Post by Sylvia Phoenix on Sept 5, 2012 4:25:29 GMT -7
The sound of explosions, shouting, crashing waves, and thunder filling her ears. All sounds deadened moments later, forced underneath the cold water. Sputtering for air, raindrops stinging her face. Muscles exhausted, struggling to stay afloat. Grasping at wreckage with numb fingers. Finding James's hand and clinging to it for dear life. Lightning, a massive wave, still holding on, then blackness...
Minta woke. Feeling a rush of relief when she felt the sun's warmth caressing her face instead of icy water. She sat up, brushing sand from her hair, and appreciatively took stock of her surroundings. She'd drifted off while reading under a palm tree, reclining on the white sand of a beautiful beach. Today the water was a perfect shade of crystal blue, gently lapping the shore. The locals called this place Thousand Steps Cove, because that's exactly how many steps it took to walk the full length of the beach's crescent moon shape. Cozy little spot. Minta counted herself lucky that she and her comrades had wound up on this lovely island. Though haunted by frequent nightmares of the ordeal she had gone through a month earlier, Araminta felt safe.
Standing up and stretching, Minta checked to make sure she hadn't rumpled any pages of the Robinson Crusoe book she'd been reading. It was intact, thank goodness. She didn't want to embarrass herself to her hostess, who had kindly lent it to her. Striding barefoot along the sandy trail back to town, Minta was greeted by everyone she passed. The citizens of Greenford were friendly and hospitable. Simple folk with simple lives, who held traditional beliefs and made their living by fishing. After being rescued by a fishing boat, Araminta and her comrades had been taken in by the fisherman's family, and welcomed by the townspeople. Minta was beginning to feel she could belong here.
Minta and her companions were being put up at the local boarding house, owned by the fisherman's family and operated by his bright, sociable wife Renee. Entering through the kitchen door, Minta found her friend bustling about, gathering dishes, surrounded by several of her noisy young children.
"Minta, my love! Just in time. A mite of help getting lunch on the table would be dearly appreciated. Oh, finished already!" she exclaimed as Minta handed her the novel.
"It was even more exciting than you led me to believe," Minta replied smiling. "I could scarcely put it down. Echoed a few of my own misadventures, truth be told."
"Lord, but don't I know it," Renee answered sympathetically. By now the whole town was familiar with the castaways' tale of capture by Blackbeard and subsequent escape. "Speaking of which, you may want to peek in on Mr. Gillette before lunch. He's a bit more despondent than usual today."
Minta's expression saddened slightly, remembering the hard time Desmond had been having. "You've been taking care of him, Renee. Why doesn't he seem to be getting better?"
"Oh, his wound's healing up just famously. Soon he'll have naught but a scar to show for it. It's his heart that isn't getting well. I reckon you should have a chat, knowing him better than me."
"I barely know him at all," Minta replied ruefully.
"But you were there when it happened, not me," Renee reasoned. "And Lord knows you're better at talking to him than those other fellows. Mr. Norrington, silent as a stone. And ol' whats-his-name. Crazy as a coot. Hardly ever see him. I wonder where he gets off to all day."
"You and me both." Minta smirked slightly. She still wasn't used to Jack's flamboyance and bizarre personal habits. "You're right, I'll talk to Mr. Gillette. No time like the present."
Making her way through the mob of unruly kids, Minta ascended the creaky stairs to Desmond's room on the second floor landing. If he had left his room anytime in the past month, Minta wasn't aware of it. She knocked lightly. "It's Araminta. May I come in?"
Minta woke. Feeling a rush of relief when she felt the sun's warmth caressing her face instead of icy water. She sat up, brushing sand from her hair, and appreciatively took stock of her surroundings. She'd drifted off while reading under a palm tree, reclining on the white sand of a beautiful beach. Today the water was a perfect shade of crystal blue, gently lapping the shore. The locals called this place Thousand Steps Cove, because that's exactly how many steps it took to walk the full length of the beach's crescent moon shape. Cozy little spot. Minta counted herself lucky that she and her comrades had wound up on this lovely island. Though haunted by frequent nightmares of the ordeal she had gone through a month earlier, Araminta felt safe.
Standing up and stretching, Minta checked to make sure she hadn't rumpled any pages of the Robinson Crusoe book she'd been reading. It was intact, thank goodness. She didn't want to embarrass herself to her hostess, who had kindly lent it to her. Striding barefoot along the sandy trail back to town, Minta was greeted by everyone she passed. The citizens of Greenford were friendly and hospitable. Simple folk with simple lives, who held traditional beliefs and made their living by fishing. After being rescued by a fishing boat, Araminta and her comrades had been taken in by the fisherman's family, and welcomed by the townspeople. Minta was beginning to feel she could belong here.
Minta and her companions were being put up at the local boarding house, owned by the fisherman's family and operated by his bright, sociable wife Renee. Entering through the kitchen door, Minta found her friend bustling about, gathering dishes, surrounded by several of her noisy young children.
"Minta, my love! Just in time. A mite of help getting lunch on the table would be dearly appreciated. Oh, finished already!" she exclaimed as Minta handed her the novel.
"It was even more exciting than you led me to believe," Minta replied smiling. "I could scarcely put it down. Echoed a few of my own misadventures, truth be told."
"Lord, but don't I know it," Renee answered sympathetically. By now the whole town was familiar with the castaways' tale of capture by Blackbeard and subsequent escape. "Speaking of which, you may want to peek in on Mr. Gillette before lunch. He's a bit more despondent than usual today."
Minta's expression saddened slightly, remembering the hard time Desmond had been having. "You've been taking care of him, Renee. Why doesn't he seem to be getting better?"
"Oh, his wound's healing up just famously. Soon he'll have naught but a scar to show for it. It's his heart that isn't getting well. I reckon you should have a chat, knowing him better than me."
"I barely know him at all," Minta replied ruefully.
"But you were there when it happened, not me," Renee reasoned. "And Lord knows you're better at talking to him than those other fellows. Mr. Norrington, silent as a stone. And ol' whats-his-name. Crazy as a coot. Hardly ever see him. I wonder where he gets off to all day."
"You and me both." Minta smirked slightly. She still wasn't used to Jack's flamboyance and bizarre personal habits. "You're right, I'll talk to Mr. Gillette. No time like the present."
Making her way through the mob of unruly kids, Minta ascended the creaky stairs to Desmond's room on the second floor landing. If he had left his room anytime in the past month, Minta wasn't aware of it. She knocked lightly. "It's Araminta. May I come in?"