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I couldn’t speak. In a mix of confusion and surprise, I stayed silent. Because there was nothing I could think to say to my father, especially not to a question like that. I stood there, refusing to face him, and glad for the hood over my head that I didn’t dare remove, even as I browsed the house.
“Answer me, damnit!” He shouted. I didn’t need to turn around to picture his green eyes flashing. “Are you going to take the only thing I have left, Henry? All for one empty ship?” With each word, his voice broke, going from stern and strong to choking back tears. I guessed the empty ship he was talking about was referring to his earlier conversation with Hook. And I remembered the name from the note I found on the man I fought on the shore. Henry. The man I killed. He thought I was him. But what did everything else mean? I had to say something…
“What do you think I’m here for?” I muttered, being sure to keep my face turned away.
“Did you already do it? You killed my son? Just like you killed her when you couldn’t wait another damn week for your bloody pay.”
“The boy is fine. For now.” I did my best to keep up with the façade. “How do I know I can continue to rely on you?” I was hoping I could get answers.
“I’m working with the slavers now. I’m getting the word out with the companies, and I’m getting commissioned more often. God, Henry, was the arrangement at Rockshore not enough to tie you over? I can ensure they’ll pay the remainder of what I owe if you just give me a little more time.”
That was it. My father was somehow heavily indebted to this brute. For what, I didn’t know. But this had to be why he’d turned to the slave trade for profit. He was in too deep with these dark affairs. I had to swallow down the lump in my throat before speaking again. “Time. Time is what we all need a little more of, isn’t it, Tiburón?”
Suddenly, a startled voice shouted from the other room. My voice.
“Go tend to your boy. Before he finds out who you really are.” I said, each word stinging like salt in fresh wounds.
I listened for the sound of footsteps as Daven hurried to the other room. I used it as my chance to make my escape, right after I snatched up my mother’s ring from the cradle and tucked it away safely. My father didn’t deserve to hold onto it. Not when he was the reason for her death.
Strangely, as I disappeared into the night, I realized I now had a sudden memory of this incident. One that hadn’t been before. It became part of my mind in an instant, as if it was forming at that very moment. I was no longer in the house, but vividly I could remember my younger self after my departure, startled by the strange conversation I’d heard with my father and an intruder.
I stumbled to a tree and leaned over it, the memory clear before me as it was happening right then in the house I’d left behind.
“Who was there, Father?”
“It was just some bastard who came back with me. He was interested in joining my crew, but I told him we were full.”
“Oh.” Young Milo nodded, the sleep still heavy in his eyes. “Came back from where?”
“The docks.” Father smiled a tired smile, the crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes folding together. “There was an…incident down at the harbor. I was checking on the ships. But everything’s right now. Go on back to bed. You’ll be up early for the delivery tomorrow. And then we set sail for England.”
“Is this the shipment from Captain Valdez?” Milo blinked.
“Aye. And you know how he gets. So be rested up.”
I shook my head. I remembered it perfectly. My future self had altered my past and therefore altered my memories. So now I knew for sure the past could be changed to some degree. But at what cost? Because what my younger self nor my father didn’t know was that Valdez would be a day late. And when he finally arrived, he would kill my father in front of me.
But that didn’t matter at the moment. I still needed some time to process what I’d heard and piece things together. My father owed a debt, and he was doing whatever he could to pay it off. I should’ve known no reputable merchant would continue with his home base in a city like Nassau, with pirates practically running the place. But perhaps that was why he did. Perhaps he couldn’t go back to Barbados for some reason. Maybe “Henry” had higher up friends elsewhere, keeping my father cornered here. All I knew was that my father was a liar and a cheat—all the things he made me believe Kellem was, and he was responsible for my mother’s death. He told me she’d taken ill and passed and that my brother died in her womb along with her. Just like he never told me he was shipping humans like cattle right underneath my nose.
Suddenly, I was glad I’d killed Henry. And I was glad that I was a pirate. Because at least a pirate didn’t hide his deeds. He bore them proudly as the tattoos on his skin. And a true pirate knew all were equal at sea. For the first time in my life, I decided pirates—maybe with the exception of Thane and Valdez—had more decency than the lot of them.
And then I wept that night. I couldn’t remember the last time tears had fallen like that. Not since I was a child who lost his mother. But now I’d lost my father, too. And I watched as my tears washed away the dried blood on my rosary before I tossed it to the ground.
None of this mattered. I rebuked my foolishness once I shook off the anger. I wasn’t meant to know these things. I was meant to be back in the 21st century, with Katrina, learning the names of car parts and lattes. Not here, reliving my life and uncovering the dark secrets festering beneath the surface about my family.
One thing I’d learned in these past few twisted days spent here was that whatever I did here affected the rest of time. I’d killed one of the thugs who came to collect my father’s payments. There had to be a bigger fish coming. And he’d take it out on my father or my younger self. And if I tried to change what happened with Valdez and save my father like I thought I could, who knew what that could do to the future? I would probably live my life on the run from whoever was sent for retribution for Henry’s death. My father would go on digging himself deeper in this mess of cruelty he called business. And I’d never become cursed and meet Katrina.
All my life, I’d hated myself for the coward I was on board Valdez’s terrible ship. But by letting my father die like he was meant to, I was severing at least one small vein of the slavers’ trade, even for just a little while. At least that could console me now.
I looked up at the sky above me. There was the North Star, clear as ever, watching over me. And I knew I had to let all this go. It was time I found Katrina. I didn’t know how. But I knew where to start. If I was going to be trapped here in the past, I couldn’t linger in Nassau for long anyway. I’d need to commandeer a ship from the harbor once things settled down. Because if Katrina was out there, I had no doubt she’d still be heading toward the Devil’s Triangle. And who better to meet her there than a man already trapped in hell?
22
Ocean Eyes
Katrina
When I awoke, the ship was silent. There was no trace of the merrymaking that had been going on earlier. The only sounds reaching my ears were the low creaks of the ship against the waves and the scurrying of tiny mouse feet in the shadows.
