Captain James Hook and the Curse of Peter Pan (17 page)

We took the sloop around the island to the spot where I was to meet Emily.
 
You know where, I told her.
 
Though small, the ship was still too large to take safely into the lagoon.
 
We dropped anchor off-shore and I prepared a boat.
   

“Wait here,” I told them. “I’ll be bringing back another.”

“What makes you think we won’t leave you?” Cecco said with a smirk. William and Smee visibly tensed, but one look from me settled them.
 
I pulled a boarding hook out of my coat pocket and held it up to my eye.

“By now I’m sure you’ve learned better,” I joked.
 
No one laughed. “There are treasures to be found and more cities to burn,” I told them.
 
“Besides, I’ll be but a moment.”

With that, I began rowing to the shore.
 
I left William behind.
 
He didn’t need to be a part of this. This was between me and Emily.

Thinking of her brought back all the same worries over whether she could truly accept me.
 
Yes, she chose me over Captain Ashley back at the house.
 
That should be enough, but I needed to know.
 
Questions ran through my mind with each stroke of the oar against the water. Did she save me because she knew Captain Ashley was about to kill me or because she knew me and wanted me just the same?

I reached the shore and looked up at the growth hanging over the rocky wall. The climb up the steep side of the cliff was hard, but I remembered the way.
 
Of all the changes I had seen, this was the one place that remained the same.

More thoughts burned in my mind with each step. What if she did accept me wholly and completely? The life I had dreamt of returning to was long dead.
 
As I reached the top of the rocky overhang, with blood pounding in my ears, I realized that all the days of my future depended on the next few minutes.

“Emily?” I called out.
 
For a moment, I wondered if she was even coming.
 
When I found her, she was sitting on the rocks we used to lay on as children.
 
Her golden hair and slender frame were outlined by the reflection of the setting sun in the lagoon.
 
Infinite moments of perfection.

“I’ve been here for a few minutes now,” she said.
 
She smiled over her shoulder at me and ran into my arms.
 
She broke from me only to reach back behind the rocks.
 
“I think this belongs to you,” she said as she handed me a treasure beyond words. I grasped my father’s sword, noting how much lighter it was in my hands now than the last time I held it.

“How did you get this?” I asked her.
 
“It was on the ship when it sank.”

“Captain Ashley brought it back as part of the proof of our fathers’ deaths.
 
By rights, it belongs to you.”

I thanked her and clutched the last remaining piece of my father.
 
Tied to the hilt, was my mother’s old cloth.
 

“It is something to remember them both,” she said.
 
“Almost like being with them again.”
 
One tear ran down my cheek.
 
Memories returned to me as I thought that the last time I saw this sword I was with… Pan. I then remembered everything that happened afterwards.
 

“There’s so much I still need to tell you,” I said.

“Do you?” she asked. There was a familiar coolness in her voice. She was preparing herself for another story like Peter Pan.
 
I opened my mouth to speak, but she placed a hand on my cheek and added, “I knew you would do whatever it took to keep your promise to me.” Her eyes begged me not to say anymore.
 
Every person has a threshold of understanding.
 
Perhaps she knew hers better than most.
 

There was a breath behind some bushes and a pause that lasted a second too long.
 
The click of a pistol was deafening in the silent woods.
 
The brilliant scarlet coat told me who it was before he spoke.

“Do you think I don’t know my own bride to be?” Captain Ashley smirked.
 
He stepped out from where he’d been hiding and pointed the pistol at me.
 
“She’d come here often and just stare off.
 
I thought it had to do with her father or brother or something.
 
If I’d known it was over you, I’d have put an end to it.” Up until this point, I had given up all hope that Emily had mourned me for long.
 
She didn’t seem the type.
 
My joy at finding out otherwise was somewhat diminished by threat of death, but not by much.

“At least,” Captain Ashley said, “I can finally put an end to you.” He fired without the hint of doubt or hesitation.
 
The shot thundered in the air, but the bullet never reached me.
 
Before I could react, Emily was in my arms. I felt the bullet hit her back. She looked at me in disbelief as her body went heavy and tumbled to the ground.
 

Chapter Thirty-Four

I cradled Emily as each cough brought blood to her lips and jerked her body to the side.
 
Her eyes, once so full of life, fell slowly into death. I didn’t cry.
 
I was strong for her.

“James,” she gasped.
 
“I tried to … tell you before…”
 
She began to go limp and I felt her grasp weaken on my shoulder.

“No!” I yelled. “Stay with me.” She lifted her head and summoned her strength to speak one final time.

“Ashley… It’s not his fault,” she coughed.
 
More blood came.

“Impossible,” I told her.
 
Heath Ashley had aimed and fired.
 
He intended to kill me and she got in the way.
 
There was no one else to blame for the fault.
 
I looked to her to explain, but I was too late. I watched the light in her eyes fade.

For an untold time, I forgot Captain Ashley was even there.
 
I was only reminded when I heard him whisper, “Oh, my god, what have I done?”
 
I turned to see my lover’s killer. Ashley lowered his pistol in shock.
 
The color drained from his features to match his dull, grey eyes.
 
Between breaths, he exhaled “Oh Lord, please forgive me.”

“You don’t get to mourn her,” I snarled at him.
 
My words didn’t budge him an inch.
 
He stood, mouth agape, over Emily’s body.
 
The body of the last pure thing I had in this world.

My body took over where my mind would have cautioned.
 
I pulled my father’s sword from its sheath and struck at Captain Ashley.
 
He came to his senses enough to parry the blow with the pistol in his hand.
 
He dodged the next three swipes as well.

He struck me with the butt of his pistol and got distance.
 
By the time I turned, I saw that he shed his vivid red coat and drew his own sword into guard.
 
There was no talking.
 
There were no taunts.
 
This was a fight to the death without quarter given or received.
 
If I was to die, let it be by Emily’s side as it should have been a lifetime from now.
 
No day beyond this moment was worth it if he still breathed.

Heath Ashley stood upright, holding his sword low at his hip, but at an upward angle.
 
I circled him to his left and drew the boarding hook out from within my coat.
 
I struck twice high and thrust low.
 
He blocked each strike before shoving me back and pushing his attack.
 
He feinted right and unleashed a rapid combination of thrusts and strikes that the expression on his face suggested would certainly end me.

I parried and cut him, just barely, with a low, upward rip across his chest using the hook.
 
His expression changed from one of certainty, to shock, then settled on embarrassment mixed with disgust.

“You dirty, sickly, little savage!” he cried out.
 
He drew his breath to say more, but I pressed the attack.
 
Reflexively, he parried and slashed me across my back.
 
I barely felt the sting.
 
He kicked me down and prepared the killing blow.
 

Then the most unusual event occurred.
 
His foot caught a hidden rock in the tall grass and his sword drove deep into the grass next to me.
 
I recovered quickly enough to jab him in the ribs with the point of my sword.

Enraged, he swiped and missed, his back foot caught in a shallow patch of mud.
 
I thrust high and caught him in the shoulder.

It is then that I realized that I did not stop to recognize my advantage. Captain Ashley may have been the more accomplished swordsman, but this was my terrain.
 
Here, I knew everything.
 
Every rock, every soft patch of grass, every spot where your foot sank just a little bit deeper than you expected.
 
Especially in the fading light of dusk, here I was unbeatable.

He began to retreat and found himself with his back against the cliff’s edge.
 
He looked down, then back to me with certainty that only one of us would survive the next exchange.

Captain Ashley swiped high.
 
His sword caught my hook and sent it spinning into the bushes.
 
He charged and thrust downward, but I feinted left, measured the distance, and stepped hard with my lead foot, driving the point of my sword through his midsection.
 
I pushed it straight to the hilt and looked him dead in the face so that I could savor every subtle twitch.

He dropped his sword in the grass as blood oozed down his arm.
 
His face was a mixture of sadness and loss, like one who had grand dreams taken from him.
 

His death wasn’t just for me.
 
It was for the others.
 
For Emily.
 
For my mother.
 
For William. For my father and Mr. Jukes. Yes, even for Smee.
 
For them and many more I drew my sword out of him and kicked him over the side and down into the lagoon.

An icy cool ran through me as I knelt next to Emily’s forever still body and covered her with my coat.
 
I said my final words, knowing she would have a grave, a tombstone, and a proper burial here in Port Royal.
 
I left everything that James Hoodkins was with her, not just to rest, but so that she might know at least part of the way to heaven.
 

I rose to my feet, grabbed Heath Ashley’s bold red jacket, and headed down the cliff solely as Captain Hook.

When I returned to the ship and gave the order to make sail, only William hesitated.
 
As his captain, I owed him no explanation.
 
As his friend, I owed him some form of the truth.

“She’s staying,” I told him.
 
He looked at my new coat and the blood on my hands but said nothing.
 
I glanced down at my stained clothes and added, “I gave her my coat.
 
It was cleaner than Captain Ashley’s.” He nodded and asked no further questions. Our time on the island those years ago taught him the value of holding fast to a fantasy.

“Course and heading, Captain?” Starkey asked. Black smoke billowed in the distance from the blaze we set earlier. Firelight danced on dark clouds as a necessary plan formed in my mind.

“Southeast,” I told him. He joined the others in seamless harmony. They tethered and hitched, all with an unspoken understanding of their roles. They were silent, focused, and efficient, nearly ready for what was coming next.

“Mr. Starkey,” I called out across the deck of the sloop.
 
He turned his head, never breaking the rhythm of the work. “Have you ever heard of the
Jolly Roger
?”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Two years of gathering information through trade and raid brought us to the morning we retook my father’s ship.
 
William and I stood shoulder to shoulder and watched the sunrise bathe the
Jolly Roger
in rich orange and yellow rays.
 
Our eyes tracked the growing dark spot that crested the horizon and crept across the water towards us.

The lessons I learned as a boy clung to me tightly.
 
More so than when we killed the male croc on the island, the plan to lead Jesse Labette to his death was carefully thought out.
 

Labette had been looking for a new partner in trade since the news of Blackbeard’s death last November at Ocracoke Island.
 
It seemed that Blackbeard let himself get ambushed by British ships and a few hired sloops.
 
His guns managed to blow one sloop aside, but the drinking he and his men did the night before dulled their wits to the point of folly.
 
The heroic and infinitely civilized first lieutenant who organized the attack hung Blackbeard’s head on the Bowsprit of his ship as a trophy.

We were one night’s sail away of where the raid of Charles Town took place when we heard.
 
Each man took the news in his own way.
 
Some men sang songs of their fallen hero.
 
Others, William included, fell silent for hours.
 
Smee sobbed quietly for the loss of a second father.
 
I understood how he felt but spoke to no one about it.
 

Blackbeard had been my guide through this second life. In many ways, he shaped me as much as my true father and as repayment I ran his ship aground.
 
Looking back, I didn’t regret betraying him.
 
It seemed fitting somehow.