Benjamintwisted the key and unlocked the cell door before he tossed my bowlof food on the floor, its contents spilling everywhere. I glared upat him.
“Wasthere any need of that?” I asked him.
“I canmake sure there’s no need to feed you at all,” hethreatened.
I stood with myarms crossed, silent. I didn’t like the way he hung around, notleaving my cell to sit outside of it as he usually did. His deepbrown eyes glared at me from under his thick brow, regarding me ina way that made my skin crawl. Slowly, he took a couple of stepstoward me and my heart beat wildly.
“W-whatdo you want?” I asked him.
Another coupleof steps closer. I saw his fingers fiddling at his sides, curlingand tightening into fists before releasing again and again. “Youknow what I want.”
I backedup until my skin touched the cold bars of the adjacent cell and Istruggled to control my nervous breathing. Please, I begged the universe,don’t let him touch me. I dared notcry. I refused to let this man turn me into a weak thing that hecould so easily bend. He was too close now, I could feel thepirate’s hot breath on my face and his one hand lifted, carefullysweeping the straggly hair from my shoulder.
His head tippeddown and he whispered in my ear. “But not yet. You’re notready.”
Benjamin thenspun on his heel and sauntered out of my cell, leaving me gaspingfor a full breath and silently thanking the heavens that he didn’ttouch me. But how long could I avoid it? I longed for Henry. Hisprotective embrace. His raspy tone to sooth my mind. But I had toforce my mind to stow away the thoughts, they turned dark too fastand I constantly worried whether Henry had made it through thestorm. That they all did.
The brig becamedampened with the glow of the setting sun before I heard the noiseof approaching footsteps again. I expected Benjamin, but these werequieter. Lighter. More careful. As if they were sneaking up on me.I stood and retreated to my corner, fingers around the knife as Iwaited for them to come into view. The footsteps came to a halt,but no one was in sight.
“Who’sthere?” I called out.
A smallfoot poked out from the shadows of the hallway. “Shhh,” they said.“Be quiet. I'm not s'posedto be here.”
I lowered myvoice. “Then come out so I can see you.”
The man, adecrepit thing, shuffled out of the darkness and made his way overto the wooden stool. I watched as his feet scuffed along andfrowned at the strange curvature of his hunched back. The relief onhis face when he sat down was palpable.
“I didn’tmean to startle you a’tall,” he spoke, a worn old accent from Englandsomewhere. “The men be busy, I figure it a good time to pay you avisit.”
He seemedharmless enough. But I kept my distance. Who knew what these menhad planned for me. “Who are you?”
“Pleeman,” the old man answered. “Theship’s cook.”
I nodded,continuing to size him up. I’d been a prisoner aboard a ship once.And their cook was a murderer who tried to kill Henry. “What do youwant?”
“Do youenjoy the fish?”
I couldn’t tellif he misheard me or simply ignored my question. “Yes, thank you,it’s delicious.”
“Iapologize in advance for the amount of fried fish you’ll be eating.It’s all we have around, I’m afraid. Besides a bit of flour.” Heappeared sad and slightly bored with the thought of frying anotherfish.
I took that asan opportunity. “You know,” I began, “I’m a cook, too.”
He looked at mecuriously. “I hear you’re a captain.”
“I’mboth,” I told him. “I was a cook, a very good one, for many yearsbefore I became captain of my ship. I could help you make somethingbesides plain fish. I can forage. I know the island has plenty ofberries and edible roots. If you let me out, I can make you guys adish to die for.”
Pleeman smiled.“I’m afraid I don’t have the ability to let you go, Miss. I’d berisking my own head if I did.”
“Please,”I begged, giving him my most sorrowful look. “My crew are probablylooking for me. I have to make a fire and signal them.”
“Yourcrew surely didn’t survive the storm, Miss. There’s noway.”
“But, Idid,” I replied. With the help of some sea creature. But I wouldn’ttell him that. “Look, they’re more than just my crew. They’re myfamily. I have to believe that they made it. That they’re lookingfor me.”
The old manmulled over my words, his wrinkled face scrunching up in thought.“Did you enjoy the fish I brought you on the island?”
Again, he wasavoiding my pleas. I sighed. “That was you?”
Hesmiled, the kind asweet grandpa would give. The crooked knuckles of hisweathered fingers wrapped around his thighs as he moved to stand.“Yes, and the blanket.” Pleeman paused and his mouth turned down.“Although, I wasn’t s’posed to do that.”
I blinked hard,deep in thought as I examined the old timer.
“But Isaw how you spoke to your belly when you rubbed it,” hecontinued.
My cheeksflushed. My pregnancy was still easy to hide, especially with mythick red jacket. The last thing I wanted was my captors knowing myweakness. I’d do anything they asked if my baby’s life was beingthreatened. And that very admittance made me sick.
“Oh,don’t worry,” Pleeman piped up and came closer to the bars. “Ididn’t tell a soul. See, I’m one of the few left on the ship with aconscience. And a healthy respect for women. Had four daughtersback home.”
I chewed at mylip. “How do I know this isn’t a trick?”
The manchuckled. “My dear, a trick for what?” His wrinkled fingers twistedaround the bars and his aging eyes looked at me with sincerity. “Iswear I’d never hurt a hair on your pretty little head. I’m here towarn you.”
My eyeswidened. “Warn me of what?” I moved closer to the bars then.Showing him a sign of trust. “Who is your captain?”
“The oneI’m here to heed warningof.” Pleeman pulled something from his pocket. A bun.“Captain Cook is not a good man.”
He offered methe baked good and I accepted. “What
