Paradise Cursed – Snippet 12
To Dayna, the passengers sunning on bright blue deck chairs and listening to Captain Cord relate the “excellent” shopping opportunities on Cayman appeared like any group on any boring tour. But they hadn’t heard the captain arguing with his first mate about devils and a Bokor and the Sarah Jane’s magic.
Polishing the ship’s brass and other bright-work brought Dayna close enough to pick up various conversations. Nothing interesting, until she spied Erin and Ola sitting together.
“Today will be our longest at sail,” the captain was saying. “We will anchor in the harbor at George Town, Grand Cayman, where you will find excellent dining plus martini bars, wine bars, ocean-front bars, and enough honest island music to spark a dance from even the most lead-footed amongst you.
Shuttles will be available the moment we land and will bring you back whenever you choose. Tomorrow…”
Dayna tuned out. Rubbing the brass rail in tiny circles, she had sidled close enough now to hear Ola.
“A gun! Girl, that was so bizarre.” The tiny bells at her ears and wrist tinkled as Ola gestured, laughing.
“Every shanghaied-sailor story I ever heard flashed through my mind,” Erin said. “Do other tall ships put on such a show?”
“Oh, sure, a show, but our cute captain could make his fortune on stage if he took a notion to give up sailing.”
Dayna wondered if showmanship was part of the job requirement. She wouldn’t like performing for a crowd. At home in her room, singing and dancing to her favorite tunes, okay, and teasing Erin about getting crazy with guys. She glanced down at her brazen t-shirt. She’d rather be bouncing over waves on a jet ski than jiggling on a dance floor.
“Cayman sailors,” the captain said, “have a very long seafaring tradition plying cargo vessels from London to the Caribbean. So it happened that during the peak of the sugar trade, the good Cayman women took over running the islands because their men were all at sea.”
“Your little sister kinda set you off last night,” Ola said. “I got enough kids and grands to know when feelings are stepped on, so it wasn’t that. But something your sister said got right up under your skin.”
Uh-oh. Dayna slowed her polishing rag to hear Erin’s answer.
“Ola! You were spying?”
“Hoo-eee, honey. Wasn’t no spying going on. You right there in the dining room, not ten feet away, everbody sittin’ around saw you jump up and storm out.”
Erin didn’t speak for a moment. When she did, her voice was softer. “You know how sisters are. I’m older, and we just don’t see things the same way.”
“Mmmmhmmm. I’m thinking you see things a lot deeper than most folks.” Ola handed something to Erin that Dayna couldn’t see. “Little sister tore right out after you, and left these on your table.”
The Tarot cards! Jeez, Erin was going to kill her now for sure.
“You know how to use those things, don’t you?” Ola said.
“They’re just cards,” Erin insisted, the same way she’d said it to Dayna last night. “Anybody can pick up a chart of meanings. They’re great fun at family gatherings, but that’s all.”
“Uhhh-huh. So much fun they make you turn white as a sheet and run away without dessert.”
Again, Erin didn’t say anything, but the captain was still spinning his Story Time yarn.
“Tomorrow, after one of Cookie’s hearty breakfasts, you’ll be on your own. The kitchen and bar will stay open, should you choose to remain aboard, but if you do you will miss the best diving and snorkeling to be found anywhere. If you’re bracing for adventure, Grand Cayman is it, surrounded by a wall that slopes off 2,000 feet deep in places. Less adventurous souls will enjoy the reef formations that stretch like coral fingers from the shore toward the deeper water. Easy, even for beginners. Expect tropical fish, turtles and stingrays to be your friendly swimming companions.”
“Listen, Chile.” Ola’s voice had also turned soft, and Dayna strained to hear. “I know a little somethin-somethin about spirits and visions. I saw little sister sucking face with that cute sailor who’s been serving us drinks all morning.”
“You saw—what?”
“No, now, it hasn’t happened yet. Maybe won’t happen atall, but they both yearning for it, which is why the vision come to me.”
“Dayna’s only sixteen!”
“And as sweet as a buttercup, but not too young for kissing. Put that aside, though. What I want to know is will you give me a reading?”
“I told you, I don’t—”
“I heard what you tole me. And I know what I know, so I’m askin you, please, would you give this ol’ lady a reading?”
“What about your visions? Don’t they tell you what you need to know?”
“They don’t show nothin about me, only about other folks. Mostly it’s like havin a mischievous sprite whisperin in your ear, sometimes truth, other times just nonsense.”
Erin didn’t answer, and Dayna saw Jase Graham looking her way, probably wondering if she was trying to rub a hole in the brass rail at that spot. The captain seemed to be wrapping up his patter.
“I predict we’ll be favored with smooth sailing today,” he said. “So grab a drink, a comfortable spot, and enjoy.”
The sounds of chairs and feet on the deck drowned out Erin’s response to Ola.
CHAPTER 10
In one way, my life is rather like a popular television series that surpasses the five-year goalpost then continues another ten years or so. Most of the cast has been replaced many times over, yet the main character keeps showing up week after week, a little heavier, a little grayer. A few more lines around the eyes, more sag in the jowls.
In my case, the gray hair is courtesy of Clairol Streaks N Tips, the jowls to professional makeup. Remaining thirty-four while your friends age normally requires a bit of smoke-and-mirror work. I stole the makeup case off a New Orleans stage actor in 1875, the same year Louisiana’s governor signed the “Mardi Gras Act,” making Fat Tuesday a legal holiday. That also was the year I discovered the true limits of my prison.
Leaving the Sarah Jane for more than a day and night would weaken me to the point of dying, this fact had already drilled itself painfully into my knowledge bank. Not that I might actually die, no matter how long I remain ashore or how long without food and water. Dying is not allowed. I may only wish I were dead.
After 160 years sailing the same waters, I once took in mind to venture up the North American coast. The Sarah Jane‘s stern scarcely had cleared the Bahamas Islands when a tornado snatched us up and set us back down heading the other direction. Not a true tornado, of course. I’ve not discovered what force this curse of mine sets in motion to keep me within the Caribbean and the Gulf waters, but the bloody fiend never sleeps. I’ve tried many times since, once sailing north, the next time south, and the same dervish plunks me back where I started.
One might imagine boredom would take hold when living extends two-hundred-plus years past an ordinary lifetime, and one would be right. My life can be as tedious as watching endless reruns of a television series. But there also are moments when I feel intensely alive. Pitting wits against whatever horror sullies my ship is certain to quicken my blood.
While the sun settled now on the far western horizon, we dropped anchor and passengers queued up for the launch ride ashore. Graham and any other mates up for shore duty would go along.
Having agreed to transport Ayanna to meet with her Shaman, I stood watching the mass departure and admiring the evening harbor when a somewhat strange feeling came over me. There is a moment during a strong tide when the sea sweeps away from shore as it builds for a massive wave. That sweeping-away business forms a vacuum of sorts, as if the sea is taking in a deep breath. I felt peculiarly now as if I and the Sarah Jane were caught in such a moment, and what was building could be the largest wave ever.
My ship’s magic, if one might call it that, travels with me in some small measure anytime I go ashore. If I engage in a game of chance soon after leaving the ship, my luck is incredibly good for a short time. I’ve known it also to briefly enhance a shaman’s natural abilities. But it’s unpredictable. To satisfy my own curiosity, might I be putting Ayanna in danger.
For safety, I wondered if I should deposit her at the Shaman’s door and take a taxi into town. Before I could decide, Ayanna arrived. We loaded into the dory and were off.
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