Chapter 4: Un
"I refuse to set foot on that thing ever again," Wufei said one day in February when we were having dinner at the inn after a long day of work. Quatre had all but taken over the kitchens, churning out surprisingly palatable seafood creations that had the islanders smacking their lips in delight. Trowa had definitely gained some pounds, I noticed. Then again, his plate was always heaped high with the best pieces. Lucky bastard.
„Wufei, that's part of our cover," Trowa said through a mouthful of food, but Wufei was stubborn.
"For three months we've been stuck on this metal ship. It's only a matter of time until it'll start to behave like proper metal and sink like it's supposed to! Doc J isn't simply cursed like Duo—he's just insane!"
"Thank you," I said dryly.
"You're welcome."
"Quatre has already searched the house from the top floor to the basement," Trowa replied. "He found nothing."
"But— we've been here for months and haven't made any progress at all," Wufei whined.
Trowa sighed and chewed thoughtfully on a frog leg. "I suppose you are right. Duo, did you get any information from Heero? About his father, if he's always lived on this island or if he's been wealthy at one point in his life?"
"Um... well, Trowa. Sort of. We are very busy at the moment with the distillery and … um... the distillery. Yes."
It was suddenly very silent at our table.
"Duo, was that a lie!?" Trowa and Wufei peered at me incredulously. The former was speechless, the latter had an eerily hopeful gleam in his black eyes.
"Um... I... well... you think so?"
"It sounded like a lie," Wufei said, almost grinning. "You are not really busy making rum, are you?"
"Ha! Of course not, Wu. I'm courting—... um, no I'm completely occupied with making rum, trust me."
"Duo, we are here to search for a treasure not to woo the belle of the village," Trowa said, in a voice that was indeed very compassionate, but brooked no argument.
"I know that," I told him.
Wufei snorted, but then, suddenly, his face brightened.
"There's one place Quatre hasn't looked into yet," he gushed. "It's not here, in the inn... It's the distillery!"
"Why yes, that's where Sawdown must have buried the gold. In fact, I might actually have seen it lying around somewhere... considering that I've spend almost three months draining sugar canes in there." I may not look it, but I'm quite capable of sarcasm.
"Why should he keep the map in his own house? It's just clever to hide it someplace safe and remote." Wufei gazed imploringly at Trowa. „Yes?"
Trowa looked torn, licking his spoon. It was a pointless venture and he knew it, but Wufei could be quite annoying. "Alright, Wufei, you can search the distillery. But take Duo with you. And in the meantime, I think I'll have another drop of that delicious lobster soup..."
Under the cloak of night, Wufei and I sneaked from the room we shared on one of the upper storeys of the Inn and hurried to the harbour. The little hut that served me and Heero as a distillery was spookily backdropped by a starless night sky. We crept along the outer wall until we got to one of the smashed windows overlooking the docks and climbed inside. Heero's distillation apparatus was still sitting at exactly the same spot where we had left it in the evening. Seeing it, I had to smile a little. Working with Heero was actually a lot of fun. I had never met anyone quite like him. He handled the bubbling, spitting and seething conglomeration of pipes and tubes and flasks and pots with astounding ease and expertise. And when it came to testing a new batch of shoddily distilled rum to check if it was safe enough to sell, Heero always snatched the first glass right from under my nose and gulped it down himself. We never even flipped a coin. Maybe he harboured a tendency to self-destruct or it was just his way of being nice, I never knew. He was either the bravest or most foolish man I'd ever known.
Wufei had already started exploring the tiny hut. But it was his idea, not mine, I reminded myself. If he was stupid enough to think he'd find a treasure in this hovel, he could look for it himself. Shuffling over to the cleanest part of the room, where Heero generally stored the spare parts he needed for the apparatus, I leaned against the only uncluttered piece of wall I could find and listlessly poked at a pile of scrap metal.
I had been standing there for just a minute or two when two things happened: a thin and eerily mournful sound arose, not at all dissimilar to someone being slowly strangled to death, and then the world was falling off its axis— a hand shot out and Wufei was grabbing my arm, pulling me away from a wide gap in the wall. I hurried to gain my footing and turned around. We peered at the gap. It was... a secret door!
Slowly and very quietly we drew nearer. Wufei gave the door a very gentle push. With the same keening moan the wooden boards swung backwards and admitted...
... a small sleeping figure, slumped over a pile of empty crates, surrounded by heaps of torn fishnets and ripped sailcloth. The light of a candle illuminated a dark tousled head nestled into the crook of a bony elbow, and five pale fingers clasping a tattered goose-quill that was slowly dripping a blot of black ink onto a rumpled sheet of yellowed paper. Next to the sleeping person sat a high stack of books, precariously perched on the topmost crate.
"But... that's Heero," I gasped, pulling at Wufei's sleeve.
"Shhhhtt!"
I chanced a quick look at Heero's face, but he was still sleeping.
Wufei made a step into the room and reached for one of the books that were littering the crate on which Heero's head rested. Turning back towards me, he mouthed something.
It sounded like "di-aree"... Oh!
Then Wufei began to tuck as many books as possible into his cloak while he was motioning for me to keep an eye on Heero. But... Heero looked so very young and vulnerable at that moment, with his tightly coiled fingers and his dripping and blotting quill... My heart was clenching painfully.
"... wufei," I wispered. "... that's not... that's not right..."
Wufei froze... and dropped a book.
A heartbeat later, Heero stirred.
Panic-stricken Wufei abandoned his plan and dumped most of the books on the floor. Two or three fell from his arms when he swung around and tried to make his escape though the secret door but he was still clinging to a very thick volume by the time he reached me. I glanced back into the room seeing Heero's eyelids flutter and slowly open, before Wufei pulled the door shut and hurried towards the broken window.
"Come on! Duo!" He turned back to me, gesticulating wildly. The last I saw of him was a clumsy shadow flinging itself through the window... and a smaller something hitting the window frame and fluttering gracelessly to the floor.
"... shit! Duo... get the book," cried a disgruntled voice from outside the hut. Automatically, I grabbed the thing, stuffed it into my own cloak pocket and dashed after Wufei.
Well, I fell on something, but I couldn't see what it was. It was pitch-black night.
"Where is the book," asked Wufei, from right beneath me.
"S-sorry, Wu." Embarrassed, I scrambled away from him.
"Doesn't matter... just give me the book."
"... um... the book…"
„Don't tell me you didn't get it!"
"Well... it was pretty dark in there."
"Oh no! No! Duo! It was his diary, for God's sake!"
"I'm sorry, Wu... really."
"... "
I do have to say, my intentions were honourable... at first. I did plan to return Heero's diary as soon as I'd figured out a way to do it without getting noticed. It was just that... I got curious after a while. Like 90 percent of the population in the supposedly 'civilized' Western world I wasn't even able to read or write my own name. In fact, I was thunderstruck to learn that Heero knew about such things. On Froog's Island! With such a father! "Thunderstruck" probably wasn't even enough to describe it.
To make a long story short: after two days of obsessing over it, I opened the book. I could tell, it was a fine specimen. I had already seen quite a lot of books in my short life. The larger European ships had bookshelves full of them. Of course, books weren't of primary interest for us pirates, but sometimes we took everything we could get. This book was thick and leather-bound, it smelled nice and the pages turned with a nice soft sound, like rustling leaves. Heero's handwriting was small, but clear and probably flawless. I turned to a random page near the end of the book and just looked at it for a while. Well, it was still indecipherable...
... Diary,
today I had to fend off two unwanted advances. Not counting Zechs. So far he's tried: flowers (orchids, several unknown hibiscus types, sea weed), pearls (difficult to place), cakes & chocolate (... still mulling over whether to eat them or not...), a necklace, a pair of goblets (gold, bronze-plated), money. It's definitely getting worse. What should I do? Last time I had to take drastic measures—good thing for him to have a mask. All the same, I won't give him what he wants. It wouldn't be right. (Have to remember mother.)
I think, Duo is the strangest pirate I've ever met. Today, he told me a long story about his ship. It was called DeathScythe (all the ships Duo mentions have rather strange names so I probably shouldn't be surprised about that one). It was an Eastern ship, not as big as European ships, small and with a low hull, but Duo says he likes small things, even more so if they are unusual. He told me he "lost" his ship. Wonder what that means. How can anyone "lose" a ship? I told you, Duo is strange. He is still resisting in regard to the "Who's testing the moonshine?" question. It's bothering me.
After a minute or two I turned that page. Just looking at it was... kind of fun…
... Diary,
must remember to get more sealing rings. Broke a glass flask yesterday... Duo's fault. He told me about his friend Wufei and how they all met. It's utterly impossible, but very funny. (I didn't laugh then. Of course. But I laughed in my room. 7 minutes. That's a record.) ... Don't know what else to tell you. Zechs brought a jewel-box... a drunk pirate tried to grab me in the Inn. Looking forward to tomorrow, though.
I turned the page.
... Diary,
today was... strange. I think I may be falling ill. Something is definitely wrong with me. Duo told me a rather far-fetched story about the European women who live at the courts of England, France and Spain. He says, they wear embroidered dresses made of silk and brocade. Their hair is not only combed and washed with soap, but curled into loops and entwined with colourful ribbons. They smell nice and have clean faces. I don't like them. And I get very angry when I think about them being with Duo. And maybe a little... depressed. Maybe I should wash my face more often... and my hair... (but I can't possibly wear a ribbon, can I?) Also, I don't have anything nice to wear. I don't smell nice. My hands are callous. But I've never cared about such things. See what I mean? There's definitely something wrong with me.
The next page was the last written page.
... Diary,
got new sealing rings. Tomorrow, we'll finish a new batch of rum. That means fighting over the first glass again... (how odd is that!) Today, Duo accidentally seared his front bangs. He started to scream and fling his arms about in funny gestures, then he was dashing through the door and a moment later I heard a splash of water. Didn't pull him out, though. Serves him right.
But I like Duo's hair. He always wears it in a braid. Makes me want to pull on it. I wonder if I should tell him about it.
He might be my only chance.
Here I arrived at the very last entry. It consisted of only two sentences.
... Diary,
I gathered further information. They have a seaworthy ship!
Note: I was very motivated for the last week (...and I didn´t even have to watch "Pirates of the Caribbean":)...). Writing in English is so strenuous;) But the next chapter can be expected soon. We are approaching the first climax... Heero's secret.