Father came home in a big hurry. As he opened the door, he called urgently, "Emily! Wesley! Elizabeth!" Mother came quickly from the kitchen as Elizabeth and I slid into the loft.

"Pack your things," Father commanded, walking up the stairs. "I've decided to take that job my father found me in Port Royal."

"We're moving?" I asked, shocked.

"That would be the only way for me to work in Port Royal," he replied sarcastically.

"I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"What?" Father was half surprised she knew what that meant, half surprised that she would defy his instructions.

"I'm not moving!" She explained, walking straight to Father and kicking him in the shin just as he reached the top of the stairs. Then, she ran to her room.

"But why Father?" I asked, still shocked. "Why do we have to move? Couldn't you find a job here?"

"No, and that's why we have to move," he answered bluntly, but Mother and I knew what that really meant. Mother and I exchanged a sad glance.

"Why is everyone so sad about this?" Father inquired. "It will be great! A whole new life, new people with no prejudice about us. A huge houses. It will be a chance to start over."

Yeah, right. I thought. Start over. Liar. But it wasn't like I really had a choice, so I decided to "Let the night go on," just like Sammuel said, and make the best of whatever happened.

I found myself repeating over and over again what Father pretended to believe about moving. We were in a city on the beach that I had never been to before. Elizabeth and I were playing tag while Father tried to buy tickets. It actually hadn't started out too bad.

The man behind the counter said, "Sorry. We only have room left for two on the next ship. You can try to catch one tomorrow."

"No! We need this ship. We must leave immediately. Can you not do anything?" Father replied harshly.

"Well, we do have plenty of room on the poor ship, you know the one that carries all the slaves, for your slaves and the other two of you, if you are that desperate. That would be the only other choice. Dreadful smell though, I wouldn't suggest it."

Father turned to us and pretended to hold a little consultation. Then, he turned back to the man and said, "We'll take it." I just hoped I wouldn't end up with that smell.

The way Father split us up, though, I began to think the smell might be the better option. For his reputation, he "had" to be on the rich ship. I had to come with him so I wouldn't get into trouble. That left Mother and Elizabeth—who at the moment weren't getting along—alone on a ship full of disgusting poor men. Smart match, eh? But it gets worse. Father knew that he would get mad at me and beat me at some point on the trip, so he drug me on the ship with my hands bound.

A young man dressed very properly, walked up to Father and introduced, "Good day, Sir."

"Good day to you too," Father replied, trying to sound cheery.

"I am James, Sir. Lieutenant James Norrington."

"Weatherby Swann." They shook hands. "Were you visiting England Sir?"

"Aye, it was a nice place."

I had gotten bored of the conversation they were trying to hold, so I grabbed my bag and the key to our room and left. I settled down on the bed and read. Unlike Father, James noticed the moment that I left.

He commented, "Was that your slave that just left?"

Father looked around, finally noticing I was gone, and immediately came searching for me. As he headed to our room, he mumbled, "That damn kid."

Norrington must have taken that as an invitation to come along, because he did, talking all the way.

"I know, Sir," he continued. "This next generation of people are just…so disobedient, so rebellious. Especially those slaves, all teaching their children to run away." He shook his head in disapproval. "But seeing that I am a Lieutenant in the British Navy, I would be delighted to help you in any possible way."

And suddenly, Father liked Norrington. Is it any surprise? He found it quite relieving to be able the pawn off his kid to someone else whenever he didn't feel like being responsible, and know I would be treated the same way.

"Excuse me for a moment," Father commanded as he walked up to our open door. "Wesley!" He called entering the room.

"Yeah," I replied looking up from the book.

Father had gotten so used to pretending to like me that he almost said, "Oh I'm so glad you're all right. I was so worried." Instead, he took a deep breath to stop himself.

"Yeah," I repeated, wondering why he was bothering me.

"Are you reading those dreadful books again?" He more stated than asked, quite angrily. Then, he grabbed the book and threw it on the bed.

"Sorry," I said sarcastically. "I didn't realize you needed me for anything."

"I don't. You should spend your time doing something more productive. That is all."

"But—" I gestured to the book. I thought reading was supposed to be productive.

"Lieutenant Norrington here is going to give you a job to keep you busy."

"Oka-ay," I agreed reluctantly. I had no idea what Father was talking about.

"Oh, and Wesley, how many times do I have to remind you to call me Master?"

I frowned at him, so totally confused, and replied, "Never again Master." I supposed I could play along until I knew what was actually happening. He wouldn't really make me a slave, would he?

"Come along Boy," Norrington ordered, grabbing me by the back of the neck. He had no idea where he was going, so he just walked, pushing me along ahead of him. About halfway across the ship, we passed the kitchen. Norrington stopped and walked in. The cook was in there tasting the food he was making.

"Hey, Austin, I found you a little helper. Take good care of him," Norrington said bringing me in with him. Then, he whispered, "He's a slave of a Swann."

"Yes Sir," Austin responded. Everyone knew Grandpa Swann who lived in Port Royal. No one would dare piss him off—though it had never happened before.

Norrington left Austin and me standing there, just staring at one another. Neither of us knew exactly what to do. After a moment, Austin just went back to whatever he was doing before. That was when I noticed how dirty the kitchen was. There were dishes piled up everywhere, and we hadn't even left port yet.

"You needed some help?" I asked to break the silence, quickly adding a , "Sir," to sound respectful.

"Sure," Austin said, not actually expecting me to accomplish anything, "you can start on the dishes."

"Okay," and so I did. There was a nice sized stack on the counter next to a bucket of water. I found a rag and hopped up on the counter between the two. I spent all that afternoon doing dishes, and Austin never once spoke to me.

The next morning I was out on deck, sitting on the edge, just watching the ocean. We were so far from land, yet I felt so safe.

Austin came up behind me. "Hey kid," he began, "you wanna come help out again. You do good dishes, eh?"

I thought for a second. I knew Father would make me do something horrible that day, and from what I had seen, the kitchen wasn't too bad of a job. If I told Father I was doing dishes, he wouldn't object when all he really wanted was to not have to deal with me.

"All right," I replied, almost forgetting the "Sir" again. I jumped off the edge and onto the deck and followed him back to the kitchen. This time, instead of ignoring each other, however, we tried to have a sort of conversations.

"So, you're the runaway slave of someone who's related to a Swann, eh?" He asked. He spoke very quickly, so it was always difficult to understand him.

"Huh?" See, I didn't understand him.

"There is a Swann on the boat, eh?"

"Yes Sir," I answered, starting on another stack of dishes.

"And you came with him, right?"

"Yes." I was beginning to get nervous. I wouldn't lie to him, but what would Father do if I told him the truth?

"And your'e chained, eh? A poor slave, on a rich boat, with a Swann for a master can only mean one thing. You've run away."

"But that's where you are wrong," I countered.

"You've never run away? Hmm."

"No! I'm not his slave. I'm his son." Oops, I said it, and I knew I shouldn't have.

"Oh." Austin frowned. He just went back to his cooking, trying to think of something to say next. For a few seconds theat seemed like forever, all you could hear was the clanking of the dishes.

"Then why does he treat you like a slave, eh?" Austin asked, unable to find his own explanation.

"I don't know. He just doesn't like me for some reason—never has. It has something to do with my mother—who he loves—being French, which doesn't make a difference for her, but suddenly, it makes me French…and the enemy. And—" I thought for a second, "well, I really shouldn't tell you."

Pretending not to really care, Austin replied, "Ah, I see. That's all right. Here, taste this." He gave me some of the food he was making. "Good, eh?"

"Yeah," I agreed, and not too long later, I felt completely free to tell him the whole story.

It must have made Austin mad, or something, because by lunch, Father knew that I had told him, and you can imagine the rest. He actually came down to the kitchen with Norrington and personally called me out.

"Lieutenant Norrington is going to watch you while I figure out what to do about this, all right Wesley?" He said.

"Yes…Master," I responded mockingly.

Norrington walked off, and I followed him reluctantly. When we got on deck, he laughed. Somehow, my father had gotten to him, I knew it, he was planning something evil. Being lunch, everyone was eating except for two men on watch.

Norrington said to one of them, "I'm relieving you. Go enjoy your afternoon." Being a Lieutenant, the watchman actually trusted him and replied, "Thank you, Sir." I watched the man leave thinking to myself, No, please stay.

When Norrington and I were alone, he was pretending to be teaching me how to tie the life boats up. As he explained to me how to tie this special knot, I just sat there watching him.

"Okay, now it's your turn," he said, seemingly kindly enough.

I hopped off the edge again and went to grab the rope, when he dropped it.

"My mistake," he joked sarcastically, as we both watched it fall into the water.

"What'd you do that for?" I questioned.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you need that still?"

"Do you want me to get another rope Sir?" I asked, a bit annoyed that he did that on purpose.

He leaned over the edge even further. "No, look. You can still get it if you try." I looked over too, and noticed that the rope was beginning to sink into the water. Then, he pushed me, and I fell into the ocean.

Now, I could swim, but mot very well. When I hit the water and just kept sinking and sinking, I freaked out. I struggled and struggled, but I couldn't seem to figure out which way was up. Then, my arm bumped something. It was the rope! I grabbed it and used it to pull myself back to the surface. Still being chained, I found it difficult to climb up the ladder Norrington threw down for me, but it worked…eventually. I hopped back up on deck and tied the boat up exactly like he showed me.

As I pulled the last loop through, I said, "There you go, Sir. She's all tied up."

"Why didn't you run away?" He asked angrily.

"What?" I hadn't even thought of doing that…though it seemed like a good idea.

"Why didn't you run away?" He repeated, grabbing me.

"Why should I have?"

"Your master is always talking about how rebellious and disobedient you are. And, just between you and me, I'm just itching to get you on something. But there you are being a perfect little angel, like your master is the insane one."

"He is insane," I mumbled.

"I dare you. Do something, do anything. Just show me once, your real personality." Norrington shoved a dagger in my hands.

I just looked at it for a long time. What made him think I would do something with it? I really wanted to use it, to get everyone back for everything. However, all I had to think was, that's what Father would do, and I'd made up my mind.

"No thank you." I gave the knife back and walked to our room.

I had just sat down when Father came back from lunch. "Alas!" He exclaimed. "Have you told Norrington too?"

"No," I started to answer, but instead Norrington ran in the door, soaking wet, panting, and bloody.

"Your crazy slave," he interrupted, "is the worst child I have ever met!"

Father hadn't seen Norrington yet, so he smiled at me because I hadn't revealed "the secret."

As he turned to face Norrington, he jokingly asked, "Wesley, now what have you done to…Mr. Norrington!" You could tell when Father first saw him. Of course, right away Father got mad at me, but he loved violence, and pain, so he had difficulties controlling his pleasure. Not to mention, Norrington's self-centeredness was starting to annoy Father, so me hurting him a bit didn't bother Father that much.

"What happened to you?" Father managed to ask through his mixed emotions.

"Your damn slave happened to me! I turned around for one second, and when I looked back, Austin—the cook—and him were trying to escape!" He paused too long for emphasis—he needed to practice lying a bit more. I hadn't expected this at all, though.

"I hurried to stop them from releasing a lifeboat," he continued, "but they had knives! I had to fight Austin with my bare hands…" and he went on and on about fighting Austin. I zoned out. I thought, instead, about how insane the world really was. Everyone said this was a "Golden Age" with peace, prosperity, and potential. With people like Father and Norrington, I felt we would never get there.

"Okay," Father interrupted, "I really don't care about your 'brave' actions against Austin. I can't control Austin. What did Wesley do?"

"Well, by the time Austin was taken care of, your slave—"

"Wesley," Father corrected.

"Wesley," Norrington continued, confused, "was already on a lifeboat and about ready to row off. Despite being bloody exhausted, literally bleeding, and fairly beat up, I quite nobly jumped into the water—at great risk—and easily overcame and retrieved you dear slave Wesley." He said that part mockingly.

"Thank you, James, for making me aware of this. I shall handle it." Father replied, just to get him to go away.

Once Norrington was gone, Father turned to me, smiling, ad said, "Funny Wesley. Very funny. You've managed to get that stuck up, annoying, rich lad to leave us alone. I'm proud of you. However, you've done it wrongly. And so, as you have once more invoked my wrath, I have no choice but to punish you for it."

I'm not even sure if I knew what that meant, but I knew it was bad. And so it was. Father once again whipped me, this time twelve times. Sammuel was right. Relaxing did help. I felt the same after those twelve as I had after the first five. That night, long after Father had fallen asleep, I couldn't stop thinking about what Norrington had said. "Why didn't you run away?" kept repeating through my head.

"Why don't I run away?" I eventually asked myself. And so I did. I ran away. I snuck out of the room, across the deck, down a rope, and onto a lifeboat without being caught.

Suddenly, the urge came over me to shout, "So long Prince John!" It was meant in reference to the British prince—more like a tyrant—who reigned during the Crusades. I saluted toward the ship. Then, I turned around and put all my energy into rowing to Mother and Elizabeth's ship. Once I got there, I realized, they didn't have anything for me to climb up on. It made sense. They didn't have any lifeboats because they didn't want the slaves to be escaping. But now I couldn't get on the ship. I took one of the oars from my boat and repeatedly banged on the ship in hopes someone would hear me. Someone did.

A boy between 10 and 12 looked over the ship's edge and whispered, "Shut up!" then left. I was about ready to start banging again, thinking he abandoned me, when he came back with a rope. I grabbed on and climbed up as he pulled me up.

"Who are you? Where are you from? And why are you here?" He asked as soon as I was fully up.

"I need to find my sister," I replied, answering only the last question.

"That's real helpful. How can I tell you where your sister is if I don't know who you are?"

"I'm Wesley…"

He waited for more, then prompted, "No last name?"

"No last name," I repeated. "But my sister is Elizabeth. She's around your age—"

"Why she has a last name! Miss Swann, I know where she is. Follow me!" He ran off in a direction opposite where the entrance to the rooms was supposed to be.

"Where are you going?" I asked, trying to keep up with him.

He slid down a rope and into the water way below deck. "I know a shortcut," he called up to me, waiting for me to slide down too. I tried, but I let go too soon and fell on my butt. He laughed.

"Come on," he said, helping me up. Then, he realized that I was chained. He frowned for a while, contemplating why I would be, especially as Elizabeth's brother. Eventually he shrugged and handed me a key to something. "Here," he said and ran off again. I followed. All around us were more slaves and poor people. I felt sorry that they had to live in conditions like that. He led me through a door, and into a closet. I could tell he went there a lot to spy on my sister. He had a crush on her.

"Here you are," he whispered, opening the door into the room. I lit the candles in the room and knelt next to Elizabeth's bed.

"Elizabeth…Elizabeth," I whispered.

"What?" She moaned, waking up.

"You need to go."

"Where?"

"Father's ship."

"Why?" She asked, suddenly awake, out of bed, and ready to help.

"No," the boy mumbled, almost unnoticeably.

I began the seemingly endless, but not boring, story of what had just happened to me. (You don't need to hear it, you just saw it happen.) All the while, she slipped a dress on over her nightgown and the three of us made it back to the deck.

"So you're never coming back?" She asked finally.

"No."

"Never?"

"No, now go!"

"No, you can't go," the boy repeated just as she got down to the boat.

"What?" I asked, shocked.

"She can't go!"

"Just 'cause you like her." I untied the boat.

"No! It's not about that. That's the only lifeboat we have, you have to stop her."

"Why? I'm not going back."

"You have to. You and your mother because tomorrow this ship is going to be attacked by pirates. I like your family too much too—"

"Elizabeth!" I screamed, but by then it was too late.