“What’sthe matter?” Benjamin asked, snapping me out of my miserable hazeof worry.
Hislarge, warm hand cupped my face as his thumb wiped at the tears. Ishould have pulled away. I should have told him to keep his handsto himself. But, inthat moment, I was weak. I wanted to be comforted. And, eventhough it meant more to him than me, I let him. I leaned into hishand and closed my eyes, squeezing out the tears that begged to bereleased.
“It’sjust…” I could barely control the tremble in my voice. “It’s a lot.You know? I’m here. I have no idea what happened to my crew, to myfriends. My…” I glanced down at my belly and covered it with bothhands.
“Was thefather on the ship?”
I nodded asmore tears flowed. “His name is Henry.”
I somehow livedthrough losing Henry once. I didn’t have it in me to survive itagain. I had to believe that he was alive. That he was out theresomewhere, looking for me. He’d search to the ends of the Earth forme. My beloved pirate king would find a way. A sudden rush of shamecoursed over my body and I stood abruptly, breaking the intimatehold that Benjamin held on my face.
“I, um, Ishould get to the kitchen.” I wiped at my wet cheeks. “I’ve got alot to do.”
He roseto his feet, awkwardly. “Yes, of course. I’ll show you the way.”
“No,that’s alright,” I quickly replied. “I’m sure I can findit.”
Benjamin failedto hide the guilt on his face. “I’m afraid I can’t let you dothat.”
I noddedslowly, lips pursed. “Oh, I see. Very well, then.” I moved aside tolet him lead. And it was in that moment that I knew for sure thatit didn’t matter how friendly I got with the crew. Above all, I wasa prisoner aboard the ship.
Forever.
ChapterNine
I worked idly to prepare supper, my mind far offin a distant place. A place where Henry and I existed together. AsI washed and scrubbed the thick white roots I gathered, I dreamedof being in his arms again. His sweet, tortured face softening atthe sight of me. Warm pink lips under the blonde scruff of hisjagged jawline. Black eyes staring lovingly into mine. Every fiberof my being ached to be with him and it was all I could to holdback the rush of emotion that tried to force tears.
“Wouldyou like me to do that?” Pleeman spoke as he suddenly appeared bymy side. “Or do you intend to rub them down to nothing?”
Snapping out ofmy daydream, I turned to the old man and smiled. “Sorry, I wasjust…”
“Thinkingabout being anywhere but here?” His old, wrinkled hands took theroots from mine. “I’ll finish cleaning these. You get started onthe rest.”
“Are yousure?” I asked him.
“Yes, ofcourse! I’m eager to watch and learn. Be nice to cook somethingother than plain, ol’ fried fish.”
I grabbeda sack of open flour from the floor and lifted it to the wornwooden tabletop. I was surprised by what they had; flour, sugar,and even a small collection of vegetables. They were half rotten,but I managed to dig out a few I could use. The old chef had toldme earlier that they got their supplies from shipwrecks and thingsthat washed ashore. “Pleeman, how do you not know how to make anything?”
Helaughed. A strained oldman’s chuckle. “I wasn’t always a cook. I was once a mere deckhand.Many years ago.”
“So, howdid you become the cook, then?”
Hebrought the washed ingredients over to the table top I worked at.His aging eyes peeredup at me. “One must do whatever it takes to survive on a ship suchas this one.”
It was my turnto laugh then. “I once did the exact same thing. I was takenprisoner aboard a ship. The cook turned out to be a murderer outfor the captain’s blood, so I took the opportunity to gain theirtrust with my skills.” Then a thought occurred to me. “Pleeman,what possessed you to become part of a pirate crew at yourage?”
“Oh,Dearie, I wasn’t this old when I first washed ashore,” he toldme.
My eyes bulged.“Wait, you mean–”
“Oh, yes.I do not belong to The Black Soul,” he affirmed. “I was a youngman, first time at sea. I’d swindled my way onto the crew of a newship. A merchant vessel sailing for the South. We hit a storm. Theship was destroyed, and we washed up on the beach here. But I wasthe only one alive. That’s when Benjamin found me.”
My heart pulsedhard against the inside of my chest. He aged. Even though he becamepart of the curse, he wasn’t bound by the way time stood still forthe original crew. Which meant… I would age, too. And die. I didn’tknow whether to be upset by the news or comforted in knowing itwould all be over one day.
“And youtold them you were a cook?”
The old manturned and shrugged. “Of sorts.”
“What’sthat supposed to mean?”
“When Ilearned what they had planned for me, I told them I was a butcherand that I’d help them if they spared my life.”
I was lost in asea of confusion. “Helped them with what?”
He leanedacross the table and patted my hand. “The very thing I’d hope tospare you from.”
My mind jumpedfrom word to word, going over the vague things he said. Cook.Butcher. Bodies on the shore. I glanced up and saw the kitchen in adifferent light. The giant cleavers, the assortment of knives thathung from the walls. Wooden chopping blocks stained with colors ofrust. My stomach turned over and I couldn’t stomp down the risingsensation of my insides. My eyes scanned the floor and found alarge wooden pail.
I darted for itand heaved into it until my stomach was empty. Even then, I stillfelt sick. They ate people. Poor souls washed ashore in storms.Benjamin scooped them from the sand and Pleeman chopped them up.Suddenly, a lifetime trapped on The Black Soul seemed so much worsethan it already was.
Pleemanshuffled across to where I hunched over the pail and rubbed myback. “There, there. I know, it’s a lot to take in.”
I stood andwiped my mouth
