Perfectly Timed Page 4

  I drink as much as I can before starting to wander again. I don’t want to stay in the forest when it gets dark, my encounter with the wolf was enough to warn me against doing that. I know I have to return to the huts, perhaps I can find another one where the woman isn’t as superstitious as Tabitha.

  I stroll back through the forest, the whole time wondering how long I will have to be in this time era. I don’t like it when I have to live off the land, I prefer being able to get my meals from a shop or home. Living off berries and water is not exactly appetizing.

  I always seem to stay somewhere I don’t want to be longer than in a place I actually enjoy. I bounce home to my own time now and then, I always wish I could stay there longer. But those visits are mostly short, giving me just a glimpse of what I’m missing. It teases me, that’s all it does.

  When I reach the edge of the forest, I stop. Tabitha and her daughter are not far away from me. They are weaving a basket from long grasses. It’s actually quite impressive to watch, the baskets look strong and maybe even water-tight. I could use a small one to carry some water from the stream. I watch her intently, trying to remember how she does it so I can do it myself. I’ve seen the grass in the field, I could pick some too.

  Or I could just wait until I leave and make sure to have a plastic bottle in my pocket for next time. That sounds like far less hard work. I can probably make it until then.

  I sit on the ground and watch anyway, not having a better plan. I like the way the woman speaks, she is constantly talking to her daughter. She obviously loves her very much, which is sweet. Now I can see her in the light, Tabitha isn’t very old. I wouldn’t think she was much older than myself – perhaps seventeen or eighteen? Definitely still a teenager, that’s for sure.

  I can’t imagine being married and having a child at that age, her whole life is still ahead of her. But, then again, out here where there is nothing else, she probably doesn’t have much of a future. It’s not like she’s going to have a gap year backpacking around Europe or anything. She’s probably happy and content with what she has.

  She’s certainly happier than me anyway. At least she is visible to all and has someone that loves her. I can’t believe I’m jealous of this girl, even though she lives in the dark ages. It’s a crazy thought.

  Out of nowhere, a wolf lunges at the pair. Tabitha and the child scream.

  “Run, Abigail, run,” Tabitha shouts. The little girl stands there, panicked and confused about what she has to do. “Get to the house! Hurry!”

  The words have barely escaped her lips when the wolf takes a bite out of Tabitha’s arm. She screams with the pain and flails around, trying to shake him off.

  I stand quickly as the girl starts running. She’s not fast, the wolf will have her for dessert. My eyes dart around, trying to see her husband. He needs to come to her rescue and do something to help her, he needs to get the wolf to leave his wife alone.

  But he is nowhere in sight. It’s just Tabitha and I—plus one hungry wolf.

  Chapter 4

  If Tabitha is killed by the wolf, her child will be motherless and her husband will be a widower. They wouldn’t survive without her. I know I have to do something to help, it’s either me or her. And at least I have a chance.

  “Wolf!” I yell as loudly as I can. It works, his snarling head snaps around in my direction.

  I start running, not really having a destination in mind. I just want the wolf to be far away from Tabitha to give her a chance to get to safety.

  I run as fast as my legs can take me. I just know the wolf is gaining ground on me, I don’t have to turn around to know that. I wait for the inevitable bite, the snapping at my body with his strong jaw. I briefly wonder where he would attack first? My legs to stop me moving? My back to paralyze me? Or perhaps my head to kill me instantly? I think I would rather it be left a surprise.

  I risk the few seconds of speed to glance over my shoulder. Not at the wolf, but at Tabitha. She’s running too, it’s a good sign. She reaches the child and swoops her up in her arms without slowing down. Within moments she will be inside her hut and safe from the predator. I’m relieved. At least now I only have to worry about my own mortality.

  I enter the forest, hoping the obstacles will slow down the wolf. If I was more athletic, I might try climbing a tree to evade my eventual capture. Wolves can’t climb, right? But, more likely, I would attempt it and then fall flat on my back where the wolf won’t even have to try anymore. I would be serving myself up for his lunch.

  My foot snaps on a tree root and I lose precious seconds more. The wolf is now so close I can practically feel his breath on my skin. I’m going to be eaten, I just know it.

  In my panic, I don’t see the moss covered log in front of me. I’ve lost the chance and momentum to jump over it. Instead, I smack straight into the hard side and fall to the ground.

  My knee is twisting with pain from its second injury in three days. I lie on the ground, my back to the log as I face the wolf. He’s won and he knows it. His prey is a sitting duck, his challenge is now gone.

  He growls, a low and throaty sound. He’s probably calling all his pack to come and feast on me. I wonder how many others will come? A dozen? How many wolves usually live in a pack? I hope it’s not too many to count.

  With one almighty lunge, the wolf makes his final attack. He’s ready to take out his prey. I put my arms up defensively, knowing it won’t really do any good but having to do it anyway. I close my eyes, waiting for the pain to start as his sharp teeth collide with my skin.

  But it doesn’t. In its place is the pulling, I’m being taken away and not a moment too soon. I feel myself leave the damp forest and am surrounding by the white blinding light. Never before have I felt so relieved to be bounced around in time.

  I open my eyes when I can feel solid ground beneath me again. Except it isn’t so solid, it’s moving. I quickly stand, just in case I need to run again quickly.

  All I can see is the ocean, I’m standing on the deck of a ship. It’s old, like the kind you would see in a nautical museum or in an old movie. With its wooden decks and canvas sails, it’s definitely nothing modern.

  The movement is nauseating, it’s a constant up and down as it sails through the waves below. I spin around, making sure I don’t lose my balance, but there is only water to be seen in every direction. The panic starts to choke me as I realize there is no land in sight anywhere. I’m stuck in the middle of the ocean.

  I know this is going to be challenging. Old ships were horrible, they were filled with the plague and horrible, smelly, sailors. Every history book said so. I think I would rather have taken my chances with the wolf, at least my death would be swift.

  Gripping the edge of the ship with one hand to keep my balance, I start walking around. I need to know what I’m dealing with. I need to find some food and somewhere I can rest. They’re basic needs and I’m not in dire need of either right now but I’ll feel better if I know I can have both when I do need it. It might help calm my nerves, my heart is still pounding from the attack.

  There is a door in the middle of the deck, it leads to a cabin of sorts. Or perhaps it’s just a vestibule to get below deck, I don’t know. I head for it anyway, trying to keep my legs from collapsing with the disorientation.

  As I go to step inside, I almost collide with a man as he exits. I have to jump aside to let him pass. He’s twice the size of me, his hulking frame shadows my own. But that’s not the worst part, the worst is his smell. It’s like he’s died and nobody has told him about it so he is just left to rot. I want to gag as it overcomes my senses.

  Fresh air, I need fresh air. I stumble back to the sides of the deck and face the ocean, gasping to refill my lungs again. If that is what all the men are like on this ship, perhaps I should just stay outside where I can breathe.

  As if to answer my question, spits of rain start tumbling down from above. I look up to find heavy dark clouds. My luck could not get any worse.

 
; And yet it still finds a way to. As I look at the clouds, the rain starting to soak my clothes, I see the ship’s flag. I’m not just on any ship, I’m on a pirate ship. The jolly roger grins evilly back at me, its crossed bones warning me to stay away. If only it was that easy.

  I run for the door again, summoning my courage and breathing through my mouth. I now need to dry off before I catch a cold, it’s the last thing I need right now.

  Inside the cabin is an office of sorts. I guess the captain charts his course here or something. It’s dry and doesn’t smell terrible so I sit down in the corner—hopefully where I won’t be found.

  The floor and walls feel damp, everything smells musty. The entire place really is disgusting. I wonder how long it has been since the ship has been in port? Or cleaned? By the looks of things, I’m sure it’s been a long time.

  Two men with long and thick beards enter the cabin and take a seat in the rickety wooden chairs. They look like they haven’t had a shower in weeks. Unless I get pulled away, that will probably be me, given enough time. The thought makes me cringe. Perhaps I can jump off the side of the ship and drown myself, it might be preferable.

  “The course has been set. The East India Traders are bound to cross our paths by morning. We’ll get them,” the one with the dark brown beard says. His beady eyes are alive with excitement, it is obviously something he is looking forward to.

  “I hear their hulls are swollen with loot.”

  “Which will all be ours.” They laugh together at the thought, revealing their yellowing and rotting teeth. Obviously personal hygiene isn’t big on their list of priorities. Which reminds me, I need to start keeping a toothbrush in my pocket at all times.

  “Gregor better keep a keen eye on things,” the one with the black beard says as he gets his breath back. He picks up a pipe and sets it alight to start smoking. In the already oppressive air, it only makes it a thousand times worse.

  “Gregor knows the consequences of stuffing this up.”

  “He better or I will throw him over the bow with nothing but a rock to help him swim.”

  I don’t know who Gregor is, but I feel sorry for him already. Whatever he has to do sounds important and he will pay for a bad job with his life. Talk about tough justice. I’m suddenly so happy they can’t see me or I would probably get a rock to cling to off the side of the deck too.

  “We might have to do it anyway,” Brown Beard continues. “He eats too much and complains even more. He’s not made for the high seas like us.”

  “Wait until after the attack, then we can do something about him.”

  “You’re going to kill him anyway?” I ask, before I can stop myself. I know they can’t hear me but it doesn’t mean I can’t have an opinion.

  “Did you hear something?” Black Beard asks, looking around. My eyes grow wide with panic, did he actually hear me? It’s impossible, nobody has heard me for years, perhaps he just caught some other noise.

  “It sounded like a girl.”

  They both stand to look around the cabin. I stand too, I need to get out of here. I have no idea how it could have happened, but they did hear me. I’m in danger staying here a moment longer.

  I walk cautiously to the door, ensuring I give them both a wide berth. As wide as possible in such a small cabin, anyway. I rush through a doorway that hopefully leads to an empty room. Just as I do, I run directly into another pirate. His wide and sturdy chest stops me dead in my tracks.

  I bounce off his torso and recover enough to go around him. Unfortunately, he has felt it too. The only difference is that he doesn’t know what just smacked into him.

  “What was that?” He rubs his chest underneath his scruffy beard and looks at the other men in shock. All three of them are now looking around the cabin for whatever is causing them such confusion.

  “It’s a ghost!” Brown Beard exclaims. I roll my eyes, three grown men that can scare someone to death and they are worried about a ghost?

  “The ship is possessed.”

  “It can’t be,” Black Beard replies. “It’s just the wind.”

  “It wasn’t the wind that hit me.”

  “A ghost can’t hit you.” Black Beard tries to reason with the two, growing more hysterical by the minute. “It’s all just your imagination.”

  “I know what I felt.” He continues to rub his chest. I know I didn’t hurt him so he couldn’t be rubbing away the pain.

  “It could be a stowaway,” Brown Beard offers. At hearing that proposition, the others immediately react.

  “A girl, we’ve got a stowaway girl,” Black Beard declares. “We have to find her. It’s bad luck having a woman aboard.”

  “The worst luck.”

  “Let’s get her and throw her over the side before she can curse us all.”

  I don’t want to stick around to hear anymore, I start moving quickly. The room off the cabin is like an antechamber, it just holds a set of thin stairs that presumably lead down into the hull. I know I’m going to regret it, but I start my descent anyway. I have a better chance of hiding down below than I do up top.

  The smell hits me before my eyes can adjust. I have to blink several times before I can even make out the outlines of anything. Pieces of material fashioned into hammocks are hung around the place while barrels and sacks fill the floor. Bodies lie wherever they can. I hope they’re just sleeping.

  I weave through the debris, trying not to touch anything. I don’t know if I will ever feel clean again. A large gray rat runs over my foot. I can’t stop the scream that escapes my lips. My hands shoot up to cover my mouth and try to recall it but it’s impossible. Some of the bodies sit up and look in my direction. Questions are murmured between them.

  I keep going, this time keeping one hand over my mouth. So much for keeping my location a secret. I’m certain they still can’t see me, but apparently now they can hear me. It’s just another thing to worry about.

  I reach the end of the gallery and the room grows very small. I sit between a barrel and a pile of sacks. I don’t think anyone can accidently stumble across me here, but I can’t let my guard down. If they are looking for a female stowaway, they might search all the small spaces too. Hopefully they’ll grow sick of searching and give up.

  I finally take away my hand, believing my screaming is over. I would cry if I could do it soundlessly, but I would probably start sobbing loudly if I started.

  Hours pass by, I know this only because my body starts aching from being in the same position. My knee is killing me. The floor is so hard under my butt and the constant swaying of the ship makes me nauseous. I just want it to stop, even if only for a moment. I wish my puppet master would take me away, shove me into some other time and space. Anywhere but here would be nice.

  In the dimness of the room, a slight figure emerges. He is almost upon me before I spot him. I watch him carefully, ensuring he doesn’t sit on me. He slides in backwards next to a barrel, the one I am sitting on the opposite side of. I can just catch a glimpse of him at the back.

  He’s young, way too young to be on a pirate ship. I would guess his age to be about thirteen, he looks a lot like one of my brothers. It instantly sends a pang through me, I do miss my annoying brothers. I would gladly let them tease me again if it meant I could see them.

  “Gregor.” The name keeps repeating around the room, sometimes closer than other times. Someone is looking for Gregor, searching high and low for him.

  The kid pulls his legs in, doing a superb job of hiding in between the barrels. I have to give it to him, he knows how to stay out of sight.

  It suddenly strikes me, he is probably Gregor. The same one the pirates upstairs were planning to kill so callously. No wonder he was hiding so well, he probably knew his life depended on it. But how long could he really stay here? He will eventually need food and water.

  Even when the ship docks in a port somewhere, he won’t be able to escape the hull without being seen by someone. There is probably a bounty on his head, the on
e who finds him will get a reward for their loyalty or something. The poor kid is doomed.

  Nobody deserves the kind of punishment the men were talking about. How could they kill a child like that? Where are his parents? I don’t understand how a kid can find himself on a pirate ship, but I guess it happens in this time. After all, I am seeing it with my own eyes, it has to have happened.

  I want to help him, for no other reason than he needs someone on his side. The pirates upstairs heard my voice, perhaps if I spoke to him, he would know I was here? Or perhaps he will be freaked out thinking I was a ghost again. I guess there is only one way to find out.

  “Gregor,” I whisper between the barrels. “You can’t see me but I want to help you.”

  His head shoots around, his eyes wide with surprise. He is looking for the source of the voice, unable to see anything in the dim light. Perhaps that could work for me.

  “Who’s there?” he says, so quietly I can barely hear him.

  “My name is Ella, I’m going to help you. Are you the Gregor they are searching for?”

  “I am. Where are you?”

  “I’m invisible, you can only hear me but I assure you I am a human being too.” What else can I say to assure him I’m not a ghost? Even if I could think straight, I won’t be able to come up with a better explanation. I don’t understand it, let along expect anyone else to.

  I must have panicked him, he looks around frantically as the fight or flight instinct kicks in.

  “Even if you think I’m a ghost, I’m still safer than revealing your hiding spot to those pirates,” I point out. At least a ghost can’t kill him. I don’t want him revealing both of our hiding places to the men, not when we are doing such a great job of it.

  “Are you a ghost?” he finally asks, letting my words sink in. He knows I’m right.

  “No, I’m not, but that’s not important. Do you have a plan to get away from them?”

  He looks down at the floor. “No, I don’t. I think they plan on making me walk the plank and sending me to Davy Jones’s locker.”