Wicked's Way

by Anna Fienberg

  ‘Like a painted ship on a painted ocean,’ said the pirate with one leg.

  ‘That’s real poetic,’ said Goose, struck. ‘Did you make that up yer own self?’

  ‘Nah, I heard it somewhere.’

  The First Mate went up to the poop deck to see the Captain. When he came back he looked relieved. ‘Captain said it’s no matter if we sail in tonight or tomorrow. No one’s gunna fight us for that treasure. We’ll just wait for the wind to change, so take yer ease, gentlemen, there’ll be a fine sunset to watch this evenin’.’

  The pirates cheered, and Squid went off to find his last bottle of rum.

  Then the First Mate called over to Will. ‘All except you, Wicked. Captain wants ye to go up the crow’s nest tonight. We could be in a tricky situation, like, so close to Devil Island. The islanders might send out a boat full of musket shot. Cap’n wants you to spend the night up there.’

  Will went hot with alarm. ‘Couldn’t I just keep an eye from the poop deck? I’ll have my telescope, don’t you worry.’

  ‘Captain’s orders, lad. You’re to spend the night in the basket.’ For the first time Will saw an expression of sympathy on the man’s face.

  When he’d gone, Will only had time to whisper to Headlice, ‘That’s messed everything up! What if I fall asleep? What if I don’t hear when your mother comes?’

  Headlice patted his shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll come and get you. It’s a good thing I learned to climb the ropes so well, eh? Must’ve had a good teacher.’

  The sun set on the horizon like a fireball shot from a cannon. The sky ran with red and the sea turned to blood beneath it. To the east Will could see the black fuzz of forest on Turtle Island and to the west, yellow globs of firelight flickered along the Devil Island coast. Cooking fires, he thought, and a wave of homesickness made him dizzy.

  From high up in the rigging, Will could hear the pirates’ laughter on the deck below. He tried not to think how lonely he felt. He tried to think only of tomorrow, when he’d be sitting at a table in a kitchen that didn’t float, with kind people who weren’t pirates with grudges or drinking problems, or strange empty eyes with weirdness in them.

  ‘And best of all,’ he told Treasure, ‘soon I’ll see you.’

  Imagine what she’d say when he knocked on her door. Imagine how she would smile! He suddenly felt shy at the thought. What would he say? ‘I’ll tell you how much I missed you, and that you will always be my greatest treasure!’ He smiled to himself at his own little joke. When the two of them were safely together on the back verandah with the hill of coconut palms rolling out in front and the smell of roasting chicken wafting from the stove, he would tell her about his adventures – because that’s what all the awful things that had happened to him would turn into, he knew, with Treasure at his side.

  The moon rose in an inky sky and Will went on imagining his homecoming. Now he knew so much more about the world, he would find a way to get to the Mainland and look for his mother. He might need to rescue her; she may have been kidnapped just like him … He shifted restlessly in the cramped space. Now that his own rescue was so near he couldn’t wait. It was as if he could just reach out a little further with his fingertips and catch hold of his mother’s hand, touch the back of Treasure’s dark head, glimpse the moon glowing hazily through the clouds …

  The sky had cleared and was sparkly with stars when Will woke with a jolt. His heart thudded against the wall of his chest. Down below, there was the quiet of sleeping men. A snore, a slurred curse in a dream. Nothing to be alarmed about, he told himself. He must have drifted off for a moment. The water slapped softly at the sides of the ship like voices murmuring, back and forth, back and …

  He peered down over the side.

  Tied to the hull of the ship, portside, was a small wooden boat. A slender woman was standing in the boat holding up a lantern. In the lemon light he saw her stretch out an arm to a boy about to clamber in. Will stifled a cry; if he called out to them now the whole ship would wake up. He waved his arms wildly.

  But the woman and the boy didn’t look up.

  He scurried down the rigging more quickly than he’d ever moved before. As he got closer to the deck he heard snatches of words from the boat. Headlice’s excited chatter, his mother’s steadier reply.

  ‘… taught me how to climb that rope ladder like a monkey, he can walk a tightrope, swing on the rigging, it’s amazing … Captain’s favourite …’

  ‘Come on, dear, hurry into the boat … No, we can’t take him with us … No, I said … You know why … dangerous enough taking you … I know, but you’re still the man’s property … no time to argue … think of your little brother at home … Oh, because if we took his favourite, his pet boy, he’d come after us like the devil. No, we’d never be safe!’

  Will dropped to the ground and ran like the wind along the deck. His heart was thumping so loud now it was hard to hear anything. He wouldn’t take up much space in the boat, he wouldn’t. It’d be all right as soon as she saw him. She would see he was just a boy, just like her own.

  He was almost there when the rope slid from the rail and slipped thwack into the water. In the pale starlight he caught Headlice’s gaze.

  The boy was standing up in the boat, the rope in his hands. He and Will locked eyes; Headlice was the first to look away.

  ‘Haul in that rope and take the oar,’ his mother told him. ‘Look lively now before some villain wakes.’

  Headlice flung the rope into the boat and settled himself on the seat. He didn’t look back. He didn’t see Will’s face or how the life drained out of it as he and his mother rowed away.

  Chapter 14

  Will watched the boat vanish into the dark.

  He kept looking long after it was gone. There’d been the tiny flame of the lantern, the moon playing on the water. As long as he kept looking, the great black thing inside him wouldn’t come out.

  When he unhooked his fingers from the rail and turned around, he knew it would get him. He didn’t want to face it. He thought instead about Treasure. ‘We’ll be all right,’ she’d said.

  But it wasn’t all right. Treasure, his mother and now his friend were all floating somewhere out in the world; they were lost in the dark and he was lost too and he just couldn’t see how they would ever find each other. He didn’t want to think this, but then it was all he could think, and the terrible black thing was going to swallow him.

  He ran to the bow of the ship. But the empty sea looked no different no matter where he was. What if he called out? For a moment he imagined doing it – the pirates would come rushing, the Captain marching up the steps, ‘What’s all this racket then?’ Maybe they’d even be in time to follow the little boat, bring it back …

  Will clapped his hand over his mouth – he couldn’t do that, he’d never do that.

  ‘Why aren’t you up in the crow’s nest as I ordered?’ asked a low, smooth voice.

  He spun around to see the Captain, fully dressed with his sword at his side.

  The Captain nodded as if Will had spoken. ‘Abandoned you, has he? Your little friend?’

  Will said nothing.

  ‘What did I tell you? You’ve a lot to learn about the world, young Wicked.’

  The First Mate burst onto the deck dressed only in his nightshirt. ‘Headlice? Gone? Why I’ll … that scurvy little sea dog! But we still got the map, sir. We’ll still find the treasure.’

  The Captain gave a thin smile. ‘I am at a loss to know what fills that head of yours. You think the boy would have left something as valuable as a true treasure map in our possession?’ He turned to Will. ‘Tell me Wicked, just out of idle curiosity, did you believe there was treasure on Turtle Island?’

  Will bit his cheek.

  Dogfish had stumbled onto the deck, with more pirates behind him.

  Will couldn’t think. There was only the big black thing inside him. If he opened his mouth it would come out.

  He saw Dogfish shaking his head
at him.

  What did that mean? That he should tell the Captain no, he hadn’t believed it? But then his life would be over – the Captain had said so. Keep your eyes on the prize, his mother had told him. But what was the prize in this world of pirates and lies? He didn’t know. For the first time he wondered if his mother’s advice had covered everything.

  The Captain studied him. ‘Perhaps we will go to Devil Island now and fetch the wretch. We’ll ask him.’

  ‘No!’ shouted Will. ‘There is no treasure on Turtle Island, we only made it up so we could escape. And there’s no point in going back to Devil Island – Headlice has gone somewhere you’ll never find him. He’ll be far away by now.’

  ‘And so he has left you to face the punishment. A good friend indeed …’ The Captain flicked a smut from the ruffle of his shirt. ‘Seems you can’t trust anyone in this world. How very sad.’

  Dogfish sighed loudly.

  ‘I would have expected more from you, Wicked, I really would,’ the Captain went on. ‘Regarding your friend, I’ll say good riddance. But you – I thought you’d have showed me more gratitude. I am very disappointed.’

  ‘You and me both,’ Dogfish muttered under his breath. ‘Looking forward to puttin’ me feet up for a bit, I was.’

  ‘An’ countin’ a mountain of gold coins,’ snarled the First Mate.

  ‘That’s me favourite activity!’ put in the pirate with one leg.

  ‘The only way to relieve my disappointment is to punish you,’ the Captain said. He tapped his chin lightly, thinking. ‘Let me see: there’s the lash, the plank, a good keelhauling …’

  Dogfish spluttered. ‘Steady on, sir, he’s only a lad.’

  The Captain ignored him. ‘But I think, seeing as all these punishments require so much effort, the best thing is to remove you from my sight. You’ll go up to the crow’s nest for three days and three nights to contemplate your sins.’ Motioning to the First Mate to follow, he started back to his cabin. ‘We’ll turn about now. We won’t wait till morning. I don’t trust those Devil Islanders – we’ll head due south and leave this cursed place at once.’

  ‘Aye aye, Cap’n,’ said the First Mate.

  With a backward glance at Will, the Captain added softly, ‘And Wicked, while you’re up there, you might meditate upon your curious lack of gratitude. I wonder how you can ever make it up to me?’

  Will shivered although it wasn’t a cold night. A cloud passed over the moon as the Captain left the deck, and the pirates began unrolling the sails.

  Dogfish put a hand on Will’s shoulder. ‘You’re gettin’ off lightly, Wicked. I mean, considerin’.’

  Will’s hands were sweating. ‘I’m sorry, Dogfish.’

  ‘Ah, never mind, we would all try to get off this floatin’ hell if we had the chance.’

  ‘But Dogfish, I don’t want to be alone up there with the thing.’

  ‘What thing?’

  Will couldn’t find any words for it. So instead, he said, ‘I might die from … hunger.’

  Dogfish rooted in his pocket and brought out a cold piece of fish. ‘Here, take this with yer. I was keepin’ it for later but you’ll need it more than me. An’ next time, be careful who you let save your life.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Sometimes, like, the obligation you’re stuck with is worse.’

  Will stared blankly.

  ‘The debt you gotta pay ’em,’ sighed Dogfish. ‘A man like the Captain, it’ll never get paid. When you was overboard you’d ’ave been better off learnin’ how to swim.’

  ‘But that’s impossible – you can’t learn in a moment!’

  Dogfish raised his eyes to heaven. ‘You never know what you can do when there’s no one else to save you but yerself.’

  Up in the crow’s nest, Will told himself he’d got off lightly, just as Dogfish had said. He was lucky, really. He’d even got a flask of water to last him. The crow’s nest was peaceful, the safest place. He’d try to find Treasure in his mind and remember her fascinating facts. He could talk to his mother again.

  But there was the black thing inside him, too. He was alone with it now, and it was frightening. He must have caught it from the Captain. It was fierce, like a dangerous animal kept down in the dungeon. Maybe if he threw it food, it might go back to sleep.

  He gobbled up the shark meat Dogfish had given him. He imagined eating Honey’s chicken mango, his mother’s hot baked bread. He tried to feel the food filling his belly. Often that worked. But nothing seemed to soothe the thing.

  And it got out. It was big and dark and shapeless and it swamped him with terror so he couldn’t move. It trampled his thoughts. He was stuck inside it, stuck in his dread.

  The second time the sun went down, he saw his mother. She was walking the tightrope, high and free, her arms outstretched, balancing her own weight as she went. But she wasn’t walking among the mangroves. She was far away in a circus on the Mainland – a spotlight on her happy face, a crowd cheering at her feet. ‘Look at that,’ whispered the Captain in his ear. ‘Seems you can’t trust anyone in this wide world. Even your mother. My word, you’ve got a lot to learn, young Wicked.’

  The sea below darkened, falling quiet. But something loud and angry flared in Will’s chest. I’ll keep you safe till you’re grown, his mother had promised. You’re my precious boy.

  ‘Why wasn’t it you in that boat?’ he shouted. ‘Why didn’t you come looking for me? Where were you when I called and called and called?’

  By the time the sun sank for the third time, his eyes stung with weeping and his throat was raw. But he was so tired now he couldn’t care. Nothing hurt him. His body seemed to belong to someone else, and his feelings had flown away. When he stood up, he felt as light as air. He was hardly there.

  ‘You’ve learnt the first lesson, Wicked,’ the Captain said when he’d climbed down. ‘Friends lie and women betray you. Why, your own mother broke her promise. How long do you think she’d have been satisfied, stuck on that godforsaken island with a mewling puppy for entertainment? Face the facts, you weren’t enough for her.’ A look of bitterness crossed the Captain’s face. ‘She wanted more. She’d tasted success, the admiration of men. I’ve known females like that, dozens of ’em. Listen to me now, lad, and I’ll teach you how to get on in this world. You’ll be my star pupil. A first-class pirate.’

  He gave Will a smile.

  And it was Wicked who smiled back.

  No one noticed the change. The boys and pirates went about their duties, grizzling about their hunger, misery, bad dreams, the weather. As usual, no one bothered to listen to the other. There were spats over rations of rum, whose turn it was on dog watch, what blaggard took the last piece of dried mutton. Squid nearly lost an eye when he fell over Buzzard’s boots and ran into the bowsprit; Buzzard almost lost his hearing when Squid boxed his ears.

  But scarcely ever did a man or boy besides Wicked have to climb the crow’s nest. Without being ordered, he went up the rigging most mornings and stayed there until he was told to come down. And even though no one was friendly to Wicked since the lie about hidden treasure, they were grateful at least to be spared the seasickness and danger of the bucket.

  The pirates fended off a Spanish warship in open seas, then ran aground fleeing the French. But most privately agreed with the Captain that it was Wicked who saved them from the worst battles and certain defeat; his vigilance up in the rigging meant they had time to judge when to change course and retreat, and when to stay and attack.

  Now Wicked talked and acted like a pirate; he didn’t have to pretend, he just was one. When he got swiped with a sword in a battle, he thought it strange that he didn’t feel it. He saw the blood well up from the wound in his chest and drip onto his legs. But there was no pain. Even afterwards, when he’d thrown a bucket of seawater at the gash, he felt no sting, maybe just a slight tingle. It was as if all his nerve endings had been blunted up there in the crow’s nest, as if the silence stretching from one end of the hor
izon to the other had drowned them.

  Chapter 15

  After five years had passed at sea, Wicked gave up trying to figure out on which day his birthday fell. It didn’t matter anymore. Time was a droopy, elastic thing. His beard was growing in, thick and dark, making him wonder if his father had been a hairy man.

  Tall as Dogfish now, he was, and he’d grown meat on his bones. He remembered, early on, being skinny as a whip. He’d scurried up and down the rigging, swinging out over the yardarm, patching cracks in the mast, keeping busy. These days, he just climbed up in the morning and lolled there all day. His own mother wouldn’t recognise him. He felt very old, as far as he felt anything much, and that he had acquired too much experience of the world.

  When the pirates raided ports and plundered towns, he went with them. Sometimes, he had a good meal and a drop of ale. But the fear and loathing he saw on the faces of the wenches serving in the tavern made the grog come back up again. After a while he concluded that being on land made him more seasick than being aboard ship. By now, the sea was his home.

  Wicked hardly remembered the time when he’d planned to escape. He knew that up in the crow’s nest he used to talk to his mother; he’d replayed Treasure’s stories about the little creatures with homes on their backs and giant creatures that swam from one side of the world to the other. He did remember that once, when he spotted a whale spouting, he’d almost cried out to her – look, that’s just the way you described it!

  But he didn’t do that much anymore. Up in the rigging, he mostly just stared into space, gazing at the empty horizon. He was no longer curious about what might loom upon it. What was the point of thinking about the old life? It was better this way. Childhood was so far away it was like a dream, and this was real. ‘You can’t lie around all day with your eyes shut,’ the Captain said, ‘or you’ll wake up with a sword through your middle.’

  The main prize, he’d worked out, was survival. That meant listening to the Captain and doing what he was told. Loyalty and obedience weren’t so hard, after all. And as cold and hard and villainous as he might be, the Captain was still the only one who’d ever bothered to reach out and pluck him from death’s jaws – that rotten place his mother had left him.