she could. She left her 20th century running shoes on, knowing that at least her feet would be comfortable then--and the shoes would be all but invisible under the long skirt.
After she finished changing, Jennifer gathered up her sweater and jeans from the floor and met the others near the windows at the front of the store. They, too, had exchanged their clothes for something fitting for the period. Marty was wearing that white blouse with ruffles that he'd complained about earlier, as well as the breeches and "tights." Jules and Verne were dressed in more or less the same wear, their clothes a size or so too large for them. Jennifer had to blink at the sight--they all looked so different! I guess clothes do make the man, to a large extent.
"Damn this skirt already!" she muttered as she joined them. "It's too long! I keep tripping on it!"
Marty smiled at her, despite looking a wee bit uncomfortable in the girly shirt. "I think you look gorgeous."
Jennifer, however, was still more than a little miffed at him. "Don't even start with that!" she said, her tone sharp.
Marty blinked, the smile fading from his face. "Jeez, Jen, it was a compliment, okay? Chill!"
Jennifer looked at him through narrowed eyes, not saying a word. Marty stared back, straightening up to meet her gaze. Verne broke the tense silence in the room.
"Can we go now?" he asked, his voice carrying a slight pitch of whining. "This place is boring."
Jennifer pulled her eyes away from Marty to look at the younger boy. "I'm certainly ready," she agreed tightly. "Where should I store my other clothes?"
"We can place them in here with the rest," Jules said, holding the now-stuffed leather backpack out to her. Jennifer rolled up the jeans and sweater as tight as she could get them, then managed to cram them in at the top. They left the shop as it had appeared when they'd broken in--minutes several articles of clothing, of course.
"This likely being a small town, don't you think someone will recognize these clothes as being stolen?" Jennifer whispered, feeling terribly visible and guilty as they moved through the dark streets.
"It's possible," Jules said. "Though I don't think we'll have as much a problem as you might. Women's attire was more original now."
"Wonderful," Jennifer muttered.
"Hey guys?" Verne said a minute later. "Where are we going?"
The question stopped all of them in their tracks. "Uh, I guess we can try to find a place to stay while here, maybe like a hotel or something," Marty said, scratching his head.
"And where do you plan to find one of those?" Jennifer couldn't resist asking. "I don't think people had neon vacancy signs or yellow pages yet!"
Marty frowned at her, irritation beginning to show on his face. "You know, Jennifer, you--"
"Shhhhhh!" Jules hissed, raising a hand. "I heard something!"
The four of them froze, Marty shutting his mouth before the sentence could be completed. Jennifer tilted her head to the side, straining her ears. All she could hear was the faint sound of the surf on the beach nearby.
"I don't hear anything," she said softly, after a silent moment. "It must have been your imagination, Jules."
Jules frowned, pensive. "I know heard something," he whispered.
Verne looked at him skeptically. "Probably our footsteps," he said. "Or maybe the ocean."
"Anyway," Marty said, "why are you so concerned with that? We're not doing anything wrong, being out here now."
Jules didn't look comforted. "I heard something," he insisted again.
"Probably nothing," Marty said, starting forward again. Verne and Jennifer followed him, but Jules stayed put a moment more before continuing on.
"I know I heard something," Jennifer heard him mutter. She started to turn around, ready to say something on how it would be easy to misinterpret a sound in this kind of place, when all hell broke loose.
Jennifer saw a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. She started to turn her head, then felt something--someone?--slam into her side. The force was so hard and unanticipated that she toppled to the ground, the heavy skirt tangling in her legs.
"Verne! Martin!" Jules yelled, as Jennifer struggled with the person who was now on top of her.
"Get off me!" she yelled, fear sharpening her voice into something she hardly recognized.
"Hey, what the hell are you doing?!" Marty yelled. Jennifer twisted her head around, trying to throw her hair out of her eyes, and caught sight of Marty rushing for the thug's back. He threw himself into the guy on Jennifer, successfully knocking him off her. Jennifer sat up, fighting to get her legs freed from the damned skirt as Marty attempted to overpower the guy. The two were rolling around on the ground a few feet away, duking it out.
"Jules! Verne!" Jennifer called, looking around for the two boys. They were both busy trying to fight off another thug, who was easily twice the size of them. They weren't having much luck. The man held Verne tightly by the arm with one hand, the other hand gripping Jules by the shoulder. Both boys wore a grimace on their faces; the creep was probably holding them too tightly. Despite the man's size, Verne was not intimidated; he kicked the guy in the shins. The man growled and jerked Verne hard, yanking him off the ground for a moment.
"Why don't you pick on someone your own size!" Jules cried, angry. The man gave him a hard shake in response and Jules closed his mouth.
Jennifer started to get up to help out, only to fall back to the ground as her sneaker caught the hem of the skirt. She saw someone running towards them and felt a wave of relief. Help-- it's about time!
The relief was short lived, however. As the person grew closer, Jennifer could see he held a heavy wooden club--and made a beeline straight for Marty and the first attacker. Jennifer was willing to bet that the guy wasn't going to be helping Marty out.
"Marty!" she shouted. "Watch out!"
At the sound of Jennifer's warning, Marty glanced up, saw the approaching danger, and promptly threw himself to the side, off the first thug. The new arrival swung the club towards his head. Marty ducked, rolling away, the weapon missing his head by inches. Jennifer finally managed to get to her feet without falling and ran over to the jerk trying to hit her boyfriend.
"Stop it!" she yelled, jumping on his back and wrapping her arms around his neck. Jennifer inwardly shuddered at the touch of the man's long, grimy hair on her skin. But her distraction worked; the bully staggered back a few feet, giving Marty the chance to scramble to his feet.
The man whom Jennifer was holding onto brought the club up, slamming it hard into her left arm. Jennifer gasped in pain, letting go and falling back onto the hard ground. Her arm throbbed at the spot where the jerk had hit her and she groaned softly. Marty saw the pained look on her face and his own expression darkened swiftly.
"You bastard!" he cried, lunging for the bully.
"Marty, don't!" Jennifer screamed, knowing that was the worst possible thing for him to do.
The thug who had hit her grinned as Marty approached him, revealing more teeth missing than present. He tensed his body, raising the club. Marty saw his intentions and tried to slam on the breaks, but it was too little, too late. The thug swung his club hard, catching Marty right on the temple. The crack of the blow made Jennifer wince worse than her bruised arm had. Marty went down hard, nearly knocking over the jerk who had hit him. He didn't get up.
Oh God, Jennifer thought, her heart hammering in her throat. She looked at the goon responsible for it. "You bastard!" she hissed, repeating her boyfriend's earlier words.
The man looked down at Marty, then at her, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "My apologies, señorita , but he was being too much of a bother."
Jennifer frowned for a moment, distracted from the stranger's words. They were all in English, though they did carry a Spanish accent in them. The translators, she thought. This must be how they work out.
"Who are you?" she demanded as the two other thugs came over, dragging Jules and Verne with them. "What do you want with us? Do you want to rob us? If so, we don't have any money, so that would be a lot cause!"
The three thugs exchanged a look. They were not attractive by any stretch of the imagination. All three were pretty grimy, their clothes tattered and their hair uncombed and stringy. The one holding onto Jules and Verne was a huge guy, who looked like he worked out regularly. He was easily six feet tall, unusual in a time period like this, Jennifer was sure. His hair was cropped short and an earring rested in one lobe. He wore a full beard on his face, which was as dirty as the rest of him.
The guy who had hit Marty had long brown hair, nearly the same length as Jennifer's shoulder-length tresses. He had a few inches on both Marty and Jennifer, though he didn't appear to be in as good as shape as the first thug, his face and middle more round than toned.
The last guy, the guy who had started this entire thing originally by jumping on Jennifer, was the smallest of the three. Not necessarily by height, but he looked like almost all skin and bones. The look was deceiving, as Jennifer well knew; the guy was pretty damned strong! He shared the first man's short brown hair, though his hair was much lighter, but no piercing. Instead, his one distinctive feature was a nose that looked two sizes too big for his face. He looked at Jennifer, sitting on the ground, and slowly grinned, showing off more poor dental work.
"The chica has got fire," he said to the other two cronies. "Cap'n will be pleased."
"Captain?" Verne asked. "You mean, like a pirate captain?"
The thug with the club gave Verne a harsh look before turning his gaze on his friend. "Hush, Marco! Such things should not be spoken!"
Jennifer felt a wave of fear course through her body. "What do you want from us?" she repeated, struggling to keep her voice steady.
Marco stepped forward and pulled her roughly to her feet, clenching his hand right where she had been hit. Jennifer groaned at the pain, not even trying to fight back. "Hush, little girl," he breathed, his face an inch from hers. Jennifer tried not to gag from the stench of his breath. "We need all of you to come with us now. Should you struggle, we will put your fighting friend in the ocean."
Jennifer looked at Marty in horror, as the man with the stick lifted him up. "We'll come," she said softly.
"Where are we going?" Jules asked as they were pulled down the street. "You cretins could tell us that, at least."
The three thugs looked puzzled at Jules' insult. "We're takin' you aboard," the guy with the long hair answered. "We'll set sail with the tide an' will be needin' more workers."
"Are you guys pirates?" Verne asked again, his voice considerably impressed even as they were being dragged bodily towards the docks.
The three thugs laughed, amused. That was all Jennifer needed to hear. Her heart plunged to the soles of her sneakers. Oh my God, she thought. We're being kidnapped by pirates!
"Are we moving now?"
"I...I believe so."
"Where are they taking us?"
"I would assume to another port city."
"I'll bet it's an island--a treasure island!"
Voices swam past Marty's ears in a dizzying collage. At first they were faint, fading in and out, but gradually they grew clearer and closer.
"Don't be foolish, Verne. Much of what you believe about pirates is fiction."
"Well, not all of it! And how do you know it's fiction--have you hung out with 'em before?"
"Guys, I think we should worry more about the situation at hand then whether or not what's written about pirates is true."
Marty opened his eyes at the sound of the last voice, clearly recognizing it as Jennifer's. But instead of seeing her, he saw nothing but blackness. "Jennifer," he said, starting to sit up--then sunk back down with a groan as the pain hit him. His head ached and throbbed, the sensation growing only marginally better as he settled back.
"Marty? Are you awake?"
"I--I think so," Marty said, moaning softly. "Man, my head!"
"Those pirates knocked you out," Marty heard Verne say. "Remember?"
"Why can't I see anything?" Marty asked, opening his eyes wide. Blackness remained. "Am I blind now?" The very thought made him feel sick to his stomach.
"Hardly," Jules said from nearby. "We're in a windowless room. We can't see anything, either."
"Where the hell are we? What happened?" Marty tried sitting up again and realized it would be a bad idea, laying back on the hard floorboards. Jennifer reached out and found his hand, giving it a squeeze. Marty squeezed it back.
"We've been abducted by what appear to be sea pirates," Jules said. "They took us aboard their craft and I believe we're now at sea."
"What!?" Marty cried. He sat up again without thinking about it, a powerful sensation of disorientation causing his head to spin and his stomach to roll. With only darkness around he couldn't get his balance and fell right into someone on his left.
"Sorry," he muttered, realizing it was Jennifer. Marty could feel her shrug.
"It's okay, Marty--you really should lie back down, though."
Marty ignored her suggestion, bracing his hands on the floor to keep his balance. "What do you mean that we're on a ship at sea?" he demanded, turning his head in the direction he thought Jules was at.
"We were captured by those men who attacked me," Jennifer said, answering Marty's question instead of Jules. "Do you remember that?"
Marty thought hard for a moment, trying to ignore his physical discomforts. He remembered the scuffle and the man tackling Jennifer. "Yeah," he said, his hands clenching into fists without him thinking about it. "Those bastards! Did they hurt you, Jen?"
"Not any worse than they hurt you," Jennifer said.
"Why the hell are we sailing on a pirate ship?" Marty asked, none of this making any sense to him. "Why did they take us on board?"
"None of us are quite sure of the precise reason," Jules said. "It's not robbery, as we told them from the start that we have nothing of value. However, they did mention they needed more workers on board. I don't understand why Jennifer was brought on board as well, since women were not made to do that kind of work now."
"Oh, I'm sure they have their reasons for bringing me along," Jennifer said darkly. Marty frowned at her words, his temper arching sharply at the very idea of those jerks laying one hand on his girl.
"Jules, they didn't get the bag, did they?" he asked, suddenly remembering the backpack of future things that the boy had been carrying earlier.
"No, I have that right here," Jules said.
"Good. Might wanna keep that hidden from them. If they take that...." Marty left the sentence hanging in the air, unfinished. "How long have we been sailing?"
"I'm not sure. Perhaps twenty minutes."
"I'll bet they're taking us to bury the treasure!" Verne cried, his voice filled with excitement. "How cool!"
"I don't think the rest of us share your enthusiasm," Jules said. No one said anything for a minute, the creaking of the ship the only sound. Marty took a deep breath of the stale air and lay back down, feeling sick. He wasn't sure if it was from his wicked headache or the way the ship was going up and down and up and down with large swells....
"Oh, man, I feel sick," Marty moaned softly. Jennifer immediately reached out for him, her hands running lightly over his face.
"What's wrong? Is it your head?"
"And my stomach," Marty said. "I get seasick." He groaned again.
"How can this make you sick?" Verne asked. "It's fun, like being on an amusement park ride!"
"Shut up," Marty muttered, wishing he wasn't the only one susceptible to seasickness in the room.
"Maybe you'd feel better with some fresh air and light," Jules suggested.
Jennifer snorted softly. "Like those goons would let us out."
As if on cue, heavy footsteps approached the room. Marty heard a jingling of keys, then a click of a latch--and the door swung open. Light from a lantern fell into the room, making Marty squint. A man stepped into the room, two others right behind him.
"How are we doing?" the young man in the front asked, the words coated in a heavy Spanish accent. As Marty's eyes struggled to adjust to the light, he realized that he recognized the man in the front! He was dressed fairly elaborately, wearing a red coat, skin olive-toned and his curly black hair tied back in a ponytail. A ghost of a mustache hovered over his upper lip, though his face was otherwise freshly scrubbed and cleanshaven. Most surprising of all, he looked about Marty's age, no older. Marty's mind whirled as he struggled to recall where he had seen that face before, as Jennifer answered the man's question.
"Not very well, no thanks to you," she snapped. Her words caused the man to smile slowly as he stepped closer to Marty's girlfriend.
"Ah, such fire. I would not speak to a captain of a ship in that way, señorita. One might believe that you do not respect me."
"I don't!" Jennifer insisted, scowling. Marty sat up as the man--the ship's captain?-- grew closer to his girl.
"Lay off her," he demanded, then winced at the ship hit another large swell. The captain's smile grew larger at Marty's pained expression.
"Are you her protector? I do not believe you protected her well at port."
Marty couldn't help it; he jumped to his feet. The room spun and tilted around him. Marty staggered back, falling against the wall. He swallowed hard, trying to keep the contents of his stomach down where they belonged. "You--" he managed to say, then was forced to stop. Jennifer glanced at Marty with concern, then stood herself.
"I don't need to be protected," she told the man firmly. "I can take care of myself."
The three men in the room snickered, especially the leader. "She be a spitfire, Cap'n," one of the sidekicks said.
The leader looked at Jennifer, his smile fading. "Do you know who I am, señorita ?"
"No, and I don't care," Jennifer said flatly.
The man looked irritated. "I'm Juan de la Vega, captain of this ship, El Mar Tiburón. Surely you've heard of me."
"I have!" Verne exclaimed, his eyes wide. He looked at the pirate with a mixture of awe and fear.
"Goddamn," Marty gasped out, realizing where he had seen the pirate captain before. Doc B led us to him! This is unbelievable! Out of all the pirates in the Caribbean, they had to meet up with this one again! The odds were staggering. Marty tried to remember if he and Doc Brown had met the pirate before or after the time they were now, but couldn't honestly remember. He was willing to bet it was before, though, since the pirate obviously didn't recognize him and was still alive.
At Verne's exclamation, Juan de la Vega smiled. "Have you now? I hope it was all good things."
"I'll say," Verne agreed, beaming at the pirate. "It was all about your treasure and how it's so well hidden no one can find it!"
Juan looked startled, his smile wavering. "I see," was all he said, exchanging a look with his two sidekicks. Marty looked harder at them and recognized them both as being part of the gang that had kidnapped them--the one on the left, in fact, was the guy who had hit him!
"Who are they?" he managed to say, gesturing to the men behind Juan.
Juan's smile returned. "This is my first mate, Poncho, and second mate, Marco," he said, gesturing to the man who had hit Marty, and then his friend whom Marty recognized as the guy who had tackled Jennifer.
"Why did you take us from Port Royal?" Jules asked. "What use are we to you?"
"We need more workers on our journey," Captain de la Vega said. "You should know not to walk by the docks so late in Port Royal!"
"What use am I to you?" Jennifer demanded. "Are you going to put me to work, too? I thought you didn't do that to women!"
The three pirates laughed. "Oh, my dear, you are quite the teller of jokes," Juan said, chuckling. "We would not dream of having you on the decks! No, when we reach our final destination, we will put you on the auction block. Though," Juan added as Jennifer's face paled, "other arrangements may be made."
Marty's temper welled up again at the captain's words. "You sonofabitch," he swore. "If you lay one hand on her--"
"I don't think you would be much help to her, chico ," Juan interrupted, frowning at Marty. "I want you, you, and you"--he pointed to Marty, Jules, and Verne-- "to follow me to deck. And you, señorita , will go with Poncho to your new quarters. I believe you will find them more...comfortable than this cell."
Jennifer glared at the pirate. "I want to stay with my friends."
"I'm afraid that is not an option," Juan said, his face darkening. "Now will you come peacefully, or will Marco and Poncho have to help you?"
Jennifer gave the pirate the coldest look Marty had ever seen on her face, then tossed her hair back. "I can walk, thank you very much," she said in a clipped voice.
"Very good." Juan looked Jennifer up and down, a smile playing with his mouth. "Very good, indeed."
Marty's face burned as the pirate captain checked his girlfriend out. "You'd better leave her alone," he said, the words coming out weak even to his ears. Juan shifted his eyes over to Marty, the smile fading again.
"I assure you that she will not be harmed." Juan looked at Jennifer, the smile returning. "How could I harm such a beautiful creature?"
Jennifer's face remained stony at the pirate's words. She cast a quick look at Marty, Jules, and Verne before being led away by Poncho and Marco. Once Jennifer was out of the room, the pirate's attention returned to the three remaining time travelers.
"I expect you three to work hard, or else something may happen to the señorita. Is that understood?"
Marty's mouth dropped open at the threat. "You promised that you wouldn't hurt her!"
"I will not, should you three cooperate with my crew," Juan said. "Do you understand that?"
Marty glared at the pirate, unable to agree to such a lowhanded deal. Jules answered for them. "Yes, we understand."
"Very good. Follow me, then."
The captain left the room. Jules and Verne looked at each other, then looked at Marty. "Do you need any help walking?" Jules asked.
Marty shook his head once, stepping away from the wall as he crossed the rocking floor. "No, I can handle it."
"You look kinda green," Verne said, his voice sympathetic. "Are you gonna puke?"
Marty closed his eyes for a moment, leaning against the doorway as another wave of nausea washed over him. "Probably," he muttered when he was able to speak again. "It's hell, but this should pass once I get used to the ship's movement."
"I have some motion sickness pills in the first-aid kit," Jules offered. Marty looked at him sharply with the news.
"Really? Give me some, then."
Jules looked uncomfortable. "I don't know, Martin. They have a rather strong side- effect--"
"As long as it's not vomiting, I don't care," Marty said. "Let me have the pills before I start puking and can't keep 'em down."
Jules sighed, setting the backpack on the ground and opening it up. After digging though the future clothes to the bottom of the pack, he pulled out the first-aid kit and popped it open, locating a small plastic pharmacy bottle a moment later. "Here," he said, opening it with no trouble and handing Marty a little blue pill. "One of these lasts 24 hours."
"Great," Marty said, popping it in his mouth and swallowing it dry with a grimace. "How long before they take effect."
"Not long, I would imagine. And you'll know when it does, trust me." Jules put the kit back in the backpack. "They have a strong side-effect of drowsiness."
"Could be worse side-effects," Marty said, unconcerned. He went after the pirate, down a dark, narrow hall, then up some stairs, finally emerging on the ship's deck. The sun was rising, just over the watery horizon. Marty squinted and shielded his eyes from the glare, seeing the faint rise of land in the distance--which they happened to be moving away from.
Juan was standing by the railing, looking out at the sea. Marty approached him with more than a little reluctance, Jules and Verne trailing behind. He stopped, holding onto a rope nearby for balance as the deck tilted under his feet from another wave. Marty took a deep breath of the damp sea air, wishing that the ship would stop moving for at least a few minutes--or until that pill kicked in. The fresh air didn't make him feel any better.
Juan turned around a minute later, looking at Marty. "What is your name?"
Marty swallowed hard, willing his stomach to stay put as he spoke. "Marty."
"Marty," the captain said slowly, as if the name was new to him. "I want you to scrub the deck," he ordered. "My deck crew can show you where the supplies are." The captain's eyes found Jules and Verne, standing nearby. "Who are you boys?"
"I'm Jules, and that's Verne," Jules said, taking care of the introductions.
"Jules and Verne, eh? Well, Jules, I want you to untangle the rigging." The captain's eyes turned to Verne, and he smiled. "As for you, Verne, how would you like to be my assistant?"
Jules' eyes bugged out as Verne grinned under the captain's gaze. "Sure!" the youngest Brown agreed.
Jules turned around and looked at Marty, still clinging to the rope, his eyes in wide disbelief. Marty shrugged in response.
Juan de la Vega snapped his fingers loudly and gestured to a few scruffy men, scattered around the deck. They came right over, hovering close as Juan spoke to them in a low voice. Marty couldn't catch a word of the conversation with the sound of the waves roaring so close. After a minute, the men stepped back, and Juan crossed the deck.
"Come, Verne," Juan said, waving to the blond-haired boy. Verne looked at Jules and Marty, suddenly reluctant to trot after the pirate.
"You'd better go," Marty said softly, in an effort not to be heard by the captain.
"Yes, Benedict Arnold," Jules muttered, his voice even softer than Marty's.
Verne didn't appear to catch his brother's words, nodding at Marty and following the pirate. After the two had vanished behind the door of what was likely the captain's cabin, the handful of men came over to Jules and Marty. One took Jules by the arm and pulled him to the other side of the ship. Another, who had almost no teeth, handed Marty a mop and bucket.
"Cap'n likes the deck scrubbed so he can see his face 'n it," the man said, grinning. Marty managed a weak smile back.
"Thanks for the tip."
The man nodded. "Just pull up some water from the sea, use the soap in 'ere, and scrub. Ain't difficult. If'n you do a good job, Cap'n 'll be pleased--an' it's better to have a happy Cap'n than an unhappy one. Get it?"
Marty nodded again. The man turned around and left. Marty looked at the supplies in his hand. "I can't believe I thought this would be a relaxing vacation," he muttered under his breath.
Jennifer paced the length of the room, silently fuming, her skirts swishing around her legs. It had been only fifteen minutes since the pirate captain's sidekicks, Marco and Poncho, had locked her in what appeared to be a bedroom of some kind. There was a narrow bed against one wall, a small porthole above it, and a desk built into another wall. The room contained only two wooden chairs and a ceramic pitcher and basin. The room was quite small, about six feet by six feet. It took Jennifer only a few steps to get from one end of the room to the other.
I can't believe this! she thought, scowling. If that perverted, greasy captain lays one hand on me, I'll make sure he can never walk upright again!
As if he had heard her thoughts, there was a knock on the door. "What do you want?" Jennifer barked, stopping in her tracks. She heard the door latch click, and a moment later the door was pushed open slowly.
A young, scrawny man stood in the doorway, a bit younger that Jennifer. He wasn't very distinctive-looking in any special way, his brown hair cut shot and unevenly, his youthful face plain and expressionless. Jennifer eyed him with suspicion, not trusting anyone on this ship who was from this time period.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
"André, the cabin boy," the young man said. "The cap'n sent me to check on you and see if you wanted anythin'."
"Yes, I do," Jennifer said, nodding. "I want out of this room!"
André shook his head. "I'm 'fraid that ain't possible," he said, blocking the doorway with his body.
"And why not?" Jennifer asked. "My friends are free on this ship. I deserve the same treatment that they have!"
"You've better treatment than them, señorita ," André said. "Your amigos are bein' put to workin' on the ship."
"I'd rather do that than rot here!" Jennifer insisted, sweeping her arm around the small chamber. "I don't care if I'd have to work, too!"
André shook his head again. "Sorry, but the cap'n wants you here."
Jennifer frowned, glaring at the young man. "Then I want to talk to him!"
Yet again, André shook his head. Jennifer started hating the gesture. "He's busy right now, but'll come an' see you later."
Jennifer had had it. She stepped forward and grabbed the cabin boy by his shirt collar, pulling him towards her face. "Listen, errand boy, I don't want to wait until later. If you don't let me see him now, then let me out of this prison yourself!"
André sputtered, shocked. Jennifer decided that she'd had enough with words. It was time for action! Letting him go, she pushed him into the wall and darted for the doorway. She managed to get one foot out of the room before a large body stepped in her path. Jennifer stopped, looking up into the ugly face of the large thug who had taken Jules and Verne on board.
"Goin' somewhere, señorita ?" he growled, grabbing Jennifer's still-sore arm and squeezing it hard. She winced, managing a shake of her head at the question.
"No, sir, of course not," she muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. The thug shoved her in the room, hard. Jennifer stumbled backwards, tripping on the hem of her dress and falling to the floor. The bully smirked at her, then grabbed André's arm--the cabin boy was still standing against the wall, staring at her--and pulled him out of the room. The door slammed shut a second later, the lock falling back into place.
Jennifer closed her eyes and sighed, remaining seated on the floor. I should kill Marty for what he's putting me through, she thought. But, despite the fact he had dragged her to the past against her wishes, she couldn't be mad at him anymore. All the recent events since they'd arrived weren't really his fault--and, Jennifer realized, opening her eyes, he was suffering right now as well.
"Those jerks are going to pay," she whispered aloud, thinking of the pirates.
Jules Brown made a face as he struggled to untangle the yards and yards of thick, prickly rope that the captain had ordered him to do. Already, his hands were covered with red scratches from the abrasive material that ropes were created from in this time. And as much as Jules loved puzzles, untangling knots had never been his favorite activity.
I cannot believe how easily Verne is getting off!
Jules' mood did not improve when he thought of his brother, still in Juan de la Vega's cabin with the pirate. Just because he had been impressed with the pirate, Verne got to have the easiest job of them all! It really made him mad!
Wait 'til I tell Father about this trip! Jules thought, even though he knew very well he might get in trouble, too. Still, it had been Verne's idea from the start and Verne should be the one who should get in trouble if there was any justice left in the world.
Jules heaved a deep sigh, then looked over to the starboard side of the ship, across from him. Marty was on his hands and knees, scrubbing the deck. He didn't look as green as he had earlier, but his movements were slow and sluggish. As Jules watched, Marty stopped scrubbing for a moment, bowing his head. A second later he jerked his head up, giving it a hard shake, then resumed scrubbing.
Jules looked around. The few crew members he saw were fully occupied with their own little chores. Jules dropped the tangles of ropes and hurried over to Marty.
"How are you feeling now?" Jules asked softly. Marty jumped, looking up at Jules with a startled expression on his face.
"What? How am I feeling now? Better, I guess."
"The pill has taken effect, I gather."
"Yeah. I'm not feeling nauseous anymore. Thanks."
Jules looked at him, noting to himself Marty's glassy-eyed stare. "You're feeling the side- effect, aren't you?"
"Whatever are you talking about?" Marty asked, reaching up to rub his forehead.
"The fatigue. You shouldn't have to deny it--it's quite obvious how you are feeling."
Marty looked at Jules for a moment, silent. "Okay," he said softly. "So I feel really drowsy. I'm just gonna have to ignore it. I don't want those pirate assholes to do anything to Jennifer because of me."
Jules crouched down next to Marty, so they were eye level. "That might be a moot point, soon," he said in a low voice, as to not be overheard by anyone on the crew. "You ingested the pill how long ago? Thirty minutes?"
Marty shrugged, trying to conceal a yawn behind his hand. "I guess."
Jules looked at his watch, a twentieth-century timepiece he still wore on his wrist. The time of day was only about a half hour off from reality--they had left the future at about 11:30PM and arrived in Jamaica at midnight--but it still gave Jules a good idea on the amount of time that had passed since Marty took the pill. "That's about right," he said, half to himself. "I'd estimate that within fifteen minutes, you'll be completely out of commission for the next several hours."
"Out of commission?" Marty repeated. "What do you mean by that?"
It was Jules' turn to shrug. "Simply put, the urge to sleep will be irresistible for your body, no matter how much you want to remain awake. I told you that those pills had a strong side effect."
Marty looked at him skeptically. "How would you know?"
"Mother had an experience with motion sickness when we went to Disneyland last December, so Father gave her one of those pills. Less than an hour after ingesting the pill, she went into a deep sleep that lasted for a few hours. I'm assuming that the same will happen to you."
"Well, I can't lie down or anything like that. Don't worry, I'll be fine." Marty yawned again as he finished talking, turning his attention back to cleaning the deck.
It was Jules turn to be skeptical. "Maybe you won't have the opportunity to lie down, like Mother did, but who is to say the same won't happen to you, regardless?"
"It's a risk I'll have to take," Marty said. "I'm keeping busy. I'll just have to ignore this feeling, and it'll soon pass. Why the hell should I give those pirates any reason to hurt Jennifer?"
Jules sighed, frustrated that Marty wasn't getting it. "Fine. Don't heed my warnings. But don't blame me if you should suddenly collapse."
Marty shrugged, not saying anything. Jules went back to his task, his fingers aching from the many sharp, rough fibers that protruded from the rope. After ten minutes of working the puzzle, Jules finally looked up in time to see Marty stand. He staggered a few steps, an expression of dazed puzzlement on his face. Jules watched as he leaned over, his hands on his knees. The boy glanced around quickly--no one seemed to be paying attention to either Marty or himself, all wrapped up in their own jobs. Jules let the ropes go and hurried over to Marty's side.
"Do you believe me now?" he couldn't help asking when he reached the teen. Marty was slow to lift his head up, his eyes half closed as he peered at Jules.
"I'm fine," he said softly, the words spoken slowly and carefully.
Jules hardly thought so. "You might want to sit down before you fall down," he warned.
Marty shook his head, listing to one side as he did so. "I....can handle....this," he mumbled, reached out to hold onto the railing.
"No, you can't," Jules said. "Stop fighting this--it's inevitable. It's a chemical side effect from the medication. It's no sign of weakness on your part."
Marty managed to look at him, slouching back against the ship's railing. "But Jennifer...." he whispered, clearly struggling to hold his eyes open.
"She'll be fine," Jules said, hoping that he was correct. He doubted Marty believed the words, but the struggle against sleep finally became too much for him. The words had hardly left Jules' mouth when Marty's eyes finally closed all the way. He slumped forward, losing a grip on the railing and hitting the deck none too softly, face down.
Jules stared down at him a moment, a little worried, then looked up. "Hey!" he shouted. "Someone assist me over here!"
A crew member, perched in the ship's crow's nest, looked down at Jules' cries. "What's yer problem, boy?"
Jules pointed to Marty, putting a bit of alarm in his voice for good measure. "My friend just fell over! I think he's hurt!"
The man in the crow's nest squinted at Marty, then looked over at a couple crew members near the bow of the ship. "Hey, Fernando, José, see what the problem is o'er there!"
The two men hurried over. Jules swallowed hard, a little intimidated by the appearance of the two large, burly, tattooed crew members. "What's the problem, boy?" one asked.
Jules once again pointed to Marty at his feet. "My friend fell down all of the sudden," he said, stretching the truth a tad. "I believe he might be hurt."
The two pirate crew members exchanged some kind of look at Jules' words. One of them, a older, bald man with deeply tanned skin, kicked Marty in the side, none too softly. Jules winced at the treatment, but Marty was oblivious to it; he didn't move.
"What's wrong with 'em?" the second man asked, looking at Jules.
Jules shrugged, widening his eyes in what he hoped was a look of innocence. "I don't know. I was hoping you could tell me."
The two crew members exchanged another look. "Should we get Cap'n?" the bald one asked.
His partner shook his head. "No, Cap'n hates to be disturbed. Let's just lock 'em up with the other captive."
Jules blinked at that, realizing that the "other captive" was probably Jennifer. Marty would be pleased with that, he was sure. Jules stepped back as the two men grabbed Marty by the arms and hoisted him up. Jules watched as they dragged him away, through a trapdoor and into the bowls of the ship.
At almost the same instant they vanished, the door to the captain's cabin opened and Verne marched out, wearing a large, smug smile on his face. Jules' mood abruptly shifted with the expression on his brother's face. He had vowed earlier never to speak to him again, but already knew that rule would have to be broken.
"What are you so happy about?" Jules growled, intercepting Verne as he walked by.
Verne glanced at him, a faint frown twisting his mouth. "You know, Jules, you've gotta stop getting so jealous of me. It's not healthy."
Jules stared at his brother, his face burning with a rush of blood. "I'm not jealous of a traitor like you," he hissed. "You are siding with the enemy!"
"They're not so bad once you get to know 'em," Verne said. "You're just sore, since you gotta work outside with the crew."
Jules snorted softly. "And what are you doing? I wouldn't call it work!"
"I'm helping the captain out!" Verne said, his frown deepening. "An' it is work, even if you don't think so! Like, right now, I'm making sure everyone is doing their job. And you aren't." Verne's frown twisted into something resembling a smirk. "Watch it, Jules, or I'll have to report you!"
Jules scowled at Verne, staring down at his brother--now only a couple inches shorter than him. "You're nothing but the captain's flunky, doing his more menial work!"
"You take that back," Verne demanded. "I am not! I'm his assistant !"
"Stop clinging to that illusion," Jules said. "You are nothing more than his little servant boy, happy to do anything for ol' Captain de la Vega!"
"I'm not stupid, Jules!" Verne hissed in a whisper, his cheeks flushed with color. "Maybe I'm goin' under cover to figure out where these guys put the treasure. Ever think of that? And when I find out where it is, I'm not gonna share any of it with you!"
Jules laughed. "Sure, Verne, that'll be the day."
Verne's expression darkened, but the boy apparently decided to let the subject drop. He looked around. "Where's Marty?"
"You mean you don't know?" Jules asked, his voice dripping in sarcasm. "Oh, I'd better not tell you, or you'll run straight to your new friend, Juan de la Vega!"
Verne glared at him. "I don't need your help to find out! And, by the way, shut up!" Before Jules could slip in another word, Verne turned and ran away--off to do whatever else the pirate captain had assigned to him, Jules was sure.
"Mother and Father would have done best in stopping with children after myself," he muttered under his breath, reluctantly returning to his job. The last thing he wanted to do was be killed by an angry pirate before he was even born.
Marty had doubted Jules earlier when the boy had told him about the "side effect" of the medication--but he had no idea how true the kid's words would be. He'd never felt such a heavy exhaustion before, so suddenly and out of the blue. The last thing he could recall was arguing with Jules about not taking a break, then things grew dark and vague.
When the darkness abated a bit, the next thing he became aware of was a sensation of rocking, and something soft against his cheek. Even still half-asleep, the movement was disorienting and dizzying. Shouldn't be, should it? Marty wondered vaguely. He struggled to open his eyes, feeling groggy and weighed down. When he finally succeeded, Marty realized he was lying on his side in a bed and in some kind of small room--a bedroom, likely.
On a ship, he remembered, everything else rushing back. Marty pushed himself up, yawning widely. He felt as if he could sleep another day. Which brought to mind another question-- what time is it and where the hell am I?
Something brushed against his wrist as the ship dipped down. Marty turned his head at the sensation, blinking at the sight of Jennifer lying next to him in the narrow bunk, asleep.
"Jennifer!" he exclaimed without thinking about it. At the sound of her name, Jennifer opened her eyes and saw Marty staring down at her. She drew in a sharp breath, sitting up fast.
"Oh, God, Marty, are you okay?" she asked, her hands immediately going to his forehead. Marty brushed them away, his movements slower than normal.
"I'm fine," he said. "Except for feeling kinda spacy, I guess."
"I didn't know what to think when those two goons brought you in here!" Jennifer went on, speaking rapidly. "They said you just fell over on the deck, and then I tried to wake you after they left, but you just lay there--"
"Jennifer, I'm fine," Marty said, trying not to smile with her concern. It was a welcome change from the chilliness which she'd been treating him with since the beginning of their trip. "Jules gave me some pill to take so I wouldn't get seasick and it had some strong side-effect of knocking you out or something. I kind of doubted what he said, but I guess I did keel over up there."
Jennifer frowned, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes. "Why didn't you listen to Jules? Do you realize how much you had me worried?"
Marty held his hands up. "Hey, don't blame me with that! I admit, Jules was right--that medication really socks it to you. But it's still better than puking. And, anyway, I was worried that they would hurt you if I took a break."
Jennifer sniffed softly. Marty could practically see a wall go back up then. He opened his mouth to say something, then changed his mind and closed it. When Jennifer said nothing, Marty decided to try again.
"Jennifer?" he said softly.
"What is it?" she asked, sighing.
"Did I do something? I mean, you've more or less been giving me the cold shoulder since we got here."
Jennifer stared at him, her mouth falling open, eyes wide, not moving--then she abruptly came to life. Her lips twisted into a scowl and her eyes darkened. She pushed her way past Marty, struggling with her skirts to get off the narrow bunk.
"Marty, I can't believe you even have to ask a question like that!" she growled, finally managing to get to her feet. Jennifer staggered back a few steps, likely from the tilting of the ship, then turned to face him.
"Are you still ticked about coming here?" Marty asked in disbelief.
Jennifer rolled her eyes. "Why don't you think about that for a while, then talk to me," she snapped. "You made me come here, and I never wanted to! And now look where it's gotten us!"
"I didn't make you come," Marty said immediately. "You didn't have to go at all."
"Oh, like I had a choice!" Jennifer shot back. "You practically shoved me into that DeLorean. In fact, for all I know, you and Jules and Verne set up that meeting in the Doc's lab ahead of time!"
Marty closed his eyes for a second, wondering if it was a good or bad thing that the side-effect of the medication was still lingering in his system; the last thing he felt like doing was getting involved in a fight.
"Jennifer," Marty began patiently, opening his eyes, "I didn't set that meeting up, and I didn't force you to come. You could've said no, so stop blaming me for everything that's gone wrong!"
Jennifer stared at him, not saying anything. Marty went on, his voice rising more out of frustration than anger.
"I didn't get us into this mess here--none of that is my fault. It's not any of our faults. It was just stupid luck, okay? So don't blame me!"
"You're repeating yourself," Jennifer said evenly.
"Maybe because you're not getting it," Marty blurted out. He cringed inwardly at the words as soon as they slipped past his lips. Nice one, McFly, he thought, expecting Jennifer to blow up at him now. Instead, she merely stared at him, her face expressionless.
A long, heavy silence hung between them as Jennifer and Marty looked at each other. Then Jennifer's face cracked, with a smile. "This is stupid," she said softly. "You're right, none of this is your fault--but I still think you almost forced me to come here."
Marty opened his mouth to defend himself, but Jennifer rushed ahead. "I guess it doesn't matter anymore now, though," she said. "I mean, we're here, right? We shouldn't be wasting our energy fighting--we should be figuring out a way to get off this ship and away from these jerks."
Marty struggled with the 180 degree turn Jennifer had taken. Is she being sarcastic? he wondered, trying to figure out just how much that medication was messing with his mind. "Right," he managed.
Jennifer nodded. "Now, Marty," she said, her tone considerably nicer than earlier, "what do we do about these pirates?"
Marty thought a moment, then shrugged. "I don't know."
Jennifer drew her lips together, frowning. "You don't know?"
Marty shook his head. "Nope."
Jennifer stepped over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, next to Marty. She sighed deeply, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees, face in hands. "Marty?" "Hmmm?"
"We will get out of this...right?"
Marty looked at her and managed a smile. "Of course, Jen. Doc and I have gotten out of worse situations than this one."
"But Doc Brown isn't here now."
Marty's smile wavered at that reminder. Christ, he thought. Doc was usually the one who came up with the plans out of their messes. "It doesn't matter," he said, trying to sound confident in his words. "We'll think of something, I'm sure."
"What will happen if we don't return to Port Royal before the DeLorean does?" Jennifer asked.
Marty sucked in a sharp breath at the reminder of their deadline here. "Not good," he said, seeing no reason to lie to his girlfriend.
"So," Jennifer summarized, "we have a week. And where will we be in a week? We could be miles and miles from here!"
Marty put an arm around Jennifer's shoulders, partially to consol her but also to comfort himself. "Jennifer, don't worry."
"Easy for you to say," Jennifer grumbled. "You're not being eyed by the pirate captain like a tasty dessert!"
Marty gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Jen, if that captain lays one hand on you, I swear to God he'll regret it!"
"Damn right he will," Jennifer said darkly. " I'll make sure of that!"
As if to test her words, the two of them heard footsteps outside the door. A rattle of keys, and the door opened. Poncho stood on the threshold. He looked at Marty, his eyes narrowed. "You," he said, pointing to Marty. "Cap'n wants you to get back to work now."
Marty hesitated. "I don't know if I should," he said softly, groaning and putting a hand to his head. "I don't feel that well...."
"And I am the King of Spain," Poncho muttered, not buying Marty's act. "You are allowed no such luxuries on this ship. Do you know what Cap'n does to those who do not pull their weight?"
Marty shrugged, honestly having no idea but knowing it was probably bad. Poncho stepped in the room and grabbed Marty's arm, pulling him to his feet. "They are not pleasant things," he said, dragging Marty towards the door. "Cap'n will be down to see you shortly, señorita," Poncho added to Jennifer.
"Oh boy, I can't wait," Jennifer said sarcastically. "When can I see Marty and the boys again?"
"Perhaps soon, if you are nice to the cap'n," Poncho said, smiling at Jennifer and giving her a look that made Marty's blood pressure rise. He slammed the door and locked it, not allowing Jennifer another word in.
"What are you going to do to us?" Marty demanded as he was pushed through the stuffy, narrow hall of the ship, towards the deck.
"Nothing, señor, should you and your friends work hard," Poncho said. "Hurry, don't drag your feet!"
Marty glared at the pirate's first mate, shoving his hands away as he struggled to not trip over the uneven floorboards. "Maybe if you'd stop pushing me so hard, I could," Marty snapped.
Poncho stopped, grabbing Marty's arm and squeezing it hard. "Listen, you," he hissed, right in Marty's ear. "You will do what you are told, and not protest. Cap'n does not like those who cause more trouble than they're worth."
"You listen," Marty corrected, not put off by the pirate's words. "I didn't even want to be here, remember? You guys are the ones who took us on board--"
"Precisely why you should do as we say," Poncho said in a low voice, the stench of his hot breath turning Marty's stomach. "A word is all it would take to send yourself and your friends to the bottom of the sea. You remember that."
Marty gritted his teeth, every nerve in his body protesting the arrangement--but he held onto his temper, pulling his arm from Poncho's grasp and walking the rest of the way down the hall, not looking back.
Marty still hadn't figured out what time it was, but as soon as he stepped on deck into the hot, dazzling sunlight, he could tell by the position of the sun that it was sometime around noon. Is this day ever gonna end? he wondered, frustrated.
Marty spotted Jules near the railing of the ship, scrubbing the deck on his hands and knees. He felt a pang of guilt, wondering if the pirates had assigned the boy his job after he'd been out of commission.
"Jules!" he called, hurrying over. Jules looked up, his cheeks flushed from the hard work and face streaked with dust. He looked throughly worn out.
"Are you feeling better now?" Jules asked as Marty reached him. "You look as if you do."
Marty nodded. "Aside from being a little groggy still, yeah," he said. "They didn't give you my job, did they?"
Jules stood up, rubbing his lower back with a grimace. "Yes, they did--once I'd completed the task of untangling the ropes. Don't worry about it, however. It's not your fault."
Marty looked around. "Have you seen Verne? What have they got him doing?"
Jules' face darkened at the mention of his brother's name. "Verne is the captain's little errand boy," he said in a low, bitter voice. "But Verne believes he is the captain's new best friend. I fear he is forgetting where his loyalty should lie."
Marty frowned at the news. "No, Verne wouldn't do that."
Jules snorted softly. "Sorry to disappoint you, Martin, but you are wrong. Verne can do it and is doing it, in fact. If you don't believe me, see him for yourself."
Marty paused, considering it. "I guess I'll wait until he runs into us again."
Jules looked up at him, squinting from the dazzling sunlight. His face was grave. "You believe me, though you don't want to admit it," he said softly. "That's okay. I don't want to believe myself either. Imagine how you would feel if you discovered your sibling was traitorous."
Marty frowned again, unable to accept what Jules was saying. "Maybe you're mistaking, Jules."
Jules shook his head. "I'm not. You'll see for yourself, soon."
Verne was having the time of his life--even if, technically, it was a time before he was born.
Time travel is awesome, he thought, standing at the very front of the ship--the prow, Verne reminded himself--and watching the blue-green ocean stretch out before him. Verne had never felt so alive before! He loved the sensation of speed, the warm, salty air blowing in his face, the excitement that awaited around every corner!
Man, if I came from now, I'd definitely be part of a pirate ship! Verne decided, tilting his head back to look at the clear sky overhead, streaked with brilliant oranges and purples as the sun set.
Aside from that sticky little incident in Port Royal--getting kidnapped and all--it had easily been one of the best days of Verne's life! Juan de la Vega--an honest-to-God real pirate captain--had taken Verne right under his wing. That morning, while counting gold coins in his cabin, the pirate captain had told him of the plans he had for both Verne and the present voyage.
"What do you think of the ship?" he asked the boy, sorting the coins into different leather pouches.
Verne, seated in a chair across from the desk, grinned at the pirate as he answered the question. "It's awesome!"
Captain de la Vega looked taken aback by the future slang. "You like it, then?" he asked, recovering quickly.
Verne nodded hard. "Oh, yessir! When I grow up, I'd like to be a pirate!"
A smile turned up the corners of Juan's mouth. "Would you, now?" he asked. "Tell me, Verne, what about it do you like?"
"Everything!" Verne proclaimed. It was probably the best answer. Juan's smile grew larger.
"You, my dear boy, I could help. That is, if you want my help."
"Sure," Verne said quickly--then paused. "Oh, wait--I have to leave next week."
"A week, eh? Well, I think I can show you a few things in a week. And if you'd like to stay on board my crew, I see promotions in your future. How would you like to be my first mate?"
Verne's eyes grew wide at the offer. "Wow!" he said softly. "That would be cool! But don't you already have one?"
Juan waved his hand, brushing away the question. "Poncho is starting to lose his worth to me. I believe he will be good to me for only a few more voyages before he will have to be...retired. You would make a fine first mate--I can tell you would be loyal to me."
At the word "loyal," Verne's happiness faded a notch. What would Marty, Jules, and Jennifer think about this? he wondered. But Verne immediately pushed the thought from his mind.
"When are you gonna bury the treasure?" he asked, changing the subject to something more exciting.
Juan finished counting out the gold in his hand before answering the question. "I believe we should reach our destination by Saturday and be able to put the treasure to rest then." Juan's eyes narrowed as he looked at Verne. "How did you know that we were to bury a treasure on this trip?"
Verne's mind scrambled for a feasible answer to the question. He finally settled on an obvious one, in his point of view. "I just figured pirates like you guys would do such a thing."
Juan de la Vega scanned him with another critical gaze, then dropped his eyes back to his desktop. "You are a perceptive lad, Verne. Tell me, who are these people you are traveling with?"
Verne hesitated again, wondering if he should lie. He finally figured the truth would be fine, in this case. "My brother, Jules, and our friends Marty and Jennifer."
"Jennifer," the captain repeated, the name sounding foreign on his lips. "Ah yes, the young woman. She is a very fine creature."
"She has a boyfriend," Verne said, figuring he'd better let the pirate know. "Marty, you know."
Juan's face darkened. "That runt of a young man with her? The one that Poncho had to subdue to be brought aboard."
"Yeah, that's him," Verne confirmed.
Another smile graced Juan's face, though this one looked cooler to Verne and lasted only a few seconds. "He is not much of a catch for such beauty. Why is she with him?"
Verne shrugged. "I dunno. They've been together as long as I've known 'em. Why don't you go ask Jennifer."
The captain made a thoughtful sound. "Perhaps." He changed the subject. "Verne, I'd like you to made rounds for me. I think you can handle it, and if you do a good job there will be a reward in it for you."
"What do I have to do?" Verne asked, immediately suspicious. Juan seemed to sense his apprehension and smiled again.
"Just walk about the ship and make sure that the crew members are busy and not off task. Report those who are off task to me and I will take care of them."
It was shortly after that Verne had run into his brother on the deck. Verne had felt needles of guilt prickling his conscience as Jules ripped into him about being a traitor, then anger had blotted that emotion out. A couple hours later, having fully explored the ship and completed the task the captain had set him out to do, Verne returned to Juan de la Vega's cabin with a full report--yet, last minute, he skipped telling the captain about Jules. Verne still was a little sketchy on the laws and practices now. The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally cause his brother's death or something, even if Verne was pretty ticked at him.
The remainder of the day passed quickly for Verne--he spent most of it roaming the pirate ship on "rounds," and also getting a pretty good picture of where things were on the ship. The crew members were really helpful, too, in telling him what the different parts of the ship were called. Verne had already memorized most of them. There were tons of nooks and crannies that would make great hiding places--but Verne didn't much care for the hold of the ship, below the decks. They were dark, cramped--even for someone of his size--and were really stuffy and smelly.
Having done a fair amount of time traveling in the last couple years, Verne had grown as accustomed as he could to some strange foods--but the food he had to choke down on the ship for was even worse than the cafeteria food at his school! It wasn't even fit for Einstein to eat! Verne tentatively nibbled at the heavily salted meat at the opposite end of the table from Marty and Jules during the late afternoon meal. Jennifer wasn't even in the room, but from what the pirate had told him, Verne got the impression she'd be spending most of her time in her cabin room.
Once the terrible meal was finished, Verne had gone back up on deck for some fresh air, before night completely settled in. He remained alone, lost in thoughts, until the first stars were just becoming visible above. It was then he heard the footsteps at his back.
"How's it going, Verne?" he heard Marty ask. Verne turned around to face his father's old friend, standing a few feet behind him, leaning against the railing. Verne had heard from some of the crew members that Marty had fainted or something earlier that morning and had to be carried down to Jennifer's room until he woke up.
"Fine," he said. "Are you feeling okay? I heard about what happened earlier."
Marty looked a little puzzled at his words. "I'm fine," he said. "I just had to sleep off the side effects of that pill your brother gave me for the seasickness."
Now it was Verne's turn to be confused, but decided to ignore it. "Are you feeling seasick anymore?"
Marty shook his head. "No, not really. May change when the pill wears off, of course, and if we get into rougher waters than this." The sea was fairly calm compared to the way it had been earlier in the day.
"Isn't this great, Marty?" Verne remarked, grinning. "We're exactly where we're supposed to be! Juan told me that we're gonna bury the treasure on the weekend! Isn't that awesome?"
Marty shook his head again. "This isn't so great, Verne. You do realize that the four of us have been kidnapped and brought on this ship against our wills. Your brother and I are being put to work like slaves, and poor Jen is being kept in a locked room. Far from the vacation I was picturing!"
Verne shrugged, feeling uncomfortable with Marty's words. "I dunno. Personally, this is exactly what I wanted--I mean, being on the ship an' all, not having you guys doing what you are."
Marty stepped closer to Verne, stopping suddenly, a grimace crossing his face. "I don't think this is the best place for me to stand--there's too much rocking. Can we go somewhere else to talk?"
Verne sighed heavily, but nodded. He followed Marty to the center of the ship, near the main mast. "Your brother and I were talking earlier--" Marty began.
"Don't tell me he's got you thinking I'm a traitor, too!" Verne interrupted, scowling at the idea of Jules brainwashing Marty to his side.
Marty held up a hand. "Chill, Verne. He said that about you, yeah, but he was angry. He was just venting. Anyway, I've been watching you today when I've seen you nearby and you are getting the best end of the deal compared to the rest of us."
Verne put his hands on his hips. "So?"
Marty sighed. "Watch yourself, is all I'm going to say to you. In a number of ways. First of all, these pirates kidnapped us--I wouldn't trust them further than I could throw one of them. Second of all, you want to be careful what you say and how you act around them--"
"I've time traveled before," Verne put in. "I know all that stuff already."
"Then you should know what I'm about to say, on Doc's behalf," Marty said. "Don't mess up anything, in terms of history! Doing what you are, you're in a perfect position to change things. Jules and I aren't so much. Jennifer could more than us. But your being friends with the captain could definitely change things!"
Verne scowled again, feeling like he was being lectured by one of his parents. "We came here to get the treasure, though," he said in a low voice, afraid of being overheard. "Don't tell me you wanna give that up!"
Marty sighed. "Verne, I'm not Doc or Clara; I can't tell you what to do. If I was your in position, knowing and experiencing what I have with time travel, I wouldn't want to chance it. At this point, I'm more concerned with getting back to the DeLorean safely in a week than anything else."
"Good," Verne said. "'Cause I'm not given' up the treasure!"
"You'd better be damn careful, then," Marty said, leaning close and whispering the words. "If there's one thing I know about pirates, it's that they would likely kill anyone who would cross them and steal their wealth."
Verne crossed his arms. "I'm not afraid of that--Juan wants to make me his first mate someday!"
"We're leaving next Thursday, Verne," Marty said. "Remember that."
"I know," Verne said sullenly. "Are you done talkin', now?"
Marty leaned back and sighed again. "Yeah, I guess I am."
"Good." Verne studied his friend a moment. Marty looked as Jules had earlier at dinner-- pale, worn out, clothes mussed and dusty from work. He suddenly felt bad and hurried to reassure him. "I'll be fine, Marty, and I'll make sure the captain doesn't hurt you guys or Jennifer. He's on my side, I know he is!"
Marty smiled at him wanly. "I hope for your sake you're right, Verne."
Jennifer was starting to wonder if the events of the last couple days were some sort of punishment for something she did. If this was what time travel was like, she'd be content to stay in the present the rest of her life--and ready to slug Marty if he ever asked her again to go on a trip with him!
Jennifer wore no watch and her only sense of time was limited to the light outside the tiny porthole window in her prison. The day before had gone on for what seemed like forever! After Marty had been taken away from the room, around what looked to Jennifer to be noontime, she had tried to nap, but without much success. Not much later the pirate's second mate, Marco, brought her a terrible lunch of stale bread and a cold, watery, unidentifiable soup. Jennifer ate as much as she could bring herself to with the bread and skipped the soup based on the smell of it alone. Marco gave her a creepy smile as he returned to take away the remainder of her food.
"Señorita must eat," he said, when he saw she hadn't taken much of the food. "You won't be wantin' to waste away 'ere."
"I don't care," Jennifer said coldly, sitting on the edge of the bed, arms folded across her chest. "Death would be a picnic compared to this place!"
"You'd best be good," Marco warned her, heading for the door again. "You don't want to make the cap'n mad."
"I could care less," Jennifer muttered under her breath.
It was when her dinner was brought in that first night that Captain Juan de la Vega paid her his first solo visit. It was, in fact, he who had brought the food. Jennifer immediately stood as he stepped inside the small room, not to show respect but to be ready in case the slimeball tried anything. Juan smiled at her as he shut the door at his back and set down a tray of food on the desk.
"How are you this evening, my dear?"
"I would be so much better if you let me out of this stuffy room," Jennifer shot back immediately. "And I'm not your dear!"
Juan continued to smile at her, Jennifer's harsh words having no effect on him. "I'm afraid that is out of the question, señorita. A ship is no place for a woman to be."
"Then why did you bring me aboard in the first place?" Jennifer demanded.
"Would you rather I left you in Port Royal, separate from youramigos ?" Juan asked. "I think not."
Jennifer simmered with that one, knowing the pirate was right. "What do you want with me?"
Juan stepped closer to her. Jennifer automatically took a step away, then another until she was backed up against the side of the bed. He reached out and touched her cheek, sliding his finger along the curve of her face. Jennifer shuddered at the touch. Juan smiled again, misinterpreting the action.
"You are a beautiful creature," he murmured. "Has anyone told you that before?"
"Yeah, as a matter of fact," Jennifer said, leaning as far as she could away from the pirate. "My boyfriend, Marty."
"Are you speaking of that runt of a young man who came with you?" Juan asked. "Surely he has not satisfied you."
"I beg your pardon!" Jennifer exclaimed. "You leave Marty out of this! His life--and mine, for that matter--is none of your business!"
"I did not speak of him first--you did, my dear," Juan said.
"What do you want?" Jennifer repeated.
Juan let his hand drop. "Surely it is obvious. I wish to love you."
"Well, sorry, I'm already spoken for," Jennifer said. "Now leave me alone, if you're not going to let me out of this prison!"
Juan frowned for the first time. "I would show more gratitude towards your captain if I were you."
"Well, you're not and I'm not going to!" Jennifer said.
Juan opened the door and paused on the threshold. "I will be back, lovely Jennifer."
"Great, I can't wait," Jennifer said sarcastically. Juan left the room, locking the door. Jennifer let out a sigh, sinking back onto the bed.
Things can't possibly get any worse than this, can they? she wondered.
The night passed agonizingly slow. Jennifer slept little, afraid the captain would pay her another visit. Every little noise she heard made her jump--and there was a considerable many of them on a ship. By the time the light of dawn seeped into the room, she felt as if she'd been awake forever. Poncho brought her the breakfast--more hard bread, a cup of questionably clean water--and, later, lunch. Jennifer saw or spoke to no one else.
After nibbling as much as she could of the lunch, Jennifer lay down and tried to sleep again. Finally, exhaustion outweighed the fear of the captain coming in the room and she fell into a deep sleep.
When she woke up, hours later, Jennifer felt a chill at the back of her neck before she even opened her eyes. Someone's in here with me, she thought. It wasn't so much what she heard-- honestly, she hadn't heard anything--but she just had that feeling she wasn't alone anymore. Willing herself to be still and keep her breathing soft and slow, Jennifer opened her eyes a fraction of an inch. She saw shadows, mostly, and a band of evening sunlight on the wall across from her. Then she saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye, accompanied by the squeak of a board. It took every ounce of concentration and will for Jennifer to remain still and silent, not betraying what she now knew.
Jennifer turned her eyes towards the motion, straining to get a look at the person in the room with her. Her heart pounded, the rush of blood roaring through her ears. It was a wonder the other in the room with her did not hear it.
Finally, the person stepped into better view. It was an unfamiliar young woman. She was on the short side, slightly stout, wearing what appeared to Jennifer as men's clothes from that time. The young woman's long, straight, brown hair was pulled back, fastened in a braided ponytail at the nape of her neck. A big-brimmed, floppy hat concealed most of her face from view, hiding it in shadow, but Jennifer caught the glitter of spectacles on the woman's round face as she moved.
"Who are you and what are you doing in here?" Jennifer asked, sitting up.
The young woman jumped, turning to face Jennifer. Now that her eyes were all the way opened, and the woman's face was in the light, Jennifer could get a clearer look at her. Immediately, Jennifer downgraded her estimation of age; she looked to be Jennifer's age, maybe even a year or so less. Her face was smooth, void of any wrinkles or blemishes.
"I am not here to harm you," the stranger said softly, holding her hands up, palms towards Jennifer. Jennifer frowned as the stranger spoke; she didn't detect any Spanish accent whatsoever. Instead, the teenaged girl sounded more Irish.
"Who are you?" Jennifer repeated.
"Katherine McClain," the stranger said. "Though I am usually called Kaylie."
Jennifer frowned. "That doesn't quite answer my question."
Kaylie nodded. "My apologies. What would you wish for me to tell?"
"What are you doing in my room?" Jennifer said. "Who are you, why are you in here--how did you get in here?" she added, realizing that the door was still closed and likely locked.
"You will not summon anyone, will you?" Kaylie asked. "I do not wish to harm you."
"Trust me, the pirates are the last people I want in here," Jennifer said dryly. Kaylie appeared to breathe a sigh of relief at that.
"Aye, that be good. To put it plainly, I am a stowaway on this ship. I boarded in Port Royal, early before dawn and the ship's departure." Kaylie's face darkened. "I've business to settle with Juan de la Vega, on behalf of me sister, Charity."
"Really?" Jennifer asked. "What did he do to her?"
Kaylie bit her lower lip. "He...took improper liberties with her. Now she is with child and Juan has left her in a state of a broken heart and in disgrace. I swore to me sister that I'd be hurtin' Juan as he hurt her and our good family."
"Is that why you're dressed like that?" Jennifer asked, unable to stop the questions though Kaylie looked as if she was going to tell more.
"Aye," the girl said, nodding. "Tis better for me than my skirts in matters such as this. I can move quicker an' if'n I am seen by the crew, they believe me to be one of them."
"So why are you in my room?"
Kaylie looked a little uncomfortable at that question. "Well, miss, I heard the pirates talkin' about a young woman on board today. So when I had the chance an' the crew was gone to a celebration, I managed to open the lock and slip inside."
Jennifer's eyes widened. "You mean the door is unlocked?!"
Kaylie nodded. "Aye."
Jennifer let out a deep breath, not knowing what to say or do now that relative freedom was so close! "Where are the pirates?" she asked.
"They be at a celebration. The cap'n is bringin' a new crew member into the fold with the ritual he does. A young man about your age, brown hair--he seemed a peculiar sort--"
"Marty," Jennifer said, knowing for sure that had to be who the teen was talking about. "You've gotta take me there!"
Kaylie looked at Jennifer from head to toe. "Pardon me from sayin', miss, but you'll be noticed straightaway in your dress, an' they'll be takin' you back here quicker than you can blink."
"I can change," Jennifer said quickly. "I don't mind at all--in fact, I prefer slacks to skirts."
Kaylie raised an eyebrow at that. "You are most unusual, miss."
Jennifer hopped down from the bed. "The name is Jennifer--Jennifer Parker--not miss. Okay?"
Kaylie nodded. "Aye. I will fetch you some proper linens to change into. It would be best if you waited here."
It was Jennifer's turn to nod. "Don't get caught on my account," she warned.
"I shan't," Kaylie promised, slipping quickly out of the room.
Friday, August 11, 1677 was quickly going down in Marty's book as one of the most hellish days of his life. After a night of prowling the ship "on watch," for several hours, he was allowed three hours to sleep in the crew bunkroom, in one of the hammocks. Marty spent most of that time tossing and turning before finally falling into a light sleep that was interrupted in less than an hour for his next job.
With daybreak, the captain and his various cronies kept him busy all day with different tasks. It was grueling work, especially for someone unused to the heat and humidity found in the Caribbean in the summer. Marty knew he was going to have one nasty sunburn by the time they left. The only positive thing in Marty's eyes was that his seasickness appeared to be over with; he'd felt fine the entire day.
Jules, too, had been pushed hard--and Marty was a little worried about that. He was just a kid, after all. Jules had hardly said a word to anyone that day, except to assure Marty he was fine when he had asked. As for Verne, Marty had seen him on and off all day, marching around the ship and looking rather smug. Much as Marty hated to admit it, he was afraid that Jules was right about his brother; he was acting rather traitorous.
Jennifer was a mystery to him. Marty hadn't seen nor heard anything about her all day and hadn't had the chance to slip away and search for her.
Juan de la Vega approached Marty in the evening, as the teen was busy keeping watch for other ships. Marty didn't know why he was assigned such a dreary task; the only thing he saw was the glare of the sunlight against the water, which was giving him a splitting headache.
"How are you enjoying the voyage?" Juan asked, stepping up to the railing beside Marty. Marty glanced over at him with more than a little suspicion.
"What do you want?" he asked immediately, not wanting to get involved in a lot of small talk with the guy who had kidnapped them.
Juan looked wounded at Marty's reply. "Señor , you hurt me. What makes you think I want something from you?"
Marty just looked at him, meeting his dark eyes without a flinch or a waver. Juan was impossible to read, his youthful face serious and impassable. Finally, after a long moment, Juan slid his eyes away towards the flat horizon. "You are invited to a celebration tonight with the crew."
Marty rolled his eyes. "Well, thanks for the offer, but I don't want to go."
Juan's jaw tightened, though the pirate kept his gaze on the sea. "You've not a choice, señor. It is an order, not an option."
"Then why are you even asking me?" Marty asked, not getting it at all.
Juan turned away from the ocean and looked at Marty again. "You may think me an evil monster, señor , but I am a gentleman always. You are to be in the galley at nine tonight. If you are not there, your lovely señorita will suffer. Am I clear, then?"
Marty was completely baffled with this guy. Some gentlemen, threatening Jennifer, he thought angrily. And why the hell does he want me at some crew party so bad? "Yes," Marty said. "Crystal."
Juan blinked, his face wavering before Marty's eyes. "Crystal? No, we keep none of that on the ship. It breaks far too easily in the tropical storms."
Marty stared at him, not getting it for a few seconds before it finally dawned on him. "That's nice to hear," he said, the words filled with sarcasm. But Juan didn't appear to catch it, just as he had missed the future slang. The pirate wandered off without another word.
Without a watch, Marty had no choice but to go to the galley almost right after Juan de la Vega's departure. He made a face as he descended into the bowels of the ship; the space was small and stuffy, filled with odors that Marty figured he was better off not knowing.
The galley--basically the cafeteria on the ship--was dimly lit with lanterns from the low rafters and already filled with a great number of people. As Marty stepped inside the room, the loud conversation nearly stopped for a moment. Marty smiled nervously, wondering what he was being led into. He stood up against the wall, on the fringes of the crowd, until Juan entered the room a few minutes later.
"Marty," the captain said, noticing him immediately, "come sit here."
Marty was led to the head of the long table by two of the largest crew members. Once he was seated, they stood next to him as if they were bodyguards. Marty felt another wave of unease, especially at the way all the pirates were looking at him--an expression best described as gleeful anticipation. Marty wondered what the hell was about to happen to him. He didn't have to wonder long.
Juan stepped beside Marty and gestured to Poncho, hovering in the wings. Poncho came forward, carrying a large jug. He set it on the table with a heavy thud. Another gesture from Juan and Marco came forward with a small glass--it looked like a shot glass. Marty watched it all without understanding. Juan explained a moment later.
"Tis tradition on my ship to have each new crew member demonstrate their tolerance for liquor," Juan said.
Marty stared at him for a moment, wondering if he was hearing the captain right. "Let me get this straight," he said slowly. "You want to get me drunk?"
Juan gave him a tight-lipped smile. " Señor , you speak too harshly of it. Tis merely a test to see of your tolerance for liquor--and, if you can be trusted when in such a state."
Marty still remembered all too clearly his last experience with drinking--albeit an accidental one--nearly a year ago, on the Oregon Trail. "No thanks," he said, starting to stand up. He was stopped by a firm hand from one of the two large crew members bookending him. Juan's face darkened.
"Again, señor , I do not believe you understand. This is no choice for you. Every one of my men has taken this test. And you are not going to get out of it."
"Let me remind you that I never wanted to be on your ship or crew," Marty said, struggling to keep his temper. "I don't see why I have to take this little initiation rite of yours."
"Tis tradition," Juan said simply. "And you shall take it--unless you want lovely Jennifer to suffer for your poor choice."
"You are a bastard, you know that?" Marty said, feeling the blood rush to his face at that threat. "You're just hiding behind my girlfriend!"
"But you love her, yes?" Juan asked, leaning forward and speaking in a low voice.
"What do you mean?" Marty cried. "Of course I love her!"
"Then it would be best for you to do what I ask. If you love her, you wish for no harm to come to her."
Marty sputtered, unable to think of a good verbal comeback to that. Juan smiled again, leaning back.
"Drink, amigo. Tis not poison we give you."
It may as well be from the way I'll feel later, Marty thought, still simmering as he was shoved back down in the chair. He looked around at the dozen faces surrounding him, their expressions dark and grim, threatening without a word. Marty swallowed hard, seeing no way out of this one.
Shit, he thought.
Poncho uncorked the jug and poured a generous amount into the glass before Marty. " Negro Murte, " he said. "Cap'n's specialty."
Negro what? Marty thought, not getting it. He wondered if it was the name of the drink and wished desperate that Jennifer was around to translate. Well, it didn't matter.
"Drink up," Juan de la Vega urged. "Show how much of a man you are."
Marty gritted his teeth against Juan's words. A couple years ago that would have been all it took to get him to down the liquor before him. Marty didn't care much now--it just irritated him that the captain would think that insult made him do it.
"You better not dare hurt Jennifer," he said to the captain, narrowing his eyes.
Juan smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Worry not of such things, señor . She will be fine, so long as you drink."
Yeah--for now, Marty thought. But what will it be next?
Marty reached reluctantly for the glass, looking at the brownish liquid inside. He shifted his eyes away from the liquid to the crew again. They all stared at him, somewhat impatiently. Marty sighed. Then, before he could lose his nerve, he put the glass to his lips and poured the drink down his throat.
It burned as it went down! Marty coughed, nearly dropping the glass as he tried to get his breath back. The pirates all laughed, as if it was the funniest thing they'd ever seen.
"Haven't had much liquor now, 'ave you?" Juan asked, patting Marty on the back a little too hard. Marty shuddered inwardly at the man's touch.
"None like that!" he gasped, honest.
"That there is real drink," Poncho said. "They do not call it the black death for nothin'."
"Is that enough?" Marty asked. "Can I go now?"
Juan shook his head, planting a firm hand on his shoulder. "No. Take another. I will allow you to go when you are ready."
I'm ready now, thanks, Marty thought. Unfortunately, he couldn't do anything but watch helplessly as Poncho poured him another shot of the strong drink.
Jennifer followed Kaylie McClain down the dark, narrow hall, away from her prison. The girl had turned up some clothes for her, as promised, and a large hat as well. It took Jennifer only a few minutes to exchange the dress for the shirt, vest, and breaches. She took off her future shoes, deciding to go barefoot instead of wearing boots, partially for additional silence and partially because the only boots Kaylie had turned up were a few sizes to big for her feet. Then, once Jennifer tied her hair back and put the hat on, her costume was complete.
As she looked herself over, Jennifer still thought she looked pretty feminine. But Kaylie proclaimed her easily able to pass as one of the male crew members. In a time before women commonly wore slacks and it was typical for men to have long hair, Jennifer figured Kaylie was right. As long as she stayed in the shadows and spoke as little as possible, Jennifer thought she would be okay.
"Tis important t'be quiet, now," Kaylie whispered, as they approached the galley where all the pirates were gathered. Jennifer could hear loud conversation and laughter coming from the room.
"Are we going in there?" Jennifer whispered. Kaylie shook her head, the gesture hardly visible in the dark hallway.
"No. There be a better place to view, but not be seen. Follow me."
Jennifer did what the teenager asked. Kaylie led her past the galley door, then knelt down a few paces away from the galley. As Jennifer stood back and watched, Kaylie pulled up a trap door.
"Tis dark, so travel with caution," she said, stepping into the dark hole. Jennifer followed without a word, being careful to replace the door as she descended. There were only a few rungs of a ladder to be dealt with before Jennifer's feet touched planks again. She walked forward, arms stretched before her, bumping into Kaylie a moment later.
"We go up now," Kaylie said. "Carefully."
There were more ladder rungs, than another trap door. Once that was in place, Jennifer realized she was in a long narrow room, perhaps only two feet wide. And, though she knew it had to be windowless, she could see very very faintly. Light came from a few knotholes in the wall to her left.
"Place the eyes to the holes," Kaylie murmured, doing just that. Jennifer followed her example and gasped softly--she was looking into the galley!
"Amazing," she muttered. "How did you know about this?"
"I've my ways," Kaylie replied, her voice soft. "How did you believe I've not been found yet on the ship? I am wise to the places one may conceal herself--mayhap wiser than the captain himself."
Jennifer was impressed, to say the least. She turned her attention back to the action in the galley, straining her ears to catch the conversation. As noisy as it was in the room, she didn't have to work too hard. Once voice, in fact, caught her ear almost immediately. Jennifer's eyes found the source of that voice a second later. "Marty!" she exclaimed softly.
Marty sat at the head of the long table in the galley, leaning forward, elbows on the table. He wore a funny expression on his face, his mouth stretched in an unusually wide smile. Jennifer leaned as close as she could get to the wall, until her nose was touching, trying to get a better look at her boyfriend. She squinted, trying to see his face better. Marty suddenly laughed loudly at something someone said, pounding the table with a fist, rattling all the glasses and bottles on it. Jennifer's mouth twisted down in disgust.
"He's drunk," she murmured.
Kaylie didn't appear the least bit surprised by the statement. "Ain't t' be unexpected," the Irish teen whispered to Jennifer. "I seem to be rememberin' Juan once mentionin' how he tested his new crew by gettin' them drunk. Let him see their tolerance for rum, as well as checkin' to see how they would act in the drink. If they would tell any things they shan't be sayin'."
It made sense in a weird way, Jennifer realized. "Still," she muttered. "That's so stupid. I can't believe Marty would do such a thing!"
"Your friend hadn't a choice, Jennifer," Kaylie said softly. "Juan's not known for takin' no as an answer."
The news wasn't altogether unexpected; nevertheless, Jennifer felt a brief chill run down her spine at the words. She swallowed hard and tried not to think about the vulnerable position she herself was in on this ship.
"We have to get him out of there," Jennifer murmured, changing the subject. "Before he says anything he shouldn't and before those jerks kill him or something!"
"Are you touched in the head?" Kaylie hissed. "They'll be seein' you!"
"It won't matter; I'm dressed like one of them," Jennifer explained. "Plus, they're all drunk in there. If we keep our heads down, we should be okay."
"'We'?" Kaylie echoed. "I do not recall offerin' my help to you. Tis much different then lettin' you out o' your room."
"Not really," Jennifer said. "Both are risky. Anyway, the pirates are all smashed in there. I doubt they'll realize who I am, let alone you."
"Smashed?" Kaylie repeated. "I'm not understanding what you be sayin'."
"They're all drunk," Jennifer corrected, wincing a little at her unconscious use of slang. She wondered for one second if that brief lapse was going to change history in any tremendous way--then pushed the very idea out of her mind. She had enough to worry about for right now--the future would have to wait.
Kaylie, meanwhile, still appeared reluctant to agree to Jennifer's plan. "If we're discovered, it could mean the death of you 'n me both. Juan's temper is hot when stoked."
"We won't be discovered," Jennifer insisted. She knelt down, running her hands around on the floorboards, trying to find the catch that would open the trapdoor. "They'll just think we're two more crew members."
Kaylie sighed heavily. "Lord hope you're right."
The only females on the pirate ship quickly escaped from the hidden space and returned to the hallway outside the galley. Despite what she said only minutes earlier, Jennifer felt distinctly nervous on what she was about to do. But she knew she had to go ahead with it; she would feel a hell of a lot worse if Marty ended up saying something he shouldn't to those pirates and was made to walk the plank.
Jennifer put an ear to the door and listened for a moment. If anything, it seemed even noisier inside than earlier. "Here goes nothing," she whispered, reaching up to stuff her ponytail under her hat and pull the hat down low over her forehead. "Are you ready, Kaylie?"
"Aye, I s'pose so," the girl agreed in a low voice.
Jennifer took a deep breath, then pushed open the door. She half-expected that everyone in the room would come to a halt, and all eyes would turn to her. Then Juan would recognize her and all hell would break lose.
Instead, as in many cases of furtive behavior, nothing happened. Oh, certainly, a couple people glanced her way, but they didn't pay Jennifer or Kaylie much heed. Jennifer kept her head low, staring at Juan on the other side of the room from under the brim of her hat.
Fortunately, the pirate was distracted by Marty.
Unfortunately, the pirate was distracted by Marty.
"Damn," Jennifer muttered under her breath. She carefully made her way through the room, staying close to the wall in an attempt to avoid the loud, obnoxious drunk pirates crowded in the center of the room. The less they bumped into her, the less she would be noticed. Kaylie, meanwhile, stayed close to the door, looking very uncomfortable.
Jennifer stopped a few feet from Marty, watching him and Juan, waiting for the pirate to leave. From all appearances, however, Jennifer would have a long wait.
"Take another, Marty," Juan said with a grin, whacking Marty hard on the back. Marty almost fell out of his chair from the blow. He didn't get mad, though; instead, he threw back his head and laughed.
"I dunno. How many have I got?" Marty asked Juan through his laughter.
"Not enough, matey," Juan answered. Jennifer had to wonder if the pirate captain was really drunk, now that she was closer to him. Unlike Marty's words, which were starting to run together, the pirate spoke clearly. The man also appeared much steadier on his feet then the majority of his crew members.
"Well, then, get me another!" Marty cried, pounding a fist on the table. The vibrations from the enthusiastic blow knocked over the small shot glass. It started to roll towards the edge of the table. Juan reached out and stopped it, setting it upright again, then reached for the jug nearby.
"Certainly," the pirate agreed, uncorking the jug and pouring a dark brown liquid into the glass. Marty snatched it up and quickly downed the shot. A shudder passed through his body as it went down, though Marty was smiling as he lowered the glass.
"Man, that stuff's like fire!" he exclaimed, dropping the glass to the table. It cracked in two as it hit the wooden surface. Marty chuckled at the destruction, but Juan's easygoing smile suddenly faded.
"Don't wanna get cut by glass," Marty said, pushing the chair back and suddenly standing up. He staggered a few steps, the chair falling backwards. Marty almost went with it. Jennifer's hand shot out, grabbing Marty's arm and pulling him back.
"Cap'n, I think he's gonna get sick," Jennifer said in the deepest voice she could manage, trying to imitate the crew's rough dialect.
"No I'm not, I feel great!" Marty cried, throwing his arms out. He nearly hit Juan de la Vega right in the face. The pirate caught his wrist with a grim smile.
"He's not ready to go quite yet, I think," Juan said.
Jennifer continued to hold onto Marty and keep her head down as she challenged Juan's opinion. "He's lookin' pretty green to me, Cap'n. You don't want him to make a mess in here, do you?"
Jennifer could feel Juan's gaze on her, examining her critically. "He's only had six drinks. I've not seen seafairing men grow sick until the ninth, at least," said the captain.
Jennifer sincerely hoped that Marty wouldn't remember what she was about to say--and if he did remember, he would be able to forgive her. "But, Cap'n, he's much smaller than the other men. Surely he can't hold his liquor as well as 'em either."
Juan chuckled, once. "Perhaps. But as long as he's standin', he's drinkin'."
Jennifer winced at what she was about to do, then let go of Marty's arm. Her boyfriend swayed heavily on his feet for a moment, the fell against Juan, grabbing onto his fancy vest. "Hey cap'n," Marty said, grinning up into the tanned face. Juan looked down at Marty clutching him, and a faint sneer twisted his mouth. Marty laughed in the captain's face. "Y'know, you look like one of those pirates in Pirates of the Caribbean at Disneyland! Kinda like the one that was chasin' all those women because none would have you!"
Jennifer winced again, this time from Marty's verbal slip about the future theme park. Well, at least we could write that off as the alcohol talking, she reflected.
Juan stepped back, pushing Marty off him. The teenager couldn't catch his balance and crashed to the floor, taking the jug of alcohol with him. The jug broke, pieces scattering across the floor with the rum. Marty watched the liquid spread across the floor, snickering the entire time.
Juan looked at Jennifer, still taking care to keep her head down and her face in the shadows. "Get 'im outta here," he growled, his eyes flashing dark promises.
Jennifer leaned over and pulled Marty to his feet. She couldn't believe how hard it was; he wasn't helping her efforts at all! He continued to laugh, as if this was the funniest thing in the world.
"Y'know, maybe bein' a pirate isn't half bad," Marty remarked as Jennifer pulled him towards the exit. "They get gold, freedom, women."
Jennifer couldn't let that last part go. She gave Marty a hard jab in the ribs with her elbow. He gasped in startled pain at the gesture. Jennifer was a little surprised, actually, that Marty hadn't yet realized who she was--but she dare not reveal herself to him now, not until they were out of this room and immediate danger.
"Where're we goin'?" Marty asked, the words almost indistinguishable from one another. Kaylie joined Jennifer a couple feet from the door, taking Marty's other arm and setting it across her shoulders. Jennifer adjusted her grip on her boyfriend, doing the same with his other arm, so that Marty was propped up between them.
"We're goin' out for some air," Jennifer muttered in a low voice as they cleared the doorway and left the room. Kaylie kicked the door shut at their back, then they headed for the deck as Marty continued to ask questions.
"Who are you guys? Where're you takin' me? Are you gonna make me walk the plank?"
"Hush, now," Kaylie said in a low voice. "You be safe with us."
Marty didn't want to leave it at that. "Why'd we leave when things were gettin' interesting?"
Jennifer tripped and nearly fell over as they reached the first stair to the deck above. "Marty," she said, not taking any pains to disguise her voice now, "shut up."
Marty stared at her as well as he could with six shots of liquor in his system. " Jennifer?! Whoa, what'd you do to yourself! I thought you were one of the guys in the crew."
"That was the idea," Jennifer muttered as they reached the deck. She took a deep breath of the cool sea air, glad to be out of the smelly, stale bowels below. The sun had set and stars were clearly, brilliantly visible above.
Now that they were up here, Jennifer didn't know quite what to do next. She headed for the middle of the ship, not wanting Marty to get near the railing. When they reached the main mast, she let him go, Kaylie following her example. Marty hit the deck hard.
"Hey, Jennifer, what'd I do to deserve that?" he moaned pitifully from the floor.
"Tonight or the last few days?" Jennifer muttered, rubbing her sore arms.
"What's going on?" a voice asked from behind. Jennifer spun around and saw Jules standing a couple feet away, watching them with great interest.
"Marty went and got drunk," Jennifer said bluntly. Jules stepped closer, staring more at Jennifer than at Marty.
"What are you doing out here?" he whispered, glancing quickly around. They appeared to be the only people on the deck. "And why are you dressed like that? And," Jules added, looking at Kaylie hovering nearby, "who is that with you?"
Jennifer raised her hand, trying to ward off the barrage of questions from the boy. "It's a long story. I'll tell you later."
Jules frowned faintly at the brush off. "You could at least tell me who your companion is."
"Fine," Jennifer sighed. "Jules, Marty, this is Kaylie. She's the one who helped me get out of the room downstairs."
Jules nodded towards the Irish teen. "Nice to meet you."
Kaylie returned the nod without a word. She looked at Jennifer. "Be these friends?"
"Oh yes," Jennifer assured her rescuer. "They're very good friends, don't worry."
Kaylie still looked a little concerned. "We best get out of here. Tis too visible a place to be."
"I think we have a little time," Jennifer said. "The crew is probably still getting drunk down there. And I would guess that no one's noticed me being gone yet, either."
"Still, I think it would be best to leave this deck," Kaylie insisted.
"That might be a good idea, Jennifer," Jules chimed in. "Verne isn't at the party, and if he spots you all, he might take it upon himself to raise alarm, believing it his duty."
Jennifer sighed. Having tasted freedom, she was in no way ready to go back yet. "But where do we go? Down below again?"
"We best return to your room," Kaylie said, nodding in agreement.
"What about Marty?" Jennifer asked, glancing down at her intoxicated boyfriend. He was lying flat on his back, staring up at the sky with a glassy-eyed gaze. "We can't leave him here, the way he is."
"Take him with you," Jules suggested.
Jennifer stifled a sigh, thinking how hard it was going to be to get him down to the room. "I don't know if that's a good idea..." she muttered.
"I don't believe you have many other alternatives," Jules said. "I'll assist you with the move, if you'd like."
Jennifer finally sighed and nodded, bending over and grabbing one of Marty's arms. Kaylie took the other and together, with Jules waiting on the outskirts, they lifted Marty to his feet. Jennifer groaned softly; he seemed even heavier than before. She managed to turn her head to look at him. Marty's eyes were half-closed, his head resting against Kaylie's shoulder. He was fading fast.
"We better hurry before he passes out," Jennifer said. "I'll be a lot harder to move him, then."
Their group started back for the trapdoor to the hold. About halfway there, Marty suddenly let out a loud belch. "Oh damn!" Jennifer hissed, knowing what was about to happen. "Watch out!"
A second after her warning, Marty bent over and threw up all over the deck before them. Jennifer turned away in disgust, trying to back away as much as she could without letting Marty go. If she let him go, he would almost certainly fall to the ground. Kaylie emitted her own sound of distaste, as Jules muttered from several feet away, "I am not cleaning that up!"
Marty sagged back in the girls' arms a couple minutes later, breathing hard, his eyes closed. Without a word, Kaylie and Jennifer pulled Marty and themselves away from the mess at their feet.
"How did you know he would do that?" Kaylie asked as they stopped for a minute to catch their breath.
"I was at a party last summer and one of my friends got really drunk," Jennifer said without thinking about the way her words would sound to someone from the past. "Anyway, she let out the same kind of sound right before she got sick, all over the rug!"
Kaylie gave her a slightly puzzled look, but nodded. "Well, this mess might complicate things a mite."
"Not really," Jules said. "No one will have to know who made it. It could easily be written off as someone being seasick or as a result from the drinking. But," he added again, "I am not cleaning it up!"
"Let's get him downstairs," Jennifer said. "He's getting heavier by the second!"
The job was just as hard as Jennifer thought it would be. She wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing that Marty appeared passed out as they brought him down the stairs and to the small room that was Jennifer's prison. Jules followed, the leather knapsack filled with their future things on his back, and in his hand a lantern that he'd gotten from the deck above. The door was unlocked, which, as Jennifer entered the room, she realized had been a careless error; anyone who had come to check on her would be immediately suspicious of that. Thankfully, it appeared that no one had, as the cabin was exactly as she had left it.
"Let's get him on the bed," she gasped out to Kaylie, who was breathing even harder than Jennifer from the exercise. The girl managed a nod in agreement, then the two of them lugged Marty's limp body over to the narrow bed. With Jules' help, the three of them managed to get Marty lifted in the bed.
"We should make sure he's on his side," Jennifer said suddenly, as the three of them caught their breath. They had left Marty on his back.
"Why be that?" Kaylie wanted to know.
"If he is on his back and vomits while unconscious, he'll choke," Jules said matter-of- factly.
"I've got to be leavin' now," Kaylie said, heading for the door. "I best not press me luck tonight. But I'll be payin' you a visit again, t'be sure."
"Be careful," Jennifer said, preoccupied. "And thank you so much for all your help tonight!"
Kaylie smiled tautly. "T'was interestin'." The girl disappeared into the hall without a sound.
"I'll stay," Jules offered.
"You don't have to," Jennifer said. "And won't that get you in trouble?"
Jules shrugged. "Martin is in here already. That will give the pirates pause, anyhow."
"That's true," Jennifer agreed. "I should probably get back into the dress, too." But first she had to do something else. Jennifer turned to the bed and rolled Marty onto his left side, so he was facing the middle off the room. As she moved him, Marty stirred and opened his eyes a crack.
"Jennifer," he mumbled thickly.
"Yes?" she said, a slight edge to her voice from all the stress that evening.
"I...I--I had a nightmare," he murmured, his voice fading, eyes sliding closed. "A nightmare...."
"That was no nightmare," Jennifer muttered. "That was reality."
Verne carefully unlocked the door to Jennifer's room, juggling a tray of breakfast in his other hand. Juan de la Vega had trusted him with this important job and Verne was determined not to disappoint the pirate captain. His stomach clenched in nervousness, though, as he twisted the knob and prepared to push the door open. Jennifer was one of his friends. Verne knew--knew--that she was going to want to get out of the room. And he knew--knew--he was going to have to say no--and that didn't make his job easy.
Brown, how do you get in these messes? he wondered, finally pushing the door open. At his first glimpse of the room's interior, Verne blinked, wondering if he was having some weird hallucination brought on by guilt. Jennifer was seated on the floor, her back against the wall. Jules--his brother!--was sitting across from her. Both turned their heads as the door opened, their eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Verne.
"What are you doing here?" Jules and Verne said in unison, staring at each other. "I'm here to give Jennifer her breakfast," Verne added, setting the tray on the floor and shutting the door. "The captain trusts me to do that."
Jules scowled. "You are such a kiss up, Verne."
"I am not!" Verne protested immediately. "You're just jealous because the captain likes me more than you! And that for once you're not the favorite Brown. Admit it, Mr. Perfect."
Jules' face flushed. He stood up, so that he could look Verne straight in the face. "No, you listen you little cretin. The pirates are just taking advantage of you. You are going to have a hard wake-up call soon when they finish getting all they desire from you."
Verne glared as hard as he could at his older brother. "You--"
"Stop it!" Jennifer demanded, on her feet and between the two boys before Verne even saw her coming. "This fighting is stupid and pointless!"
"No it's not," Verne muttered. "Anyway, you were mad at Marty when we came here."
"And we've worked out our differences," Jennifer said promptly. "I'm not asking or expecting that you and Jules do the same, but at least cool it with the fighting right now. Bickering is going to get you nowhere."
Verne didn't care if it got him anywhere; he just had to defend himself against Jules' accusations of disloyalty. "But Jennifer, I'm not the one startin' this! He is!" Verne added, pointing to Jules.
"Oh, that's such a load of manure, Verne," Jules shot back immediately, his hands on his hips. "I'm not the one who is--"
"Can it, guys!" Jennifer interrupted, her voice sharp. Jules clamped his mouth shut and Verne looked at Jennifer, startled by her tone. She stared down at them, frowning, looking more than a little mad. "We have a lot bigger problems than Verne helping the pirates out, and Verne, Jules has every right to say what he wants--but you don't have to react to it."
Verne scowled. "Says who, Jennifer? You're not Mom or Dad!"
Jennifer crossed her arms. "Low blow, Verne. Yes, I'm not Clara or Doc. But I am older than both you and your brother and I do have to listen to all your bickering."
"What do you care?" Verne muttered.
Jennifer looked at Jules, who was being silent. "Do you have anything to say about this?" she asked.
Jules shrugged. "I agree with your point that we have more pressing issues at hand. I will try my best to avoid arguing only if Verne agrees the same--and stops acting traitorous!"
Verne clenched his hands into fists. "I am not acting--"
His words were interrupted by a low moan nearby. Verne stopped talking immediately, almost jumping out of his skin from the noise. He thought the three of them were alone in the room. "What's that?" he whispered, looking at Jennifer.
Jennifer pushed her way past Verne. "It's just Marty."
"Marty's in here, too?" Verne asked. He followed Jennifer to the bed, where Marty indeed lay. The teen groaned again, the sound a little louder this time, opening his eyes slowly. "How'd he get in here?" Verne asked.
"Quiet," Jennifer said, brushing off the question. She looked at her boyfriend with a layer of concern on her face. "Marty?"
Marty stared up at her, his eyes bloodshot and his face strangely pale. Verne felt like he was missing something. "What happened?" he asked. "Is something wrong?" But both Jules and Jennifer ignored his question.
"Jennifer," Marty muttered, his voice cracking. "Oh my God, my head!" He clenched his eyes shut, rolling over to bury his face in the pillow with another moan.
Jennifer spoke softly as she asked, "How are you feeling?"
Marty's groans said it all. Jennifer sat down on the edge of the bed, laying a hand on his back. "Can I get you anything? Do you want any water? Any food?"
Marty shuddered at the mention of food, lifting his head up enough to look at Jennifer. "No food," he moaned.
"All right," Jennifer agreed. She changed the subject. "How much of last night do you remember?"
"I dunno, probably not enough." Marty's eyes suddenly widened jerking his head up. "Hey, how do you know about that?!"
Jennifer smiled crookedly. "I was there. Don't you remember? How else do you think you got back here in one piece."
Marty glanced around for the first time, then grimaced, letting his head fall back down. "Oh, God, I feel sick," he moaned, drawing his knees up to his stomach and huddling in a ball on his side.
Verne couldn't stand it anymore. "What's going on?" he cried.
Marty looked at him, irritated. "Verne, if you yell like that again, I swear to God I will leave you back here!" Then he buried his face back in the pillow, groaning.
Jennifer looked at Jules and Verne. "Guys, give him some air, okay? Jules, fill Verne in on what happened last night."
Jules frowned. "Are you sure that's the best idea, Jennifer? What if Verne decides to tell Juan de la Vega about it?"
Jennifer shifted her eyes to Verne. "What you hear stays in this room, got it?"
Verne nodded, too perplexed to agree otherwise. He followed Jules to the other side of the room. "What's the deal?" Verne asked.
"Last night the pirate and his crew got Martin intoxicated," Jules explained. "It was an initiation rite of sorts, I've gathered. Anyway, Jennifer helped get him back here."
Verne frowned, his mind immediately latching onto an odd detail. "Wait a minute--Jennifer was locked in here last night. How'd she get out?"
"That's classified information," Jules said. "And where were you last night? Patrolling around for el capitan ?"
Verne narrowed his eyes. "Stop it, Jules. Just leave me alone. If you're not gonna tell me anything more about last night, then why should I tell you about what I was doing?"
Jules shrugged. "Fine, be that way. But if it gets back to Marty, Jennifer, or myself that the captain has heard about Jennifer's brief escape, we will know precisely where the leak occurred."
Verne bristled at his brother's words. "Jerk," he muttered.
Jules examined him coolly. "Why don't you return to the captain, Verne. You don't have any further reasons for being in here, correct?"
"I can leave when I want, Jules," Verne shot back. "You're not the boss of me." He marched back over to the bed, where Jennifer was wiping Marty's forehead with a damp cloth.
"Can't someone make the boat stop rocking?" Marty groaned, oblivious to Verne's presence. "I'm so queasy...."
"Hardly," Jennifer said, though not without some sympathy in her voice. "We're in the middle of the ocean. Maybe you'd feel better if you got up and got some air on the deck."
"No," Marty insisted, lifting a hand. "No, I don't think I can make it. I can't hardly sit up."
Jennifer sighed and looked past Verne to Jules. "Do you have anything he could take, like that motion sickness medication?"
Jules' brow furrowed. "I don't think so. I don't even know if he could keep such medication down until it could take effect."
"What about something simple, like Pepto-Bismol?" Jennifer asked. "Anything like that?"
"Even Tylenol," Marty muttered.
"We have that," Jules said. "At least, I am fairly certain we do. But the question is, will it stay down long enough for it to help Martin?"
Marty pushed Jennifer's hand away, as she continued to dab at his face with the damp cloth. "I have to sit up."
"No," Jennifer said, immediately, shaking her head. "No, Marty, you look terrible."
"And I feel worse, but I still need to sit up," Marty repeated. Before Jennifer could further advise against that, Marty pushed himself up, until he was sitting. Beads of sweat popped out across his forehead and he winced. Jennifer reached out, perhaps to help him. Marty pushed her hand away. "No, Jen," he whispered.
Jennifer drew her hand back. "Marty--"
Marty cut her off with a hard look. How he managed the strength for that while looking like he was going to keel over any second amazed Verne. Marty swung his legs slowly over the side of the bed and sat there on the edge of it, his eyes closed, rubbing his forehead with one hand. Verne looked at Jennifer, perched on the edge of the bed next to Marty. She stared at her boyfriend, trying again to speak. "You should lie back down."
Marty held up a hand, not looking at her. "No, Jen," he murmured again. "I can't."
Heavy footsteps approached the door. "Someone's coming," Verne announced needlessly.
Jennifer hopped off the bed, running over to the door, then turned and looked back at Marty, Jules, and Verne. "What should we do?" she whispered.
Verne smiled. "No problem, I'll handle things. I'm like one of the crew now."
"Oh, that gives me such great comfort," Jules muttered.
Jennifer hurried back over to the bed. "Marty, lie down!" she hissed.
"No, Jen," Marty repeated in a low voice, his face a distinct shade of green. "I feel like I might--"
The door opened abruptly, revealing Captain Juan de la Vega. The pirate captain was frowning. "My sweet Jennifer, have you seen--" He stopped talking, noticing that Jennifer and Verne weren't the only ones in the room. Juan's eyes widened at the sight of Marty and Jules, then abruptly narrowed. He stepped into the room, shutting the door hard at his back. "What are you doing in here?" he demanded, pointing to Marty.
Marty stood up, swaying on his feet, grimacing. Jennifer rushed to his side to support him. She looked at the captain coolly. "Why don't you leave him alone?" she snapped. "Haven't you done enough damage to him already?"
Juan raised his eyebrows at the words. Then, a smile crossed his face as he drew closer to the couple. "My dear, whatever are you speaking of?"
Jennifer opened her mouth to reply, then shut it again, looking flustered. Verne understood in a second--if she told the captain what she knew, when she wasn't supposed to know it, Jennifer would get in trouble.
Jules broke the silence in the room. "I heard about the initiation rite that you put Martin through last night and told Jennifer."
Juan's smile faded. He favored Jules with a brief, cold, look. "And who was it that spoke of this, niño ?"
Jules shrugged. "Many. The news is all over the ship."
Juan frowned at Jules, irritated. Marty stepped forward, Jennifer helping to support him. "Captain," Marty mumbled, his voice sounding strained.
Juan's eyes shifted to Marty, his lips curling in a sneer. "What is it?"
Marty took another step forward. "I need to get on deck," he said, that same strange tone in his voice.
Juan peered down at Marty, the sneer morphing into a tight-lipped smile. "You are to stay here until I am finished with you," the pirate said.
Marty shook his head. "That's not a good idea," he whispered, his hand drifting up to his mouth. Jennifer caught what Marty wasn't saying.
"He's going to get sick!" she told Juan, staring into the captain's eyes unwaveringly. "Let him go!"
Juan continued to smile. "My dear, señorita , he can be sick in this room as well as he can on deck--and if he knows what is best for himself and yourself, then he will not do either."
Verne watched as Marty's face turned deeper and deeper shades of green. "But he can't help it, Captain," the boy blurted out without thinking about it. "He's gonna barf no matter what. You can't stop something like that," Verne added sagely, thinking back on the times he'd been sick himself.
Juan turned to Verne. "Verne, I believe Poncho had a special task for you. He is waiting in my cabin. Be a good lad and go to him now."
Verne felt that funny tugging in his gut again, as the pirates wanted him for one thing while his friends and family were for the opposite. He swallowed hard, torn between wanting to obey the captain and staying put where he was right now. He could feel everyone's eyes on him as the room waited for his answer, whatever it would be.
But before Verne could reach a decision, let alone vocalize one, Marty broke the silence with a groan. Then, before anyone could react, he leaned forward and threw up--right on Juan de la Vega's boots. Jennifer gasped; Jules chuckled softly; Verne made a face in disgust. The captain's face was utterly devoid of an expression. He watched poor Marty as he finished getting sick. The entire room was silent, the only sound Marty's labored breathing as he struggled to get his breath back.
"I'm sorry," he gasped out to Juan. "But--but I told you--"
Juan raised a hand in the air, drawing it back. For a moment, Verne was sure the pirate was going to strike Marty or Jennifer. The captain's eyes narrowed into burning slits. Then he seemed to get a hold of his feelings. A smile, albeit a cold, tight one, slid across his face. "Do not trouble yourself over the matter," the captain said to Marty, lowing his hand. "Go on deck, then, quickly."
Marty stumbled towards the door. Jennifer started to follow, but Juan grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back into the room, hard. She staggered back, nearly falling to the floor. "You are to stay here, chica!" he snapped.
Jennifer put her hands on her hips. "Why?" she protested. "It's not healthy for me in here, anymore," she added quickly. "That's a biohazard." She pointed to the mess on the floor, still dripping off Juan's boots.
Verne doubted the pirate captain even knew what a biohazard was, let alone cared. He looked down at the floor and his boots, a scowl of disgust replacing the taut smile. "Verne!" he barked. "Fetch someone from the deck to clean this up! And take Jules with you. I must speak to Jennifer alone."
Verne nodded. "Come on, Jules," he said to his brother. Jules remained standing where he was, though.
"I don't believe I want to leave quite yet," Jules said, staring at the captain.
Verne rolled his eyes at his brother's idiocy. "Come on , Jules!" he said again, reaching over to grab his brother's arm. Jules dodged the move last minute.
Juan's eyes moved to Jules. "You know, boy, if you continue to speak back to your captain, I'm afraid your friends may become hurt." He lowered his voice, leaning towards Jules. "You wouldn't want anything to befall Jennifer, would you?"
Jules didn't appear swayed by the words. "Any pirate captain that must persist in hiding behind a young woman is certainly a poor one," he remarked. "A captain who was really courageous and intelligent would be able to fight his own battles."
Juan's face flushed at the words, swiftly turning a dark shade of red. Verne made a grab for his brother's arm again, and this time was able to latch a firm grasp around it. "Let's go, Jules," Verne said softly, pulling him towards the door. He could practically feel Juan's eyes burning into him and Jules as they left.
"Why'd you say all that stuff!" Verne hissed as they moved through the dark corridor to the deck stairs. "You ticked him off real bad!"
"He deserved it," Jules said briskly. "I have no regrets on my words. They were all true."
"What would Dad and Mom say about that?" Verne asked. "You're screwing up history, probably!"
"They would probably have as much to say on the subject as they would about you and the activities you've participated in since our arrival," Jules shot back. "Don't be a hypocrite, Verne!"
Verne felt his cheeks flush at that. "Yeah, well, if they do something to Jennifer, you're gonna be the one to blame!"
Marty was in agony.
He leaned over the ship's railing, clenching his hands tightly around the damp wood. His head ached something wicked, matched only by the nausea twisting his stomach. Marty groaned softly, closing his eyes and wishing he could somehow leave his body for the next day or so. What the hell did those pirates give me last night?! he wondered, remembering that much at least. Everything else that had happened after he'd started drinking the brew was a blur. And, at least right now, trying to see past that blur made Marty's head ache worse.
The ship hit a large wave, the motion proving too much for his already irritated stomach. Whether it was from seasickness or a nasty hangover--and Marty bet it was the latter of the two-- he threw up again, over the railing. He wasn't sick long; it was mostly the dry heaves, which Marty thought was just as bad, if not worse. When it had passed, he let his head fall into his hands, his eyes closed, standing motionless at the railing.
Marty had been like that for perhaps only a few minutes before he became aware of footsteps approaching him from behind. "Marty?" he heard Verne ask, tentatively. "How are you doing?"
There weren't words created that were fit to describe how badly he felt. "How do you think?" he mumbled, without raising his head or opening his eyes.
"Is there anything we could do to help you in any way?" Jules asked softly, also there.
"Not really," Marty said. He finally lifted his head up and opened his eyes, shielding them from the sun's glare with one hand. The rays from the sun were like tiny needles of pain to his eyes. "Where's Jennifer?" he asked, realizing that the two boys were alone.
"Juan made her stay behind," Verne said. "Remember?"
At the mention of the pirate captain, Marty grimaced. He couldn't believe what he had accidentally done to him--and his boots. Remembering that made Marty feel sick all over again, and not because he'd gotten drunk the night before. What if that bastard does something to Jennifer now? he wondered. If his girlfriend ended up getting hurt from his stupid accident, he'd never forgive himself!
"Not really," he said in answer to Verne's question. "Is she still down there with him now?"
"Quite likely," Jules said. He looked at his brother. "Didn't your captain give you a job to do up here?"
"Oh yeah," Verne said, oblivious to his brother's faint sarcastic tone. He scampered off to take care of the captain's errands. Jules stepped up to the railing beside Marty.
"How much of last night do you remember?" he asked.
Marty shrugged, leaning on the railing again and burying his face back in his hands.
"Do you want to hear what I witnessed?" Jules asked.
"Fine," Marty said flatly, not really caring one way or the other.
Jules started to talk. "I was on the decks last night when Jennifer and another young woman around your age came up here with you. You were pretty well out of it. In fact, Jennifer and the other young woman were nearly carrying you. After a few moments of conversation, they decided the best course of action would be to bring you down to Jennifer's room. As they brought you towards the stairs, you vomited on the deck. Do you remember that?"
Marty made a face at Jules' words, though he honestly had no memory of that. "No."
"Well, anyway, Jennifer and the young woman--Kaylie, was her name--brought you to the room downstairs and set you on the bed. Kaylie then left, and Jennifer exchanged her pirate crew clothes for her dress. Then the two of us spent an uncomfortable the night on the floor. A few hours after we rose, Verne came to the room. A few minutes after that, you woke up."
"Do you know what I did before you saw me with Jennifer?" Marty asked after a moment of silence.
"No. You would have to ask Jennifer of that."
Perfect, Marty thought. He lifted his head up again, wishing that the sun wasn't as bright as it was. Verne joined them again a minute later, breathless.
"Marty! Jules! Guess what!"
Marty winced at Verne's shrill, excited voice. The pitch it was made his head feel as if it would crack open. "What is it?" he muttered, irritated.
Verne's eyes with glittering with excitement. "We're stopping at an island today!"
"Why is that so exciting?" Jules wanted to know. "That was likely inevitable."
"Because we're supposed to bury the treasure there!" Verne exclaimed, jumping up and down. "Isn't that the most awesome thing!"
"I'm just glad we'll be back on land again," Marty said, rubbing his forehead. "Jules, do you have that Tylenol on you? I think I could keep it down now."
"It's with Jennifer," Jules said. "You might have to wait a while to get it."
Marty sighed. "Great."
Verne's head swiveled between Marty and Jules. "Come on, guys, we're talkin' real buried treasure! Why aren't you more excited?"
"I feel like hell," Marty said bluntly.
"And I am not interested in your pirateering duties," Jules added.
Verne looked at his brother skeptically. "Oh, right, Jules." He lowered his voice, leaning close to his brother. "When we were in the future, you were all for the treasure!"
Jules wasn't moved by the words. "That was at home, Verne--and, thanks to you, we may never see it again!"
"Yeah we will," Verne scoffed. He looked at Marty. "When do we need to head back?"
Marty would have laughed at Verne's question if he wasn't feeling so sick. "Verne, you're outta your mind. We can't head back when we want to--we're stuck here! We were kidnapped for Godsakes! This isn't some little pleasure cruise." He winced at his throbbing head. "Do you think I would have drunk that poison last night if I had a choice?"
"Poison? I thought it was just alcohol," Verne remarked.
"Might as well have been poison," Marty muttered. He turned away from the ocean and sat down next to the railing, closing his eyes and leaning back against one of the railing posts.
"We can go anytime we want," Verne said. "Leave it to me. If I ask Juan to let us go, he'll do it."
"Sure, Verne, keep fibbing to yourself," Jules said sardonically. "Your captain has no intentions of letting us go." Jules lowered his voice as he continued. "Our best hope of traveling back to the DeLorean is to render an escape."
Verne snorted. "Now you're being stupid, Jules. How would we find out way back? We're in the middle of the ocean!"
Jules' silence was his only answer. Marty spoke up again, without opening his eyes. "Verne, if you think you can get the captain to let us go, try it."
"I will," Verne said firmly. "I think he's still down with Jennifer, though."
Marty opened his eyes at the sound of his girlfriend's name. His hands clenched into fists, thinking about that sleaze alone with his girl. "If that son of a bitch lays one hand on her, I swear to God I'll kill him!"
Jennifer stood at the opposite end of the room from Juan de la Vega, watching as one of the captain's crew members finished scrubbing the floor and Juan's boots. The captain stood silent, motionless, staring stoicly at the wall. Jennifer didn't know what to make of the captain, or the silence, but she wasn't going to be the one to break it.
Why doesn't he just leave me alone, she thought. Jennifer had spent the night on the floor and was sure she had been awake more than she had actually been asleep. She was exhausted and the last thing she felt like doing was pushing away Juan's affections.
"Thank you, Miguel," Juan finally said to the crew member kneeling on the floor. "That is good. You may go now."
"Yessir," Miguel said, standing up and hurrying from the room. He shut the door. Juan's eyes drifted over to Jennifer, still standing at the far end of the room. She was, in fact, as far as she could possibly be from the pirate without actually being out of the room.
Juan stared at her for a long moment. "Señorita ," he finally said, "I have reached a decision."
Jennifer simply stared at him. What does that mean? she wondered, not getting it. "What are you talking about?" she asked suspiciously, when Juan offered no more information.
Juan finally approached her. "I am talking about my first decision to sell you at an auction block after our current journey," he said.
Jennifer's eyes narrowed. "What do you plan to do now? Kill me?"
Juan chuckled, amused. Jennifer didn't join him in the laughter, completely serious with her query. "No, no, my dear chica . Nothing that...unpleasureable."
"What is it, then?"
Juan stepped closer and closer until his face was mere inches from Jennifer's. She wrinkled her nose in both distaste at Juan's closeness and the fact the pirate smelled as if he hadn't bathed in months. "I will marry you, instead."
Jennifer's lips twitched as she fought to repress a laugh. You've got to be kidding me! she thought. But by the expression on the pirate captain's face, it was clear he was very serious. "Gee," she said. "What can I say?"
"Yes," Juan said, leaning forward, as if to kiss her. That was the last straw in Jennifer's opinion.
"No!" she cried, shoving the captain hard in the chest. Juan staggered back from the unexpected action, nearly falling to the floor. He managed to catch his balance by grabbing onto the bed. A look of cold anger came over his features.
"What do you mean by striking me?" he demanded.
Jennifer held her head up, hands on her hips, determined to not show intimidation from the pirate. "Leave me alone! I'm already spoken for. And, even if I wasn't dating Marty, there is no way I would date you--let alone marry you!"
Juan's eyes narrowed. Before Jennifer could even see it coming, the pirate captain slapped her hard across the face. Unprepared for the blow, Jennifer stumbled back and fell against the wall, her cheek throbbing in pain. Involuntary tears rushed to her eyes and Jennifer angrily fought them back, determined not to give Juan the satisfaction of seeing that !
"How dare you say such things to me!" Juan hissed. He leaned forward, putting his face right in hers. Jennifer shrank back as much as she could, the wall of the room pressed hard against her back. Juan grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her hard when his statement failed to invoke a response. "Answer me!"
"Be--because I don't like you!" Jennifer blurted out. "You kidnapped my friends and I and now you're holding me prisoner in here!"
Juan scowled. "You will marry me, chica . If you want to live to see the future, and you wish for your friends to live as well, you will wed me!"
"But I hate you!" Jennifer cried. "Why do you want to marry someone who hates you?"
"Marriage is not about love!" Juan said. "Surely you know that!" He let her go without warning, turning around and heading for the door. "I will be back later, my dear señorita , with plans for our wedding."
I can't wait, Jennifer thought, not answering the pirate aloud. She waited until he had left, slamming and locking the door behind him, then allowed herself to sink to the floor. Jennifer buried her face in her hands, clenching her eyes shut. It took every ounce of control she had to not start crying right then and there. Not so much from the pain of Juan's slap--and her cheek was still smarting from that--but from the hopelessness of the entire situation.
It'll take practically a miracle to get us out of here!
After a long moment, Jennifer lifted her head up. She touched the side of the mouth, which was aching, and drew her hand back. A small amount of blood stained the fingertips. Jennifer stared at the dark liquid for a long time, wondering if it was an omen of things to come.
They reached land in mid-afternoon.
Jules had watched from the railing side as the land grew from merely a dark shadow on the flat horizon, to a lush, green island with bindingly white sandy beaches. Anchor was dropped when the ship could grow no closer than half a mile off the coast of the island and three rowboats were sent out, allowing crew members access to the apparently deserted island. Jules was in one of the first to reach land, along with an unusually pale and quiet Marty.
"Land," Marty murmured to Jules as they approached the pristine beach. "I thought I'd never see it again!"
"It's a good day to find ourselves on land, isn't it?" Jules said, recalling Marty's bad bout with the hangover. He hadn't had anything to eat all day, yet was still forced to the railing with nasty dry heaves. Jules wished he hadn't left the backpack with Jennifer--not only because some of the medication in the first-aid kit would relieve some of Marty's symptoms, but because there was the possibility one of the pirates would discover the pack. And the objects that were in it would be best unseen by present-day eyes!
"Perhaps you'll feel better once we get off the water," Jules added to Marty.
"I'll feel better once we're back in Port Royal, not on some little deserted island God- knows-where," Marty muttered.
Poncho, perched at the bow of the boat, scowled at the two time travelers near the back of the rowboat. "You are not kept to sit and chatter," he said. "Row!"
Jules and Marty exchanged unenthusiastic looks, then picked up the ores and started rowing along with the rest of the two crew members on the small rowboat. Poncho claimed exemption from the task of "navigator," sitting at the front of the boat and watching the island approach them. Jules thought that was a bunch of hot, authoritative, air. The island was right there; it wasn't going to take a lot of effort to find it!
Rowing was hard work, especially in the still, humid air that had settled in. Jules wished desperately that there was some kind of breeze blowing--it felt as if they were in the middle of a sauna. And he thought it odd that the air was so still over the ocean. He wasn't quite sure if that was normal or not in the Caribbean, but the beaches Jules had visited before were usually quite windy.
Twenty minutes after leaving the ship, they reached the island. Poncho had them--and the others that were arriving at the island--drag the boats up the beach and unload them of the shovels, buckets, pickaxes, axes, ropes, and other miscellaneous tools. Then they waited for Juan de la Vega's arrival. It appeared the pirate captain wanted to have a word with his crew.
Verne arrived on the second rowboat, the one before Juan, and wasted little time in locating Jules and Marty, sprawled on the sand. "Isn't this neat!" he commented, grinning. "We're gonna bury a treasure!"
"You mean, we are going to bury a treasure," Jules corrected immediately. "I doubt that you will be put to much hard labor work."
Verne shrugged. "Still, it's exciting, right?"
"No," Marty said, laying back in the sand, an arm over his eyes. "I'd rather be at home now."
"You're the one who wanted to come with Jules an' I," Verne reminded him. "You didn't have to."
Marty sighed. "Don't remind me." He lifted his arm up, peering at Verne. "How is Jennifer doing?"
Verne suddenly looked highly uncomfortable. "Uh, she's fine," the boy said slowly.
Jules stared hard at his brother, catching the tone in his voice. Verne was lying, definitely. "No she is not, Verne. Now I suggest you spill what you know. I can tell that you are fibbing to us."
"Well, she is fine," Verne said, his eyes wide. "I swear. It's just..."
"What?" Marty demanded, sitting up. "What's wrong with Jennifer?!"
"This is top secret stuff, guys," Verne said in a low voice. "I dunno if I can tell you this. An' if Juan finds out--"
"Spill it, Verne," Jules said again. "I haven't much patience for you right now."
Verne squirmed where he sat, looking at Marty. "Juan plans to marry Jennifer in three days," he said softly.
Marty's pale face suddenly flushed with color. "He is--what?!"
Verne's voice grew softer as he repeated what he had said before. "Juan said he and Jennifer are getting married three days from now."
"The hell they are!" Marty exclaimed, leaping to his feet. Jules grabbed ahold of the leg of his breeches before he could run off and do anything rash.
"Martin, stay calm and sit down!" Jules hissed. "It will do neither you, nor Jennifer, nor Verne and I any good if you go after Juan de la Vega!"
Marty's hands curled into fists, his jaw tightening. "That--that bastard is not marrying my girl!" he spat out through clenched teeth. "I'm gonna kill him, I swear to God--"
"Marty," Verne pleaded, "sit down. You don't want Juan to know you know, an' that I told you! He could kill me!"
And quite literally, too, Jules thought. Marty remained on his feet, his eyes narrowed in a potent glare out to sea, at the pirate ship tethered off the beach.
"Sit down, Martin!" Jules repeated softly. "There is nothing to be gained if you rush over to Juan and attack him."
"Oh yeah?" Marty muttered. "At least then he'd be outta our hair!"
"Dad would be pretty upset," Verne remarked. "I think that's somethin' like his number one time travel rule--don't kill anyone or anything."
Marty blinked, the mention of Doc Brown finally seeming to penetrate through his rage. After a long moment, still glaring out to sea, Marty finally sat back down, his posture rigidly straight. "All right," he hissed. "Fine--but Jennifer is not marrying that asshole, and if he's hurting her--"
"We'll make him pay, fine," Verne interrupted. Marty shifted his eyes away from the sea to favor Verne with a cool look. Jules decided to change the subject.
"Verne, have you spoken to the captain about releasing us?"
Verne looked uncomfortable with the question, just has he had with Marty's query about Jennifer. Jules got a terrible feeling in his stomach with that expression on his brother's face. "Not--really," he said haltingly. "I did start to kinda bring it up, but Juan wasn't in a good mood an' I figured it was a bad time to ask for a favor, y'know?"
"I get the idea that there are few times that Juan is in a good mood," Jules muttered. "Verne, ask him next time you're with him."
"He's been in good moods before," Verne insisted. "I'll just have to wait until he's on one again."
"That looks like it might be a while," Marty growled, glaring at the pirate captain in question as he disembarked his rowboat and walked up the beach to meet his crew. Juan de la Vega wore a dark expression on his face, looking nearly as angry as Marty had when Verne had told him about Jennifer's impending marriage.
"Señors ," Juan barked when he reached his crew on the beach. "We have got a large project to do, and I expect every one of you to work hard and stay on task. If I am to discover you do not, then I will be most swift in my punishment." Juan paused, his eyes roaming the crowd on the sand. "Do I make myself clear?"
"Perfectly, you asshole," Marty said softly. Jules and Verne shot him sharp looks, but Juan didn't appear to have heard him.
Juan gestured to the pile of tools that had been unloaded from the rowboats. "All of you, pick up a tool and follow me." The captain started for the trees further inland.
Jules and Verne stood with the rest of the crew members. Marty didn't. "Marty, come on!" Verne hissed, as he made no move to get to his feet. "You don't want to get the captain mad at you. Not now . I mean," he went on as Marty merely stared at him, "you already puked on his boots today."
A ghost of a smile played across Marty's lips at that reminder. "He deserved it, too."
Verne started to look frustrated. "Marty , come on!" he moaned, grabbing the teen's arm and yanking him to his feet. Marty followed, though reluctantly. By the time the three time travelers reached the equipment, the rest of the crew members had picked something and were already following Juan into the tropical foliage.
"Perhaps it might be best if you chose a tool that you wouldn't be tempted to use as a weapon," Jules whispered to Marty as they approached the pile of equipment.
Marty smiled grimly. "Don't think I have much of a choice, Jules," he said, pointing to the heavy shovels and pick-axes left. "You could probably kill anyone with one of those if you hit 'em hard enough," he added softly.
Verne caught that and swiveled his head around sharply to look at Marty. "Don't even joke about that!" he said, his eyes wide.
Jules knew Marty wasn't serious--at least, he hoped--but couldn't resist adding to his brother's worry. "I don't know, Verne. Perhaps it would do us all good if Juan de la Vega met a sudden and tragic end."
Verne narrowed his eyes at his sibling. "Shut up, Jules."
Marty picked up a shovel, seeming to weigh it in his hands. "A couple hits in the head with this, and all we'd have to do is drag him over to the ocean and drop him in the water."
"A most unrealistic idea," Jules said, serious now. "We would likely be murdered by his crew immediately after the attack--not to mention the danger it could have on the space-time continuum."
Marty looked at Jules. "Man, you remind me of your father more and more every day."
Jules shrugged, not sure if it was a compliment or not. "I'm certain if Father was here, he would have objections to your revenge schemes."
"Yeah, well, Doc isn't here," Marty said. He looked towards the tethered ship. "And, anyway, I couldn't kill Juan--as much as I'm tempted to right now! It would create a nasty paradox," he added reluctantly.
Jules was curious about Marty's conviction on that matter. He hadn't known Marty as long as his father, but after growing up on occasional stories from Doc Brown about his "partner in time," and then actually forging his own friendship with the teen when Jules and his family had moved from 1896 to November of 1985, Jules knew that paradoxes were usually not Marty's first concern.
"What makes you say that?" he asked.
Marty's eyes remained on the pirate ship. "Remember last summer, when you guys and your mom were kidnapped by Doc B--the other version of your dad?"
Jules and Verne looked at each other. Jules felt sick at the very mention of the incident, and even Verne's face had gone quite pale underneath his sunburn. "Yes, we remember that," Jules said softly for the both of them.
"Well, anyway, on one of the stops, Doc B led us right to Juan de la Vega's ship. We spent a couple days on it, I think."
Verne's mouth fell open. "You met him before an' didn't tell us?"
"After, actually," Marty admitted. "See, he died shortly after we left. So it's in the future from now. And if he dies now--"
"--then we'll have a large paradox on our hands," Jules finished, catching on immediately.
"Yeah," Marty said, tightening his grip on the shovel handle, turning away from the ocean. "So the bastard can't die--not now, not from us. But screw the universe and the space-time continuum if he hurts Jennifer!"
"Marty, calm down," Verne said, picking up one of the large pick-axes. The weight of the tool nearly pulled him over. Jules snorted softly as his brother struggled with the pointed digging equipment, trying to lift it in the air.
"Verne!"
All three heads turned to the trees, where Poncho was standing with a scowl on his round face. "Bring your friends up here right now. El capitan needs your hands!"
"We gotta go!" Verne said to Jules and Marty. He started running towards Poncho, dragging the pick-axe in the sand behind him.
Jules looked at Marty. The teen had turned back to the ship. "You aren't thinking what I suspect you are."
Marty glanced towards the trees. Poncho had turned his back and looked to be moving into the foliage. Marty turned to Jules. "I could go back to the ship and free Jen now," he murmured.
"A poor idea," Jules said immediately. "I'm certain the captain left someone guarding the ship. And your presence would be missed here immediately."
Marty shrugged, as if he didn't care for the consequences. Before he could actually do anything, however, the choice was rendered a moot point. Poncho returned.
"You are not being kept to stand on the beach and do nothing!" the first mate yelled down to them. "If you are not over here in uno momento , then Juan shall hear of your behavior!"
Marty rolled his eyes. "Behavior?" he muttered. "We didn't do anything...."
"That's probably the point," Jules murmured back. He picked up a shovel--considerably lighter than one of the pick-axes--then started up the hill with Marty.
Jennifer was dozing on her bed, trying desperately to escape--even temporarily--from the hell that had become her life, when she heard someone at her door. Jennifer opened her eyes with a start at the sound. The doorknob rattled.
"Leave me alone!" she yelled, anger suddenly coursing through her body at the bold captain's move. Jennifer sat up and threw her pillow as hard as she could at the door, to underscore her words. The doorknob stopped rattling after the blow from the pillow.
"Jennifer," a whispered voice called, muffled through the wood.
Jennifer frowned. It wasn't the captain, that was for sure. She was nearly certain it wasn't one of the captain's cronies, either.
"Who's there?" she demanded, jumping off the bed.
"It is I, Kaylie," came the soft reply.
"Kaylie!" Jennifer cried. "What are you doing out now!" A glance towards the small porthole window showed her it was still daylight out--late afternoon, from the looks of it.
"The ship is near empty now," Kaylie answered. "The majority of the crew went to the island. I heard the cap'n talkin' of buryin' wealth."
This was news to Jennifer. "Really?" she asked. "Can you let me out?"
A long, long pause, during which Jennifer heard the doorknob rattle around some more. "I cannot free the door," Kaylie said a moment later. "Someone has added a padlock to it."
Jennifer cursed softly under her breath. She had quite a good idea on who that "someone" was. "Isn't there another way you can get in here, or get me out?"
"I know not," Kaylie answered. "But I will be tryin' me best."
"Hurry," Jennifer urged. "If I can get out of here before the pirates return, then maybe we can escape from this ship."
"What of your friends?" Kaylie asked. "They were shipped to the island, as well."
Jennifer bit her lower lip. She couldn't leave without the others, there was no way. "Damn," she said softly. "So you think that escaping now would be a bad idea?"
"It's up to you, miss," Kaylie replied through the wood. "But right now, I don't be seein' a way to get you outta the room, lest I can find the key to the lock. And Juan is one to wear his keys 'round his neck."
Jennifer sighed deeply, closing her eyes for a moment in disappointment. "It can't be a dead end," she groaned.
"I know of your despair with the matter," Kaylie said through the door. "I've heard the talk of a marriage soon."
Jennifer swallowed hard at that reminder. "That's one huge reason why I've got to get out of here!"
"I'll try me best to help you with that, but I can't be promisin' anything," Kaylie said. Jennifer heard her gasp, suddenly. "Someone be comin'!" she hissed. Jennifer heard the very faint sound of Kaylie's footsteps as the girl scurried away to a hiding place.
Jennifer backed away from the door, eyeing it uneasily, half expecting a pirate to throw it open. She was not disappointed, as a moment later the door was unlocked and the young man Jennifer had met a couple days before walked in. André, the cabin boy, carrying a food tray.
"Hello, señorita," he said softly, setting the tray down on the bed. André looked at Jennifer with obvious unease. Jennifer wondered if it had anything to do with her behavior earlier, the first time she'd met him, when she tried escaping.
" El capitan wanted you to 'ave your dinner," André said.
"And where is your el capitan ?" Jennifer asked with a great, sarcastic, emphasis on Juan's title. "Robbing another ship? Shanghaiing more helpless people?"
André blinked at her, not saying a word to rebuke her comments. "Eat, por favor," the cabin boy said instead.
Jennifer stared at him with her best "you gotta be kidding me" look. "I don't know why you are so concerned with my dietary habits," Jennifer said. "Why should you care?"
"The captain cares, so we all do," André replied. He quickly left the room, looking it up tight.
Jennifer looked at the food on the tray and curled her lip in disgust. It looked about as appealing as poison to her, even as starving as she was.
"Dammit, I don't deserve this," she muttered, thinking of the treatment she--and her friends--were receiving. Jennifer hadn't committed any crimes, unless one counted the crime of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Prisoners have better treatment than I'm getting! she fumed silently.
Kaylie returned to Jennifer's door about fifteen minutes later. "Jennifer, I've not yet found a way to give you your freedom," she whispered softly through the door.
Jennifer sighed. "I guess it's just as well. I can't leave here without Marty or the kids." She paused, an idea developing in the back of her mind. "Do you think there's any way you could get them and bring them back here? Before the rest of the crew returns?"
The answering silence was so long, Jennifer wondered if the Irish teen had slipped away again. Just when she was about to say something, Kaylie finally voiced a reply. "Mayhap," she murmured. "I'd need to give it a spell of thought. But if I could do such a thing, it would be best to do it in the night. Most the crew be settin' up camp on the island t'night."
"That's just fine," Jennifer said, nodding to herself. "It would be even better if we did it at night--that way no one would see us."
"If luck be with us," Kaylie agreed. "I'll be scoutin' 'round to see the best way to do this."
"Great!" Jennifer said sincerely. "And please, be careful !"