Pirate Story – Last Voyage of the Black Betty – Chapter 5
by Craig Nybo ~ May 7, 2009
To read this story in its entirety, so far, and to read the chapters in order, visit this link: pirate story.
To purchase the official soundtrack to this story, visit this link: pirate music.
Chapter 5
Jax lay in the hanging cot of his officer’s cabin. A book sat open on his lap. For more than a month he had struggled to make out the cryptic shapes of letters and form them into words, but he just couldn’t seem to get the knack. To smart men like Stark and Ian, reading seemed to come easy. Jax was not an educated man, but he was no fool. He knew the benefits of reading. He had beheld the reason behind Stark’s eyes. He had witnessed Stark, on more than one occasion, change the mind of a man with nothing more than wit and words. Jax longed for the same skill. He had purchased a grammar book back in London and, without telling a sole, begun to teach himself letter by letter, sounding out the shapes with his tongue, forming his first fledgling words, a, at, the… In time, he would master it.
A healthy knock at the cabin door roused him from his book. He hurriedly tipped himself out of the hanging cot and tucked the text under the lid of a sea-chest in the corner of his cabin. He crossed the room and opened the door. Stark stood in the hallway, gaunt and hook-nosed, hands folded behind his back, his prematurely silver hair tied behind his neck in an orderly pony tail.
“Captain,” Jax said, surprised to see the man so late in the evening. “What can I do for you?”
“May I come in?”
Jax swung the door wide, admitting the captain into his cabin. Stark walked to the middle of the room and glanced around, a kind of spontaneous inspection. He noted Jax’s orderliness. The Lieutenant’s quarters were cleaner than most cabins. Jax’s belongings were securely stowed or hung in shipshape on a series of hooks along the wall. Clothes and linens lay folded and on a makeshift shelf Jax had fashioned out of scraps from the ship carpenter’s store. “You keep an orderly cabin.” Stark said.
“I like order, Captain.”
“The best men do. I have something I want to discuss with you.”
“What is it, sir?”
“When the knots fell, I noticed that you cast your lot in my favor.”
“I respectfully disagree with Mr. Ian’s methods, sir.”
“And why is that?” Stark raised one eyebrow.
“He is cruel and selfish. I don’t believe he has anyone in the forefront of his mind except himself.”
“He’s a pirate, Mr. Jax; we are all pirates. No pirate has anyone but himself in the forefront of his mind.”
“I believe a good captain should be learned.” Jax said.
“Ian is learned.”
“I also believe that a good captain should be motivated by greed.”
“Ian is motivated by greed.”
“I believe that only by satisfying the greed of his crew can a captain be worthy of his station.”
Stark put one finger deductively in the air and walked across Jax’s cabin. “And therein lies my quandary. I agree with you, Mr. Jax. What are your thoughts about Halmstad?”
“I side with you, Mr. Stark. I think I made that plain at parley.”
“That you did; but I wonder why?”
“Under your captainship, we have never gone hungry. We have always dropped anchor with silver in our pockets to spend on women and wine. Why would I vote otherwise? Besides, to change captains at sea is bad luck.”
“Parley was not for the purpose of changing captains. The question posed by Ian dealt with our destination; Halmstad or Barbados.”
“Like I said. You have always kept silver in my pockets. Ian hasn’t.”
“Now that is music to my ears, Mr. Jax. I have information that is monumental in what it connotes.” Jax struggled to understand the word–connotes; he must continue his reading. “I feel great fortune awaits in the offing for men who follow me.”
“What do you propose?” Jax asked, his eyebrows arching.
“Nothing drastic, certainly not. I wouldn’t dare act against the consensus of crew. For now we sail for Halmstad. Who knows, some paltry prize might await us there–although I have my doubts. I only ask a simple favor.”
“And what would that be?” Jax asked.
“Follow me. If only in faith, follow me. I need men who see beyond what Ian claims is grounded. I need men who have a certain openness to ideas that transcend this world of ours.”
“You have my word.”
Stark smiled, his face becoming in the waning flicker of lamp light. “Well, that is all I need.” Stark turned and moved across the cabin to the exit. Just before he opened the door, he wheeled around on the heel of his boot to face Jax. “One other thing if you please.”
Jax remained silent.
“I think the men could use a break. Besides, The Black Betty, she needs careening. I can feel her slugging down more and more with every league. Whatever swag we gather from Halmstad, I think it best we port for a while and take some time to spend it with great effect.”
“I would never object to that, Captain.”
“I feel it best to stay a while at port to work out the cramps in our legs. We must port in a place that has a certain tolerance for our kind.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more.”
Stark continued: “I feel the best place for us, though it be a bit off the beaten path, is Barbados.”
“As I have said, I am ready to follow you.”
“It isn’t you that concerns me; I, after all, have your word. It is the rest of them. Would you mind, Mr. Jax, putting a word in the heads of the men. Mention Barbados. It isn’t necessary for you associate my name to the notion. Just remind them gently of what a pleasant place it is. Mention the women, the rum, the songs.”
“I shall, Captain.”
“And one other thing. I don’t feel it necessary to let Ian in on our little tet, or to mention Barbados to him in the context of which we speak.”
“I understand, Captain.”
“There’s a good lad. Good fortune always awaits men of such unwavering loyalty.” Stark put a hand on Jax’s shoulder. The skin of Stark’s hand felt hard and cracked, worn with years at sea. Stark had the hands of a seasoned sea dog, long toughened by the grind of ropes and the salt of brine. Stark looked deep into Jax’s eyes. For the briefest moment Jax saw something foreign in the Captain’s countenance, not quite desperation, not quite madness, perhaps a mix of both.
Stark wheeled around and left Jax’s cabin without another word. Jax stood for a moment, considering what Stark had asked. He didn’t doubt Captain Stark’s lust for gold. He didn’t doubt that if Stark led The Black Betty to fortune Jax would get his fair share. But there was that trace of, what was it? Madness? In Stark’s eyes. It took a touch of madness for any man to lead the life of a pirate; but there was more to it than just madness in Stark’s vacuous stare. It seemed as if Stark had been possessed by an unseen demon.
Jax shrugged it off. Stark had always been mad; Jax had stood witness to it many times. In battle, Stark often quoted scripture as he hacked men to chum. He had once cut a man’s heart out for cheating at bones. Stories of Stark’s cruelty and occasional dementia abounded. To Jax following Stark brought more than fortune, it brought a taste of what devil offered; and once a man sampled the devil’s wares, there was no quelling the hunger.
Jax opened the lid of his sea-chest and picked up his leather bound grammar book. He reclined in the hanging cot and opened the book to the consonant letter K. As he read a sentence, The kite flies. He felt satisfied with himself; after weeks of study, he was finally understanding the mystery of words.
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