The Castaways and the switching of Taylo

PROLOGUE

Eli sucked the air deep into his nostrils; the scent of brine, the thick foam curling out bursts of kelp and salty mist. It never ceased to amaze him, how a world so far from his own could smell like home. The moon glowed off the waves like ten thousand diamonds cast into a swath of blackened silk as they moved their way through the darkness. Across the deck he could hear the breeze snap the sails towards the west and the Eligo responded soundly, healing to the wind.

Eli saw what he wanted; the darkest spot on the water and now the wind was just right, “set a course fifteen off the eye.”

“Aye captain, fifteen off the eye.”

Parmethos turned the wheel slightly, healing the ship to the starboard. The wooden behemoth creaked under the load as it cut across the subtle waves. Eli’s eye’s never left the starlight sky above as the schooner healed to her side. He was used to it. Nothing could change his focus now.

Josiah walked the deck, pacing back and forth holding on to his waistline. The sky was clear. It would be a good night for a chase. If only the sign would appear. Shifting his weight to counter the leaning of the ship, Josiah made his way across the deck and up the steps to the captain, “anything?”

“Not yet, my friend. Not yet,” Eli said softly, never averting his eyes from the sky. Above him in the backdrop of blackness, stars filled the sky as far as the eye could see, sparkling brightly above the sails, “but I have a feeling.”

“Me too,” Josiah joined Eli in the watch, “maybe that’s a sign.”

Suddenly Josiah’s pants slipped to his knees and he felt the breeze sweep up on him.

“Hmm,” Eli stroked his long grey beard, “that is no sign that I want to see.”

Josiah dove for his pants and quickly pulled them up, holding them to his frame, “Ooh,” he moaned, “I’ve lost a lot of weight since we’ve been here!”

“Well lash them up or something. You can’t be dropping your trousers all the time. It’s embarrassing; or take them to Donovan. He can fix them up.”

“But these are my favorite trousers! My mum made me these.”

“So?”

“So, I don’t want someone snipping about them, even if he is a tailor!”

“You take them off before he snips.”

“I know that! Besides, I plan on righting myself when we get back home.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, getting my figure back. The women like that. Being portly makes them think your rich.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“I think you have lost more than some weight.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you might have a look down below, I think you have lost some bearings from that head of yours.”

“Humph…Speaking of bearings, do you think we are on the right course?”

“The time is right but we must be patient and you must get a belt.”

“I think we have been more than patient!”

Eli looked down at him and grinned, “Josiah Felderbanks! Do I detect a sense of unforbearing?”

“Eli, honestly, how long must this take?”

Eli chucked, “You are a worrisome sort Josiah. Even if we did see it tonight, it is still twelve years away before it truly begins.”

Josiah’s countenance fell. He looked down at the splintered deck wondering if it would ever happen, “I know. Can’t one hope?”

“I hope as well, my friend. I hope as well. I too am tired.”

“I still can see me and my friends playing Queek in front of the flat” Josiah sighed as he reminisced of youthful days.

Suddenly the sky began to roll ever so slightly to the east as if someone had pulled the sheet of stars across the horizon. Then a voice barked from the crow’s nest above, “WAYLING HO!”

The crew’s eyes shot toward the sky, looking left and right to find the object. Josiah spotted it tracing across the sky towards the east. He reached out and put his hand on Eli’s arm, “it’s heading straight for eleven” Josiah’s heart raced.

“Keep a clock on it,” Eli barked, “Parmethos hold your course.”

Josiah pulled out his pocket watch and glanced back and forth as he watched the shooting star head towards the glowing wave of light off the eastern horizon, “got it.” Josiah clicked the top of the watch as the bright light struck the drape of translucent light.

Eli watched through the sextant as the object disappeared, “mark this. 11, 142, 275, 5 degree down angle.”

Josiah quickly grabbed a pen from his vest pocket and jotted the captain’s words on his hand. Moving towards the front of the wheel he opened a small cabinet and pulled a chart from the compartment below and laid it on the small table on top, “142,272…142, 272…” he mumbled as his fingers traced over the map before resting on a single area, “5 degree down,” he fumbled in the compartment below and pulled out a small wooden triangle with markings carved along its edge, “5 degree down….”

Josiah stopped with his finger on a single point. His mouth fell open as he glanced toward Eli.

“Well?”

“It…it looks to be in New World,” his eyes began to well up with tears, “Eli!”

Eli held his gaze.

“It’s in New Holland.”

Eli knew the implications. He had waited his whole life for it. Now if only, it could actually come true as foretold. He had been disappointed too many times to not be cautious.

Just then another star streaked across the sky and another, each caught with a flash of lightening from the storm that lay at the end of the horizon. One by one, they were struck by a bolt that spun them off towards various curtains of glowing light in the west.

“Silas knows,” Eli murmured, “he won’t take any chances.”

“What do we do? We can’t miss this Eli!” Josiah trembled.

“Clock them all. It will not be as simple as we hoped.”

One by one they watched each orb fly into towards the iridescent waves and disappear, deciphering where each one landed.

Josiah wiped the sweat from his brow, “I think…I think I got them all. Eli this is impossible!”

Goosebumps raised on Eli’s arms.  This was it. Surely Silas would not waste his power if this wasn’t the time. It was time. “We shall see my friend…Parmethos, set a new heading.”

“Yes sir, where to?”

“Let us return to the island. We have a lot to prepare…perhaps for the last time.”



CHAPTER ONE

Somewhere between the traffic noise and the roar of the city echoing off of the brownstone buildings, Sam could hear Devin calling him from behind. He glanced over his shoulder to see his disheveled classmate running to catch up to him. Devin’s brown mop was flopping to and fro as he held the shoulder straps of his backpack fast to his chest.

“Sam! Wait up,” Devin panted.

Sam stopped and turned to wait wondering what was so urgent. Devin had the flare for the dramatic and a sense for the desperate but Sam didn’t mind mostly. Devin was a friend, one of the few he had though not for lack of trying. Most of the kids fell into their various clicks which Sam understood but never found much interest in. Devin was the same and perhaps that is what made them friends, the odd men out. “Hey, what’s up?”

Devin tried to catch his breath, “I…just….I just wanted to see what you …what you were doing this weekend. Whew, you’re fast!”

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were behind me. Nothing. Why?”

“I wanted to invite you to my birthday party on Saturday. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you during third period with Mrs. Casey babbling on, so I thought I would catch you after school but you had already taken off. It’s not that big of a deal, just a party at my house but I would like you to come if you can.”

Sam smiled. He had forgotten that Devin’s birthday was so close to his. “Sure. Who else is going to be there?”

“Um. I don’t know. Casey, Josh, Mike and Trina are invited and …well, my mother made me invite my cousins.”

“Corrina and Kyle?”

Devin looked down at the sidewalk before glancing back up to Sam with a twisted face, “Yea I know…but I don’t think they will stay long,” Devin tried to recover. Devin wasn’t going to try and convince Sam that Corrina was not a huge pain and Kyle inflicted it on anyone smaller than him, which was most everyone Devin and Sam’s age.

Sam considered the consequences. The last time he had seen Devin’s cousins were over the summer when Kyle tried to stuff Devin in the cabinet under the sink and Corrina went on and on about how pathetically boring it was her Aunt’s house, “I don’t know. I’ll have to see.”

“Please,” Devin begged, “please Sam, don’t make me face this alone! I’m begging here!”

Sam couldn’t help but giggle at Devin’s poor plight, “Alright, alright. I’ll be there. What time?”

Devin’s face broke into utter relief, “Saturday…one o’clock, Thanks Sam. You’re a lifesaver!”

“Yea, yea but you’re going to owe me,” Sam grinned as Devin began to trot away.

“I know. It wouldn’t be the first time….See you tomorrow!” and with that Devin disappeared around the corner of Danny’s market.

Sam opened the door to his apartment on the third floor and tossed the keys onto the table as he flipped through the mail. It would be two hours before his mother got home and he often passed the time with retrieving the mail, raiding the cupboards and watching T.V. As usual, most of the mail was junk and anything real was addressed to his mom or Mr. Carl Shitung who lived there before them except for an unusual looking postcard that was addressed specifically to him.

On one side of the glossy 5 x7 card was the words “Happy Birthday!” and on the back was a detailed paragraph explaining that ‘Sailor’s Cell ‘cessories’ wanted to give him a gift.

Dear Sam:

We want to wish you the happiest on your twelfth birthday, a very, very special birthday indeed. That is why if you come and visit out kiosk at the mall we will give you a gift that is truly fit a young man your age.

We have a unique and rare cell phone cover for you that will be the envy of all your friends and we know that you are sure to enjoy! And if by chance, you do not have a cell phone, we are offering a free cell phone of your choosing along with the special cover absolutely free.

So what is the catch you may ask? The only catch is that ONLY you can take advantage of this offer in person. That is truly it. There are no gimmicks or anything to buy. We promise. This is our special gift to you on your birthday. There is nothing to sign or buy, we swear. Just simply come by our kiosk with this card, again it must be you in person, and receive this special offer on your actual birthday.

Happy Birthday Sam!

Sam reached in his pocket with his left hand to grab his cell phone. It was a hand-me-down from his mother. An old Nokia with the center button missing. Certainly nothing that he was ever proud of but it worked and it got him by. He brushed his thumb over the keypad wondering if a new cover could really make it appear much better or if they even had a cover for this model anymore. In some ways, he felt embarrassed to even go and find out. Then he thought perhaps he could get a new cell phone. The card had mentioned free phones and didn’t say he couldn’t trade his old one in. It was tempting.

He had often dreamed of being wealthy and living in a big house far from the city with both a mother and a father but like many dreams, one can only hope for the future and enjoy the moments in between. Perhaps when he was older, he would have a family of his own that could be just that. He wished he had more ambition or a talent that could drive him. So far he had found nothing that made him special. Nothing that made him stand out from the crowd even though his mother told him otherwise.

Sam sighed and then opened up his backpack, grabbed his history book and slid the postcard in between the pages. Perhaps he would take the bus to the mall on Sunday.

The tiny apartment burst to life as Sam’s mother came through the door with her arms full with groceries, “Sam honey, can you help me?”

“Sure.” Sam rose off the coach and went to grab the bags from her hands.

“Whew! Why I got an apartment on the third floor is beyond me!” Marie sighed as she found a perch for her purse and the remaining bags on the kitchen counter, “how was your day honey?”

“It was fine. How was yours?”

“Ugh. Long, very long,” she moaned as she reached down to pull off her shoes, “and now I have to work this weekend.”

“So you’re not going to be home on Sunday?”

“I know that it is your birthday baby. I’m sorry. I tried to get out of it but hey,” she took his face into her hands, “I promise, next weekend, I’ll make it up to you, okay? How about Coney Island?”

“It’s no big deal mom. I didn’t have any plans for my birthday anyway.” Sam knew how hard his mother worked and he never wanted to burden her. He could see how tired she was and though he didn’t know how to take care of her, he felt the best he could do was to make her life as easy as possible.

“Nope, I am taking you to Coney Island and if you want to bring Devin or someone, we will make a day of it. It’s not everyday my boy turns twelve,” she smiled and then tussled his hair, “now I have got to get out of these stinky clothes. I smell like a deep fryer.”

“Okay. Hey mom?”

“Yea,” she called out from the single bedroom.

“Speaking of Devin, he is having a birthday party on Saturday and I kinda told him I would go. Is that okay?”

“Yea that’s fine. Do you know what you want to get him?”

Sam hadn’t thought that far, “no, maybe just a gift card or something.”

“Alright, well tell me and I can pick him up a card and a gift on my home tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.” The card. Sam grabbed his backpack and pulled the postcard from his history book. He now knew what he would do since his mother had to work. He was going to the mall on Sunday. He had a birthday gift waiting.



CHAPTER TWO

It was four in the afternoon and chaos consumed the Community Christian Foster Care home as usual. There was a group of boys chasing each other through the house led by the notorious Kevin. He had a unique talent for taking the calmest of moments and making them into a tormenting affair. Although he was selective in his targets, anyone who was smaller than him, unfortunately that included everyone in the house except for the care providers and even they had their moments of challenge. He often used the excuse of ADD, ADHD, BPD or GAD as a reason for his behavior, all of which he had been diagnosed, which the care providers would have to excuse to some degree. Taylor knew how smart he really was and thought his excuses were really more like D-U-M-B or P-A-I-N. 

         In moments like these, Taylor often escaped to her upper bunk in the girl’s bedroom. There she could hide away, if only briefly, from what had become the norm. Quietly she would sit with her legs folded and a sheet pulled over her to avoid attention and draw, her favorite pastime. She didn’t know why but she often drew fantastical pictures of wizards, knights, horses and dragons. Still her favorite scenes were of quiet city streets with quaint buildings and vendors on the corner selling their wares. Sometimes when she drew them she could picture herself in the window of one of those buildings living a normal life with a little sister that she could take down to the park and a mother who loved her. One that would be busy making them supper then perhaps a movie and some shopping over the weekend. Yet too often, it would draw a tear out of the corner of her eye that would fall upon her sketch pad and ruin it, so she stuck to castles, until those special moments when her heart could handle it.

         Suddenly her sheet flew back causing her brunette locks to sweep over her eyes. She felt her sketch pad being ripped out of her hands. In a fury, she tried to brush her hair from her face to see her assailant.

         “Ooh, can I see the pretty pictures!” Kevin teased as he turned the sketch pad four different directions and began to laugh that ever so annoying laugh.

         “Give it back Kevin!” Taylor reached for her pad off the edge of the bunk but Kevin quickly pulled it back.

         “What is it a picture of your boyfriend!” Kevin crooned.

         “It’s none of your business! Now give it back you turd!” Taylor could feel the anger building.

         “Oh no wait…I see what it is! It’s a lady dropping off an ugly baby at an orphanage!” Kevin stared at the paper, “It’s a picture of your mom!” Kevin cackled.

         “That’s it!” Taylor mumbled as she left off of the bunk and landed solidly on the floor in front of Kevin who proceeded to dash down the hall. “Give it back you jerk!”

         Kevin flew into the living room and dashed around the coach singing “Taylor’s mom is a loser. Taylor’s mom is a loser!”

         Taylor faced him from the other end of the couch, crouching ready to leap on him and beat him to a pulp, “Give it back Kevin. I am not playing with you!” Seeing him relax she lurched around the backside of the couch but he scrambled to the front. All the commotion drew the rest of the house to the living room while Mrs. Futzwiler talked on the phone and tried to ignore them.

         “What’s wrong Taylor…wanna get back the pretty picture of your loser mommy!” Kevin teased. Several of the younger boys joined in the banter while the girls egged Taylor to getting him.

         As the volume began to increase, Mrs. Futzwiler cupped the phone with her hand and screamed over the kitchen counter towards the living room, “Hey! Keep it down in there!” but the volume just increased, “I’ll call you back.”

         The kids continued to chant and yell as if they were ringside for the ‘big match’ when Mr. Futzwiler walked in the back door with a bag of groceries and a stack of mail tucked under his arm. “Another day at the office?” he asked Mrs. Futzwiler.

         “As usual!” she sneered and then turned her attention back to the living room, “Taylor! Kevin! Knock it off right now!”

         Kevin glanced over to the kitchen and Taylor leaped over the top of the couch catching him off guard. Face to face she grabbed for the pad but Kevin jerked it high into the air, out of her reach.

         Mrs. Futzwiler scoured the grocery bags, “Did you get the milk like I asked you?”

         “Oh crap! I…I…I brought the mail in,” he smiled sheepishly.

         “Bill!” she said in disgust then turned back to the living room, “Stop it everyone! now!” she screamed.

         Just then the chaos was shattered by a high pitched cry coming from the back of the house. It was the youngest girl, Kylie, she was only six. As Kevin looked over his shoulder towards the noise, Taylor stomped as hard as she could on top of his foot. Instantly, he jerked his foot up and grabbed for it with both hands. Taylor snatched her pad back, “That’s for being such a jerk!” she said and then made a beeline for Kylie.

         Taylor found Kylie staggering down the hall from the girl’s bedroom with her hand on her forehead sobbing, “baby, what happened?” Taylor said softly.

         “I was trying to get…I was trying to get Mr. Hobbs off the top of the dresser and I…I fewl,” she whimpered.

         “let me see,” Taylor pushed Kylie’s hand aside so that she could see the small red bump on her forehead, “Oh, you’re okay honey. Shssh, you’re okay.” Taylor picked her up and carried her to the backroom, grabbed the stuffed floppy-eared dog from the top of the dresser and handed it to her, “you okay?”

         “Yea,” Kylie swiped the last tear from her eye and hugged her puffy pooch, “I love you Taywer.”

         Taylor felt the words, “I love you too sweetie. Now no more climbing on top of stuff okay?”

         “Okay.”

         As things began to settle in the living room and Kevin quit screaming about his foot, Taylor made her way into the kitchen to look through the mail. She knew it was silly to look year after year but she couldn’t help but keep up her hopes that her mother might have remembered. It would have meant the world to her but once again there was nothing. She tried to imagine that her mother was in a terrible predicament that wouldn’t allow her near a phone or the mailbox but she knew reality.

Slowly she glanced through the various offers and then a postcard caught her eye that was addressed specifically to her. In a lightening move she grabbed it and tucked it into her sweatshirt. Looking around to make sure no one noticed, she headed towards the girl’s bedroom.

Once inside she grabbed her small flashlight that she kept tucked in the crease of her bed and scurried into the closet. She slid the door closed behind her, flipped on her light and shined it down on the postcard. It started, “Dear Taylor: We want to wish you the happiest on your twelfth birthday, a very, very special birthday indeed.”