Captain England (Post 11)

England scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to digest everything I’d told him. “Lass, I don’t know what to say. Ye’ve turned everything I know on its head.”

I sighed. “I know. But you have to believe me.” I stood up and started to pace. “The privies – they’re a major problem. You can’t let waste get into the drinking water. That causes cholera, dysentery, typhoid fever…”

“And boiling the water kills these invisible culprits, ye say?” he asked, looking up at me from where he sat at the table.

“Most of them. You need to start boiling the water you drink. And since I don’t know how to store disinfected water, you’ll have to do it often. You’ll need to take lots of fruit on your ship to prevent scurvy – lemons, limes, oranges, apples. And be sure to load lots of garlic and vinegar. Also, any soap that you’ve got. Your men need to start washing their hands before they eat and – ” I stopped, seeing the expression on England’s face. “What is it? You believe me, don’t you? You have to believe me!”

He was silent, staring pensively at nothing, and so I walked over and kneeled before him, taking his hand. He sat up, surprised, as I said, “Edward, listen to me. I know you don’t really believe that I’m from the future, but I swear to you, I am. And I swear that if you take me with you, I’ll try my best to keep you and your men healthy with what I know.”

England’s expression hardened, his red eyebrows coming together. “I can’t take ye with me, lass. There be no women aboard pirate ships. And you’d not last a moment in that kind of life.”

“But then what will happen to me?” I cried, letting go of his hand.

“Nassau will become a proper Crown colony once the King’s governor arrives,” England said, trying to soothe me. “I’ll be sure to leave ye in the hands of a trustworthy man, a clean man, who’ll settle ye here in Nassau with a proper home – ”

“No!” I yelled, standing up.

“Sabrina,” England said firmly, “I’m going to Africa, to cruise abroad. If ye come with me, ye’ll never get back to where ye came from. Ye’ll get sick, and ye’ll probably die, if not from some malady then by the hand of a brigand with no nation and, very likely, no soul.”

The panic threatened to choke me. “You’re the only hope I have in this place,” I said softly, my voice high with despair. “There’s nowhere for me to go, no way for me to get home. I can help you. Please, Edward!”

“No,” he replied calmly, but his blue eyes were bright with choler. He then stood and stormed out of the house, leaving me alone and on the brink of tears.

I sat and sobbed for several minutes, wallowing in my anguish. I could hear voices out in the street, the singing of tropical birds, the buzz of the crickets. The smell of rot floated in through the door, which England had left open. I lifted my skirt to my nose, breathing through my mouth. God, I hated this filthy, disease-ridden place. I just hated it…

I looked up, the aquamarine material, still fine and clean, falling from my hand.

I had a plan.