Second on the Right (32 page)

Benedict stopped midstride. He nodded for the
bo'sun to continue with his orders and made his way into his
quarters. James screamed, shouting for him to listen, begging for
his help, but Benedict was gone.

Evening approached. Benedict had remained in
his quarters. He paced, sat down, then got back up again countless
times. The bo'sun knocked on the captain's doors.

"Aye!" Benedict yelled out, his mind
elsewhere.

"Cap'n. Beggin' yer pardon. The pris'ner ‘as
not stopped. 'E ‘as been yellin' since 'e's been aboard. Cap'n, the
crew won't take much more," he said, pleading for the captain to
intervene.

Benedict sighed. "Bring him ta me. I'll speak
with him."

In a few minutes, James was roughly pushed
into the captain's quarters. The doors slammed shut behind him.
Eyebrow raised, James had satisfaction written on his countenance.
A stern look from Benedict wiped any such look off James' face.

"Sit," Benedict said, nodding to a chair at
the table. James hesitated. Benedict kicked the chair, sliding it
away from the table. "I said sit," he repeated quietly.

James sat down. The captain looked different
from when James had first met him. His appearance was more like
what Eileen had described him when she had first met him on the
Mistral Thief
. He was wearing a large brim hat with blue
feathers atop. His clothes consisted of a white shirt, over which
he wore a brown vest, chest belt, yellow sash, and blue knee-length
jacket. He was surprisingly well dressed for a pirate. Despite his
aged, weathered, and scarred face, he looked rather striking.

Sitting back in his chair opposite James,
Benedict placed one boot on top of the other on the table. He
placed a small dagger on the table between them. Benedict folded
his hands in his lap. He looked over James, attempting to read
him.

After a while, ghost of a smile flitted
across his lips. "I hear ye be harrasin' me crew. Makin' quite a
racket. Yer lucky me crew didn’t cast ye overboard."

"You wouldn't listen, wouldn't hear me out,"
James said, hardly raising his head, his eyes peering at Benedict
from just under his brow. "You left me no choice."

Benedict waited. James stared at him.
Benedict finally spoke up, "Well? What is it ye want? Or do ye
require more time in tha brig ta figure that out?" He grinned.

James raised an eyebrow, obviously not amused
by Benedict's mockery. "I spoke the truth earlier. Eileen and my
son, Robbie, are both dead. Murdered
.
"

Benedict’s body tensed and he asked, "By
whose hand?"

"The very same that took mine," James
answered, his voice dripping with contempt, as he raised the
bandaged stump of his right arm. “Peter Pan.”

Benedict felt his breath leave him. A pain
shot through his heart. He looked away, hoping to hide his grief at
the loss of the woman who had won him over. She was dead and by
Pan, of all people. His face hardened as he sat up, boots to the
floor. "He shall lose more than a hand." Benedict replied angrily.
"When I'm through with him, he shall lose his heart."

Standing up suddenly, with his left hand
James took the dagger from the table and slammed the tip down deep
into the center, nearly breaking it at the hilt. "No! He's mine!"
James shouted, spittle flying from his mouth as he said the words
with vehemence.

Benedict looked up in surprise. In the short
time he had known James, other than the previous left hook to the
jaw he had never seen James in such a rage. James had seemed easy
going and passive, but now he had the hint, the possible makings of
a true pirate. Benedict's mind began to work, planning how he could
use this newfound information to his advantage. Though his heart
was broken at the thought of losing Eileen, there was no sense in
dwelling on it now. He would grieve for her in private.

Taking in deep breaths, James sat back down.
"He shall pay. I will make him pay, for my wife and my son and my
daughter—" he looked down, his shoulder slumping as if his
depression were physically weighing them down. Taking out his
wallet, he located the picture of Eileen and Robbie and removed it
from its protective sleeve. The photograph was creased and worn.
James ran a finger down the picture.

Benedict cleared his throat. "And, uh, what
is it ye have there?" He reached his hand out, palm facing up,
waiting.

James hesitated. This was the only picture he
had with him. Eventually, he relented and gave it to Benedict. As
he lifted the picture to hand it to the captain, James stopped. He
looked from the picture to Benedict and back again, before placing
the picture in Benedict’s hand.

Benedict turned the picture over. He dared
not react, but what a pleasure it was to see her face again.
Placing one hand over his mouth to cover a slight smile, he looked
from her to the boy.

"He looks a lot like you," James said.

For the first time in his life, Captain
Robert Benedict truly felt uncomfortable. The boy did look a lot
like him. Hearing James say so placed a pit in his stomach. He
managed to say, "Does he now? Hadn't noticed." He took one long
last look at the picture before handing it back.

James paused for a moment, his hand on the
photograph. With an eyebrow raised, he said softly, "Were you in
love with her?"

Benedict felt his advantage slipping away. He
needed to end this line of questioning fast. It would do neither of
them good to reveal any secrets.

"She was too demandin'. Stubborn as well. A
fiery wench as there ever was. She could hold her own and took no
guff from no one." He stopped, seeing he was failing to convince
James.

"She held you in high regard," James
offered.

Benedict could say nothing and avoided eye
contact. The awkwardness of the conversation was more than he could
take. "I'll see to it ye have a bed for tha night. Ye be part o'
tha crew. Means ye work." He looked at James. "Is there anythin'
else ye be needin'?

James nodded, "A ship. A crew. And the means
to draw up a map to
Neverland
."

Benedict scoffed, "A ship and a crew? Is that
all? Before ye be gettin' any o' that, ye need ta learn ta be a
sailor first, pirate secon'. Ye know nothin' 'bout the sea. Learn
first. Then we talk."

After James left his quarters, Benedict
stared out the glass panes of the
Mistral Thief
. He pondered
what James had said.
Eileen, dead?
It wasn’t too long ago he
had seen her. He wanted to be near her and would have given
anything for the chance, if not for James.

He kicked himself mentally at the thought. If
he’d had known his first encounter with Eileen would have been
limited, he would’ve put all of his efforts into winning her heart
as she had won his. Unfortunately, she was unexpectedly taken. When
at last he was reunited with Eileen, too much time had passed. Fate
had been cruel, stepping in once again to remind him the two were
not meant to be. He had tried to win her heart and felt he had come
close. Though the wine and rum had lowered her inhibitions, it
wasn’t the same.

Then he suffered heartache. First, he
witnessed James' proposal and her acceptance. Then, he revealed his
love for her, but didn’t receive it in return. She was kind,
speaking of how she cared for him and how much his opinion meant to
her. Daria’s familiar voice called him home to his time. All he
could do was say goodbye and kiss her one last time.

Having returned to the
Mistral Thief
,
Captain Benedict resigned himself to the fact that, even if he were
to meet Eileen again, it would end in failure. He still believed he
would give anything to be with her, even if it were only for one
night. Ever the survivor, Captain Robert Benedict continued on.

As days turned to weeks, Captain Benedict
found James' presence served as a painful reminder of Eileen's
absence. He needed to focus his attention on other things. During
this time, he had done his best to hurry along the training. It
wasn’t easy to teach him sword fighting. Benedict was right-handed,
while James was born left-handed. Still, Benedict was a skilled
fighter, able to use two rapiers or switch hands in a fight if
necessary. James was a quick learner. Benedict noted what drove
James was quite different from what had motivated Eileen. Though
timid at first, Eileen had a suppressed passion for learning that,
once released, created an exceptionally skilled pirate.

An exceptional woman,
he thought,
fondly remembering the night on the porch.

James, on the other hand, was motivated by
not only the loss of his family, but also by his strong desire for
revenge. Benedict was amazed by how strongly the need for vengeance
could push a man. James was so determined to gain strength,
agility, and knowledge that he often ended up with a bloodied hand
and bruises throughout his body.

Benedict realized James' right arm was of
little use without his right hand. Knowing a decent blacksmith in
Kingstown and needing to resupply regardless, the
Mistral
Thief
sailed for Saint Vincent Island. Benedict introduced the
blacksmith who would fit James for a device that might help. Paying
the smithy, Benedict promised the remainder once James had found
and was properly set with an appliance over the stump at the end of
his right arm. James seemed uncomfortable with the idea of having
some random piece of equipment attached to his body. He spoke with
the blacksmith in order to learn about what options he had
available.

Knowing iron would hold up better than other
available materials in work and fighting, James opted for it. But
what shape? An iron hand, iron arm, iron hook, or iron dagger?
Nothing sounded like it would work out well. He was curious about
the iron arm, until the blacksmith explained the arm was typically
for someone who had lost most of the arm. It would not only
complete the shape of the arm, but would also serve to carry a
shield in battle. Though a good option for a soldier, it would
merely weigh him down on the ship, posing a danger on the high
seas. An iron hand was an option. James had thought that a hand
wouldn’t offer much in the way of defense. He would need something
to aid in a fight.

Finally, he looked over the hook and the
dagger. The dagger would make for an excellent additional weapon.
With a cutlass in his left hand and the dagger for a right hand, he
would be armed appropriately for any fight; however, the dagger
would limit him on daily uses around the ship, such as holding a
line. The hook could not only serve as a weapon, but also help him
in climbing a ladder or rigging. Though not entirely happy, he at
last decided on the hook as his best option. The blacksmith set to
work on the hook and harness.

Evening came and Benedict extended an
invitation for James to dine in his quarters. Benedict waved to the
food, onto which James immediately began to feast. In silence,
Benedict sat back, observing him as he ate. Rolling an apple around
in his hand, he thought about the past months and how much James
had improved. It was time to discuss his future. Taking a large
bite of his apple, pieces flecked in his beard and juice ran down
his chin. He remained deep in thought until James cleared his
throat. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed. James had
finished eating. Rising, Benedict fetched a small chest from the
corner of the cabin and set it roughly on the table.

"Open it," he instructed.

James’s fingers explored the front of the
chest until he opened it. Inside he found a large folded parchment,
a compass, a variety of brushes, quills, and one bottle of black
liquid. His eyes ran over every item, seemingly overjoyed. A
genuine smile spread across his face.

"Ye have use of me quarters for the night."
He turned to leave, but paused at the door. "Just ta be clear, once
ye are finished, I intend ta look over tha map."