Chapter 4
BOOM … BOOM …
John woke with a start, and listened, his mind still groggy from sleep. It was dark, but a thin sliver of moonlight illuminated the cabin. He turned his head and looked out the window. A bright, nearly full moon cast silver beams over the black waves. Was that cannon fire? he wondered.
Out in the common room he could hear a commotion. Men were yelling and stomping about in a hurry. John sat up and scanned the dark cabin. The captain's bed was empty. His mother was still sleeping. She could sleep through anything, John thought as he watched her.
BOOM …
John's heart hammered against his ribs. It sounded as if the explosions were getting louder, and therefore closer, which was extremely unsettling. It must be pirates, John thought. He leapt from his hammock and ran to the door without bothering to put on his shoes or stockings.
In the common room, John passed men who were fumbling with their belts and strapping on their pistols and cutlasses. He flew up the ladder and launched himself up onto the deck, his heart pounding in his chest. Captain Savage and a group of his crew were standing at the bow, scanning the inky ocean in all directions.
"What's going on?" John yelled to no one in particular.
The cook emerged from the darkness behind him.
"Hush, lad. We're keepin' quiet an' sailing without the lanterns. Thar's been cannon fire off the starboard bow," the cook whispered.
"Is it pirates?" John asked. He scanned the ocean for any sign of a ship off starboard and didn't see anything. The moon had slipped behind thick clouds, which cast a sinister shadow over the foreboding waves. Anything could be hiding out there.
"Could be," the cook agreed. "Pirates might be attackin' a ship up ahead, or maybe a ship has fired on 'em. As far as I can tell, the cannons were fired by only one ship an' all's been quiet since. 'Tis quite odd."
"So they're not coming after us then?" John yawned.
"Hope not. Ye should go back to sleep," the cook urged.
"I don't think I can," John said, his eyes were wide and unfocused.
"Well try an' get some rest. Hopefully, we'll pass by 'em unnoticed." The cook gently guided John back to the hatchway. "Go on. Thar's no sense in staying up. Everytin' will be fine."
John yawned again and nodded. He was tired, but wouldn't admit it. He went back to the cabin and climbed into his hammock. Sleep didn't come easy, at first. With his eyes wide open, he watched the dark port window for signs of movement outside. The moon came out from behind the clouds and shone its silver beams across the waves, chasing away the shadows.
As John watched and listened, hearing only the sound of his mother's deep breathing and the slap of the waves against the hull, he began to feel more relaxed. After a while, he allowed his eyes to close so he could focus on the now familiar motion of the ship. Like a mother rocking a newborn, the Bonetta gently lulled John back to sleep.
It was late morning when John woke again. His mother was gone from her hammock and the captain's simple white linen cot looked like it hadn't been slept in all night. John leapt to the floor and ran into the common room, wondering why he hadn't been woken for breakfast.
The common room was unusually quiet. All of the hammocks were empty and the cook was missing from the galley. A feeling of unease washed over John. Something's wrong, he realized. A nervous lump, impossible to swallow, formed deep in his throat.
Not knowing what to expect, John climbed the ladder to the deck and poked his head up through the hatchway. A sharp gasp escaped his lips when he saw the entire crew bound and tied at the bow of the ship. He could barely believe his eyes. Pirates had taken the ship silently during the night and he had missed everything.
Just then, rough hands grabbed John by the armpits and plucked him from the hatchway. John kicked and screamed.
"Let me go!" he cried.
"Look at what we got here. Hendrick, ye missed one below," a scrawny pirate with rotting, broken teeth said as he dangled John from one arm. He placed John's feet on the deck, turning him to face a motley group of men standing at the stern and pinned his arms behind his back. John struggled to free himself, but the man's boney fingers had an iron grip.
"I didn't miss 'im. I saw 'im an' left him. Capt'n's orders were, an' I quote, 'thar's no point in wakin' the pup'," Hendrick said as he mimicked his captain, the whites of his eyes shone in the sunlight, giving him a crazed, malevolent look.
Wide-eyed, John surveyed the small group of pirates. If he didn't know better, he would've thought these men were part of the Bonetta's crew. They were all dressed in the same manner: cut off breeches, shirts unbuttoned to the navel, sleeves rolled-up to the elbow or, in some cases, cut short. Some of the men wore bandannas and black tricorn hats. All of the men were armed with pistols and cutlasses.
"Where's Captain Savage?" John demanded.
"He's on the Sultana havin' a parley with Capt'n Black Sam Bellamy," Hendrick said. Clearly, he was the leader of the group. "Yer mum is over there too. Seems ole Black Sam doesn't trust his first mate around the wench," Hendrick sneered. He spat a gob of spit and tobacco onto the deck to show his distaste for the captain's decision.
John felt his stomach coil and twist like a nervous serpent. Instinctively, he knew that this man Hendrick was not the type to be trifled with. His black dreadlocks pointed in all directions, making him look like a wild man and self-inflicted scars on his face implied a certain kind of madness.
All arguments dissolved on John's tongue as he felt his soul wither under the man's glare.
"Tie 'im up with the others. There's some rope left on the port bow," Hendrick commanded.
The tall, skinny pirate with the rotting teeth led John over to the tied-up crew of the Bonnetta. The cook sat at the edge of the group, his head down, wide shoulders hunched in defeat with his hands tied behind his back.
"Sit here and be quiet pup." The pirate cuffed John on the back of his head and forced him down with a rough push.
John tumbled to the deck, cowering to avoid more abuse and sat down beside the cook. He felt the pirate wrap a length of prickly rope around his wrists and winced in pain as the rope cinched tighter, pinching his skin. When the man was confident John wouldn't escape his bonds, he stood and walked away.
Keeping his eyes on the deck, John concentrated on the feel of the rope, testing the tightness of the knot by twisting his shoulders. There wasn't much wiggle room between his wrists and John soon realized escape was unlikely. Then he remembered the pirate hadn't checked his pockets for the flip-knife. John began to wiggle, moving his hands closer to the pocket containing the weapon.
"Don't do it lad," the cook whispered. "Just sit still and be quiet."
John stopped squirming and looked to see if the pirates had noticed his attempts to gain freedom. If they had, they didn't seem to care.
"What happened?" John whispered. "How'd they take the ship so quickly?"
"They used the cannon fire as a distraction. An' while we were all lookin' towards the ship firing its cannons, they crept up on us from the opposite direction in a second ship. Then, the scurvy dogs boarded us secretly. An' before we knew what was goin' on, that man Hendrick took the capt'n by surprise an' held a knife to his throat. He held him hostage till we all gave up. These devils are a crafty bunch," the cook whispered.
"Oh!" John said. A feeling of disappointment and disbelief tugged at his perceptions, threatening to topple over his ideals like an unbalanced block tower. The attack had been so anticlimactic, it almost didn't feel real.
"Don't worry, yer mum is safe. The pirate capt'n, Black Sam I think his name was, seems genuinely concerned for her safety. That must be why he took her on board his ship with Capt'n Savage—" the cook paused, suddenly intensely interested in something past John's shoulder.
John followed the cook's gaze and saw a group on the deck of the pirate ship, the Sultana. Captain Savage and John's mother were among them. The defeated captain carried a bleak, wear
y expression of one who has lost all hope. His mother's face was ashen with seasickness and probably terror, her eyes were wide and her hair was a tangled mess.
The group walked to the gangplanks that linked the Bonetta to the Sultana. The two ships had been tied close together to make passage between them easier as long as the ocean's waves co-operated. As the group slowly boarded the Bonetta, John realized with surprise that neither Captain Savage, nor his mother had been tied up.
"Here they come now," the cook whispered.
John's attention focused on the pirate captain, Black Sam. A handsome, freshly-shaved face hid in the shadow of a well-worn black tricorn hat. Underneath, where a white powdered wig ought to be, his thick, long, black hair was tied in a low ponytail and hung halfway down his back. The pirate was dressed much like Captain Savage, with a long-tailed red jacket over a black waistcoat and a frilly, white button-up shirt, which was tucked neatly into cream-colored knee breeches, white stockings and black polished boots with brass buckles.
John looked to the masts of both of the pirate ships to see if they flew the Jolly Roger. Each ship had the customary black flag with the skull and crossbones on it. John couldn't see the name of the other ship, it was tied to the other side of the Bonetta.
Captain Black Sam escorted Captain Savage and John's mother down the hatchway of the Bonetta. As the group disappeared under the deck, John began to fidget again. He didn't want to be tied up anymore. It was boring. He wanted to be below deck. He wanted to know what was going on.
"What's going to happen now?" John wondered out loud.
"They're gonna relieve us of our cargo. Hopefully, that'll be all they do," the cook said.
"Do you know much about this pirate captain?" John asked.
"Never 'eard of him," the cook sighed. "He's not famous like Blackbeard. I've 'eard Blackbeard often maroons a crew an' burns their ship. Let's hope this Black Sam fellow isn't that sort o' pirate. Thus far, thar's been no real violence and that's a good sign, I'll wager."
"What's he going to do with the captain and my mum?"
"Maybe he'll hold them prisoner in the capt'n's quarters. More likely that'll be where ye'll find yerself before this day is through," the cook said.
The pirate who called himself Hendrick came towards the cook and John. "Ye're both needed down below. The Capt'n wants a word." Hendrick untied them and escorted them back to the hatchway, where he stood and watched them descend.
As soon as John's feet reached the floorboards, his mother ran to him, crying. "Oh John, there you are. I was so worried."
"I'm okay, Mum," John murmured as he hugged his mother, surprised by the sudden outburst of affection, their earlier dispute forgotten.
"An' ye're the cook, I assume," Captain Black Sam said.
"I am," the cook answered.
"Then go about yer business as if we weren't here," Captain Black Sam ordered. "Feed the crew an' don't worry about mine. They've already eaten." The pirate captain tipped his tricorn hat towards John and his mother, then retreated up the ladder.
"Well he's a cordial one, isn't he," the cook muttered as he entered the kitchen galley to get started on lunch.
As the cook started preparing the meal, the common room began filling with pirates. Captain Savage silently retreated to his quarters, unguarded. John and his mother stood by the door, watching as the pirates went into the hold and began tearing down the ropes and nets holding the cargo in place.
"What do we got here?" Hendrick said as he opened up the lid of one of the barrels with his knife. He bent over the opening and sniffed loudly. "Aye, that's quality tobacco," he sighed and began filling his smoke pouch with the dried, fragrant leaves. The other pirates crowded around him and filled their pouches as well.
Hendrick stepped out of the hold and yelled up to the men on deck, "Ready."
The men above him pulled up the ladder and threw down some ropes so the men below could transport the barrel of tobacco through the hatchway. One by one, the largest barrels were set on the floor sideways and slowly rolled through the hold into the common room, where they were securely tied and hoisted up.
After about an hour, the cook rang the lunch bell, and the pirates stopped working. They brought the ladder back to its place and disappeared back up through the hatchway. In a few moments, the crew of the Bonetta began descending the ladder and lining up at the kitchen door, where the cook was about to serve a lunch of salted beef in broth with sea biscuits.
John and his mother went into the captain's quarters to retrieve their dishes and utensils. The captain sat at his small table, staring vacantly out the port window.
"Would you like us to bring you something?" Alice asked.
"Hmmm? Aye," he said without looking at her.
John grabbed the captain's bowl and spoon and left with his mother, intending to line up with the crew. When they returned to the common room, it was so crowded and chaotic that they couldn't tell where the end of the line started, so they just crowded in and hoped they'd be let in. The men were accommodating enough, and soon John and his mother were allowed close enough to be served their portions.
They returned to the captain and sat down with him to eat. The captain took his food, thanking Alice. Then he violently crumbled his biscuits into his broth and began stirring the contents angrily with his spoon. John and his mother exchanged anxious expressions.
"What's to become of us," Alice cried, unable to hold in her worries a moment longer.
The captain sighed. "Captain Black Sam has given me his word that no harm will come to any of us as long as we cooperate fully."
John dipped a biscuit into his broth and held it there to soak up the liquid. He lifted his biscuit from the broth and examined it for a moment before biting off and swallowing the mushy part. The smoke-flavored beef broth was heavily salted, but when it was combined with a biscuit, it was edible.
"Are we to sit in this cabin the entire time they're here?" John asked.
"I'm not going out there with those ruffians and neither are you," Alice proclaimed. "You stay away from those men. I forbid you to even look at them."
"But what if I have to use the bathroom?" John whined.
"You can go use it and come right back," she said.
"It's best if you stay out of the way for now while they're haulin' up the cargo," Captain Savage said in a defeated tone.
"But we have to clean our dishes," John cried.
The captain gave John a stern look. "Aye, that we do. Take them out to the common room and join the crew as they wash theirs. When yer done, do as yer mother says an' come right back."
After they finished their lunch, John took the dishes out to the common room. It was chaos again. The small space was packed with unhappy sailors. John listened to the men mumble under their breath as he waited his turn at the wash bucket. Mr. Wicker was the most vocal.
"Are we just going to stand around and let them steal my sugar and tobacco? This is an outrage. You fellows didn't even put up a fight. What am I paying you for?" Mr. Wicker sputtered, his face hot with rage.
"We didn't sign onto this ship to die," one of the crewmen said harshly. John recognized the man. It was the first mate of the Bonetta, a young, ambitious man who had always been polite and courteous in John's presence. He couldn't remember the man's name.
"He had a knife to the capt'n's throat. Are ye sayin' yer precious cargo is more important than his life?" the first mate argued, his brown eyes flashed with rage.
"He's the captain. He goes down with the ship, an' all that. Does he not?" Mr. Wicker countered.
"They have us out-gunned and out-numbered. Two ships against one. Ye should be counting yer lucky starfish that we're alive. Had we fought back, we'd all likely be shark food by now," the first mate snarled.
John washed his dishes and placed them in his net bag, but he didn't want to go back to the captain's quarters, as was expected of him. Instead, he found a hook on the wall to hang his bag on and stood out of the wa
y so he could watch the pirates haul the cargo through the hatchway. He stayed by the wall for a while, unnoticed, before his mother poked her head out of the captain's door.
"Come back this instant," she screeched.
John's face reddened when everyone in the room turned to look at him. He pushed his way through the crew and walked towards her. The men were laughing, and he knew it was at his expense. In that moment he hated her for humiliating him. Every fiber of his being urged him to yell back at her and tell her no. But the last thing he wanted was to be stuck in the captain's quarters for the rest of the day, so he pressed his lips together and said nothing.
If the pirates hadn't removed the ladder to haul the cargo up to the deck, he would've ignored her and run off up to the crow's nest. But for now he was stuck below deck, so he did what she wanted.
She held the door open until John was safely inside, then she closed it behind him. If she could lock it, she probably would, John thought as he sat at the table to sulk. He decided he would wait until the pirates were finished hauling up the cargo and when they replaced the ladder, he would make another excuse to leave. Once he was back on deck, his mother wouldn't be able to control him, and then he could do what he wanted no matter what she said.