Chapter 3
The room was empty, but the window shutters had been closed and a fire was
leaping in the hearth. The lamp on the bed-side table flickered, casting a
faint light on the bed. Everything was very quiet, very still.
I took a deep breath, smelling the smell only an 18th century house could have, and it was quite pleasing. I pushed myself up slightly, wincing at the soreness in my arms, and glanced around the room. My backpack and suit case sat near the bureau, the guitar and case on the bureau's other side.
How long have a slept? I thought. As if on cue, a clock somewhere in the house began to chime, signaling 6 o'clock. I managed to drag my aching body out of bed and go to the window, I opened one of the shutters and beheld a sunset so beautiful it broke my heart, almost. The view from the window looked down onto an 18th century harbor, where there were two ships on the dock, and one much bigger one in the bay, sails tied up. The sun was slipping below the horizon, shining orange and gold onto the sea and tinting the clouds the same color. Red peeked at the edges, contrasting with the green and grey cliffs surrounding the harbor. As the sun continued to go down, the reds, oranges and gold's became soft pinks and purples, mingling with each other. I had not seen a sunset like this in a long time.
Closing the window, I sat on the edge of the bed, clasping my hands together. I was hungry, but doubted that anyone knew I was awake. Trying to pass time, I got dressed in one of my medieval-looking dresses I had gotten at a Renaissance Festival and got out my guitar. After tuning it, I began to pluck out "The Sound of Silence." The words went through my head, making my fingers play. Only when the door handle clicked did I look up in surprise. Elizabeth Swann stood, fascinated and staring, up against the door, an inquisitive smile on her face.
"What instrument is that?" she asked, approaching me.
"A guitar. You like it?"
"Very much, yes. I've never seen anything like it before." She sat down beside me. "What are you doing up?" she asked suddenly.
"I felt like getting up," I shrugged. "It's not like my getting beaten up hasn't happened before. I'm usually up and about in a couple of day. But I'm in a different time period, that's the thing."
"You mean, you're not from here?"
"No, I'm not from Port Royal, as you can obviously tell from my accent, and I live in the year 2004, not whatever year this is."
"1765."
"You're shitting me, right?"
"No, it's 1765." I silently swore, biting my tongue to keep the long list of expletives from bursting out. "How do I know you're from 2004?"
"Take a look at the suitcase and some of the stickers on it. See some of the dates on those?"
"1967, 1963, 1972, 1984." She looked over at me. "Have you been to all these places?"
"Hell no. The only place I've ever been outside of my own city is Virginia Beach, Virginia."
"Oh, you're from the colonies!" she exclaimed excitedly. She was starting to get on my nerves.
"Yes, I'm from the colonies, but they aren't called colonies any more. They're the United States of America, all 50 of them."
"No, there are only 13 colonies, still under English power, I'm certain of it." Warning, Fiona, you're stepping on dangerous ground, I thought. I didn't reply, just smiled. Boy did England have a surprise on its horizon.
"When was the last time you were in England?" I asked.
"Nine and a half years ago," she said.
"Well, there you go. A lot can happen in one year, let alone nine." I paused. "How old are you?" She looked mortified for a moment that I had even thought of asking such a question, then replied:
"Nearly 18." I couldn't help a wry smile – I was older than her by at least a year, and she still acted like she was 15. "Now, how old are you?"
"18 and a half."
"Elizabeth! Where are you?" came a voice down the hallway. She went to the door, opening it.
"Here, father, visiting with our patient." The Governor came in, and for his presence I was greatly relieved because I probably would have wrung Elizabeth's neck had I been alone with her any longer.
"Governor Swann," I said, sticking out my hand, "thank you very much for your hospitality." I shook his hand with a soft smile. "I'm not sure I deserve it. Considering I do not even know where I am, except a place called Port Royal, I am indebted to you for your kindness as I am a stranger." I had decided to put myself in an 18th century frame of mind and talk around him, as it would most likely suit my situation better.
"It was at my daughter's request that you were brought. As a father who loves his daughter greatly I could not resist her pleas. It still bewilders me as to why she insisted upon caring for you, but I have almost given up understanding her." Elizabeth grinned mischievously.
"Sir, where did you find me?"
"On the beach, with your belongings. We assumed you had been on a ship that had been attacked."
"No, I was not on a ship. I'm from the year 2004, far into the future."
"What? How is that possible?" he questioned, astounded.
"I do not know, sir, just that I went unconscious in 2004 and woke up here. I do not know how I came to be here."
"She is from the colonies, father, Virginia to be more specific," intruded Elizabeth.
"Virginia?"
"Yes, sir. I was on my way to Virginia Beach, to see my uncle."
"And your parents? You said they beat you. Did they play any part in your going to Virginia Beach?"
"They threw me out. I was forced to leave, I had no other choice. My uncle is the only other relative I have, the only one who accepts me."
Governor Swann was outwardly affronted, stunned that any parents would cast their children out into the streets. But I wasn't surprised – he barely knew the story of what had passed between my parents and me. If he asked, I would tell, but if he didn't, I would keep my life secrets my own.
"Well, you shall stay here until you are healed and able to discover a way back to your home and time," Governor Swann decided. "Please, do not hesitate to request anything you might need."
"Thank you, Governor, but I do not want to trespass any more on you. You have given enough in allowing me to stay here." And I do not think I want to go home, I added to myself. He smiled, inclining his head.
"Dinner shall be served in an hour. Elizabeth...." He raised his eyebrows, indicating something to her. He then left, leaving me alone with the annoying young woman. I sighed, leaning on the guitar, feeling queasy.
"If you will excuse me, Miss Swann, I need some rest. Will you make sure I'm up in time to get ready for dinner?"
"Of course." She smiled, taking her leave.
I curled up on the bed, wondering what the hell was happening to me.
Here is my song for the asking
Ask me and I will play
So sweetly, I'll make you smile
This is my tune for the taking
Take it, don't turn away
I've been waiting all my life
Disclaimer: Lyrics by Simon and Garfunkel, "Song for the Asking"
I took a deep breath, smelling the smell only an 18th century house could have, and it was quite pleasing. I pushed myself up slightly, wincing at the soreness in my arms, and glanced around the room. My backpack and suit case sat near the bureau, the guitar and case on the bureau's other side.
How long have a slept? I thought. As if on cue, a clock somewhere in the house began to chime, signaling 6 o'clock. I managed to drag my aching body out of bed and go to the window, I opened one of the shutters and beheld a sunset so beautiful it broke my heart, almost. The view from the window looked down onto an 18th century harbor, where there were two ships on the dock, and one much bigger one in the bay, sails tied up. The sun was slipping below the horizon, shining orange and gold onto the sea and tinting the clouds the same color. Red peeked at the edges, contrasting with the green and grey cliffs surrounding the harbor. As the sun continued to go down, the reds, oranges and gold's became soft pinks and purples, mingling with each other. I had not seen a sunset like this in a long time.
Closing the window, I sat on the edge of the bed, clasping my hands together. I was hungry, but doubted that anyone knew I was awake. Trying to pass time, I got dressed in one of my medieval-looking dresses I had gotten at a Renaissance Festival and got out my guitar. After tuning it, I began to pluck out "The Sound of Silence." The words went through my head, making my fingers play. Only when the door handle clicked did I look up in surprise. Elizabeth Swann stood, fascinated and staring, up against the door, an inquisitive smile on her face.
"What instrument is that?" she asked, approaching me.
"A guitar. You like it?"
"Very much, yes. I've never seen anything like it before." She sat down beside me. "What are you doing up?" she asked suddenly.
"I felt like getting up," I shrugged. "It's not like my getting beaten up hasn't happened before. I'm usually up and about in a couple of day. But I'm in a different time period, that's the thing."
"You mean, you're not from here?"
"No, I'm not from Port Royal, as you can obviously tell from my accent, and I live in the year 2004, not whatever year this is."
"1765."
"You're shitting me, right?"
"No, it's 1765." I silently swore, biting my tongue to keep the long list of expletives from bursting out. "How do I know you're from 2004?"
"Take a look at the suitcase and some of the stickers on it. See some of the dates on those?"
"1967, 1963, 1972, 1984." She looked over at me. "Have you been to all these places?"
"Hell no. The only place I've ever been outside of my own city is Virginia Beach, Virginia."
"Oh, you're from the colonies!" she exclaimed excitedly. She was starting to get on my nerves.
"Yes, I'm from the colonies, but they aren't called colonies any more. They're the United States of America, all 50 of them."
"No, there are only 13 colonies, still under English power, I'm certain of it." Warning, Fiona, you're stepping on dangerous ground, I thought. I didn't reply, just smiled. Boy did England have a surprise on its horizon.
"When was the last time you were in England?" I asked.
"Nine and a half years ago," she said.
"Well, there you go. A lot can happen in one year, let alone nine." I paused. "How old are you?" She looked mortified for a moment that I had even thought of asking such a question, then replied:
"Nearly 18." I couldn't help a wry smile – I was older than her by at least a year, and she still acted like she was 15. "Now, how old are you?"
"18 and a half."
"Elizabeth! Where are you?" came a voice down the hallway. She went to the door, opening it.
"Here, father, visiting with our patient." The Governor came in, and for his presence I was greatly relieved because I probably would have wrung Elizabeth's neck had I been alone with her any longer.
"Governor Swann," I said, sticking out my hand, "thank you very much for your hospitality." I shook his hand with a soft smile. "I'm not sure I deserve it. Considering I do not even know where I am, except a place called Port Royal, I am indebted to you for your kindness as I am a stranger." I had decided to put myself in an 18th century frame of mind and talk around him, as it would most likely suit my situation better.
"It was at my daughter's request that you were brought. As a father who loves his daughter greatly I could not resist her pleas. It still bewilders me as to why she insisted upon caring for you, but I have almost given up understanding her." Elizabeth grinned mischievously.
"Sir, where did you find me?"
"On the beach, with your belongings. We assumed you had been on a ship that had been attacked."
"No, I was not on a ship. I'm from the year 2004, far into the future."
"What? How is that possible?" he questioned, astounded.
"I do not know, sir, just that I went unconscious in 2004 and woke up here. I do not know how I came to be here."
"She is from the colonies, father, Virginia to be more specific," intruded Elizabeth.
"Virginia?"
"Yes, sir. I was on my way to Virginia Beach, to see my uncle."
"And your parents? You said they beat you. Did they play any part in your going to Virginia Beach?"
"They threw me out. I was forced to leave, I had no other choice. My uncle is the only other relative I have, the only one who accepts me."
Governor Swann was outwardly affronted, stunned that any parents would cast their children out into the streets. But I wasn't surprised – he barely knew the story of what had passed between my parents and me. If he asked, I would tell, but if he didn't, I would keep my life secrets my own.
"Well, you shall stay here until you are healed and able to discover a way back to your home and time," Governor Swann decided. "Please, do not hesitate to request anything you might need."
"Thank you, Governor, but I do not want to trespass any more on you. You have given enough in allowing me to stay here." And I do not think I want to go home, I added to myself. He smiled, inclining his head.
"Dinner shall be served in an hour. Elizabeth...." He raised his eyebrows, indicating something to her. He then left, leaving me alone with the annoying young woman. I sighed, leaning on the guitar, feeling queasy.
"If you will excuse me, Miss Swann, I need some rest. Will you make sure I'm up in time to get ready for dinner?"
"Of course." She smiled, taking her leave.
I curled up on the bed, wondering what the hell was happening to me.
Here is my song for the asking
Ask me and I will play
So sweetly, I'll make you smile
This is my tune for the taking
Take it, don't turn away
I've been waiting all my life
Disclaimer: Lyrics by Simon and Garfunkel, "Song for the Asking"