"Is that true?” Judge Gardner growled at Winslow.
Winslow looked frantically around him, resembling nothing so much as a rat surrounded by famished felines, but seeing no escape, he whined, “It were just business—and we got a good prize out of it, didn't we? No harm done."
Mother, I thought that I had gained a certain understanding of pirates, but the next few moments disproved that, and perhaps it is just as well. It was my expectation that the crew, having been fooled in such a manner, would turn on Winslow and perhaps even keelhaul him! Instead, they laughed.
No, “laughed” is too flimsy a word. They roared—it rolled over the sea like a typhoon of hilarity. The only solemn moment was when Talman asked how much Andrew had paid Winslow, but when the crew learned that he'd been given nothing in advance, the pirates laughed until tears ran down their faces. Even the true story of how Winslow came to get his scars—from another pirate, no less—was greeted with peals of merriment.
Of course, it would be incorrect to say that everyone laughed. Talman did not, but I've never met a man less likely to find amusement in life than he, unless it were Father. And poor Captain Matlock did not, for which I could not blame him, given that he'd just learned that his brother had plotted his death. And while Captain Parker smiled widely, the humor never reached his eyes.
As for me, it would have been impolitic not to join in, at least in a small way, and I hope that my chuckles did not greatly offend Captain Matlock.
The rest of that day and evening was a blur, as much food and a great deal of rum was consumed. Even Captain Matlock joined in, once freed from his manacles, seeming to hold no permanent grudge against his captors. If this seems odd to you, Mother, remember that both sailors and merchants tend to be pragmatic men, and Matlock is both. Moreover, there was the comforting knowledge that he was not to be keelhauled. And, of course, the generous quantities of Jamaica's finest rum.
The next day, Parker himself accompanied Matlock and myself on the longboat that was to take us to shore. Along the way, I asked Matlock, “What do you intend to do about your brother?"
"I'm not sure,” he said. “I could settle a sum of money on him, but knowing him the way I do, I doubt it would last long. And once it was gone, he would likely make another attempt on my life."
Captain Parker cleared his throat. “Something could be arranged, were you to wish him gone."
"I do not think I could kill my own brother,” Matlock said, but a most malicious grin crossed his face. “Though I must admit that it's tempting."
Oddly, almost the same grin crossed Captain Parker's face.
Perhaps seeing that grin was why I said, “Captain Parker, you told me that you once sailed with Captain Matlock's father."
Matlock said, “I hope you found him a fair man."
"Not to speak of, no,” Parker said. “I never knew a harder captain, not even among the Brethren."
Matlock looked embarrassed. “My mother often said Father had a good heart, but it was hard to see it. I fear she suffered from his temper even more than the rest of us.” There must have been some reaction from Parker, because Matlock said, “Did you meet my mother, as well?"
"I was first mate when your father brought her to Port Royal,” Parker said. “A most gracious woman, she was, and if you don't mind my saying so, the most beautiful woman it has ever been my pleasure to encounter."
Far from being offended, Matlock looked pleased by the praise.
We soon arrived on shore, and Parker shook both our hands. Even more welcome than that gesture was the heavy money pouch he gave me before taking his leave.
And that, my dearest Mother, was my latest adventure. Upon returning to town, Captain Matlock thanked me with great sincerity, and a few days later, a more tangible expression of his gratitude arrived. He sent the coat, as well, freshly cleaned and pressed, but I returned it to him. I told him he might wish to wear it for good luck, upon his upcoming nuptials to Miss Gowan.
Yes, the two became engaged shortly after our return. While Miss Gowan thanked me most prettily for my efforts on Matlock's behalf, she followed it up with a speech about how she saw me as a beloved brother. Perhaps it's just as well. There are women in Port Royal with whom I have not yet danced, and it would be a shame to find a superior dancer once I had already pledged myself to a lifelong waltz with another.
And most assuredly I will dance with Miss Gowan at her wedding, though it may be delayed due to a tragedy in the family. Captain Matlock's brother Andrew has disappeared. Some say he fell off one of the city's docks while the worse for drink. Others say he lost one bet too many. And others swear he's been seen about a pirate ship, though a man so afflicted by seasickness would surely not choose such a life. In any case, I doubt he will threaten his brother again.
At some point during the trip back to Port Royal, a notion occurred to me. I thought about a beautiful woman married to a tyrant, and the handsome first mate Parker must have been. And I thought of two dark-haired men, with full shoulders and startling blue eyes. Perhaps I know what debt Captain Parker felt he owed to Benjamin Matlock.
I think that debt is now paid.
I remain your most loving and devoted son.
Copyright © 2009 by Toni L. P. Kelner
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