Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J. K. Rowling

Note: sex scenes in Part 2 of this story

Part 2/Chapter 16

Over the next days, Bellamy remained silent, and too often trembled. Every evening, he'd look at Mario with an anxious, unspoken question, and Mario would reassure him that they wouldn't be going to the spa-room that night, or ever again. The others had lost a lot of interest in him now that he was no longer potentially available for sex, but felt a responsibility, as well as an affection. He was well guarded, and had no opportunity to dive into the water again. He was beginning to eat again, and Esta was pleased that he seemed calmer, but told Mario that he was to bring him to see her every week for a while, as he'd done when he'd first joined them.

The six men had kept very much to themselves while their obsession with Bellamy had gripped them, but over the next weeks, they circulated more, and Bellamy began to be better known by others of the crew. But there was always at least one of the six with him, more usually two, both to make sure he didn't jump overboard again, and to ensure he didn't talk too freely - not that there was ever much fear of that with Bellamy.

Three weeks after his bid to leave the ship, Mario and Angelo watched him with a great deal of relief, as he laughed and played with the twins in the swimming pool.

"He smiles again," said Mario. And that night, Nino shampooed the long hair, and afterwards dried it and combed it out. They were touching him again, but there was a different quality in the touching, and it no longer strayed into the sexual. The penalty for rape was severe, and they'd had a close call. Angelo sometimes wondered how much further the investigation would have gone if Bellamy had shown any injury, such as the mild tear that Bruno had left Silvio with. Or, of course, if Bellamy had not so decisively said that he'd not been raped.

As the weeks went by, Bellamy became more alert, and people might have forgotten that he was supposed to be retarded, except that his gaze was still always slightly unfocused, making him seem younger than he was, vulnerable. Every night, he snuggled into the warmth of Mario's big, warm body, and the contact pushed back the great pain that was within him. The clouds of confusion had protected him from the pain, but were no longer so much needed. He still didn't know his past, although stray and confusing memories would sometimes surface. He remembered none of the people of his past, but sometimes he remembered the animals. Dogs - Tammy, Dobes, and horses - a mare called Sheba, and one called Mischief. Others. But when and where he'd known them were always hidden in the mists.

Often, when in port, some of the cabin-mates would visit a brothel. For most it was a rare treat - too expensive. They didn't dream of taking Bellamy, and he was still not allowed off the Crew Deck by himself, and certainly not allowed onshore by himself. He was notorious after his swim, and even those of the crew who'd scarcely spoken to him, kept an eye on him, mostly a fairly benign eye. Some were critical or contemptuous of the imbecile. They all knew who he was.

Even in Morocco, a predominantly Muslim country, there was a brothel, which Bruno highly recommended. They rarely visited Casablanca, and the cabin-mates decided to go on the all day tour the passengers were to enjoy. It took some arranging for them all to get the day off together, but it was arranged. Bellamy was to be left behind. His tendency to wander off was a nuisance, and afterward, they were all going to the famous brothel.

Mario took Bellamy to Chivas that morning, and left him in his charge. Bellamy worked that day with two men he scarcely knew. He was less comfortable, and almost silent, but worked methodically and well. Chivas approved. At the other end of the hold, more freight was being loaded. Inglis, the First Officer, was having language problems. A Moroccan was speaking volubly, waving his arms and raising his voice, as if that might aid communication. Half a dozen Arab labourers stood around sullenly. Inglis looked around in desperation. He was getting nowhere.

A voice spoke beside him. "They're saying they won't load it because it might have pork in it."

Inglis looked stunned at the man who was supposed to be simple. "You speak Arabic?"

Chivas suddenly noticed that Bellamy was gone, and came striding after him. The big freight deck was wide open to the wharf, an easy escape, but no place for a man who needed looking after. But to Inglis, Bellamy was a godsend, and all the rest of the day, he was beside him, interpreting. He knew more than the language, too. The religious problems with the non-existent pork were overcome with an extra allowance, as Bellamy had somehow known they would be.

Chivas found it a lot harder to keep a watch on Bellamy, but Inglis told him he'd take responsibility. Chivas was doubtful. Inglis didn't seem to him to be watching him nearly closely enough. But after all, Bellamy was showing no inclination to go ashore. He'd gone to the railing after a tea-break, but when Chivas went to him, he'd only commented on the filth in the water, and pointed, "There's a dead man down there." Chivas could see nothing, but the comment made it seem most unlikely that he'd be jumping overboard.

Captain Guido came to check up on the nearly completed work late that afternoon, and Inglis commended Bellamy. "Henry speaks the language - and very well."

Bellamy was staring away from Guido. His threat to have him committed had been several weeks ago, but was not forgotten.

Guido guessed at his fear, and spoke gently, "It's all right, Henry, You've done well."

They finished late, and Chivas made sure that Bellamy went to his room. Bellamy seemed quite comfortable without the close attention of his friends, only showering and changing, and dropping his work clothing of the day into the laundry basket. Mario had said that Bellamy should be locked in whenever he was left alone, but Chivas wasn't intending to do that yet, and stayed with him, even taking him with him as he went to his own cabin to shower and change for dinner. They went to the large recreation room afterwards, until a message came from the Captain. Bellamy was to present himself in his white uniform, and join him at the Captain's table for dinner. There were language problems. Chivas looked doubtfully at the simple boy, but had to admit he hadn't seemed simple that day.

To Guido's surprise, Bellamy seemed perfectly comfortable in the First Class dining room, and translated whenever required, easily and fluently. It was only when the Moroccan started questioning him on his own account that he became observably uncomfortable, until the man desisted. The dinner extended, and Bellamy was still on translating duties through the evening, as the small gathering relaxed in some deck chairs next to one of the swimming pools.

The Captain's guests left late. Captain Guido thanked Bellamy, and dismissed him, wondering if he ever smiled.

Bellamy was unfamiliar with much of the ship, as he was never allowed anywhere but the Crew Deck except in company. But he found his way back all right, hearing some loud cheering from the recreation room, but looking for the warmth of his own cabin. It wasn't there. He wandered up and down the corridor where he'd been so often, and felt for it with his senses. His cabin wasn't there. In the end, disconsolate, he wandered off, and sat on the open deck, all alone.

Chivas checked his cabin later, to make sure that he was all right, remembering, guiltily, that he was supposed to be locked in. He wasn't there, and Inglis told him that the Captain's guests had left an hour ago. He finally found him curled up in a small alcove on the open deck, asleep. He woke him, and asked, "Why aren't you in your own cabin?"

Bellamy replied simply that it was gone.

To Chivas, he'd seemed so normal all day, that he'd stopped worrying about him. It seemed that Mario knew him better than he did. Even when he led Bellamy back to his own cabin, Bellamy looked around sadly, and said, "This is not my cabin,"

"What do you mean, it's not your cabin?" demanded Chivas.

"My cabin is warm," explained Bellamy. "This is not my cabin," and turned to wander off.

Chivas was getting exasperated. "It's your cabin. Look, here are your things. There is your bed."

Bellamy was looking increasingly vague, and stared into the distance.

Chivas said, "Look, it's late. Mario and the others will be back, soon."

Bellamy shook his head. "They're not coming back. They got old and died."

Chivas stared, and said very gently, "People don't get old and die in a day!"

But Bellamy replied, very sadly, and with a total conviction, "Yes. They do."

He was obviously not going to settle down in the cabin that he said was not his, so Chivas stayed with him in the small TV room, until six men returned an hour later, very merry, and returning the warmth to the cabin that Bellamy so needed. Chivas was tired and fed up, and left them with scarcely a word.

Inglis spoke to Chivas again the following day. Captain Guido was going ashore to do some business with the Harbour master. Bellamy was wanted, in white uniform, straight after lunch.

Bellamy was working not far away, with Taddeo and Bruno, both of them looking rather red-eyed, and yawning now and then.

Chivas was concerned, and tried to make it clear to Inglis that Bellamy had to be better looked after. Inglis said that he seemed fine, and Chivas wound up telling him how he'd become so lost the previous night. Inglis had worked with Bellamy most of the previous day, and had even been with the Captain and his guests for a time the previous evening. It was hard to believe that afterwards, he had become so confused.

Chivas felt bad when Inglis took him to see the Captain, and he was asked to repeat the story. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything, but he was filled with alarm that Bellamy might wind up getting lost in this port. He suspected that men who might be lost and confused would not fare well in Morocco.

Captain Guido listened carefully, and suggested one of Bellamy's friends could accompany them, just to keep an eye on Bellamy. Chivas was relieved. Bellamy's friends would not let him come to harm. But Captain Guido was very thoughtful. He'd be with Bellamy that afternoon, maybe he'd know him better afterward.

Bellamy just nodded when he was told he was to go ashore with the Captain, although Taddeo and Bruno were rather stunned. They looked at each other when they were asked who'd like to go with him, and Bruno said that he'd best do it. Taddeo nodded. The way that Bruno and Angelo had given Bellamy lessons in obedience, had not gone unnoticed, except by Mario. Taddeo and Bruno didn't see any of the others at lunch, though they were impatient to tell them about the unexpected talent of Bellamy.

In the early afternoon, immaculate in white uniforms, Bruno and Bellamy reported to the Captain. Guido looked at them, said, "Good!" and explained what they'd be doing. It would probably not take long, just some business that he had to sort out, and having a good interpreter was a lot better than limping along in a language that neither knew well.

Guido was a little surprised that Bellamy didn't seem at all over-awed by his surroundings, but remembered that he'd not been fazed at last night's dinner table, either. He wished he knew more of his history. What was he, just twenty-three, twenty-four? And somewhere he'd learned to fight superlatively well, his body scars showed evidence of a very chequered past, and he knew German and was fluent in Arabic. Doctor Raef had told him that she was sure now that he was not feeble-minded, that something else was responsible for the confusion and vagueness that he showed.

Bruno was silent, deeply impressed, as the boy he still thought of as simple, competently translated for Guido and the stout harbour master. And when difficulties persisted, merely said to the Captain that he should offer a bribe, suggested a figure, and said that it was always claimed to be for 'the extra expenses of additional paperwork.'

Guido blinked at the simple solution to complex problems, and did as Bellamy suggested. Difficulties were miraculously sorted out, and the business was finished. Guido was very pleased with Bellamy, and suggested that he and Bruno should go for a walk if they wanted, while he spent some time with a fellow Captain from another ship, and they were to report back to him in two hours.

But Bellamy wandered off when Bruno was distracted, changed all his money into small denominations, and gave some to every beggar he passed. Once his money ran out, he began to realise he was lost, and stared around him, wanting his friends. He didn't think to find his way back to the docks, but just sat on the pavement, his back to a wall, and stared into the distance. After a while, he started to tremble. He didn't want to be alone.

Bruno found him again only because a group of seamen from another ship were talking about the lone man. They were late back, and Bruno was furious with him. When Guido asked Bruno what had happened, he said bitterly, "Ask Bellamy."

Guido asked Bellamy. Bellamy stared into the distance vaguely, but replied to the repeated question. "I got lost!"

Guido was looking at him narrowly, and said nothing further.

But Mario hugged him and made a fuss of him when he got back, and after a while, Bruno suspected that he'd forgotten he was in disgrace. There'd been two more sets of white uniforms sent down for him, too. Chivas had arranged it, although they were leaving Casablanca in the morning.

Captain Guido had a visit that evening from the friend for whom Bellamy had translated the night before. This time, he brought his own translator. He wanted to know all about the young man, Bellamy, and when Guido said that he wasn't normal, maybe a bit simple, said happily that that was fine with him, and offered to buy him. When Guido got over his shock, he said that Bellamy was absolutely not for sale. A very large amount of money was offered. Guido was adamant, and incurred some animosity from the wealthy man from a very different culture.

Inglis was astounded when he told him, but then said thoughtfully that maybe his past included something like that. Maybe he'd been released when he became a little too old for someone's taste. It was something else for Guido to consider. The boy was confused, he was apt to wander off and get lost, and he could be prey. He could not look after himself, but he was useful, and apparently happy now, on board ship, and he decided just to leave things as they were.

Bellamy was not needed for translating duties once they left Casablanca, and his unexpected talent began to be forgotten. The extra uniforms were carefully put away, not needed, and Bellamy continued to perform the simple manual work he'd been put to from the beginning.

***chapter end***