Chapter Eighteen: A Pirate's Jewel
My resolution to venture off by myself to uncover Bennett's whereabouts had earned its place on the list of stupid things I had done. And just like every other moronic thing I was guilty of, my quest to find Bennett had begun as somewhat of a "simple" task, only to bear the complete opposite as soon as it was played into action.
From the Clyde's home, I followed their driveway to the main road, which eventually broke off into smaller roads, and I always chose the left. My repetitive choices unfortunately piloted me to the wild and unpropitious territory of Portsmouth commonly referred to as "the slums." I took one look at it and grinned from my own stupidity. Damn, Astrid, I thought. What a wonderful place to start.
I was at least thankful for having trespassed the area dressed as a boy. As a woman, I would have surely been in more trouble, and trying to find the quickest way out of the reeking and immoral atmosphere was easier than finding Bennett.
When I at last reached the more decent parts of the town, I began to poke around in local taverns, inns and the like just to see if he had stayed in any. But all of them declined having seen a man of Bennett's description, and when I looked into the log books at the inns, there was no man signed in under his name.
"All right, you bastard," I murmured, stepping out of my umpteenth inn. "That is the last decent place I'd assume you'd reside in, so if you are not in any of them… where are you now?"
I sat on the curb at the end of the street and took off my hat, running a hand through my short hair. Bennett was often full of surprises, especially when it came to things that he stalwartly justified. So there was always the possibility that clean Bennett had rented a room in some disgraceful boarding house just to peeve his father. And yet, the lad had warned me of the dangers of prostitution. I concluded that Bennett would never go back on his word.
"Fine, ya sly, sneaky, stupid, stupid boy," I growled. "Jack Barlow ain't gonna give up," I told myself proudly. But now I don't know where to go, dammit.
"Mister Barlow?" screeched someone from afar. Mister Barlow? What the hell? I turned my stupefied head to take a peek behind me, and a few yards off was a young woman waving a fan in my direction, and beside her was a tall, handsome gentleman. Suspicious and greatly puzzled with why the hell a woman would be calling me, I squinted my eyes, and my vision focused to reveal the familiar face of vile Victor Griffith and his queer older sister.
"Great God," I gasped, speedily spinning around with my teeth biting into my bottom lip. "What am I going to do?"
"Jack?" rang Marie Griffith's shrill voice. It was getting louder by the second, and so there was naught else left to do but walk in the other direction, pretending as if I had not heard her call my name.
I pressed my hat on my head, pulling it tight around my face so that Marie might mistake me for someone else, but she persisted, her calls becoming more pleading with every step I took. And I was certain Griffith was following her with a delighted face.
"Jack!" she screamed, and I thought I almost felt the sound waves bounce off my neck. With a shudder, I pressed onward, trying to weave through the procession of walking people in the hope of misguiding her, but she must have had damned good eyes, and damned quick steps because before I knew it, she had caught my coat collar.
"Finally!" she exclaimed. "Did you not hear me?"
I squirmed at the touch and gratefully pulled my coat from her clutch and smirked briefly with annoyance. Griffith was right behind his sister, his eyebrows raised with evident amusement, and while Marie was calling my name and Griffith was eyeing me with that same white flame in his eyes, I tried to think up a lie to get myself out of their company.
"It is highly rude, Jack," said Griffith suddenly, quieting his sister with the raise of his hand, "to ignore a young woman's address to you. An apology is needed." Marie smiled with relief at her brother's words and extended her hand before my vaguely disgusted face, batting her eyelashes again.
"I'm terribly sorry," I said. "I did not know. I'm an orphan after all and not accustomed to all of this… what do you call it? Oh yes, propriety, that you fine nobs love to execute."
"An apology is still required, Jack," replied Griffith, gesturing towards his sister's offered hand. My nose twitched with horror, and I looked at Marie's hand to Griffith's beaming face and then back to Marie's hand.
"What the hell am I supposed to do?" I asked dumbly. Marie laughed lightly and took a step towards me, bringing her hand all the more closer to my face.
"You kiss it, silly one," she cooed. And with the thing I was supposed to kiss right in front of my face, I could not protest with another inane response. Biting my tongue inside, I leaned forward and bumped my mouth on the back of her hand, letting the force inflict the kiss instead of my own lips. I felt like spitting after what I had done.
"What brings you out into the town at such an hour, Jack?" inquired Griffith, stepping in between his sister and me, but I was not relieved at the intervention. I was uncomfortable around Marie, just because she was flirting with a woman, and Griffith was not much of an improvement either.
"I've come looking for Mister Bennett actually, Mister Griffith," I said, thinking that if I was honest, the brute would help me. But he laughed instead and hooked his arm around my neck as if he was giving me brotherly affection, but I doubted it.
"Funny that you mention that, Jack," he said, grinning at the road ahead of us. "Bennett is at my house."
"What!" I screamed, causing Griffith to finally step away from me and rub his ear.
"You shout awfully loud for a boy your age," he said, snickering. "But since you seem so intent on finding Bennett, I'll take you there. Come, Marie," he commanded, and before I could make any mark of rebuttal, Miss Griffith gladly seized my hand and dragged me along to their carriage.
The one thing that stopped me from smacking Bennett until he was a dead man was the simple, white and wooden barrier of the Griffiths' guestroom door. Marie had informed me that he arrived at their mansion around five that morning, dazed and drunk, as she described. Immediately, he collapsed into bed, and just the way Marie spoke of it was enough to make me blaze to the point of tears.
They told me he was still sleeping, but I could have cared less of what they had to say. Slumbering or not, Bennett was in need of a good bruising lecture. And I was just the boy—girl, to give it to him.
I tore away the wooden barrier between us and didn't waste any time knocking on the door. I simply marched right in, glad to see young Mister Bennett still sleeping. With a smile curving on my lips, I bent over the bed, right over his face, and seized the collar of his nightshirt. And that gave him such a fright that his blue eyes shot open and his mouth opened to call for help, but I hauled him up with both of my hands as he struggled and slurred his confused words.
"Jack! What? What the hell are you—"
"Good morning to you as well, Bennett," I replied, pushing him out of the door and down the hallway. "I am sorry to disturb your peaceful, and most likely, lewd dreams, but I'm afraid you have an appointment to meet."
"Appointment?" he squawked. "I never made a damn app—"
"Oh, shut up," I grumbled, never releasing my grip on his collar as I hauled him down the stairs and towards the kitchen of the Griffith home.
Marie and her brother happened to pass us and while she gave a shriek, Griffith spurted out a laugh and surprisingly congratulated me for my method of making Mister Bennett a sober and healthy young man.
"What are you doing!" shrilled Marie, rushing forward to snatch Bennett away from me. Her womanly fretting was beginning to get on my nerves, and so Jack Barlow the "Enchanter" had to pull a bit of his tricks in order to calm the worrisome woman.
"My dear," I began, pausing and looking back at her. "I ensure you that your fiancé will not be harmed in any way whatsoever. I am merely doing you a favor by ridding the evils of alcohol from his body." For the sake of my act, I gave her a wink and she was instantly tamed and giggled with growing pink on her face. Realizing the horrible position I had just put myself in, I turned about and proceeded to bring Bennett to the kitchen, where a tub of cold water was waiting for him.
"Jack," said Bennett, wobbling behind me as I continued to tug on his shirt collar. "I'm sorry, I—"
"It is much too late for that, Bennie. Come now. Be a good boy and follow my lead." To show him that I was not in the least bit kidding around, I pulled on his shirt all the harder, making him jerk forward with a muffled choke and we paraded through the swinging doors of the kitchen.
"Pay us no mind," I ordered the working servants, and the command was easily obeyed after the maids took one long, wide gaze at us before shakily resuming their work. I was positive that they thought me mad.
The tub of water I had asked to be ready was waiting by the back door of the kitchen that led into the gardens. I kicked the tub of water, which knocked into the swinging door and pried it open a bit, and I continued to do so until the tub was out under the blinding morning sun with us right behind it.
"Jack," mumbled Bennett, trudging behind me and taking a breather as he knelt down on the ground. I had truly surprised and pushed the boy rather harshly. "What are you doing?" he panted, looking up at me with an innocence in his eyes that almost moved me to reconsider my punishment for him. But then I remembered that he had resolved to drinking to solve his problems, and I replied to his blameless remark with a shrug of my shoulders.
"Sorry, Bennie," I said bluntly, "but this is for yer own good, lad." And I pulled fiercely on his collar and dunked him into the cold water, soaking his body from the shoulders up.
"Jack!" he yelled, his hands gripping on the edge of the tub to keep me from pushing his head back under. "Stop! What's this about! I—" I let go of his shirt and placed a hand on his head and gripped his hair tightly, but not too tightly as to pull out some of those soft chestnut brown strands, but strong enough to get him wincing and vulnerable again. With a sigh, I pushed his head back under to give him another waking rinse and let him bob his head back out with the water dripping from his face and hair.
"Ya had enough?" I demanded, bringing his tired, rueful face close to mine. I peered suspiciously at him, sticking my chin out a bit to appear as if I was not yet pleased, and he said what I expected him to say. He said, "Yes, I have."
"All rightey then." I shoved his face back into the water for one last time and watched as he struggled to get back out, which I very well let him do after a few seconds. I didn't know why, but I found a wet Bennett a very attractive man. I almost had the urge to give him a hug and kiss on the cheek and happily say, "'Twas just a joke, love!" but I knew Marie and Griffith were not far off. Thus, for once, I missed the few luxuries of being a girl.
As soon as his head surfaced, his lips quivering from the cold and his hair sticking to the edges of his fair countenance, I gave him a firm slap on the back, producing another moan from his mouth, and he sat back, ignoring the frigidity of the water and looking at me with more of a prostrated than riled visage.
Wearily, he spoke. "What is this about, Jack?" he asked, almost letting it out as a breath. He even collapsed onto the cool grass beneath him, too aching and worn from his night of tippling to sit upright anymore. "If it has anything to do with what happened last night then—"
"Stop, Bennett," I ordered. "It does concern what you did last night, and since you were gone for the whole night with no clue as to how things took place after your abrupt and rude departure, then I'll tell you."
"God dammit, Jack," he groaned, covering his eyes with his arm in an attempt to either block out the sunlight or to refrain from seeing my face. "I don't need you, of all people, to lecture me."
"Well, Benito, it looks like ye have no choice, 'cause I'm gonna be lecturing you anyway, whether you like it or not. And do not make the stupid protest that I am sounding too much like a parent, because it seems as though you have forgotten what it is like to have one."
He ignored me and rolled onto his side, so that I would have to be content with talking to his back instead of to his grumbling face.
"And even now you are avoiding the matter, which I find quite childlike if you ask me, Benito." His sole reply was a mumbled arrangement of curses. "Seeing that you don't mind me continuing, I'll just go on to how awful you made the Clydes feel, especially Ian's wife, who, might I add, is pregnant." I darted a harsh look at him but his back was still turned to me, so with a roll of my eyes I pressed on. "You had the nerve to stress her with your exit on the dinner she prepared especially for you and your family. Now, if I recall, that is something one would call rude. And, oh dear," I scoffed. "Mister Bennett was rude for once? The apocalypse must be near! The world is gonna end!" I heard him snort at the joke and I grinned to myself.
"Now, despite the fact that you disgraced your father and humiliated the Clydes, they still couldn't help but feel responsible for you and so all of them, including your father, stayed up well into the night, hoping for your return. Even I was stupid enough to do the same." I felt my own anger at him boiling up, and he seemed to take note of it with a more curled back.
"By God, your father stayed up until midnight, Ian stayed up until two, and you know how long I stayed up for you, you ungrateful, spoiled, bleeding piece of horse manure! I stayed up until five waiting for you to come back and here Miss Prissy Marie informs me that you got yourself absolutely sottish to the point of lunacy! Well, isn't that just the best picture of who you are, Bennett. I am positive it is."
Silence followed. Not even a peep or another grouch of annoyance came from him. He merely continued to lie on the grass, body curled and face shadowed away from the sun.
"Bennie," I sighed, through with the lecture and moving on to the sympathy I felt that he needed. "I understand that yer dad ain't the best fellow in the world. Mine isn't either. But you got his blood in you, mate, so you'll have to square with that one day. If you hate your father, you hate yourself. And I dunno about you, but I'm not one for hating meself. Some things you can't change, Bennie."
He didn't reply directly after. I heard a soft sniffle come from him and I knew he was thinking about what I said. He always did. Ever since my first true conversation with him, he knew never to underestimate the words of Jack Barlow. And although I knew he despised being scolded, especially by me, he still understood that there was a meaning behind everything. And finally, I heard something come from him.
"I wish I could," he murmured, before getting up to his feet and hobbling back to the backdoor of the kitchen and shutting it behind him.
Oh, Bennett, I thought, looking at the door with heavy, remorseful eyelids. I wish I could tell you how I understand. But he was in no mood to be told that Jack Barlow was really Astrid Turner Sparrow. The moment would come eventually, and I hoped it would come soon.
Miss Marie Griffith insisted that I stay until Bennett was in a gentler frame of mind, and with Griffith right behind her listening and giving me that overly protective brotherly glare, I had no choice but to surrender to her wishes despite how mortifying they were. I was in a very bad place if Marie Griffith honestly fancied Jack Barlow, which she should not have been anyway. What kind of a woman wouldn't mind having a man like Bennett? I sure didn't. Yet apparently, Miss Marie had eyes for younger prey.
A soft gurgling noise came from my stomach and I writhed inside at my lack of food. I could not possibly ask Marie for any food because I would never ever catch myself dead eating food from Griffith's home. The delectable items offered to me could have very well been poisoned. And so I had no other option but to contain my hunger and hope that Roland saved me breakfast just as I had asked him.
"Jack," said Marie, noticing the frown on my face. "Are you all right?" She sat across from me, her brow slightly wrinkled at my strange behavior with a book resting in her lap. She closed it and placed it on the small table between us and got up from her seat, approaching me. "Are you hungry? I could send for tea a bit early if that would make you happier." I bit my lip, feeling my mouth water at the offer and recalling the wonderful taste of tea and biscuits and—no. I had to stay strong.
"I'm fine, Miss," I managed, my stomach rumbling all the louder. "I think it's about time I got Bennett an' head outta here."
I didn't even get the chance to stand up because Marie immediately stood in front of my path and stopped me. "Bennett's not ready to leave yet," she said, her voice rising as she realized her plan to get what she wanted was not working perfectly.
"Actually," said a voice directly behind her. With a squeal, she gasped and spun around, giving me the opportunity to get up. With both hands covering her open mouth she met eyes with her supposed fiancé, Bennett. "I'm quite ready to leave," he said, dressed back into his uniform and looking quite clean and handsome.
"Oh, but you can't leave, Gareth," she said, coming close to him and resting her arm across his shoulder and looking up at him with a pout and watering eyes. I twitched inside at the action. And I thought Alexandra Westley was bad enough. "You've barely spent any time with me. Please, stay. We can take a carriage 'round to the shore and stroll about and—" I refused to listen to anymore of her seductive lies. Bennett was an idiot to believe a word she said, and so why was I not surprised when he decided to stay and please his lovely darling?
"Jack," he said, grinning with a blushing face as Marie clung to him, her white, gloved hand resting on his chest. I almost exploded, which was odd because there was no reason for me to feel jealous. After all, Bennett was just a friend. I had Adam… wherever the damn brute was. "Do you mind staying?" he asked. Marie sent me a sly look, as if she expected me to say yes, and I could only grind my teeth. I could have swatted her pretty face.
"No, sir," I replied with little hesitation, but by the look on my face I couldn't have been angrier.
"Good!" cried Marie. "Bennett, darling, I'd love a song. Would you play for me?"
Bennett, although a bit stunned by her sudden outburst, quietly obliged and made his way to the grand pianoforte in the room, Marie's stare not tracing his steps (as I was), but rather keeping her eyes on the side of my head.
"What shall I play?" he asked gruffly, not at all happy with what was going on. Marie took a few swift steps forward and laid her piercing blue eyes on me, and I regretted ever meeting her.
"A minuet, Gareth. And Jack," she said, leaning forward to me. "Will you dance with me while Bennett plays?" Absolutely not, you horrid little wench!
"Of course he will," said a voice entering the room. Griffith marched in primly, a glass of some drink in his hands and nonchalantly took a sip and gestured for me to dance with his sister. I assumed Bennett was already burning in flames, but I had no choice. Griffith ordered it, and whatever Griffith wanted, he got, or those who disobeyed him would be beaten senseless or killed. And I treasured my life too much to be insubordinate.
Reluctantly, I joined hands with Marie, growing sicker to my stomach with every wink and smile she gave me.
Oh Lord, help me.
Well, it was no shocking ordeal that as soon as I shared a dance with Marie that Bennett could no longer tolerate the interaction and did not waste a second to haul me out of the Griffiths' property. But I didn't mind being thrown out because Bennett decided it was time he head back to Nattie and Ian's home anyway. Though, by the looks of it, he would have rather wanted to kill me than go back to his friend's residence.
He didn't bother to borrow one of Griffith's carriages, though I honestly would have liked to have ridden in one on account of all the walking I did that morning to find him. But the exalted young Mister Bennett was as stubborn as any man, no matter how kind and gentle he might have been most of the time. He merely stomped down the driveway, nearly dragging me with him, for my clumsy feet could not keep up with his pace.
"Bennett," I began, trying to wrench my arm from his grasp, but it seemed as though he felt responsible for keeping an eye on me, which would normally be how it was done. But in most cases, I found myself looking out for him. "I think you're about to pop my arm from its joint, mate," I teased with a wincing grin.
He spoke not a word, but released his grip on my arm, and I gave my shoulder a few good rubs while following him. "Now, I don't know why you're so upset," I mumbled, keeping a good distance between us. Friend or not, I knew when to stay out of Bennett's way and not to, especially after his profound argument with his haggard father.
Silence again.
"If you think that I should know the reason why you are angry with me then give me a nod, Bennie." But the poor lad would not even do that effortless action for me. Although it was like me to hit him back for his refusal to speak and to berate him for being such an ass, I held my tongue and stayed my hands. Benito, you fool. You are my friend and I lo—
I shook my head at the thought.
True, Bennie was almost the best friend anyone could have and I loved him as such in many ways. Yet, for the oddest reason, I just wanted to embrace him and apologize with the stupidest hope of being returned the affection. Oh, shut up, Astrid. Bennett is engaged and you are promised to a fine young man named Adam Locke who is oceans away from you. It was hard to be around so many men and not feel the slightest bit loved like a true girl, and again my lost girlish comforts were haunting me. "Bennie," I said again.
He moved onward, not even turning his head back to look at me. And my urge to let fly that hug was making me shake. Why on earth was I feeling so guilty? It was not like I betrayed him in any way. Besides, it was his Marie who had invited me to dance, so why was he angry with me?
An apology was yearning to pop from my lips, but I dug my teeth into my tongue to keep it from happening. Please talk to me, Bennett. I'm willing to understand if you'd but give me the chance. There are many people out there who love you. Even I, l—
"I'm sorry, Bennett." It almost came out as a yell to ensure that he'd hear me, and he did.
He came to a halt and slowly turned around to me, his face expressionless but seemingly harder than the stone of a cold statue's face. His eyes bore into mine for but a few seconds and then the image of his shining blue orbs vanished into the air.
"Are you going to go in?" he asked, and I wondered what he was talking about. Then it came to my attention that we stood at the base of the Clydes' driveway and as my eyes followed the dirt path to Nattie's front porch, I spotted the familiar, but distant faces of my companions.
"If you go too," I answered, the closest thing I could get to an embrace to show him that I was sincere being a mere rub on his shoulder. And even when I did it, his stiff shoulder barely budged with submission.
So I left him to follow me while I hurried up the driveway, being welcomed back by my mates. And as wonderful as it was to finally have Bennett back and to be the one who brought him, my heart still felt the vaguest sort of malcontent, as if something was missing, but I didn't know what.
"Another serving, sir?" rang a small voice in my left ear. My eyes shot up from my plate of food and to the maid and the serving tray in her hands beside me.
"No, thank you," I managed, before looking back to my unfinished meal and poking my fork weakly into the cooked eggs and sausage and other rich food.
"And you, sir?" I heard the maid say to the man sitting across from me.
"No," answered the man. "I'm quite content. But thank you." And with the soft rustle of skirts, the maid exited the room, leaving me and the man alone to finish our meal.
Obviously, the man I was dining with was none other than Bennett, the both of us being the ones who did not receive a filling breakfast. Roland, Dobbin and Andre had left some while ago to take a better tour of the city, and so I could not return to their jolly selves to escape my problems with Bennett.
I slipped another handful of food onto my fork and was about to shove it into my face, but my mouth wouldn't open. My stomach was knotting with an odd mix of feelings, and I was in no mood to decipher what they were. I felt… unstable and embarrassed, but for what reason?
With a moan, I dropped my fork and shoved the plate away from me when I realized my foot was shaking. Dammit, can't I be relaxed and normal and at ease for one bloody second! "Tell Nattie and her cook that the food was wonderful," I murmured before scooting out of my seat and out of the dining hall.
"Remember Jack, Astrid," I whispered to myself as I stepped into the den. "Remember that song… that song… your lullaby. Your favorite song in the world that Jack taught you. Remember why you're here and don't be a stupid girl and get carried away with the men." I didn't bother to check the room for anyone. The only people I feared were Bennett and Andre and neither of them was within hearing range.
I walked over to Ian's lovely pianoforte and sat my bottom on its polished bench before tapping the keys as I let my annoyance and pressure flow away. "Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me."
I searched the long line of black and white keys for one that could start the tune, and through a strategy of guess and check, I eventually found the right key and fumbled my way to playing the tune that lulled me to sleep as a baby.
Suddenly, a piece of paper fell from the music rest above the keyboard, disrupting the movement of my index finger across the keys, and I picked it up, looking at the page. The song was titled, "My Love is like a Red, Red Rose."
"I wonder how this goes," I said aloud, examining the notes on the withered page. I sang the first word, and frowned. It didn't seem in key, and I had no Miss Smith to tell me to go higher or lower. But then again, I was never good at reading music from the beginning.
"My Love is like a Red, Red Rose," said a person behind me, and I nearly jumped from shock at the voice. I whisked my head around and saw Bennett standing behind me, his eyes on the sheet of music stuck in my hands. "It's a Scottish tune, undoubtedly Ian's."
"How's it go?" I asked, forgetting that he was angry with me. I had become so absorbed in the musical moment that I decided to forgive him. After all, the lad was finally talking to me again. I normally would have replied with a, "hmph!" but for the sake of friendship, I didn't. "Do you know?"
"Perhaps you should have Ian play it. He's the one with the Scottish ancestry."
"He had a tiresome night. I'd rather not disturb him more, sir," I said, my guilt getting a hold of me again. I truly had a larger conscience than I did before, and I wasn't sure if I liked it very much. But I wanted to spend more time with Bennett; just enough to get us back to mates. So I decided a little humility was needed. "Ye see, Ben, I started t'sing it, but I believe I'm off key. Ye can play the notes and—"
"Well," huffed Bennett, interrupting me and taking a seat on the bench. "If you are going to push me, I might as well." I carefully placed the music sheet on the wooden rest before his eyes and gave him his space to play the song. "The English will hate me for this," he said with a bit of sarcasm. And I only replied, saying, "I'm English, Bennie, and I don't hate ye one bit." But that only made him blush. I really needed to be more of a man and less of a girl if I was going to protect myself.
He raised his long, tanned fingers onto the keys and as if counting a steady beat in his head he began to play and sing the sweet Scottish air.
O, my love is like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June;
O, my love is like a melody
That's sweetly played in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in love am I;
And I will love thee still, my dear,
till all the seas gone dry.
Till all the seas gone dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt with the sun;
And I will love thee still, my dear,
While the sands of life shall run.
But fare thee well, my only love!
O, fare thee well awhile!
And I will come again, my love,
Though 'twere ten thousand mile.
Though 'twere then thousand mile, my love,
Though 'twere ten thousand mile,
And I will come again, my love,
Though 'twere ten thousand mile.
My mouth sat a-gape and speechless as his lovely hands came to a stop, and his voice had sadly died away. Bennett had certainly held out on his mates for I had never heard such a voice sing! Miss Smith would have loved this boy! And the words he sang were sung with feeling as if he meant whatever he was saying, but I knew he wasn't. All he had to do probably was remember his Marie. Though, I honestly wished that he had sung such a romantic tune to me.
"Bennett, you wily little bastard!" I shrieked attacking him with a playful beat on his shoulders. "Since when did ye learn t'sing like that! My God! Twas like a voice from the heavens!" He smirked timidly, aware of his talent but afraid to be an arrogant bloke and admitting it.
"Thank you, Barlow," he mumbled. And just to lighten him up a bit, I peered at him suspiciously with squinted eyes.
"Yer not a eunuch are you?" Immediately his eyes blazed but I countered it by laying a hand on his shoulder and cracking a grin. "I'm jus' toyin' wi' ye, Benito. But by God, can you sing."
"I had a very good teacher, Jack."
"Yes, I know. It wa' Ian. I ain't got a dull memory. Go on, play another one," I urged, stupidly inching closer to him on the piano bench. And as soon as I averted my eyes back to his hands to see if they'd start tapping the keys again, I noticed a strange ring on his right hand.
Something about it was so bloody familiar. There was the thick golden band and crimson jewel pasted directly in the middle with strange engravings winding around it.
"What are you looking at?" asked Bennie, and I shook a bit and pointed at his hand.
"Your… ring. It's… I dunno. I know I've seen that before…" Without his permission, I leaned forward and cautiously reached out to touch that ring. Where had I seen it before? To solve the mystery, I looked deep into my memory for any times a ring was mentioned, and the very first thing that came up to mind was Adam's ring.
Immediately, my hands went to my neck and broke the chain that held Adam's ring and I brought it out, letting it dangle in the air. "I have one jus' like it," I said, beaming with elevating bliss. "Can I see yours?" With a shrug, he slipped it off his finger and placed it into the palm of my hand, and I brought both gems close to my eyes for precise examination.
They rings were identical. Identical. Not a difference between them. They weighed about the same, had the same ruby smack-dab in the middle, and the swirling carvings in the gold. "My God, Bennie," I breathed. "Our rings are the same! Look!"
The lad had no opportunity to stare with disbelief for I instantly took hold of his face and brought it close to the rings. He peered thoroughly at them, letting them roll in his fingers, tossing them up a bit to check the weight, and after a few tests, he too exclaimed with amazement that they were identical.
"Where did you get yours? I got mine from an admirer," I said eagerly.
"It was a few years ago," he said, still looking at the rings with wrinkled brows. "I was in the Caribbean. Barely stepped foot on land when a man rushed passed me and thrust the ring into my hand. It was almost as if he… he wanted to be rid of it. Of course, by the way he dressed, I assumed it was something he obtained from recently captured plunder."
"A pirate?" I squawked, my eyes widening with the hope. All my mind was thinking at that moment was Jack! Jack! Jack!
"Probably. He wore a red bandana around his head and a bone was in his dark, clumping hair. But he swaggered off after giving me the ring. I didn't know what to do with it, and it seemed to have some value, so I decided to keep it," he replied, not really seeing the excitement in such a discovery. He was even about ready to take his back, when I closed my fingers around both rings and brought them to my chest.
"Ye ain't gonna get this back," I yelled. "They're a clue, God dammit, an' I'm keeping it."
"A clue to what?" he inquired, ready to take back his ring, but I got up from the bench and backed away from him.
"Nothing you'd be interested in," I growled, opening my hand a bit to take another glimpse of the jewels.
And that was when I saw the strange markings inside the loop of the rings.
There was more!
"There's writing inside the ring!" I screamed, rushing to Bennett and showing him. "They're words but I can't read it. 'Tis too small." Bennett gave me a look and happily snatched his ring back and narrowed his eyes on the writing.
"That's odd…" he whispered.
"What is?" I asked, about to get back the ring, but he knew me too well and moved it back when my hand reached for it.
"It says… 'Ruby Red Horizon. Life's Treasure A Brilliant Fool…" He took Adam's ring and read the rest. "… 'No Gold Or Silver Can Match. The Pirate's Hidden Jewel'."
I… could… have… fainted.
"Good Lord!" I screamed. "It leads to a treasure!" I leapt into the air and gave a few booming whoops and twirled about, pleased to the point of euphoria. "Don'tcha see it, Bennie!" I took his hand and hauled him up and tried to get him to jump around with me but he wouldn't do it. He was too shocked (or embarrassed) to follow my lead.
"Oh, yer hopeless," I muttered. And with a quick swipe of my hand the rings were filched from his hand and into mine.
Jack! Jack! Jack! I'm on my way!