V
My head hurts. My head hurts a lot. Why does my head hurt so much? My throat hurts more though. I must have swallowed wrong. It must have been that stew. Ehck! That's the last time I eat Bonzabeast stew. It was probably a bone from his "family" recipe. I hate that stew anyway. It won't stop hurting. My throat hurts. Actually, so does my nose. Why do I feel so tired? I can't move anything. Why can't I move anything? Great. Just perfect. Everything hurts and I can't move anything. I feel so heavy. I don't want to think anymore. Wait, I can't even open my eyes. Oh well, since I'm lying on something soft—why am I laying on something soft? I don't have a pillow or a bed. I feel like I'm at home lying in bed. Wait a minute. Oh yeah, Scroop. I forgot about that psycho. I think I'm still lying in the captain's cabin. Yeah, I must still be laying there. Well I don't feel like opening my eyes anyway so I'm glad I can't. I'll probably be kicked out if I do and I'm actually kinda really comfortable and warm. I'm warm. I can't remember the last time I was warm. Ow! Swallowing hurts. Swallowing hurts a lot. I feel weak now. I feel really, really weak. Maybe that's why I can't move anything. But I'm so tired. Eh. Now there is a white light. It's not helping my head. Go away. Ow! Ow! OW! Why does moving my head hurt so much? I barely moved it. It's my throat. I can't move my throat and I can't swallow. Well I can swallow, but it hurts a lot. My arm hurts. Obviously my arm hurts. It's broken. Broken bones do hurt. I can't move my arm. Ow, my throat hurts. My head hurts. My body hurts. I feel so heavy. Why does it smell clean? I know the captain is a female and women are obsessed with cleanliness, but it smells too clean here. The air smells fresh like it does back home after a rainstorm. Wait a minute? What is that other smell? It smells like medicine and alcohol. Well, I guess that's in here because of Scroop. He did break me. Did I—? Yeah, I told Silver about the map. Okay, I want to open my eyes now. I really want to wake up now. But I'm so weak. I want to wake up. Come on Jim, open your eyes. Please, come on. Jimbo open your eyes. Hello? Am I there? I want to wake up. I need to wake up. I can't wake up. What's going on? Who is holding my hand? It's not Silver. Someone with small hands is holding my hand. Who is sitting beside me? Wait, there is two people. Who are they? I think my eyes are open. There is a small figure sitting close beside me and someone else. Silver? What is that thing between them? Morph. I know that pink anywhere. But, who is the smaller person? That smaller person is holding my hand. I think. Yeah, it's the smaller one. Wait I know that voice.
"Jim, sweetheart. Open your eyes. It's all right. You're safe. Come on sweetheart, look at me. It's okay. You're going to be okay."
That's impossible. It's my mother. Why is my mother here? I'm not on the ship. Where am I? What happened? If my mother is here then I've out for months because it took us a few months to get to Treasure Planet. That is probably why I can't feel anything. My throat hurts. But why does my throat hurt? It's been months. Why does it still hurt? What happened to me? Okay, I'm blinking. I know I am. I can feel myself breathing. Come one just a little more. Wake up just a little more. You can do this.
At his bedside, Sarah was sitting in a comfortable chair with her knees pressed against his bed. Both her soft hands were pressing her son's hand between hers. She was leaning over the bed, close to his face hardly breathing. Her hair was a mess and uncombed for two weeks; it was braided behind her head in the same braid that had been there for over a week. She was also wearing the same clothes, however, Silver did manage to convince her to have them washed a few times. The lack of sleep and worry was worn on her face and eyes and also in her slow body movements. She did not leave her son's side for anything but the necessary functions and even then she was told to go take care of it. Food was delivered and she often did not eat. Her eyes were always moist as they waited for him to wake.
Beside her, Silver sat in his own chair with the joy and excitement fighting to stay away from his face, but the smile of relief and love was gently across his lips. He looked much better compared to Sarah, more put together. Only Morph would know of the few times he broke down while Sarah was asleep and Morph of course couldn't talk so he was safe. He had a reputation to maintain and a little emotion would dampen it. It was he who had to be the stronger of the two and he would be the stronger of the two.
"Mom," Jim called through his grogginess.
Sarah sat herself beside him on his bed and held his hand tighter. She nodded her head. "I'm here sweetheart."
"Silver?" Jim asked softly.
"I'm here too lad," replied Silver, occupying Sarah's former chair.
Morph, in a great fluster, floated in circles to nuzzle against Jim's cheek and his little arms wrapped around his neck. He purred and chirped.
"Morph, you're unmistakable," noted Jim.
Hearing him talk, Morph went into a great fluster and flew about the room in pieces resembling miniatures of himself all spinning in wild circles. Content with his excitement, he settled himself burrowed against Jim's neck.
"Where am I?" Jim asked, not too loudly because of his sore throat.
"The Spaceport," replied Sarah. "You're in a hospital at the Spaceport. You've been here for two weeks."
Jim's eyes narrowed in wonder. They searched around the room as if for answers yet knowing they would not be found. It was nearly two month to Treasure Planet. "Then I've been out for over two months," he said, hoping his comment would answer his question.
"Jimbo, ye've only been out fer two weeks," said Silver.
"But it was almost two months to Treasure Planet," noted Jim.
"Don't ye remember lad? Th' treasure map was a key ta a portal where th' treasure was stored," reminded Silver.
Jim's eyes lit. "You mean there was treasure? You mean to say that Captain Flint's treasure exists?"
It was Silver's turn for his eyes to narrow in thought and wonder. He raised himself from the chair he was seated upon to seat himself on the other side of Jim, which happened to be his left side. His eyes momentarily made note of the shape beneath the blanket.
"What be th' last thing ye remember?" he asked.
"You and I talking in the Captain's Cabin. I think," replied Jim.
"Oh," was Silver's reply as he turned away.
Jim sighed as he shut his eyes. He weakly wrapped his right hand around his neck. "Why does my throat hurt?"
Sarah brought her hands to her face as she slumped low in her chair. Livesey told her he would feel no pain or have any knowledge of what they had to do to keep him alive. Yes, she would admit her son looked healthier than he did when she first saw him, but he was in pain from that stupid thing that kept him alive. She couldn't even think of what they had to do to him.
"Jim," began Silver, leaning over him. "We have th' treasure lad. I brought back three chests of it. We found th' treasure."
"Are you sure?" Jim asked, his eyes wandering as if searching his mind for the memories. "I don't remember."
Silver nodded. "There is a lot ye don't know lad."
"Don't tell him. He just woke up," Sarah pleaded.
"Better ta tell him an' explain rather than let th' lad find out fer himself," said Silver.
Sarah shook her head as warm tears stung in her eyes. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Her son just came back to her and she knew the moment he was told about his arm he would lose himself in his grief and sadness and fright. She wanted just one day with her son. Just one. It was all she wanted for two weeks of waiting.
"Tell me what?" asked Jim, his eyes slowly turning between the two of them.
"Jim, can I ask ya a question tha' I've been wondering?" began Silver.
"Sure," replied Jim.
"Wha' do ye think of all this?" asked Silver, motioning to the right side of his body.
"It's you," said Jim. He looked at him. "I never thought it was odd really. I just thought Cyborg. That's all. I've always known you like that so it is no different."
"Are ye sure?" wondered Silver.
"I don't like where this is going," Jim told the two of them and turning to his mother. His face was losing color and the pulsing vein in his neck was more visible.
Sarah and Silver looked at each other with the same thought in mind. Who is going to tell him? She shook her head and turned away. It was only right that Silver told him.
"Jim, ye know yer arm was broken," began Silver. Jim nodded. "Scroop broke yer arm again."
"That would explain why it hurts," noted Jim.
"An' he got ta ye again lad. He threw ye from th' boat. As we were leavin' th' portal ta th' treasure, Scroop threw ye. Ye were already coming down with gangrene in yer arm lad," continued Silver.
"What is that? Gangrene. What is it?" wondered Jim.
"Ye really don' know anything about spacing do ye lad?" asked Silver with a chuckle.
Jim smiled. "I guess you didn't teach me enough," he joked.
"It's something tha' happens with broken bones. Yer arm was broken in two places lad. Ye also had blood poisoning going up yer arm," continued Silver.
"That's bad," Jim said to himself.
He coughed roughly and dryly and his amount of coughing he did and lack of breath caused him to choke a bit. His face pressed into the pillow and his fingers tightened around his mother's hand, squeezing tightly hoping the pain would go away soon. After a few moments, his throat was twice as sore and he did nothing but breathe since that was all he could do.
Across the room, there was a few light taps before Livesey's voice. "Everything all right?"
"He's coughing," replied Silver.
"He's awake," noted Livesey and he quickly made his way to the teenager's side. He knelt to Jim's head level. "What hurts the most?"
Jim's halfway opened eyes and pained, wrinkled forehead looked at him.
"I think that means everything," replied Sarah.
"Ye told us tha' he wouldn't feel those little tubes," reminded Silver.
"I said he shouldn't. Shouldn't means he may," Livesey told them. He brushed his fingers along the sides of Jim's neck, slightly pushing inward and the teenager did show signs of pain. "His throat hurts the most like I thought it would, but that will be relieved when he eats and drinks. How does your arm feel?"
"Hurts," Jim replied softly.
Livesey sat up and leaned over to Sarah's ear. "Have you told him yet?"
"I can't," replied Sarah.
"Do you want me to do it?" Livesey asked.
"I think he would take it better if John told him," Sarah told him.
Livesey nodded. He turned his attention back to the hurting teenager. "Do you want something for the pain?"
"I'll be fine," Jim told him, attempting to put his usual emotionless, "I don't care" expression on his face, but failed miserably. He did want something for the pain. His throat was killing him and his arm hurt.
"Okay," replied Livesey. He gave a nod. "You have no idea who I am do you?"
"I would shake my head but that hurts," replied Jim.
"A simple 'no' would have sufficed," Livesey told him. "Well, I know everything about you so no introductions to your part are needed. I am David Livesey and your doctor, physician, surgeon—whichever you want to call it. I'll be in a couple times a day to check on you, but if you need anything just holler. Although, I think your mother and Silver have it taken care of. Just know I did what I could and living life is better than no life at all."
Silver shut his eyes. A long time ago, someone said similar words to him. Long ago, he found himself in Jim's position with the same frightened, confused, hurt expression on his face that pleaded for answers, yet did not want answers at all. How could he tell him? He was told by the surgeon that took care of him not by his mentor. Perhaps, since he was going to tell Jim and Jim did look up to him, it would be taken better.
"Jimbo, give me yer hand," he said, knowing of no other way to begin this.
Jim weakly moved his hand across his chest, but he soon discovered that was as far as he could move his hand. He simply did not have the strength to do much.
Seeing the lack of strength the teenager had, Silver gently took Jim's hand and pressed his fingertips against his forehead. He saw the expression of hurt and pain change to wonder and confusion as Jim's fingers sensed something that was not skin on his forehead. Nope.
Skin was not smooth and slick and cold. Skin was rough and soft and warm. The material that was not skin wrapped around his head a bit further. He traced the skin and non-skin feelings realizing it was there for a reason.
"Tha' would be Scroop's doin'," Silver explained. "Ye smacked yer head on metal lad an' cracked yer skull."
"Mom," Jim whispered, turning his eyes to her.
Sarah forced a smile on her trembling lips, but the tears in her eyes were not convincing that he was all right. "You would have died if that wasn't there."
"I have a metal plate in my head?" Jim asked.
"Literally," replied Silver.
"And you can see it?" Jim asked.
Sarah nodded. "It's not as bad as you think Sweetheart. You're young. David said it'll heal very well."
"I want to see it," Jim told them softly.
"No, not yet," Sarah said, grabbing his hand.
"Okay," replied Silver.
"No!" Sarah told him.
"Sarah, from me own experience its better jus' ta let th' lad see it rather than ta jus' let him wonder an' wait," said Silver. He stood and went limping around again.
"Why are you limping?" Jim asked. Silver stopped and turned to him with a raised eyebrow. Jim looked away, remembering that was his doing. "Sorry."
"Forget me lad. It's ye who needs ta have th' worry upon," Silver said.
"I don't even like my own mother worrying about me," Jim told him.
Silver laughed. "Ye may want ta be getting used ta people worrying about ye lad."
"Will you two just tell me what is going on?" Jim pleaded, his voice cracking and trembling.
Sarah pressed her lips against his forehead in the attempt to comfort him. Thankfully, it worked. She looked at her son and cupped his cheek in her palm. The connection she lost with him was beginning to come back. Was that the son she left behind years and years ago, he would have pulled from that kiss immediately and not lean his head and embrace it. He was looking at her with a thousand apologies, apologizing for something he did not know, yet his eyes were looking at her pleadingly.
"You'll be okay," she told him. "You'll see. We'll make this work. The three of us will make this work."
"Three?" wondered Jim.
"You, me, and John. He's staying with us to help you heal up and help us rebuild our home," said Sarah.
Jim's eyes turned from his mother and observed John Silver. Now that he looked at him, he noticed the old scallywag was clean and presentable. His change of clothes gave him the impression that he was merely an old Cyborg with a normal life. His and Silver's eyes met when Silver turned around with a mirror in his hand.
"You're staying?" he asked.
"Yeah," replied Silver. "Yer gonna need me."
Jim's eyes lowered as he thought a moment. "Then you were on my side the entire time?"
"'Course I was. I care about ye," replied Silver. He resumed his place at Jim's left side. "Now, it's not as bad as ye think all right? It's still rough an' healing so it looks something fierce right now. It'll be cleaner an' more natural when yer all healed up."
"Let me see it," Jim softly requested.
Silver glanced at Sarah then turned the reflective glass around.
The skin was raw and surrounding the metal appeared bloody yet. After two weeks his head still had the appearance of a severe injury.
"Mom, it's half my forehead. It's bad," said Jim, turning his head, despite the pain, into the pillow to hide it. He only made two points about his injury and that was enough for him. He wanted to see no more.
"Tha's not all lad," Silver said softly. "Remember me telling ye about yer arm?"
"What's wrong with my arm?" Jim asked.
Silver drew a deep breath. His words of "the longer you wait the worse it will be" were beginning to become his former philosophy. The longer he waited the more he could continue to tell himself that it didn't happen. For the past two weeks, unless Livesey was doing something, his arm was kept covered. For the past two weeks he had been trying to figure out how to tell the lad about his arm.
"Sweetheart, you have a mechanical arm," Sarah finally said, not bearing the waiting.
Hardly changed, Jim looked at his mother.
Sarah sighed. "Your arm was broken in two places. You had blood poisoning and gangrene and there was an infection. Your arm was removed from your shoulder. The mechanical arm begins at your shoulder. You have a metal arm."
"But my arm hurts. If I had a mechanical arm I wouldn't be able to feel anything," Jim said.
"Yer mind still thinks ye have a real arm. It will take a few days fer yer mind ta realize there is nothing but metal an' silver," replied Silver.
"I don't believe you," Jim said. "Either of you." The pain in his throat as he moved his head from side to side increased, but he hardly felt it. His heart was pounding through his body and his breath was in no condition to keep up with the much needed oxygen.
If he had a mechanical arm, he would have known it. There must have been a difference from a real arm and a mechanical arm. He felt no difference between his two arms other than that his left arm hurt. His left arm hurt because it was broken and apparently something else happened to it. He was only fifteen after all. Fifteen year old boys did not break. He was a teenager. Teenagers were the toughest beings on earth. Nothing could break him. Besides, Silver always helped him out when Scroop began messing with him and the captain didn't like it either. She even knew to keep an eye out for him when Scroop was around.
Delbert. Of course. Delbert would never let anything happen to him because he knew Sarah would kill him if he was hurt. Delbert wouldn't let anyone hurt him. Well, the Doctor hadn't much been around keeping an eye on him. Come to think of it, he hardly saw Delbert Doppler unless Captain Amelia was present. The two of them were always together. Doppler probably didn't even know to keep Scroop away from him.
The more he thought about his arm and saw the expressions his mother and Silver had on their faces as they looked at him, the more he was beginning to consider that there was something wrong with his arm. His right arm felt warm and content, but his left arm felt nothing. It was his shoulder that hurt more than his arm. It wasn't his shoulder per se either; it was more like the area around his shoulder hurt. Really, that hurt worse than his throat.
He turned his head to the blanket that covered his shoulder. Unaware of the world beyond his own mind, he reached his right hand over to the blanket and began pulling down. Seeing his shoulder was bandaged, he shut his eyes and swallowed hard. There was a very high possibility that his arm was no longer there, but as far as he could tell, it looked the exact same as his arm. He continued to pull his blue blanket downward until he saw a slight gleam in the sunlight.
His hand immediately pulled away and he squeezed his eyes shut. That was proof enough. He didn't want to see more. A gleam where fleshy pink should have been was enough to cause him to realize his arm was no longer his arm and just a bunch of chords and silver.
"Ye'll be all right lad," Silver promised.
"I don't want to see it," Jim told him.
"I know ye don't, but ye need ta get used ta it soon 'cause it's not going anywhere," said Silver and pulled the blanket from around his arm.
Although he found his mind screaming at him not to look, he did anyway. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach and breathing became a hundred times more difficult. He felt as though he had been forced to run and run for hours and he was being forced to continue to run. Air simply would not go into his lungs. His heart was pounding like he had been running for hours and hours. The feeling in his stomach was like had been running. Everything hurt and he felt the tears sliding from the sides of his eyes. One of them specifically went across the bridge of his nose and dripped on his cheek and continued to slide onto the pillow.
It did look like a normal arm and it was not nearly as bad as Silver's was. He was thinking that it was as primitive as the mechanism that Silver was outfitted with. The shape did resemble a normal, human arm, but it wasn't his arm. It wasn't his arm.
Now what would he do? He already had a reputation as Montressor's juvenile delinquent. Everyone stayed away from him. Despite that children wanted to go to him for any mechanical problems, the parents wouldn't let them. He was a criminal and now he was a fifteen year old with a mechanical arm and a plate in his forehead. Everyone would know who he is. How could he go back to school? What would everyone say? He always acted like he didn't care what they said or whatever other people said. After his father left, he simply pretended he didn't care. He did care. The truth of the matter was that he did care what people said about him.
Would they point? Undoubtedly, they would stare at his arm and pull jokes about him because of it. They already joked that he was going to be dead before he graduated school for a crime he would pull. And when they asked what happened—he couldn't remember what happened. He had no proof that he was actually at Treasure Planet. No one would believe him anyway and it's not like anyone did believe anything he said before. Now he was all the more reason to talk about. Everyone on Montressor would want to see the "quarter Cyborg". He could hear it already. The names they would call him. "Quarter Cyborg", "Tin Head", "Silver Armed Wonder", "Beware the Metal Arm of Crime".
He wanted to curl up and hide. Why did this happen to him? Why did it have to be him? Why did everything bad happen to him? He thought going to Treasure Planet and getting the treasure would set things right and helping to rebuild the Inn would change his reputation. He wasn't a criminal at all. He never stole anything in his life. All he wanted to know was where everyone went off thinking he stole. Alls he really did was skip school now and then, but everyone did once in a while. He was only on Probation because he was skipping school to go out and ride his Solar Surfer. Everyone thought he was on probation because he stole something. All right, if anyone asked, he would admit that he did technically trespass on government property and go through restricted zones to find parts, but he never stole. Technically, those few parts were on the vehicles before they entered restricted areas so it was fair game for anyone. Perhaps that was why he was thought of as a criminal.
Now that he had these new parts they would come up with their own stories about how he got them like getting his arm cut off as punishment on some other planet for stealing and then stole money to get an arm back. There were probably those dead bulbs that would talk of him cutting his arm off on purpose so he could get attention or pity from everyone else. He hated pity and much rather wanted to be on his own. Certain few knew how smart he was and regulars at the Inn knew he was a hard worker. He ordered and served and made the food and cleaned up after them and never complained once. He did what he was told and never complained about it.
More than anything, he wanted to get on a ship and leave all of them. He wanted to find his father out there in the Universe somewhere. For the first time since his father left him, he wanted him. He actually wanted his father more than his mother and he didn't know why. It broke his heart, no, crushed him when his fingertips were just shy of his father. He was so, very close to his father, yet so far away in a few moments. Why did it seem like tragedy always struck him in a few minutes? He didn't care if his father didn't want him; all he wanted to do was tell his father that he still cared for him and loved him. What would his father say about the mechanics? He knew his mother hated it, but he wanted to know what his father would say.
That was it. He made up his mind. The moment he was allowed to get up and move around, he would be on the first available ship headed to the Spaceport and he would get on the first ship far away from Montressor. He would cut his hair and wear a bandana around his head to cover the metal and a glove on his arm. No one had to know about his arm and head. No one would ever hear from him again. He would change his name to something else and he would have his own job. Of course, he would live on a planet building Solar Surfers. His mother would never find him because he wouldn't own the shop; he would just make them. She wouldn't have to look at his arm all day and wonder why it had to be him. He would leave and never return.
No, he just wouldn't live. He couldn't live like this. He didn't want to live anymore. His life was ruined anyway. There was no point to life. Because of his arm he would most likely be considered as disabled and therefore he would have no choice but to work pathetic jobs where the mangers would always offer assistance and give him no choice but to help him. For the rest of his life, he would receive pity, especially since he was only fifteen years old and he would grow—
"Talk ta me lad. Don't keep it bundled in tha' noggin o' yers. Let me help ye. Wha's going on in there?"
"I want to die," Jim replied softly.
"I know ye do. I know lad. I'll get ye through it. Ye'll be all right in a few weeks. I'm here Jim. This ol' Cyborg knows a thing or two about mechanics," said Silver. He lowered his head to Jim's level. "Be glad ye aren't looking like me."
"I'm fifteen. I already have a reputation on Montressor that I can't change and this will only make it worse. I don't want to be alive," Jim began sobbing, trying to hide his face in his pillow further.
Not taking any of this and allowing Jim to throw himself a pity party because he hated pity, Silver pressed his hand under Jim's cheek and moved his head so his eyes were looking at him. He pressed his other hand, his mechanical hand, on Jim's other cheek, cradling the teenager's head in his palms.
"Ye want ta live lad, ye know ye do. Wha'ever happened ta th' lad tha' was tough as nails an' did wha' he wanted? I know tha' Jim is still in there. Jim, yer strong an' ye'll get through this," Silver told him, promisingly. "I told ye lad, ye got th' makings of greatness in ye an' all ye have ta do is take th' helm an' chart yer own course an' stick to it not matter the squalls. This, Jim, this is one of them squalls. Ye will get through this. I'm not going anywhere lad. I'll help ye get through it." He smiled as he saw the light returning to those bright blue eyes. "Remember lad, th' Cap'n never said ye were no longer under my charge which means ye are still under my charge."
"That's great," said Jim. "But it's just—"
"I know, ye have a mechanical arm," replied Silver. "I went though th' same thing lad, 'cept I didn't have a Cyborg jus' laying around ta help me out."
Jim's smile was welcoming to the both of them. His eyes went between Silver and his mother then to Morph who had been unusually quiet. "I'll be all right eventually Morph. I just have to tell myself that I'll be all right before I go and tell other people."
"You will be all right," Sarah said.
"Mom, what do you think? I need to know!" Jim suddenly cried.
"About what?" Sarah asked.
"I know I promised that you wouldn't lose me and nothing would happen," Jim told her.
"And I didn't lose you. If I lost you, I wouldn't be here talking to you right now. Would I?" wondered Sarah.
"What do you think?" Jim asked again.
"The question is what do you think Sweetheart?" Sarah asked.
"I hate it," replied Jim.
"So do I, but it's better than losing you permanently," said Sarah.
"My arm itches," Jim told them.
"Then itch it silly," Sarah said, rubbing his small arm.
By watching Jim move about uncomfortably, Silver knew which arm itched and it was the arm that wasn't there. "Jim, tell yerself tha' yer arm doesn't itch."
"But it does," replied Jim.
"If ye notice, there be no arm ta itch. Ye have ta tell yerself it doesn't itch otherwise it'll keep going on itching 'till it drives ye mad," said Silver.
"I can't. It itches," Jim told him again, fussing beneath his blankets and rubbing his fingers on his upper left arm. He hardly realized that his arm was metal. All he could think about was the itch that wasn't going away.
"Silver, what's happening to him?" Sarah asked.
"Phantom Pains I think they be called. His mind still thinks he's got a real arm there an' his nerves inside him are all going crazy 'cause they are attached to wires tha' shouldn't be there. These pains'll go on for a few days," replied Silver.
"Days!" cried Jim, digging his nails into the one spot that itched. "It's not stopping."
Silver finally grabbed Jim's hand and held tightly. "Listen ta me lad. I know how ta make it better. Tell yerself it doesn't itch an' keep on telling yerself tha'."
"It doesn't itch. It doesn't itch. It doesn't itch. It doesn't itch," Jim muttered to himself. He squeezed his eyes shut again and bit his lower lip. His arm itched so badly and he could do nothing about it. The worst of it was that he did have an arm there but it wasn't the right arm. "It doesn't itch. It doesn't itch. IT ITCHES!"
Silver rolled his eyes. "AAHHH!" he shouted in Jim's face.
Both Jim and Sarah jumped, but Jim's horrified, wide eyes were staring up at him.
"Now," said Silver, sitting back down and relaxing. He put a smile on his face. "Does yer arm itch."
"No," replied Jim simply. "I don't think so. Um…no, it doesn't."
Silver nodded his head.
Floating on over, Morph giggled. He glided over the silver of Jim's arm and immediately let himself rest onto the reflective material. He made faces and smiled and admired his fuzzy, distorted reflection. His little pink tongue stuck out of his mouth as the end of his protoplasm body wagged back and forth.
Jim smiled at Morph. Only Morph would be able to make him softly laugh and he knew it.
Hearing him laugh, Morph floated in a circle as he went to Jim's head. He had all the intention of grabbing his cheek and giving him a hug, but then he saw the shiny metal and set himself on Jim's eye before admiring himself again.
"Morphy, let th' lad be," Silver said, pulling him away.
"He's fine," Jim said then got all uncomfortable again.
"Oh don't tell me your arm itches again," Sarah pleaded.
"No, my shoulder hurts," Jim said. "And so does my throat."
"Then stop talking," Silver told him obviously. "An' does yer arm feel like it's all poky and sharp."
"Yes," replied Jim softly.
"I thought this woulda come later, but I guess not," said Silver.
The Cyborg made his merry way over to a table across the room parallel to the foot of the bed. He searched through the bottles, picking them up and reading their labels and grumbling when he did not successfully find the right one. He jumped in delight when he found the bottle he was searching for.
Jim leaned his head as far over as he could to look past Silver's body and make the attempt to count the bottles. One, two, three, four, five, six— "Are those all for me?"
"Yeah," replied Sarah softly.
"Where did you get all the money?" Jim asked.
"John," said Sarah with a smile. "I owe him so much."
"No, ye don't Sarah. I keep telling ye tha'," Silver told her. He set two cups on a table near Jim and took the largest one in hand. "Now, this is gonna taste something fierce but jus' choke it down if ye have to."
Choking it down was the best phrase to describe what Jim did. The taste was something like acid or fuel. At least that was how he always imagined acid or fuel would taste. It burned and stung in his throat which made his throat hurt more. The very second he tasted the liquid on his tongue, reflex told him to spit it out and because he wanted to spit it out he choked on it since Silver kept the cup at an angle literally forcing him to drink. His eyes were watery and the moment every last drop was down his throat, he coughed and choked. Before he could recover, another liquid was poured into his mouth. At least this one only had a sweet, biting flavor that was only displeasing to his tongue. The sweet was unnaturally sweet and made his stomach queasy. A combination of fuel and sweet was not pleasing.
His eyes were squeezed shut and lips tightly sucked into his mouth. No more, he wanted no more medicine. If that was what he had to go through every time something hurt then he was thinking it was simply better just to take the pain. He felt sick to his stomach.
"Jus' ta let ye know lad, it's going ta get worse before it all gets better," Silver hinted.
Jim's eyes opened and turned to him horrified. The shimmer among the blue exemplified his distress. "How much worse?"
"Th' Phantom Pains are going ta get worse. Ye'll have ta get used ta moving yer arm without feeling th' movement. It'll take a bit of time ta get used ta moving yer arm. Where yer nerves are connected ta th' little wires in yer arm will feel like they're bitting at ye. As yer shoulder is bonding ya yer arm th' pain is going ta be unbearable but tha's why ye've got all this medicine. Yer head is also going ta have a bit of pain as it's getting used ta th' plate," Silver told him, making a count on his fingers as he recalled what he went through. "When ye feel like ye want ta kill yerself 'cause of th' pain then ye know it'll get better th' next morning."
"I don't want to do this. Can we just get rid of my arm?" Jim asked.
"An' have no arm there?" Silver asked him.
"It doesn't sound worth it," said Jim as his voice softly trailed off and eyes shut. He suddenly relaxed into his bed and face eased. The grasp on his mother's hand loosened and he was breathing much gentler.
"How long is he going to be like this?" Sarah asked.
"It all depends how tough he fights," said Silver. "An' I know th' lad is a tough fighter. I've seen it."
"He's only tough as long as he has something to live for," said Sarah.
"Life should be good enough," Silver said.
Nodding, Sarah had to agree to that although she wasn't too sure her son would agree to the same. Jim was Jim and he was a teenager. Teenagers needed something to life for besides life. Before, Jim was living for freedom and the joy of wind through his hair and she knew he had no life. She heard that comment when he backed away into the kitchen before this whole mess began. He had no life then so maybe he would consider himself having a life now. He did go to Treasure Planet.
"Are ye hungry?" Silver asked.
Sarah nodded her head. "A little."
"Ye mean ta say yer actually gonna admit tha' yer hungry?" Silver asked with a slap on his knee. Sarah looked at him with a narrow eye and slight glare. "I'm goin', I'm going."
After a few steps, Morph floated on over and settled himself on his shoulder.
Silver rubbed his head as he shut the door with one last peek at Sarah. She did seem happier that her son was awake now and because he was awake, her world was going to get put back together just like that. The truth of the matter was that it was going to take quite a long time for Jim's world to get put back together. Neither of them knew what was ahead or believed him. He was sure neither Sarah or Jim understood what it meant.
Oh well, he would worry about that after he got some food in his belly because there was no sense caring for someone else before yourself. He wandered down the two flights of stairs and down the main hall. Jim was especially fortunate to have the entire top floor of the hospital to himself. Livesey did that on purpose however. All three of them needed privacy and the third floor was the most comfortable anyway, which didn't make sense in his mind because it required three flights of stairs to climb.
The moment he came out of the hall, David and Tom were sitting on the front desk being brothers and eating lunch themselves.
"Well?" wondered Livesey.
Silver sighed. "His pains are setting in an' I don' think he knows wha' it means yet."
"No one does until it sinks in," replied Livesey.
"He's a teenager. Teenagers mend quickly," Tom said with a mouthful of food so only some words were understood.
Livesey jabbed his brother in the stomach and shook his head. "Chew."
"I am," replied Tom.
"Then swallow," Livesey said.
Tom swallowed. "Don't be pushy. Just because you're my older brother doesn't mean you can just shove me around like a piece of junk."
"You are a piece of junk," Livesey told him.
"You look awful," Tom noted, looking at Silver who was leaning in the doorway.
Silver nodded his head. There was no denying that. He looked at his own mechanical hand and watched the gizmos move as he clenched his fist. His eyes misted with memories.
"How is your leg?" Livesey asked.
"I'll deal wit' it later," Silver told him.
"You've been limping around on it for a few days," Livesey said. "If you want, I can upgrade all your parts too. The advancements do look more normal."
"I like my humble gizmos sir. They be handy when I need 'em most," said Silver.
Livesey shrugged. "Just an offer. Oh, did you get him to eat something?"
"Not yet," replied Silver reluctantly. "I gave him some of his medicine. I'll get some soup in him when he's awake next."
"And make sure there are chunks of solid meat in there for him to chew. He needs to eat solid food," said Livesey.
"I know," Silver told him, his eyes rolling. "I'm getting food for Sarah and I."
"Go to Blue Droubloon. They are having a special on these sandwiches," Tom told him, pointing at the empty plate.
"They've always got somethin' goin' on," Silver said. He pointed to himself. "I know. I worked there fer a time."
Silver wandered out into the streets of the Spaceport again. Nothing changed. As usual. He was waiting for the Legacy to return. He had a feeling the captain would secure her vessel back and most likely take her own amount of the treasure. If they were smart, which she was, she would leave the planet intact and so only she would know the location of the treasure. However, most likely knowing her prim proper behavior, she would claim the treasure for the Navy and their officials.
Since he was thinking about the treasure, he thought he should bring a handful of it to Jim so he could pick out his own piece and proof that they were there and so after he brought Sarah some sandwiches and they ate them well, he made the voyage to Doppler's house and grabbed a handful of jewels.
Of course, when he was seated beside Jim waiting for the teenager to wake, another quandary arose in his mind. If the captain did take back her ship then she would undoubtedly arrest all the pirates on the ship and sentence them to a hanging. Pirates will be pirates and blame everything on their leader. With all the pirates confirming that he was their leader, if anyone ever found out that he was there, he would be taken away from Jim. He knew it. There was no "if". It was a matter of "when" she would come and the authorities would walk in to take him away. No matter how hard Jim or Sarah would plead for him not to be taken away, there was no evidence not proving him pirate. He was wanted on several other planets as well and he knew plenty officials in the Navy wanted him dead. Being a woman, and having learnt quite a bit about women, Captain Amelia would find out where he was.
And if he was gone, away from Jim, the teenager would then have no one to help him out. He knew Jim enough to know that he was only tough when he wasn't in pain. The lad could only be so strong when he was in pain. With a twice broken arm and threats of more breaking, he did break. He broke to obeying whatever was told him. Jim's breaking point was pain. Already, he was beginning to see that Jim hated pain and was most vulnerable when he felt horrible. There had to be a way to avoid being arrested. Clearly, he brought Jim here for help and he did nothing wrong. People change. He changed. He solemnly swore he was done with piracy. Well, part of his reason for being done was that he did have quite the sum of treasure and since he did find the treasure, he had to find something to do with the rest of his life.
He looked down at Jim's face knowing what he wanted to try doing for the rest of his life. It was always something he had considered perhaps. Maybe. It was a great responsibility and plenty of parents were always saying how proud they were of their children. He had taken Jim under his arm and become his mentor for over two months. The emotion he kept buried deep in his heart was dug up and cast out for the entire world to sea. Sarah saw it. She knew how much he cared for him. It was up to her though and he had been considering it for the past two weeks. He was so beautiful asleep. Drugged or not, he was so beautiful when he sleep.
There was far too much potential in Jim just to let him throw it all away on some injury. Each day, he saw the potential grow in Jim. The little glow Jim was beginning to get before he was hurt faded away to nothing really. He was getting stronger and bolder. He was beginning to find his place in the world. He'll find that place again. All he has to do is heal up.
Silver gently ran his fingertip along Jim's jaw line. "Sarah, he needs a father."
"I know," Sarah said, lowering her book and leaning her head on the back of the chair.
"I've been thinking recently," Silver said, his fingers in his lap twiddling and head not turned to her. He tried a few times to say the words but only sighs escaped him. "Wha' would ye say ta me adopting Jim as my son?"
"I'm still his mother and therefore he is mine," Sarah told him with a heavy sigh.
"I know, but I don't think you would want to marry me just so I could become Jim's dad," said Silver, tripping over his tongue.
Sarah looked at him until he raised his head to look at her. She didn't say anything to that comment for a few minutes. "Are you proposing to me?"
"No! Good heavens no!" Silver told her immediately, his eyes going wide. "We can arrange th' adoption so tha' I'm his adopted father an' yer still his mother. I would never ask a woman ta marry me after two weeks of knowing her. Tha's ridiculous."
"Completely," Sarah told him, nodding her head with a forced smile.
"Tha's like an arranged marriage," added Silver.
"Not right," Sarah said.
"Yeah, never mind my asking," Silver told her, waving his hand in the air and turning his attention back to Jim.
Sarah however continued to keep her eyes on Silver. He did look at Jim the way Leland once did long ago. He had the look of a father keeping watch on his son. She had seen it from him for the past two weeks. He did what she couldn't bear watching. He gave Jim food and water when Livesey couldn't. He took care of her son better than she ever did. Having a man around Jim wasn't such a bad idea and adopting him didn't mean they had to get married. So she didn't have to worry about that, but she did think rather fondly of him.
"I'll look into the adoption," she said, looking at her son then at Silver.
Silver was looking back at her with a smile.
Giggling, Morph floated between them and transformed into a glowing, bright red heart.
Both Silver and Sarah cried out and reached for him. But, as their hands got close Morph wound himself around their hands, keeping them held together. After a moment, he returned to his normal pink shape and watched.
The clasped hands did not release. Her touch was warm and more firm that he expected. His touch was quite warm and even more gentle. Something about it felt right to them. Perhaps it was merely because they were two lonely souls in love with the same person. Common interests did bring people together.
"I'm hungry."
Immediately, both hands pulled away and they acted like nothing happened.
Jim was blinking heavily, still in the process of waking, but his eyes were focused on his mother. "How long was I out?"
"Only a few hours," Sarah replied.
The teenager moved his hand across his chest and cupped his shoulder. He softly whined and moaned. "I was hoping it was just a dream."
"Well, it's not Sweetheart and we'll get through it like John said," Sarah told him.
"Why are you the only one who calls him John?" Jim asked with a small smile. "Everyone else calls him Silver."
"He introduced himself as John to me and prefer that I call him John," explained Sarah.
Jim looked around the room in search of Silver and was quite surprised to not see him there. He then turned his attention to the shelve where all the different sort of bottles were lying and finally was able to count nine of them total and he knew each bottle had a different purpose, but stood high above the rest.
"Mom, what's in the tall bottle?"
"It's filled with a liquid that takes the pain away and makes you sleepy," replied Sarah.
"How much did all of this cost and don't lie to me," said Jim firmly.
Sarah sighed heavily. "We gave Livesey a chest of the treasure. He used about three quarters of the contents to pay for it."
"That's a lot of money," noted Jim, looking away.
"It's all right though. You're all patched up and there are still two entire chests of treasure safely tucked away. We have plenty to rebuild the inn and I was thinking about something I think you'll like a lot," said Sarah. She set her book chair behind her and scooted over onto the bed to Jim's side. "What would you think of you and I moving to another planet?"
"Where?" wondered Jim.
"Somewhere warm with an ocean and plenty of beaches and where it's always sunny," Sarah suggested.
"You want to go back to Earth?" wondered Jim.
"I've been considering it. Your father and I wanted to take you there, but we never got the money to make it back and so we stayed here. I think you would like Earth a lot better than here," said Sarah.
"I like Montressor. I couldn't imagine living anywhere else," Jim said.
"That's because this planet is like you. You're always moody and rainy and dark and changing and depressing and so is this planet. I think you've learned more from the planet than your own mother," Sarah told him.
Jim smiled at her and nodded. He grabbed his mother's hand and bit his lip. "Mom, you did nothing to make me this way. I know you sometimes think it's your fault that I ended up like this, but it's really my fault. I kept disobeying you and doing what I wasn't supposed to and just gave up. Did Dad leave because of me?"
"What makes you say that?" Sarah asked, adrenaline suddenly causing her heart to thrash.
"I just feel like he did. I grew up and all I remember is him pushing himself further and further away from me. He was fine around you, but it was me he wanted to stay away from. I guess I just didn't care about much anymore because I thought I was always the one that made him leave," said Jim.
Sarah shook her head. "It wasn't you. It was me. Your father loved you and he wanted to be there for you. You became my son rather than his. I kept you protected and I was the one who gave you your life lessons. He always felt he was in the background with your upbringing. Your father and I were slowly torn apart by each other. We were too alike to be together. He wanted to raise you one way and I wanted to raise you another way. He wanted you to be a spacer like him and go out for months on end working. I wanted you to have a more normal, down to planet lifestyle. After a while, he kept to himself and stuck around only for you. Once you began going to me for everything, he had enough of it and left. He said he had no business there anymore. I tried to reason with him and told him that you were more his son than mine. He didn't care. He told me he couldn't be trapped here anymore and wanted to do something with his life other that wait around for his son to grow up and take to him. He wanted to be someone, not a father. He was free and we were holding him down. He had things he wanted to do in his life and came to the conclusion that we were holding him down."
"I loved my father. You think he would have realized that when I ran down screaming for him in my pajamas telling him not to go," Jim told her.
"It was too late by then. He made his mind up that we were holding him down and he had to break free," said Sarah.
"Okay," Jim whispered with a nod. "I wish I could find him. I want him back."
"You want a father not him. If he ever came back wanting you, I don't think I would let him back into your life. Like you said, you think he would have realized you loved him when he left. Had he turned around and scooped you into his arms and said goodbye before leaving then I would let him back in a second. He didn't and I doubt he wants you," Sarah told him.
"I just wish upon a star," said Jim.
"Me too, me too," agreed Sarah.
In comfort, she set her soft lips upon his forehead, knowing that once again comforted him from some of the pain he was feeling in the world and thought Silver had impeccable timing when he walked back in the room.
"Bon appetite," announced Silver as he presented Jim with a bowl.
"I'm not eating that stew," Jim told him.
"I know ye hate my Bonzabeast stew. I've known fer a while Jimbo. This be something better than tha'," Silver told him.
"Like what?" asked Jim.
"Mostly chicken," Silver told him.
"And how am I supposed to eat? Can I sit up?" asked Jim.
"In a couple more days Sweetheart," said Sarah.
"How am I supposed to get better if I can't move?" Jim asked them obviously.
"Ye'll wake up a few more times an' naturally get moving around then ye can sit yerself up," said Silver.
Jim looked at the spoon in the bowl. "I am not being spoon fed."
Both Sarah and Silver smiled. There was some of the Jim Hawkins they were so familiar with. The narrow eyes, pursed lips, and moody tone were all there. So, there was a little hope for Jim to recover after all and be himself.
So, after a moody fight between all three of them concerning the matter of how Jim Hawkins would be fed dinner, which sent Livesey and Tom up there and so all five of them were arguing and fighting over the matter of how Jim would eat his dinner. It was finally decided that Jim would just have to maintain all his dignity and allow someone to spoon feed him and, of course, Livesey came up with the brilliant reasoning. He let Jim try to sit up and feed himself, but the teenager only understood how weak and worn he was. Giving in, he let his mother help him eat. He would rather his own mother than friend does it because she was his mother. Unfortunately, he had to admit warm food in his belly did give him comfort. It was comfort enough to get him to sleep on his own.
But, in the middle of the night when the Port was mostly quiet, and the citizens and travelers were asleep from their weary days of work and travel and the captains had to rest before leaving, and only the patrols were out, Jim awoke with a sudden start and began itching his arm everywhere. He pulled the blanket from around his left arm and just began digging his nails into the silver hoping his mind would somehow realize he was itching.
In the chair, Silver awoke to the sounds of soft sobbing and breathing through teeth. He sat up and once again grabbed Jim's hand. He shook his head. "Don't."
"I can't help it," Jim whispered. "Now my head itches."
Silver shook his head in the moonlight. With a quick flip of his own mechanical arm, he lit the candle at Jim's bedside. The teenager's eyes were red and filling quickly with tears of pain and hurt. They were looking up at Silver pleadingly.
"I know," whispered Silver. "Oh, I got something fer ye." He reached into his pocket and opened his palm near the candle light.
Jim's eyes widened and mouth opened agape. His thoughts were suddenly distracted from the fact that his arm and head itched. His heart was pulsing inside of him. It was real. There was treasure on Treasure Planet. There was such a thing as the Loot of a Thousand Worlds. The crystals and pearls and rings and coins were all in the palm of John Silver's hand. Pulling his hand away, he wanted to touch the treasure simply to confirm that it was there. Feeling the smoothness of the objects put a smile on his face.
"It's really real," he said. "Mom always said it was 'more like a legend'. I always knew it was out there. I always wondered if someone would ever find Treasure Planet. These stories kept me alive sometimes."
"Really?" Silver asked with a narrow eye. Jim nodded his head. "Hm."
The Cyborg set the treasure on the table beside him. He then picked up a gold ring and grabbed Jim's hand. The ring was slipped onto the teenager's middle finger, gleaming proudly. "Now ye can say tha' it be ye who found Treasure Planet an' th' proof is on yer finger. So, when yer mother wakes, show her yer finger an' ask her if this be some sorta legend."
Jim's smile grew. He nodded his head. The joy and comfort vanished as he squeezed his eyes shut and shifted uncomfortably. His hand reached to his head and began scratching the red line separating skin from metal.
"Uh uh uh," Silver told him, pulling his hand away again. "Ye'll make yerself bleed lad. We don't want that."
"How did you do it?" Jim asked.
"I accepted th' medicine an' though of something else," replied Silver.
"Then I'll accept the medicine too. I'll accept anything that helps," Jim said.
"Good lad," said Silver.
Once again, Jim let someone pour the sweet liquid in his mouth that did make him sick to his stomach again and did guide him into an uneasy sleep, but he was asleep and unaware that his arm hurt. He was more unaware that his arm wasn't there rather than there and that was something he didn't want to be aware of. In his dreams, he still had both arms and he was sitting on the bowsprit of the Legacy staring out to the stars enjoying the quiet and not feeling as alone as he always thought he was. The stars were a reminder that there was something else in the universe for him and he would find it. Someday. Even after having found the treasure, he wanted more. Those stars were more and more comforting to him and he fell asleep looking at them out his window after wishing on them that something would happen to make him find his place in the universe.
A Note From TurtleHeart:
so, do you feel better or are you still depressed after reading this?
Happy Readings!