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4. The Eye of the Storm

I went to Captain Manheim's cabin, as he had instructed me. There I found him waiting by a small, dirty window behind his desk. His dark brown hair was ruffled; his coat was undone revealing a loose, linen undershirt and prominent tan line on his neck. (I found out through the next few days that he was merely a kind of supervisor and he did very little, if any, work on deck. Yet, he never had any trouble keeping the crew in check.) His arms fell to his sides as I entered and he pulled out his chair, motioning for me to take it. I quietly obeyed. I quickly undid the pouch in which I had kept the vials and bandages that Jim had left with me.

Manheim had nimble fingers and had no trouble in changing the bandages and applying the oils. I watched his face silently while he worked. I noticed that he was acting kind of strange. Each time one of his hands passed by my neck he hesitated and each time I thought I saw his eyes flash with some kind of emotion while his lips seemed tightened into a thin white line. The whole time he seemed determined not to make eye contact. As he was finishing the last bandage around my head, one hand slowly brushed down to the back of my neck.

I froze. His touch was cold against my new sunburn, but it was more than his frosty skin that made my blood ice over. His hand twitched as his thumb moved slowly around my throat. I gasped. He withdrew his hand.

His eyes met mine for a moment, and then he sat on his desk, arms folded over his chest.

What was that? I thought. Now that he had stepped away I felt as if a big weight had been taken off my stomach-a weight that had kept me from protesting in any way. I began to notice the feeling was present every time I was near Manheim. I stood up with a short 'thank you' and moved towards the door.

"Tell me, Miss Russel, where are your parents? They can not be aware that you are here." I turned to see a mocking frown pull at his features and the strange tension seem to lessen.

"They died. Two years ago." I said simply, wary of his intentions. He nodded slowly.

"So, no family to speak of. Do you have many friends?"

"I wouldn't exactly say 'many'."

"If you wanted to send word to any of them in case of an emergency, would you be able to? Do you know where they are or where they can be contacted?"

"No." I watched him closely but as far as I could tell he really was serious.

"And they do not know of your whereabouts?"

"I don't think so."

He nodded again, his brow furrowed in thought. His arms moved to the table and he pushed himself up.

"Well, Miss Russel, I must apologize. Your unexpected arrival has urged me to dock in the nearest port, but if you do not know how to contact your friends I am afraid I must find a place for you to reside for the time being. I have a place in mind that with your . . . personality should not cause any . . . undesirable events to occur. However, for the present, I am sorry to say you must endure the company of a pirate crew." He reached for my hand-which for some unknown reason, I gave and he held softly in his. "Could you perchance wait for a week to get to the intended destination?"

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" I said, eyeing our hands. He chuckled.

"Well, what I meant was could you possibly refrain from throwing yourself desperately overboard until then."

"Oh-um-yeah. I can wait."

"Thank you." Another smile slithered onto his face. "You must get some rest for I believe the crew may work you very hard while you're here. I look forward to seeing how events play out. Goodnight." He led me to the door which I opened myself and I went dazedly down to my room. The sensation that the weight had left behind still lingered as I walked into my room. It took me a few moments to realize that there was a new addition to the meager furnishings. Another bed was next to mine, only it wasn't empty.

"Wh-who's there?" I stood flat against the door, ready to escape. There was a rustle under the rough blanket. Jim's head rose from the flat pillow.

"You don't have to be so loud. It's only me." He squinted up at me.

"But why are you in here? Sleeping!?"

"Well, it's my room. I always sleep here."

"You didn't last night!" I whined.

"Manheim thought it would be better if you had some privacy, but I don't want to sleep on the deck again. It's much better in here." He covered his head and lay back down. I watched his form rise and fall with his slow steady breathing. I could see very clearly the width of his not-too-broad shoulders. I shook myself. Moving my bed as far away from him as I could, I tried to find a comfortable sitting position in the corner. Jim rolled over, revealing part of his bare chest as the blanket was pulled under him. I was taken back as he stared determinedly into my face.

"Have you ever been in love?" He asked.

"What?"

He laughed a sigh.

"I forgot. You're only a boy; you haven't had time for love in your adventures." He said jokingly. I slowly bowed my head, the memory of Alex forcing itself into my mind.

"I think I was . . . once," I said, smiling. "But it was probably just a silly crush."

"Crush?" Jim asked, perplexed.

"It's slang for puppy love."

"'Puppy love'?" He chuckled. I smiled at how stupid I probably sounded to him.

"It means young love-just a silly, childish affection instead of something serious."

"Ah," Jim smiled and nodded slowly. "So what did you like about this person?" I looked into his eyes with a bit of anguished shock. I didn't want to go into the subject, but his gray eyes were soft and totally oblivious to my hesitancy. "What attracted you to this person?" I made myself look away.

"Th-the personality, um, his-I mean, the eyes and, um, his-uh . . . her . . . hair; straight and short." My voice shook and stammered uncontrollably. This was definitely the weirdest conversation that I had ever had.

"Short hair!" He was smiling, eyebrows cocked. "I thought the long hair was in fashion? And curls?"

"Oh, well . . ." My eyes examined Jim's head. His hair was disheveled, coal black, and almost long enough to be tied back. It had a nice sheen in the moonlight that came from the small window. I shook myself, again. "Yeah, I guess. But those aren't the only reasons I was in . . . love." The word didn't feel right on my lips.

He smiled knowingly. He laid his head back on his hands, staring at the ceiling.

"I am in love-at least, I like to believe I am. Sandra. She's as beautiful as an angel. Her hazelnut hair always smells of spiced apples, and she wears it so fashionably. I was once fortunate enough to see it before she had it done up. I was up early one morning and she was trying to sneak something into my father's library. It was like a dream. And her eyes! Like flawlessly cut sapphires that shine with her sly wit. Her face is soft and pale just like her hands. She is so refined and elegant. Perfection, Russel. Perfection. How could you not love something so beautiful?" He sighed over and over, as if trying to relieve his passion for the woman named Sandra.

I watched him silently, feeling more depressed-and disgusted-with every word. Was that what every guy wanted in a girl? I might as well throw up the white flag right now! Alex was slipping farther and farther from me with every moment-not that he had far to slip, anyway.

"Manheim told me where we'll be docking in our home port. I'll be able to introduce you to her, Russel. You will never see another woman like her, even if you search the entire world."

"She sounds like a JC Penny's manikin." I mumbled gruffly.

"What?"

"She doesn't sound real to me. But then again, to each his own."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you can see what you want and I'll see what I want."

It was a while later before I heard Jim's slow breathing over the drumming in my chest.

*

A pounding headache came with the rising of the bright ocean sun. I found my nose to be almost completely healed. The swelling was gone and the pain was minimal. There would only be a small scar. The wound on my forehead would be a little more noticeable, though. I was able to remove all bandages without fear of infection. However, my feet were presenting to be a problem. When the water had dried in my sneakers it left behind a collection of slat that slowly chaffed my feet till they were raw and covered in blisters. Jim advised me to go bare foot for a few days and leave my "strange boots" as he called them, in my bag-it had somehow managed to stay on my back during the big sink-or-swim ordeal.

Barbosa noticed that I was not feeling up to much work and let me rest in the corner (with the warning that he would double the work the next day). After the crew had gone out to work the ship, he made a concoction for my headache.

"This'll clear it right up."

My nose tingled and my mouth went dry with the stench. I could almost see it bubbling.

"Are you sure this is safe?" I asked with a shiver. "I'm afraid it might eat me first." His look of annoyance at my doubt said all. The vertical slant I gave to the mug gave me no time to stop the drink from rushing down my throat. Within two seconds I was coughing and spitting out the remains in my mouth. Barbosa roared with laughter.

"Never thought you'd actually drink it!" He smacked my back and made me cough even more. I glared at him through watery eyes. "Not sayin' the drink don't work, just sayin' I didn't think a lady could take it!"

"Wh-what do you mean 'lady'?" I said, shocked.

"Listen, I may have a bad time seein', but that don't mean I'm blind! I know that no one else knows but the cap'in, too. Don't worry. Yer secret's safe with me. How's yer head?"

My head was as clear as ever.

"Much better. Thank you!"

"You'd betta get out there with the crew before they think yer slackin'." He gave me a push out the door.

The sun beat down like a hammer and my already tan skin grew a shade darker within minutes. I devoted myself to doing the tasks that Jim told me to do. They helped to pass the time and kept my mind off of the heat and other more depressing subjects. That morning when I was bringing the captain his breakfast he had sent me packing with an order to never come in to his office again. When I told Jim about it, he brushed it off.

"Don't trouble yourself. Short tempers run in his family. Though, I am surprised he yelled at you. The news he received from home must have been terribly upsetting."

For the exception of Jim and Barbosa, the whole crew seemed on edge. No one said a word to me but every where I looked I saw their eyes shooting resentful arrows. I started clinging almost desperately to Jim's side and following him through all his duties. He didn't object to the set up. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it. He told me that he disliked conversing with the rest of the crew, except the cook and even then he rarely spoke to him about anything other than food. Jim used my company as ample opportunity to fawn over "his" Lady Sandra. I tuned most of that part out, but after a while he found other subjects to discuss with me. He told me very little of his home, except Sandra of course, but wanted to know everything about mine. I told him what I could while trying to hide my gender and conveniently leaving out my twenty-first century origin. When he discovered that I held a fervent passion for Shakespeare and (to a lesser extent) philosophy, Jim was ecstatic. He immediately started questioning me on which works I liked best and he agreed or disagreed depending on his opinions. This started a whole new range of subjects and kept us occupied for days.

After the awkward night I spent in the corner of Jim's room, I began sleeping on deck. Thankfully, the weather stayed very clear and I was getting used to the heavy smell of warm salt water. I was surprised to find that I didn't get sea sick, since I had never been on a ship before. Captain Manheim continued to stay in his cabin without a word to anyone but Jim whom he often called for. When Jim came back from those short visits his mood had turned somber and didn't go away for some time. The mood of the ship was sinking visibly and it was dangerously apparent that a storm was coming.

*

On my sixth night aboard the ship I remained on deck without going to Jim's room to collect my bed spread. My head was swimming with so many thoughts of home and the present situation. The moon was full and lit all of my surroundings to where they looked lighted by an artificial bulb. A throbbing sensation went through my forehead and I stood leaning over the bow. The recent conversations with Jim brought me to recite one of Hamlet's self pitying soliloquies.

"To be, or not to be: that is the question . . . well, in my case it's more like: to jump or not to jump." I laughed humorlessly. I jumped at the sound of creaking wood. Crosse and Reed were slowly making their way to my side. I ground my teeth. They both stopped and exchanged glances.

"We's jus' wantin' to . . . apologize fo' da ways we acted to ya's." Crosse looked as if it were agonizing to let the words escape his lips. And Reed didn't seem too pleased to be there, either.

"Oh really? I thought you just wanted to apologize because you're afraid of what the captain would do if you went against his orders. We all saw how angry he was when you were beating me up."

" Tha' was na' us! Tha' was Yates!" said Reed, speaking for the first time. His voice was a small, pathetic whimper which signified why he rarely spoke. You could be beaten senseless for having a voice like that around here. I held in a snort.

"Oh, come on. I'm not stupid! Even if you didn't actually touch me you were rooting him from the sidelines just like everybody else. You're just two scared chickens trying to suck up to the O-so-frightening Captain Manheim. Yeah, I can see how sorry you are."

"Ya betta watch tha' loud mouth o' yer's o' someun's gonna have ta watch it fo' ya." Crosse stood menacingly close.

Don't be intimidated, Imari. It only encourages creeps like him. I stood my ground, meeting him eye for eye. Reed put a hand on his shoulder, drawing him back. With a parting grunt Crosse spat in my direction, barely missing my leg, and left to find his bed in the galley. Reed stopped for a moment and glanced back at me with an almost sad smile before rushing after his companion.

I abruptly realized that I was holding my breath. I gasped, sending my body into a shaking fit. The fear I should have felt finally caught up with me and my legs wobbled as I stumbled to Jim's room. He glanced up at me when I entered and smiled.

"I'm impressed, Russel. You stood your ground against two full grown men. Very commendable." He gave me a small applause. With a shaky laugh I plopped down on my folded bedspread.

"I'm not sure if 'full grown' can be used describe them," I said. "They hardly qualify as men with such scrawny bodies. But then with the lack of meat on their bones they hardly even qualify as being alive."

He laughed. His laugh was assuring-calming. I slumped in relief.

"I like your laugh," I blurted.

"Heh. Thank you, I suppose."

"I mean that I like how honest your laugh is. I can tell you're not pretending or hiding anything behind it. It's nice." I looked away, trying to hide my hot face. I could feel him watching me in the silence.

"Thank you, Russel."

"You can call me Imari. Actually, I'd prefer it if you would. Being called Russel makes me feel like a guy-" I coughed and continued quickly, "I mean using last names is too impersonal between friends and I'd like to think we're friends cause I mean, I like you and all-agh! Not in that other way, no because I'm a man and I-oh! Never mind!" I buried my head in my knees. Just shut up, Imari! You're only making things worse!

"Yes, I would also like to be able to call you my friend."

My shocked eyes met his soft, sober ones.

"In fact-and I hope you won't be offended by my saying this but I have come to feel that I have never had a better friend than you, Imari." He gave me an encouraging smile and I gave my widest grin in return.

"Thanks."

*

"Russel! Wake up!" Barbosa's rough voice was urgent and I furiously blinked away the sleepiness.

"What? What is it?" Everything was dark and blurry as the cook pulled me behind him to the galley. There was angry grumbling and all around me and the few lamps in the room lighted the thin faces of the crew.

"I need yer help with the food. I can't get it out fast enough." He placed me in front of a cutting board and a barrel of the strange dried food I had become accustomed to preparing lately.

"But the sun isn't even up yet! Why are we eating so early?" Pulling the dried chunks out of the barrel I began chopping them into small pieces.

"Didn't you see the sky last night? There's gonna be a storm today."

As soon as one of the crew was done eating they hurriedly left the galley to prepare the ship for the oncoming storm. When the hall was almost empty, I noticed who was left seated in the far corner. Crosse and Yates were sitting with a few of the other crew members who had done a poor job at hiding their disdain for me. Reed sat uncomfortably on the end, nervously looking over his shoulder as if expecting to see someone there. Their heads were dipped in closed conversation. I strained my ears to hear but only a few words mad it through.

"I'm sick o' it" ". . . in the way" ". . . Jim" ". . . an accident"

My heart beat faster. In the way? Did Jim do something? Was he in an accident? No. I know they don't like Jim. They wouldn't care if he was hurt, but what could they be talking about? Wait! An accident? If something were to happen during a storm it would automatically look like an accident. But why would they want to hurt Jim? They don't have a reason to hate him that bad, do they?

Their food was ready. I slowly walked it to their table, trying to hear more information before they left.

"I'm not gonna let 'im take what's ours anymore!" Yates growled. His head flew up at my approach and I could hear his teeth gritting. "What is it?" he snarled.

"Well, if you really don't want your food I'm sure I can find someone willing to eat your share." I said in a condescending voice. If they were planning to hurt Jim then they wouldn't receive any courtesy from me. Yates jumped to his feet but was held back by the two men on either side. I dropped the plates unceremoniously on the table and stalked away. When I came back with the second set of plates Reed caught my eyes with a look that I could never forget. He seemed he was yelling something at me through them. They bulged and twitched mercilessly sending a sick, panicky feeling into my stomach and constricting my throat. They pleaded and yelled but I couldn't hear the deaf words. Yates must have thought I stood there to long, because he glared at me and, realizing what kept me there, he kicked Reed under the table. Reed jumped and stared down at his food.

I quickly went back to eat my portion of the breakfast, which turned out to be a bad idea. The look that Reed had given me left my stomach twisting in knots. I told Barbosa that he could have the rest of mine and he gave me a grunt.

"Can't hold it in, can ya? Well, since yer done, take this to the cap'in." He pushed a full tray into my arms and started on my leftovers.

"But the captain told me-"

"I know what the cap'in told you," he broke in. "Jim said the cap'in asked for you to bring his breakfast this mornin'. Now hurry before he gets angry."

With trembling hands I swiftly weaved my way through the busy people on deck to Manheim's cabin and gave a timid knock.

"Enter," was the brisk reply. I stepped in and set the tray on the side table that I had used before and started to leave. "Stop." I stopped and silently wondered why I was always so ready to obey his every command, especially when I got that creepy weighted down feeling every time I was near him. He was slowly doing up the buttons on his dark blue, gold trimmed coat. He had a small smirk on his lips.

"I wonder why you are always in such a hurry to leave my presence, Miss Russel. Or may I call you Imari?" His smirk widened a bit, though he kept his head bent on his work.

"Um, yeah, I guess. It doesn't really matter." I said a bit confused. His words drawled as if he was purposefully trying to keep me longer in the room. He made a 'tch-tch' sound with his tongue and shook his head.

"No need to fib, Miss Russel. A little bird told me you prefer your friends to call you by your first name-" I cut him off by putting up my hand.

"You've been having Jim spy on me?" I asked angrily. He stood straight once his task was complete and sat at the table to begin his meal. His smile grew.

"Apparently you don't know Jim as well as I thought. No, Jim wouldn't do me such a service. But the loyalty of my crew runs thick elsewhere. Now, now, there's no need to be upset. After all this is my ship and those are my men."

"Well, if this is your ship and those are your men, then why aren't you out there helping your men prepare your ship?" I gruffly pointed my finger at the door. We could hear the men barking directions to each other as the ship started to rise on a swell.

"Does it distress you that I'm not ordering those buffoons around? I thought you would enjoy some civilized company for a change." That smile seemed glued to his lips and I wanted badly to rip it off.

"Jim has been wonderful com-ugh! That's not the point! You're the commander of this ship, aren't you?" He nodded. "Well then, you should be out there commanding so that everyone stays safe!"

"What makes you think I care for their safety?" He cocked an eyebrow. For a moment I couldn't reply. It was definitely not the answer I was expecting-but then I didn't know what to expect from him. The weight was pulling down on my stomach. I huffed out a sigh.

"You're just trying to back me into a corner! If that's all you're going to do, then I'm out of here."

"No, I did have a reason for sending for you." He continued his meal.

"Well, get on with it." I said irritably. He chuckled and persisted in eating the rest. Ugh! He certainly had a talent for aggravating me! The ship was rocking with more force now and the light from the sun was greatly dimmed by the black clouds. Thunder rumbled outside. A knock came from the door and it opened. Water splashed inside as Jim stepped in.

"Sir, would you have me take command?" He gave me a curious glance but said nothing. I remembered the conversation that had frightened me earlier.

"Jim, I need to speak to you!" I said urgently. A chair squeaked across the floor.

"No need, Jim. I'll be out in a moment. Now leave us." Manheim was patted his mouth with a handkerchief and Jim left with a quick nod. "Madam, I have decided to honor your request."

"What request?" I said with an exasperated sigh.

"I will direct my crew in the eye of a storm as you so vehemently pointed out was my duty as captain of this ship. But in return I must insist that you comply with a request of my own. I wish you to stay in this cabin until the storm has passed. It would not do to lose you now," he said as he moved towards the door. "Not when there's still so much entertainment to be got out of you." He laughed as he shut the door behind him. I shivered. The ship was starting to tip dangerously to one side. I stumbled to the widow at the end of the room to watch our doom overtake us. Sea water crashed menacingly against the panes and sharp, bright zigzags illuminated the dark sky. Voices rang high and low, mingling with the roar of the thunder. I wrung my hands for what felt like hours. My stomach flipped and twisted yet I kept down its contents with sheer willpower. After what seemed like ages I heard someone yell Jim's name.

Jim! I have to do something to help him! What if Yates tries to throw Jim overboard? No, don't jump to conclusions, Imari. You don't know what they were really talking about. No, but what if I'm right? I can't let them kill him!

Just then, a body fell past the window. I heard the scream as it tumbled toward the raging ocean surface. I knew instantly who it was by the pitch of the scream-Reed. But why wasn't it Jim? Why did they want Reed dead instead?

"Oh, get a grip Imari!" I yelled at myself. I bolted to the door, falling once on a down surge. It flew open, spraying cold salt water in my face. It burned the scabs on my nose and forehead. Squinting against the downpour of rain and spray of the ocean I climbed the stairs and bent over the stern to search for Reed.

Left? No. Right? No. Where? Where . . . ?! Ah!

He bobbed suddenly above a receding wave. I had to hurry or I'd lose him. I saw a rope to my right that was tied to a hook on the main mast. The knot around Reed's waist must have been too loose and come undone when he was up in the rigging. I took the end of it and tied it securely around my stomach-or as securely as a Brownie Scout could. I looked back over. Did I lose him? He thrashed as he was drawn under. With a deep intake of air I jumped.

Down, down, splash!

I kicked hard and soon found the air again. He was being hauled farther away on another wave. I dived.
Kick, stroke, kick, stroke, kick.
I surfaced. A surge pushed me away from the ship. Closer. To the right a bit. Dive. Stroke, kick, stroke. Breathe.

"Reed!" I called. Could he hear me above the rush of the waves? "REED!"

"Help!" Reed was at my left now. About ten feet from me.

"Swim to me, Reed!" I yelled. I stayed above the water to keep my eyes on him. He was frantic and could barely keep himself up. Just a bit more. "Take my hand!" I reached and he threw himself at it. He pulled himself in to my side.

"Thank ye! Bless ye!" he cried.

"Do you think you can pull yourself back?" I tried to yell over the
thunder.

"Na! Don' ma'e me go alone!" He clung to my neck. I chocked.

"Okay! Then help me!" We towed ourselves in with the rope. We reached the side of the ship but I knew there was no way I could climb the rope to the top. That was always my worst activity in gym class. "Reed! Do you think you could climb that?" I pointed up at the swaying rope. He watched it for a moment nodded quickly.

"Yah, I thin' so."

"Good! I can't so you'll have to
pull me up when you get to the top."
He shook his head vigorously.

"No! Ye'll be safer down 'ere! Yates don' wan' ye aroun'-he'll do anythin' ta get rid o' ye!"

"What? Why-no, never mind! Just go up there and pull me up. I can take care of the rest." It took me a while to persuade him but when I said that if I stayed down there I definitely wouldn't be around to not be wanted around, he seemed convinced. He made his slow ascent, slipping several times on the way.
While I waited, I could see the sky losing some of its bleakness and feel the waves lose some of their force. There was a pull on the rope. Reed was heaving with all his might. I tried to find foot holds in the side to help steady my way up.

The waves were slowing. I could almost see the deck. There was a snarl above me. Yates was bounding towards Reed. I jumped for the edge just as Yates hit Reed. The rope slipped and fell over the side, tugging at my waist when it caught.

I brought my arm around one of the banisters and tried to throw my leg up. Yates was up and running at me. He kicked my arm and stomped on my other hand. But within another second, Reed was on top of him.

They wrestled and I franticly fought for the security of the deck. A hand grabbed the back of my shirt and lifted me the rest of the way.

"Is this a habit of yours? I'm always finding you clinging to the side of ships." Jim's smile brought tears to my eyes. He set me on my feet and turned to face Crosse who was coming up the stairs to see what the commotion was about. I quickly undid the rope and threw it to the side. Yates had thrown Reed to one side and was coming at me again.
Jim jumped between us. Yates stopped for a moment to let Crosse in who then jumped towards Jim.
They fell to the ground with a thud and rolled about, throwing hits to each others sides when they dared.

"Yer mine!" Yates sneered at me. I glared back. There was no use in trying to talk him out of his intent. He hated me-obviously, and wanted me dead-again, obvious. "Ya think ya can jus' waltz in an' take what's ours? Eatin' our food, makin' the cap'in fawn all o'er ya an' give ya special room to yerself. Well, I'm na gonna let you take it all!"

"You think I want it all?" I said. "You're dumber than you look!"

He snarled and leaped at me. I easily stepped out of his way.

"You don't just sound like a dog, do you? You fight like one too!" We had gathered a small audience and they laughed with great amusement. They certainly hadn't had a show like this in a while. Crosse and a few others had managed to tie Jim and Reed to the main mast so they could watch the display as well.
Imari, I thought. Sometimes you are so naughty. I chuckled.

Yates came back around with a left for my face, which I again dodged. I knew I wasn't a very good fighter, but compared to him I was Jackie Chan! His anger was building with every swing. He threw his whole body into the next punch. I side stepped and landed a side kick to his solarplex. He crumpled, gasping for breath. Shocked silence filled the air.

"I'm over my self-pity phase. You're not going to catch me off guard again." I tried to stare down the group but they met mine with their more intense death glares.

THUNK!

I fell on back and gripped my stomach. Yates was standing over me with the rope swinging in his hands.

"Caught you." He grinned. He wound the rope up for another swing. THUNK! My raised arm stopped it from hitting my face. I grabbed the rope with both hands and putting my feet on his stomach, I flipped Yates over me.

SMACK!

I jumped up, ready for the next attack, as did he.

"YATES!" Manheim's voice boomed over the cheering crowd. We both turned to face the oncoming rage. He stood inches from Yates and gave him the most ferocious glare I'd ever seen.

"Set our course!" he roared without taking his eyes away from Yates face. "I want this ship in the harbor by tomorrow morning." The crew fearfully scrambled in every direction. "Jim! Bring it to me!"

I looked over at Jim who was being untied by none other than Crosse. Jim seemed very hesitant about going to get "it" but as he glanced at me, his face hardened and he disappeared into Manheim's cabin. He reappeared holding a handful of something long, thin and rough. He silently handed it to the captain. He took me by the arm and led me back down to his room.
Moments later I heard the sharp snaps of a whip and the muffled screams of Yates.

*

I stayed huddled in the far corner for the rest of the day. No matter how hard I pressed my hands over my ears, I couldn't drown out the screams. I didn't care that I was crying-I was too exhausted to care. Jim came in with a tray of food which I didn't have the stomach for. He talked to me about trivial things; evidently trying to change my train of thought. I was slowly slipping into a comfortable sleep-except that my feet were cold. Jim continued to talk.

Feet. Cold.

"It looks like that fight took a lot out of you. I'll let you sleep."

"Jim," I mumbled. "My feet . . . are cold." I lifted a hand to point to my bag in the corner. "Get . . . my socks . . . please." He obediently went for it and opened the stuffed blue bag. "Inside . . . my shoes." He scrambled through to the bottom and yanked out the salt-crusted sneakers. Something landed on the floor. I slipped a little further and closed my eyes as Jim picked up my driver ID card. When I heard his last question, his voice was stifled.

"Imari? What does 'F' stand for?"

I could barely form the word on my dead lips.

"Fe . . . male . . ."

My feet are cold . . .