Chapter 9 #2
“The kid’s right,” a voice calls out from high on the mast. I startle when I see a man sitting on one of the beams, lounging in the sun.
He grabs a rope and swings down to the next level, descending the mast as if it is the easiest thing in the world. He stands on the lowest crossbeam, holding onto the mainmast on the opposite side of Fin.
“He’s a natural,” he says before he jumps down to the deck, feet slamming into the floorboards, causing them to vibrate under my boots.
“Name’s Jorn,” he says and extends a hand out to me. I take it warily and shake it.
“Lennox.”
He nods at the bucket and brush I left in the middle of the deck. “What’d you do to piss Captain off, huh?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Exist?”
That elicits a laugh, and I find myself unable to contain a smile for the first time with one of the Castaways.
“I’m sure there’s a reason. Captain has a reason for everything he does.”
“Just because he has a reason, doesn’t mean it’s a good one,” I counter.
“Point taken,” he says, bowing his head slightly to me. “Maybe if you’re nice, I’ll tell you where he hid the mop.” He winks, and I can’t tell if that’s just the way he is or if he is trying to shamelessly flirt with me. Either way, I ignore it.
I cross my arms over my chest. “How about you just tell me, so I can get done and stick it to him?”
“Lennox! Look at me!” Fin calls from even higher on the mast, interrupting our conversation. I shield my eyes and crane my neck to see him climbing into the crow’s nest at the very top.
“Is he really supposed to be up there?” I ask, not taking my eyes off the structure with a wildly waving Fin sticking out of the hole in the bottom.
“He doesn’t need to be right now, but yes. It’s his job to use the helio when Captain tells him to.”
“What’s the helio?” I ask. I’ve never heard that word before, and am curious what it is and why it needs to be all the way at the top of the mast.
“They haven’t told you yet?”
I shake my head.
“Makes sense if you aren’t on shift yet, you have no reason to know.
But you’re asking, so I’ll tell you.” He leans his back against the mast and crosses his ankles in front of him.
“It’s how we communicate with anyone who isn’t on the ship.
It’s Fin’s job to send out the signal when Captain gives the order. ”
He ticks off his fingers as he recites, “Stay put, come home, and meet…somewhere.” His eyes dart away from me, a clear tell that he is hiding something, but I don’t ask. He’s offering so much already, I don’t want to seem like I am prying for more.
“So how does it signal?” I ask.
He points to the sky. “See the suns? Each one reflects a different color. So each signal has its own color.”
“That doesn’t make sense. You said there are three signals, but there are only two suns.”
He claps his hands loudly, and I jump at the sudden sound.
“Mix ‘em together,” he says, his voice lilting in a singsong way.
I file the information away in my mind, not for when I need to know it, but to bring back to Dane. Knowing how the Castaways communicate on the island is a tremendous advantage, especially if we can’t see the ship.
A question pops into my mind, something that doesn’t make sense with his explanation. If what he said is true, that means there are Castaways on the island, right now, in the middle of the day.
“Wait, I thought you only went out at night?”
“That’s what they want you to think.” He winks at me again and turns back toward the mast, looking up at Fin hanging over the side of the crow’s nest.
That’s why the ship seemed a little empty today. The Castaways travel through tunnels, so they don’t have to only be out at night, and if Weston needs to communicate with them, he uses light signals.
It’s all actually really well thought out, but I still can’t understand why the island is helping them accomplish it without being caught. I hope it is only a matter of time before I find out where they hide.
“Well, it was nice officially meeting you, Lennox. I’m going to go get the bird in the nest up there, but we’ll talk soon. Just make sure not to piss Captain off too bad. We don’t like it when he’s grumpy.”
“I’ll do my best,” I say and watch as Jorn jumps up and grabs the cross beam, hoisting himself over it then scaling the central wooden pole.
Standing alone on the deck is the cue I need that my break is over. I drop back down on the deck next to the bucket and reach for the brush. My body protests strongly, and a wave of exhaustion crashes over me before I have even started again.
It suddenly dawns on me what Weston is trying to do with this stunt. Sure, he told Sig it was to punish me for my hunger strike in the brig, but there’s more to it than that.
He’s trying to exhaust me, to work me as hard as he can without being conspicuous, so I will be too tired to try to escape. He wants me to fall into bed and go right to sleep, unable to move from the manual labor he forced on me today and every day in the future.
If he thinks this manipulation is going to work, he’s wrong. If anything, it makes me want to do something about it even sooner. If he thinks I’m too exhausted, then maybe this is the best opportunity to try.
Right when he least expects it.
I shift to all fours and scrub the wood until it is sudsy. As I stare into the bubbles, I realize that Jorn never actually told me where Weston hid the mop.