Miguel stood quietly in the dark, staring at Chel. The woman who had ruined everything.
Twice.
He wondered how many more lives she'd wrecked since then.
She probably keeps a tally.
And what would happen this time?
Things were just starting to feel like they were getting back to normal and now, this.
A little voice in the back of Miguel's mind whispered, "Fate." He shook his head hard to silence it. Believing in fate was only useful when it was working to your advantage. He leaned back against a crate and crossed his arms. Stupid woman.
At some point, after she had convinced Tulio to ditch him, again, he had decided she must be some kind of witch. She clearly had some kind of supernatural influence. Otherwise, why had Tulio fallen for her? Look at those thighs. And that voice! It just didn't add up. She must be evil.
"You thought she was hot once," the annoying little voice said.
"Shut up," said Miguel, apparently out loud, because Chel and her companions stopped talking and looked in his direction. He ducked down behind the crate he had been leaning on, hoping the darkness had concealed him.
Shortly the others resumed talking, apparently deciding they were hearing things, and Miguel was relieved. He didn't know what he'd say to Chel when the time came, but given his current train of thought, it was likely to include a few swear words. Probably more than a few, actually, now that he'd started thinking about what had actually happened. That was a fun one.
After wandering around the New World for a while, still happy and fresh off their adventure, they'd managed to find their way to some kind of civilization and bartered passage on a ship that was headed for Spain. The trip home had been fine, almost pleasant, but the minute their feet touched the dock in Valencia, Chel started whining that she wanted to explore.
"I want to see Spain!" she had announced.
See Spain? Why? Miguel had seen Spain. It wasn't that exciting. But Chel wanted to.
"Tulio, I want you to show me Spain!" she had said, and Tulio had looked at her in "that way," which Miguel knew meant trouble.
Still, he agreed to travel around, not having anything better to do. But when he'd woken up the next morning, Chel had worked her magic and the traveling had begun without him. He hadn't bothered to figure out which way they had gone. He didn't care. He'd just hitched up Altivo and headed home. And wound up in jail a few months later. What a bitch.
Miguel walked quietly back into the forecastle. He didn't want to be the first to confront Chel. That honor should be Tulio's. He climbed into his hammock and waited. Someone would come in soon enough and the introductions would begin.
The long trek to Barcelona had apparently taken its toll; Miguel must have nodded off, because he was startled awake by Chel shrieking, "What are you doing here?"
Miguel stretched his arms and leaned back in the dim lantern light. This should be interesting. Tulio opened his eyes groggily.
"Whaa? Oh, mierda."
Yes, Tulio had recognized Chel in the semi-dark. Miguel bit his lip to keep from laughing at the comical look on Tulio's face.
"What are you doing here?" she screamed again, louder this time.
There was a yelp and a loud thud, followed by Alano's curses. These mingled with Tulio's and Chel's voices and soon the forecastle was too loud to fake sleep any longer. Miguel sat up. Tulio and Chel were too bus arguing to notice. Chel's companions, apparently uninterested, had retreated to their hammocks.
Alano recovered from his surprise awakening and came over to sit next to Miguel. He rubbed his eyes, still groggy.
"Do you have any idea what's going on?"
Chel was now yelling at Tulio. She was using a language Miguel had never heard before, but she sounded really angry. A lot angrier than someone who "took off" should sound.
Miguel shook his head. "I really don't."
Wow, I can't believe it took me so long to update this. Actually, yes I can. But I have some good excuse... went to Europe, had a 15 page research paper to write, and best of all, I had this chapter entirely written in a longer and better form and I THREW IT AWAY. Yes, literally right in the trash. That's what I get for writing in a school notebook and not looking at what I'm throwing out. So, appy-polly-logies for making you all wait so long for such a short chapter. Better next time, I promise!
