Days passed and the ship sailed approaching White Cap Bay. I didn't speak to Hector again after I walked out of the room that night. He didn't try to force me to stay or try to talk to me after. The next morning, I found my hat that had been tossed forgotten on the floor during our argument had been left behind outside of the crew's quarters. I picked it up to put it on and a tiny piece of parchment flew out. Before anyone else could see it, I snatched it up and slipped it into the pocket of my jacket. I was in no hurry hear or read to anything else he had to say. I had heard everything I needed to in the room the night before.
I Allowed the unread words to lay almost forgotten in my pocket for days until one night while I was on watch. I stood along the side of the ship, gazing out across the open sea. The rest of the crew were in their quarters, or so I thought until I heard a voice come from behind me.
"Frightful bad luck to have a woman aboard," I heard a voice say from behind me.
"Then it's a good thing I'm not a woman. Isn't it, Master Gibbs?" I said in my practiced masculine voice.
"Aye, a right fair stroke of luck that is if you ask me," he agreed. He showed no signs, but I knew that he had figured out who I was. Being in such a position as he was in (as our prisoner) I didn't think there was any harm in him knowing.
"But ya know, the Capt'n doesn't believe in such superstitions as I."
"Dosen't he?" I asked, turning to look in his direction.
"Nay. In fact, the first time I voiced such opinions in his presence, he near cut out me tongue."
"What stopped him?"
"Why, the very same creature I had spoke the words against," he answered. "His wife."
I gave him a strange look, but it didn't seem to effect him. After a few moments of silence, I decided to speak again. By then, I figured it was the only chance I had of finding out why he was bringing up the matter now.
"I didn't know the captain was married," I said, unintentionally allowing bitterness escape even in my disguised masculine tone. Once again, I was glad the majority of the crew was asleep in their quarters and unable to hear what was being said.
"Most people don't. For reputation's sake, they mostly both keep it 'tween themselves."
"And what is she like, this wife of the captain?"
Master Gibbs looked at me, like I had asked him a question that was impossible to answer, but he must have known I would ask. He glanced above where we stood, near the helm of the ship, then back to me and past to the dark sea in the distance.
"Well, she's a stubborn creature, to be sure. A woman would have to be, you know, to stay with a man through all they've weathered."
"I suppose so," I granted this fact about myself.
"But that ain't all of it. She's never had eyes for anyone else save him, nor him for anyone else either."
"Seems impossible…."
"Aye, but its so, I tell ya," he insisted. "Anyone who so much as catches a glance of them together knows as much."
I again looked at him, partially in amazement. Hector and I had always kept our marriage out of sight while in front of a crew. We had never called each other by anything less formal than 'Captain' and 'Ma'am' in the presence of anyone else. Had we really failed so miserably in keeping our life a secret? Was everything as obvious as he said? I tried to think back, but when I was honest with myself, I couldn't tell. I had to accept that his words were just as likely as not.
"Is that really so?" I asked him.
"Aye," he answered. I nodded as the man turned and began to walk away from where he had stood. "I best be gettin' below deck now and leave ya to yer watch. I suspect you've heard more of my notions than ye cared to anyhow."
I turned back in the direction of the sea, not speaking another word as the sound of his boots against the planks of the ship filled the night air. When they ceased and there was silence around me once again, I suddenly remembered the pocket of my coat the piece of parchment that was lying inside it. Quietly, I pulled it out and allowed my finger to unfold it gently. By the light of the moon, I could just barely decipher the words written inside if it.
'Si quieres el perro, acepta las pulgas.'
Instantly, I knew everything about the words was Hector's. The handwriting, the points and curls were unmistakable. But just as familiar as the script it was written in were the words written on the parchment. It was a Spanish proverb, as old as the language itself. 'If you want the dog, accept the fleas.' I had heard my parents say it to each other as a child for years before I had left home. When they would fight, begin to bicker about trivial things, it would always end with those exact words. 'Accept the fleas'… accept the one you love with all their faults.
The phrase had reappeared years later when I met Hector. He had asked me to teach him Spanish and for some reason, those had been among the first I had taught him. When had he asked me to married him, I had repeated the words before I gave him my answer. Now, I found my own words were being used against me as plea for forgiveness. Everything was deafeningly quiet now. It was as if the entire world was awaiting me to react, to decide what to do with the words. However, the trouble was, I had no idea what to do with them. For the moment, I sighed and continued to look out at the moon shining along the ocean.