Annamaria tossed a small anchor overboard as she sailed into the harbor. Like Tortuga, the only person manning the docks was a drunkard who only cared whether he got his shilling or not. She put on her salty clothes and her tattered, special hat.
Anna stepped onto the rickety dock and tossed the "harbormaster" his pay. He winked at her and she sneered back. Without realizing it, she stepped over a crack in the wooden beams. In all these years, no one's bothered to fix it, she thought. To her, it said a lot about Isla Vache, and change. This gave her hope for finding Victoria.
Annamaria strode through the marketplace. No one called out to her, remembering her. She had not expected it, but it would have been nice for at least one person to realize she had lived on this blasted island for eighteen years.
The same scarf-seller was there. Annamaria flinched as she passed his stand, and he didn't recognize her, thank goodness. She pulled her hat down low.
Annamaria looked up and saw Rafael's sprawling land looming up at her. The thick iron bars were still there. But Annamaria could not be held back from getting her friend's mother by a gate.
She went right up to the bars and clutched them, trying to look inside the windows. She did not see anything but darkness. Quickly looking around, she noticed a rock nearby. She picked it up and chucked it at the window, hoping it would smash into smithereens. Ducking down, she hunched over and scurried over to the other side of the house.
She looked round and tried to see if anyone came out to inspect the broken window. To her dismay, no one did. She thought about lobbing another rock at the house but decided Rafael would be mad enough when he found out she stole Victoria away. Then she crouched to her ankles as Antonio Rafael stepped out of his house. Annamaria held her breath as he opened the gate and walked out. He completely ignored (or didn't notice) the window that Annamaria broke. Soon, several women followed him.
Annamaria gasped. One was Sandy. As they limped down the road, Annamaria scurried after them.
"Sandy," Annamaria hissed. "Sand. . . y."
Sandy whipped around, fear flashing in her eyes. She did not recognize Annamaria.
Her heart sank. But then Sandy smiled.
"Anna! Where have you been?" she said quietly. She cast a quick look in the direction of Rafael and her fellow slaves and dragged Annamaria into an alley.
"I've bin all around, mate," Annamaria replied. She regretted her words, when Sandy looked down. "Sorry."
"No, don't be. I could've escaped. But no." Sandy looked off.
"Have you seen Victoria?" Annamaria asked.
"V. . . blondie? Yeah, she's still wiv us. Th' old one. She must be nearly forty. Antonio- Mr. Rafael- uses her for one thing only. . ." Sandy inspected her hands, clearly embarrassed. Annamaria felt like she was going to throw up. Victoria was Rafael's sex slave. She grabbed Sandy's shoulders. "Take me to her, Sandy.
The clock was ticking.