Sunshine Island

Chapter Three

As I peered around the corner, I was surprised to see it was already dusk on the island. I had been in the library longer than I had thought, and I wanted to kick myself for being out so late. I rolled up my sleeves and pulled my braids back over my shoulder and pushed forward down the path, back onto the boardwalk.

"Bit late, are we Mags?"

I threw a smile over my shoulder and waved at the barber, who doubled as the shop owner on the little island, Gil. Mother had treated his hands when they had cramped three years before. He hadn't necessarily needed treatment since, but he threw the begrudged greeting toward me whenever I walked past. I appreciated the greeting, but I hated the pity. Still, some sort of hello was better than nothing at all, so I smiled as I spoke. 

"On my way now!"

"Straight home, lass!"

I waved again and kept on my way, breathing in salt air and embracing the remnants of the warmest sunlight as it trickled across the edge of the ocean.

"Wondering where you were, girl," the croaking voice of Madame Nance called. Now, Madame Nance was a curious sort of person. Mother treated her for the Island Sun Pox two years ago, just before she had passed on. Madame Nance believed it within her power to protect and "educate" me-- generally, she tried to get the others to get along with me, but recently, she had stopped trying. Instead, I stopped by her porch every night, delivered something from my excursions, and let her quiz me on my studies. 

I skipped up the steps of her porch and dug into my pockets.

"What'd you bring me, eh?"

I pulled the seashell out of my pocket and showed it to her. She held it up in the dying light and inspected with a gap-toothed smile. I dove into the basket near her chair and pulled out a long piece of red string. She handed the shell back to me and I told her three new Latin words I had learned that day while I tied the shell to the string and then the string to her ever-growing collection of wind chimes. 

I was running late already, so I apologized as I hopped off the porch with a wave and built my pace back up. I had a few friends on the island, though I couldn't claim them for myself. They were my mother's most faithful customers, and I was sure they were hoping I'd be a little help to them as well. It was a twenty-minute walk back home and with a new batch of sailors wandering the island, I wouldn't want to do it in the dark. I was almost past the last building on the boardwalk and on the path up the golden hill that led into the jungle when I heard a gruff voice call after me.

"Oi, lass!"

I hesitantly looked around and caught eyes with Henry, the bar and hotel owner. I pointed at myself in confusion and he nodded and motioned me over. I hitched up my skirts a bit and softly jogged over.

"You're Hallie's girl, aren't you?"

I nodded, battling between my anxiousness and pride at being recognized.

"I've got a boy here who thought he was all kinds of tough stuff. Needs a few stitches. Can you lend a hand?"

All hesitancies flew away and I was overcome with a kind of gruesome eagerness. I dug into my pocket and showed him the small packet of needles and threading I kept for such an occasion.

Henry led me into his establishment, to the bar, where a young man from a ship we'd seen port twice before saw, cradling his arm. I sat down next to him and held my hand out for his arm.

"You ain't gonna hurt me, are ya?" he said, clinging to his arm stubbornly. Henry smacked the boy over his head and pointed at him.

"If you're dumb enough to crack a bottle and start'a fight, you're man enough to get a few stitches. Don't you keep bleedin' on my counter, you idiot."