Part one—Split
Coming home
All children grow up, and some sooner than they should. Jim Hawkins rubbed his weary eyes and turned down the lamp at his writing table. He set down his pen and blotted the wet ink, then gathered up the papers and arranged them in a worn, leather bound cover that Squire Trelawney had given him. The squire and Dr. Livesey would be pleased that he had finally finished the task. He walked to the sea-chest that he had brought to school and his mind drifted to the day he had first seen it, following behind the old brown seaman. Jim ran his hand over the dark letter "B" that had been burned on the top. "Billy Bones"
Memories of the captain still haunted him. In his dreams the long, white sabre cut along the cheek stretched back and forth in a little dance to the echoing chant of that infernal song which flowed continuously from the captain's lips: "Fifteen men on the dead man's chest - Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!" Jim carefully pulled out the rusty old key that was dangling on a chain he kept securely around his neck and slid it into the lock; one quick turn to the right and the chest clicked open. Even after all this time, it still had a strong smell of tobacco and tar. He tied the leather bound pages shut and carefully placed them in the bottom of the chest near the oilskin packet that still held the account-book and Flints map. For Jim, the map no longer carried any importance, other than as a keepsake, because he remembered it all so vividly. He remembered every hill, every bay, every inlet and every other physical feature of the island. He also remembered the bearings; the latitude and longitude and the particular directions that were needed to bring a ship safely to its shores. It was etched so deep in his memory; Jim doubted he could forget it even if he tried. Lately, he had begun to try.
The school year had gone quickly and Jim was looking forward to going home and seeing his mother. She still kept the Admiral Benbow Inn, up on Black Hill Cove, and right off the coast road that leads to Bristol. It was a great deal of work since his father had died, because the tavern had gained some popularity recently with the exaggerated stories of the old captain and the treasure being gossiped around the area. For a while, business was so good that Jim's mother, Alice, needed to hire some temporary kitchen help.
Even though the squire already had the Inn repaired and repainted, Jim had wanted to use his treasure money to really fix up the old place and make it look like new. But, the squire had a different plan. At nearly thirteen, Jim was still considered very young, and Mr. Trelawney had thought that the financial management of his share of the treasure would prove to be too difficult for a mere boy. "Without the guidance of your father, I fear that you will end up squandering your good fortune. I feel that it is my duty to help you become a man of good standing. When you get older you will realize the truth in what I say; getting an education is the most important thing you can do with your money. I have made arrangements to enroll you in Balliol. " he said. The idea of going to school was an exciting prospect for Jim, but his mother could only find cause to worry and lament. She was not sold on the idea and needed a great deal of convincing. The squire would not take no for an answer and between the two of them, they were finally able to settle the matter. Jim would use his treasure money to go to school. He had only been home for less than a month when he was forced to leave for Oxford.
Before he left, Jim pleaded with the squire to release a bit of his treasure so that his mother could at least expand the tavern, repair the old fireplace in the parlour and add a new stable. The squire reluctantly agreed and eventually saw the good in it. Before too long, he actually started thinking of it as his idea and took control of the entire project. As Jim was leaving, the work was really just getting started.
Jim had not felt good about leaving his mother; he did not like the idea of her being alone. It was a decision that weighed heavily on his conscience. Before he closed the trunk, he grabbed a few library books on poetry that he wanted to take home for the summer and placed them on a pile of clothes. Folded neatly on the very top, Jim noticed the old worn coat that belonged to his father. Closing his eyes, he recalled how caring, attentive and patient the man was. Jim missed his father very much. One thing that Jim knew with certainty; his father would have been proud that he was going to school. It was one of the reasons his mother finally let him go. Jim marveled at how good a father he was and wondered at that because the man never knew his own parents and had nothing to model his own actions from. Until the age of twelve, he was raised in the country by a nurse named Beatrice. She was a very nice old lady and Jim loved it when she visited. Coming all the way from London, Beatrice and her daughter Emily had attended the funeral. Emily and his father had been as close as brother and sister growing up. The memory of the day he died was still painful and Jim had to hold back from sobbing. He cleared his throat, whipped his eyes, and was resolved to not cry; he was too old to cry. The memories were still so fresh; it felt like it was only yesterday. Everything seemed to have happened so quickly after his father's death that he often felt as if he had not had a proper time to accept it. These memories made him more homesick than ever. He wanted to see his mother again, and he wanted his father back.
The homecoming was a celebration to be remembered; everyone in the Hamlet came. Jim liked the attention and called for glasses all around before he asked if everyone would be interested in hearing some stories. One in particular that seemed to entertain the crowd was a funny tale that happened on the field during a game of football. Jim was not exceptionally athletic, but this game was new and getting quite popular. After a brief description of how it is played, he told the story from start to end with a great deal of spirit and enthusiasm,
"I was waiting for an opportunity to play and I became a little bored and hungry and I tried to sneak some food. While I was eating a small piece of pork loin that had been dipped quite liberally in mustard, I was suddenly caught off guard when the captain told me to get in the game. I threw the meat to the ground and wiped my hands off on my pants and then ran out onto the field and took my position. I was not quite sure what I was supposed to be doing, as the rules tend to vary game by game. So, during the next play, I attempted to set a block and I was tripped and twisted my ankle. It was quite painful and I called for a replacement and motioned for assistance to get off the field. The captain came rushing out to check on the injury and saw a quite a mess. He started yelling for bandages, thinking I was bleeding. When he saw my confusion, he asked where I was hurt, and I pointed to my ankle. He pointed to my thigh and asked what the thick, ozzing yellow stain was, and I told him it was mustard. He laughed, and then he looked quite relieved and admitted that he was a little shocked thinking that I had some sort of blood disorder and that my blood was yellow." Jim laughed and then continued. "The story was so funny that everyone at Balliol heard it and there are now rumors around school that my blood is actually yellow."
Jim also told them some stories about his tutors and his studies, but before long, it became apparent that the people were not there to hear about school and they started asking questions about the adventures to the island of treasure. Jim was happy to oblige.
The party lasted well into the night and eventually Alice had to tell the people that the tavern was closed. When everyone had left, Jim finally got to spend some time with his mother. She seemed so sad and alone. "The Inn looks great mom" he said. "The squire did a fine job." His mother just sat there staring at him; she was smiling and crying at the same time and pulled him into an embrace. They had never really talked about his father's death, and apparently the topic was still too sorrowful. As much as he wanted to, Jim knew he wasn't going back to Oxford in the fall; he could not leave his poor mother alone. She needed him.