10. A Sisterly Visit

“Anne? Anne?” Izzy’s voice spoke somewhere above me. 

 

My heart sprinted into overdrive as I tried to separate dream from reality. I leapt from the floor and rushed to the bars to get a look at the vision that was my sister in an era where she certainly didn’t belong. It was like looking at a collage made from old magazine pages with a photograph thrown in there that didn’t belong. That’s what I’d done. I’d cut her out of her time and sloppily pasted her into this nightmare.

 

She was in new clothes. It looked like some recreation of a riding habit. Where had she gotten that? If she didn’t belong here, why did she look so comfortable and peaceful? There had always been an energy about my sister, a hustle that I thought we shared. But where I was continually reaching, from my vantage in this prison cell I saw a woman who had a hold on that which was unattainable to me. I reached for her now, wanting to feel if she was actually here or if I was still dreaming.

 

The guard smashed my forearm with his cudgel, bringing my ire and focus sharply down upon him. After gasping from the pain I let loose on this turd. 

 

“Come closer, you little piece of shit, and I will show you where you can stick that! I will ram it up your ass so hard you’ll be shitting out your eyebrows.” I was pissed he’d gotten a hit on me. Izzy’s presence had eclipsed his, and I’d let my guard down. I shook the bars and dared him to come closer. “Get back here and try that again! You better hope you don’t pull the short straw again or I will be on your ass, scalping you! You tiny-brained, buck-toothed, pot-bellied—”

 

“Anne! Would you stop it and calm down?” Izzy ordered. Her voice was just as I remembered, not old and hate-filled. It was my sister. 

 

I refocused on her and took some calming breaths. I rubbed my arm. That had really hurt, and I was embarrassed to have been caught so unawares. I bit back the tears and just stayed focused on Izzy. 

 

“That was a bit much, Ross.” Izzy addressed the asshat pretending to guard her from me.

 

Ross? She knew the name of this cad? 

 

“You are going to open the door, yes? I can’t exactly check on her through the bars, can I?” I looked through the bars at the two of them, trying to discern exactly what this strange relationship dynamic was.

 

“Lady Isabelle, the lieutenant commander – ”

 

“The lieutenant commander ordered you to keep me safe and do what I asked.”

 

“Yes, my lady.” He approached the bars with his cudgel again, banging them and ordering me to step back against the far wall. This time I was ready. My hand flashed out and grabbed his slow, meaty arm and gripped it tight. I yanked him hard against the bars.

 

“What are you going to do now, chump?” I slammed him against the bars again and got a hold of his cudgel and wrenched it from his grasp. I could smell the fear on him. “I told you not to try this again, and here you are. Now bend over—”

 

“Anne! Would you please do as he asks?” Izzy asked, annoyed. She had the same tone in her voice as she did when she was cajoling me into minding my behavior for one of our mother’s dinner events so that I wouldn’t get grounded and we could go out partying over the weekend. 

 

I dropped him, threw the cudgel out my window into the rocks below, and stepped back against the far wall with my hands up. 

 

“Thank you,” she said to me, then turned to Ross. “Some privacy, please? We have a number of sensitive female matters to discuss.” I rolled my eyes as Ross unlocked the door and skittered away.

 

Izzy entered my cell, leaving the door open, and pulled the guards’ stool in to sit on. I mourned the hem of her getup; that was expensive wool, and she was dragging it through the muck. 

 

I hesitated as to what I should do. What I should do was run. I should run hard and fast and now. Izzy was on friendly enough terms with the guards that she might not be punished too severely. Whatever magic she’d used to get in here might just take her out of here as well. The image of her from my dream lingered in front of my eyes, a lurid afterimage superimposed over her body: similar clothing, twisted face.

 

“Are you alright? I’ve been sending you food, but I couldn’t get in before now. Here.” She took some packages from her basket and held them out. 

 

Again, I looked at the door. Run, Anne! I urged myself. But I couldn’t leave her. 

 

“Do you need any medical treatment?” she asked.

​

Run, Anne, run. 

 

“Anne?”

 

“Food?” Her words slowly penetrated my fevered brain. She’d been sending me food? Not Andrews? “You’ve been sending me food?” I couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed. I thought Andrews...I guess he finally heard my no. His absence sliced like a knife through my gut.

 

“Who else would feed you in prison?”

 

“No one.” I braced against the emptiness and tried to hold back the devastating loneliness with useless, sophomoric reasoning about how I’d chosen this.

 

“So, are you okay? I know you were involved with the explosion and everything. Did you get hurt?” she asked. 

 

I was incredulous. What next, asking about the weather? I ran my hands through my disheveled hair and tried to make sense of this visit.

 

“What are you doing here, Izzy?”

 

“Obviously, checking on your well-being. I know it’s been days, but I couldn't get in before now. I’m sorry.” Izzy glanced about the cell. The place was familiar to me, but I supposed it was an affront to her senses.

 

“Days.” I rubbed at the growing bruise on my arm, courtesy of her new friend. “Days.” She shows up here in new clothes, a ring on her finger. It had barely been a week. I had to put a stop to all of her misguided schemes. “Why do I hear that congratulations are in order? That you are taking a husband?”

 

“Well, yes. I’m getting married.” She blushed.

 

I slid down the wall and rubbed my temples. “Why would you do that?”

 

“Why do people usually get married? What a question.” She must be putting on a show for the guards right outside eavesdropping on us.

 

“Because they’re stupid and naive.” I know I certainly was the first time I got married. “Are you stupid and naive, Izzy?” 

 

She didn’t answer. I wouldn’t press her to reveal her plan when it might land her in here next to me. I’d work on getting it out of her when fewer ears were present. 

 

“I didn’t think so. Listen, I didn’t leave before now because I figured you’d be in danger. Now you’re here and it makes this easier.” I got up and moved closer so I could keep my voice low. “Be at the ship tonight. Wait till sunset and make your way over. We can be on the water and far away come sunup. We’ll head straight for home – or Portugal if you’d still like to go. I know I would.” She started to say something, but this was important. I had to get the instructions across. “We will probably have to resupply in the Azores, but we can definitely—”

 

“I said no, Anne,” she interrupted me.

 

“No what?” Did she have somewhere else to resupply? Because Arnoldo owed me a favor and I’d love to cash that in this summer.

 

“No, I’m not leaving,” she said. 

 

I glanced out the door towards all the ears just beyond.

 

“Leaving where?” I whispered. I had no idea what she was talking about.

 

“I’m not leaving the Somers Isles,” she said.

 

“The who?” I could not have heard that right. The useless nobility who bought the land only to trade and burn it to the ground called it that. Izzy shouldn’t be calling this place Somers Isles. She knew this island as Bermuda. My mind fractured between the 21st and the 17th century vernacular and made my head hurt.

 

“Here? This island? Later known as Bermuda? I’m staying.” She continued sitting like she was indeed staying put here.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I brushed her off. “Of course we’re leaving.” Izzy was not useless or nobility.

 

“No! I’m building a life here!” She got up and into my face. “I own a hotel, with a kitchen and everything. I sold your guns, Anne. I traded them for a vast quantity of land—”

 

“You did what?” I erupted. I was counting on those guns. I had a contract to fulfill with Charlie. Not to mention that most of that sale I was planning to gift to Andrews and Helene for the running of the estate. I would not leave those children wanting. 

 

I looked at my sister in fury. She had stolen a sale from me that I desperately needed. I straightened up and looked her squarely in the eyes with a dead calm. “Tell me you are lying, Izzy. I needed that money. I needed that gold.”

 

“What? You wanted to sell the guns, and clearly you weren’t in a position to do so. I got 200 acres, Anne! Two hundred! And bonuses—” 

 

Oh dear god, she was serious.

 

“You sold my cargo for dirt? Why not magic beans!” I hollered.

 

“Keep your voice down,” she said, but I was beyond.

 

“I killed for that cargo, and you’ve thrown it away! Do you have any idea what you’ve done!” My fingers itched. Any other person…any other person and I would have run them through for betraying me like this. I felt spayed, defanged. How was I supposed to address this?

 

“You are truly unbelievable. Regardless, I am not leaving yet.” She sat there letting her skirt grew roots.

 

“The fuck you aren’t.” I almost grabbed her bodice to bring her close and under control. “I will be on that boat tonight and I will be leaving and you will be right next to me. That’s a promise.” I was not spending another night here and neither was she.

 

“Oh, is it, now? Regardless of what I want, you’re just going to drag me away, again? Do I have that right?” She served it right back to me.

 

“What the fuck do you want, Izzy?” I grabbed her hand and ran my finger down the very thin scar I sliced into her when I’d made my vow to take her home.

 

“Have you been listening to anything I’ve said?” She wrenched her hand from my grasp.

 

“All I hear is that you threw my hard-won cargo to the winds and are planning on marrying a ghost. No, Izzy. I don’t understand. All I know is that tonight, within the hour even, you and I will be on our ship safe and free and going home!”

 

“Ross!” she yelled and backed out of the cell, slamming the door in my face. 

 

This Ross came running in and looked between me and Izzy. He left and returned a moment later with four other guards and manacles.

 

“Izzy,” I said breathlessly as they walked into the cell, “Izzy, call them off.” Take care of Ross first, then the one with a slight limp. “Izzy, where are you going?” One was young, probably had little fighting experience. “Izzy, where’s Gerta?” 

 

The guards launched on me on cue. I yelled and screamed for her to come back as I managed to throw at least two punches and a few kicks, taking one down. I thought I heard Izzy call something out, but the guards were on top of me and I was screaming my guts out with every insult known to me in every language known to me. I got my hands around Ross’s throat before one of them struck me hard and fast on the back of my head. Stars and sparks burst in my vision and I dropped.

 

****

 

Fish course fork. Meat course fork. Salad course fork. Charger. Dinner plate. Soup bowl. I nudged each piece as I named them, left to right. Salad course knife. Meat course knife. Fish course knife. Soup spoon. Seafood fork. My mother had ignored our algebra, didn’t care a lick about languages, but God save my sorry soul if I should get my forks mixed up. I grabbed the butter knife at the top of my setting and dug it into the tablecloth that cost more than my dress, playing with the edge so that an impression was made but no fibers were cut.

 

“Just sit still and stay quiet,” Izzy urged me and took the knife from me. She replaced it in its proper position and smiled at the various guests as they mingled near us. 

 

I plucked at the pale purple satin nonsense our mother had dressed me in and sulked back in my chair. 

 

“Come on, it’s not that bad.” She gestured to all the grand figures in the ballroom dancing to the strains of a string quartet.

 

“I hate this stuff.”

 

“I know. But if you can manage it, we can stay out late tomorrow night. So just sit still and don’t do anything. Come on, I want to have fun with you this weekend.” She reached out and held my hand to stop my fidgeting.

 

I really tried.

 

I mostly really tried.

 

Until this man wandered over to us. He was far too old to be talking to Izzy, and I tensed. Izzy kept her hand on mine, trying to keep me calm. I wanted this man gone. He was drunk and overreaching. Izzy politely refused his advances to “just have a dance,” “just have a drink,” “just enjoy a little conversation.” He called her “beautiful” and had the nerve to try and put a hand on her hair that she’d worked on all afternoon.

 

I’d had enough. I caught his arm before he could touch her and pinned the sleeve of his cheap blazer to the wall with the seafood course fork. I didn’t even draw blood, but everyone was in an uproar and I was grounded.

 

****

 

Chains clinked and clanked as I tried to raise my hand to my aching head. I groaned and sat up as the cell spun around me. Tight manacles chained me to the wall. I had maybe three feet of play at the maximum. When I reached back to the sore spot on my head, I felt dried blood. It was tender. The secondary measures of the Fountain hadn’t kicked in, so I couldn’t be too bad off, but I would do well to take care of myself until I could drink from my flask.

 

It was quiet in here. After a couple hours I realized why. I was chained up. There was no longer a need to check on me. I now had all the time in the world to escape. No one was watching, no one cared. I was able to reach some of my food stash and pull it close. Looked like I was in for a long wait. Either I’d be released or I’d be executed.

.

.

.

Had someone cleaned up in here?