Uncle Hector decreed everyone take the rest of the day off, except for Wendell. He would be testing the solution he had concocted from the sap of various trees to make sure it would hold water. As they left the beach, Uncle Hector put his arm around Samantha's shoulder. "You did really good, kid."
"The others did a lot too."
"But you're the leader. To think a girl your age is running an island like this. Your parents would be so proud."
"You think so?"
"I know so. After all, I'm damned proud of you, so they would be even more so."
"Thanks."
"Now that I'm up and around, how about showing me your domain, Queen Lucinda?"
She giggled at this. "Sure, Prince Hector."
She let Prudence and Rebecca take the other children back to the church to rest. By now David and his hunters should have found something for them to eat. That was if he hadn't gone off to sulk for the rest of the day. Boys, she grumbled to herself.
At least Uncle Hector wasn't like them. But then he wasn't a boy; he was a man. She squeezed his hand as they walked along the path that wound down towards the barns and fields. "It looks like we'll be going alone," she said.
"Why's that? Your friends don't want to come?"
"They're scared. Eternity is all they know."
"They don't remember anything from where they came from?"
"No. Reverend Crane had some kind of potion to wipe their memories. Plus at times he would make most of them into infants. When they're too small they can't hold on to the old memories."
"Is that potion what he used on you?"
"I think so, but it didn't work right. I can still remember some things." She looked down at her feet as they reached the fields. "Sometimes my body will do things on its own. It's like who I used to be-Lucinda-will just take over and make me do things."
"What sort of things?"
"Fighting, mostly. Did I fight a lot on the mainland?"
"You got into your scrapes. Not everyone in Maine is so accepting of a little Hispanic girl."
"Hispanic?"
"It means you're of Spanish ancestry. Spain is a country that's very far away."
"Was my mother Spanish?"
"No. She was American, just like me. Your grandparents, they came to America from Cuba a long time ago." Before she could ask, he elaborated, "Cuba is an island, a bit bigger than this one. It's over a thousand miles south of here."
"Why did they leave Cuba?"
"Some bad people took over. So they left and went to Miami. That's in America. It's a long way from Maine, but someday we'll go there so you can see where your mom and I grew up."