Captain Maynard Hawk swaggered into the Three Dead Men, followed by his
first mate, a burly man with a patch covering one eye. Maynard didn't know
how he had lost that eye, but there was no point in asking. It didn't
really matter; other pirates on his ship had stranger scars.
"See about some of them fellows over there, Binks," he said, indicating a table of men nearby. "I'll get us some drinks."
Binks nodded and headed over toward the group with a smile, slapping the back of one whom he was apparently acquainted with. Maynard noted in the back of his mind that that was lucky. The man would most likely join up with his friend's crew, and his other friends would probably follow his lead and accept the job offer, and he'd have a crew in no time.
Maynard sidled up to the counter and smacked his hand down on the surface with a shout of, "Give us some rum!"
Almost immediately, a bottle appeared before him. He looked up at the man who had given it to him. He was a lanky man with scraggly black hair. He narrowed his eyes at him. "Yer not Jack."
"No sir," the man replied. "I'm Tom Cardigy. Jack's me... ah... assistant."
"I see. Well, where is the lad? Got the night off?"
"An' jus' what do you want with him, Mister Pirate?" said a woman, shoving Tom out of the way, hands on her hips. She was very a very attractive woman, in her thirties, Maynard guessed, with dark eyes and dark hair pinned up loosely, a few strands falling out into her face.
"That's Captain Pirate to you, Miss," he smirked, taking a sip of his rum, then stopping when he got a good look at her. He squinted at her. "Beth?"
"Aye, Bethany Thompson." She narrowed her eyes. "And you be Captain Hawk, eh?"
"Why do ye say it like a question? Ye know me! Sure, it's been a few years, but.." his voice trailed off and his eyes met hers. "I certainly 'avn't forgotten--"
"What do you want with my son?" she asked abruptly, cutting him off.
"Ah, right. Back to Jack. Clever little lad, inne?"
"Hmm, not the word I'd use," she mumbled dryly. He raised an amused eyebrow and she elaborated. "I'd probly say somethin' more along the lines of bloody troublesome, provoking, impetuous, crude, dishonest, mischievous, disobedient, lazy, ungrateful..."
"Alright, I get it," he said, cutting her off with a laugh. "Alrigh' so he's a piece o' work. Still, ye've got to add "cunning" and "charming" to that list, Beth, you must admit."
"And jus' 'ow do you know so much about my son, Captain?"
"Well, came here for a drink last night, and the lad got up an-"
"Oh, Mother of God," she cut in irritably. "I don' wanna' 'ear anymore about' that particular incident, if you please. I've talked to 'im already 'bout it."
"Actually," said Maynard with a lopsided grin, "I thought it rather amusing meself."
Bethany threw him a searing glare, which caused him to cough and attempt looking serious.
"You know, Mayne, I never took you for the type, honestly, but if thas 'ow it is with you, I am sorry to inform you that Jack will be staying behind this 'ere counter till 'es about thirty-five, savvy?"
The pirate's eyebrows flew upward under his hat, then quickly furrowed low on his forehead. "That seems a wee bit harsh," he murmured. "Hang on." He cocked his head to the side and held up his forefinger. "Did you just imply what I think you did?"
Bethany shrugged her shoulders and smirked. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got better things to do than stand 'ere talkin' to a dirty pirate," she said, turning away.
"Pirate captain, Beth, love!" he insisted, following her and clambering onto the other side of the counter. "And you really shouldn't be talking," he muttered.
Her mouth opened in appalled indignation and she glared at him poisonously. "Don't call me that," she muttered, grabbing a rag and wiping off a large spill on the counter.
He sighed and watched her wearily. A long moment passed in silence, until she couldn't help but meet his patient gaze. "What do you bloody want?"
"I want the boy," he said seriously. "I want to take him on my ship."
"E's too young!" she cried. "What good would 'e be to you?"
"He'll be a damn good pirate someday."
"Well, some day's not now."
"Why shouldn't it be?" he asked.
"He's only a child, Mayne," she insisted slowly.
"He's a young man. Twelve's a regular age for cabin boys," he argued. "And before long he'll be old enough to really be helpful. He's got a lot of potential. Smarter than some men I've known five times his age."
"'Ow can you know that? You've jus' met 'im."
"I can tell," he said. "I've only known him one night, but I feel I know him. It's like..." He paused and looked at her very seriously, his crystal eyes boring into hers. "Tell me, Beth... He's mine, isn't he?"
A long pause followed as Beth stared into those blue eyes, unable to speak. Those twinkling eyes that would glint mischievously, which had once filled her with such joy... Those searing, intense eyes that made her feel powerless.. Those cold eyes of steel that left her feeling passed over, unimportant, empty... She had been such a silly girl back then. She knew better now. Do not get involved or attached to customers; he had taught her that rule. She looked away and sighed.
"I don't know."
He looked at her imploringly.
"I don't know!" she repeated. She paused and looked at him, asking, almost wearily, "Would you still take 'im if I said no?"
He pursed his lips doubtfully, but nodded. "'E'll still make a great man someday, be he mine or no. But... I would like to know."
She nodded sadly. "Well... 'E might be. I don' know for sure, you know. But.." she sighed. "It's likely. More likely than anyone else."
He nodded curtly and looked away, staring blindly at the ground. That boy was his son, he knew it, he could feel it. He had to be. He was a father! A father all these years and he didn't know it. And a father of such a boy. He felt pride swelling up in him. He could teach this boy everything he knew, take him under his wing. Hawk and son out on the high seas, together they'd be unstoppable. He smiled and shook himself out of his daydreams. Bethany was watching him carefully, a hint of sadness in her face.
"I knew you'd come and take him away someday," she said, her eyes becoming moist. "I jus' didn't know it'd be so soon."
"You've had twelve years with him," he said softly, looking at her with some compassion.
"Twelve years. I'm not sure whether that seems an eternity or a day," she managed, the tears coming in earnest now. She seemed younger, somehow, as she cried, and helpless. "Oh, the grey hair's e's given me... But it'll be so quiet when 'e's gone... I'll miss 'im so much... An' I've been so beastly to 'im..."
"Shh, it's alright, love," Maynard whispered, taking her into his arms. For a moment, she gave in and cried into his shirt, but then she pulled back resolutely and stood upright, wiping her eyes. He watched her awkwardly, not knowing quite what to do. She seemed to have composed herself however, so he folded his arms and asked hesitantly, "May I see him?"
"See about some of them fellows over there, Binks," he said, indicating a table of men nearby. "I'll get us some drinks."
Binks nodded and headed over toward the group with a smile, slapping the back of one whom he was apparently acquainted with. Maynard noted in the back of his mind that that was lucky. The man would most likely join up with his friend's crew, and his other friends would probably follow his lead and accept the job offer, and he'd have a crew in no time.
Maynard sidled up to the counter and smacked his hand down on the surface with a shout of, "Give us some rum!"
Almost immediately, a bottle appeared before him. He looked up at the man who had given it to him. He was a lanky man with scraggly black hair. He narrowed his eyes at him. "Yer not Jack."
"No sir," the man replied. "I'm Tom Cardigy. Jack's me... ah... assistant."
"I see. Well, where is the lad? Got the night off?"
"An' jus' what do you want with him, Mister Pirate?" said a woman, shoving Tom out of the way, hands on her hips. She was very a very attractive woman, in her thirties, Maynard guessed, with dark eyes and dark hair pinned up loosely, a few strands falling out into her face.
"That's Captain Pirate to you, Miss," he smirked, taking a sip of his rum, then stopping when he got a good look at her. He squinted at her. "Beth?"
"Aye, Bethany Thompson." She narrowed her eyes. "And you be Captain Hawk, eh?"
"Why do ye say it like a question? Ye know me! Sure, it's been a few years, but.." his voice trailed off and his eyes met hers. "I certainly 'avn't forgotten--"
"What do you want with my son?" she asked abruptly, cutting him off.
"Ah, right. Back to Jack. Clever little lad, inne?"
"Hmm, not the word I'd use," she mumbled dryly. He raised an amused eyebrow and she elaborated. "I'd probly say somethin' more along the lines of bloody troublesome, provoking, impetuous, crude, dishonest, mischievous, disobedient, lazy, ungrateful..."
"Alright, I get it," he said, cutting her off with a laugh. "Alrigh' so he's a piece o' work. Still, ye've got to add "cunning" and "charming" to that list, Beth, you must admit."
"And jus' 'ow do you know so much about my son, Captain?"
"Well, came here for a drink last night, and the lad got up an-"
"Oh, Mother of God," she cut in irritably. "I don' wanna' 'ear anymore about' that particular incident, if you please. I've talked to 'im already 'bout it."
"Actually," said Maynard with a lopsided grin, "I thought it rather amusing meself."
Bethany threw him a searing glare, which caused him to cough and attempt looking serious.
"You know, Mayne, I never took you for the type, honestly, but if thas 'ow it is with you, I am sorry to inform you that Jack will be staying behind this 'ere counter till 'es about thirty-five, savvy?"
The pirate's eyebrows flew upward under his hat, then quickly furrowed low on his forehead. "That seems a wee bit harsh," he murmured. "Hang on." He cocked his head to the side and held up his forefinger. "Did you just imply what I think you did?"
Bethany shrugged her shoulders and smirked. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got better things to do than stand 'ere talkin' to a dirty pirate," she said, turning away.
"Pirate captain, Beth, love!" he insisted, following her and clambering onto the other side of the counter. "And you really shouldn't be talking," he muttered.
Her mouth opened in appalled indignation and she glared at him poisonously. "Don't call me that," she muttered, grabbing a rag and wiping off a large spill on the counter.
He sighed and watched her wearily. A long moment passed in silence, until she couldn't help but meet his patient gaze. "What do you bloody want?"
"I want the boy," he said seriously. "I want to take him on my ship."
"E's too young!" she cried. "What good would 'e be to you?"
"He'll be a damn good pirate someday."
"Well, some day's not now."
"Why shouldn't it be?" he asked.
"He's only a child, Mayne," she insisted slowly.
"He's a young man. Twelve's a regular age for cabin boys," he argued. "And before long he'll be old enough to really be helpful. He's got a lot of potential. Smarter than some men I've known five times his age."
"'Ow can you know that? You've jus' met 'im."
"I can tell," he said. "I've only known him one night, but I feel I know him. It's like..." He paused and looked at her very seriously, his crystal eyes boring into hers. "Tell me, Beth... He's mine, isn't he?"
A long pause followed as Beth stared into those blue eyes, unable to speak. Those twinkling eyes that would glint mischievously, which had once filled her with such joy... Those searing, intense eyes that made her feel powerless.. Those cold eyes of steel that left her feeling passed over, unimportant, empty... She had been such a silly girl back then. She knew better now. Do not get involved or attached to customers; he had taught her that rule. She looked away and sighed.
"I don't know."
He looked at her imploringly.
"I don't know!" she repeated. She paused and looked at him, asking, almost wearily, "Would you still take 'im if I said no?"
He pursed his lips doubtfully, but nodded. "'E'll still make a great man someday, be he mine or no. But... I would like to know."
She nodded sadly. "Well... 'E might be. I don' know for sure, you know. But.." she sighed. "It's likely. More likely than anyone else."
He nodded curtly and looked away, staring blindly at the ground. That boy was his son, he knew it, he could feel it. He had to be. He was a father! A father all these years and he didn't know it. And a father of such a boy. He felt pride swelling up in him. He could teach this boy everything he knew, take him under his wing. Hawk and son out on the high seas, together they'd be unstoppable. He smiled and shook himself out of his daydreams. Bethany was watching him carefully, a hint of sadness in her face.
"I knew you'd come and take him away someday," she said, her eyes becoming moist. "I jus' didn't know it'd be so soon."
"You've had twelve years with him," he said softly, looking at her with some compassion.
"Twelve years. I'm not sure whether that seems an eternity or a day," she managed, the tears coming in earnest now. She seemed younger, somehow, as she cried, and helpless. "Oh, the grey hair's e's given me... But it'll be so quiet when 'e's gone... I'll miss 'im so much... An' I've been so beastly to 'im..."
"Shh, it's alright, love," Maynard whispered, taking her into his arms. For a moment, she gave in and cried into his shirt, but then she pulled back resolutely and stood upright, wiping her eyes. He watched her awkwardly, not knowing quite what to do. She seemed to have composed herself however, so he folded his arms and asked hesitantly, "May I see him?"