“Have you got it there, son?” he asked, watching the boy hurriedly roll the ropes a bit slower than they were being thrown to him.

Lamar looked up from where he was diligently working and cast his superior a grin. He gave a salute. “Yes, sir,” he shouted back. “How’s Pearl?”

The man grinned, proud to be able to speak of her. “Still has her spirit…getting into trouble near everyday…making her old man near crazy.” He smiled. “But she’s smart as a lick. Something you don’t see in women all too often.”

Lamar snickered. “I wouldn’t comment on that around town if I were you, sir.” He reached up to pull down the rest of the lines. “Women today have opinions and minds of their own. Very independent.”

Ben patted his lips together before rolling his eyes. “You’ll never see one on this ship.” “It’s a shame I won’t be able to make sure you keep to that, sir,” Lamar said.

Ben stopped in his tracks, a confused look upon his face.

“This is my last day on the ship, sir…”

Benjamin shot backward. “What?” he said, befuddled. “What do you mean your last day on the ship, you’ve only been with us one fishing season.”

The young boy nodded, sure of his decision. “Yes, I know that, sir,” he said, sighing as he brought in the ropes that had once been on the masts. His eyes gazed out onto the sea in thought before he turned back to Ben. “This just isn’t the life for me, Ben. Never will be.”

The older gentleman helped him bring them to the bottom of the ship. “Oh and what is? Working with the government or becoming a storekeeper or barber?” He shook his head. “Where’s the adventure in that?”

“That’s just the thing. We need someone in government to stand up for the fishermen, show them that they can’t keep taxing us out of ship and home. We’re starving, dying, and they know it. We have families.” He paused, looking Ben in the eye. “Daughters.” Lamar smiled at his last response. “I don’t need adventure, sir. Just justice.”

Ben laughed. “Smart lad. That you always were and will be.” Impulsively, he took the boy into a tight hug. “I’ll miss you around here, Lamar. But good luck in all you pursue. Make us proud.”

Lamar grinned. “I promise. The next time you see me you will be.”

As he left to go back onto the dock and pick up his last earnings, Ben looked upon his with a mixture of happy and sad eyes. He would miss the boy…

* * * * *

The tall, lanky teenager crossed her arms indignantly over her criss-cross turtleneck complete with tunic. “Come on, Jack, what’re you waiting for?” Pearl called, tightening the strings on her boots.

The boy, a few months younger than her, wavered. “I don’t know, Pearl…It-it just doesn’t sound like a good idea to me,” he declared, shaking his head.

Pearl frowned. “Jack, you promised.”

“I know, but-” He looked back and forth paranoidly. “But this isn’t exactly the best way to get your idea across.”

“What is then?” she demanded. “We’ve petitioned, bitched, and held as many rallies as there are sea captains in this port.”

“I don’t like it,” he proclaimed, disapprovingly.

She heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Well, what would you like? The landlubber dealers taking away the rest of our families’ savings? They’ve already ducted them half a year’s pay.”

He mirrored her sigh and looked down. “That doesn’t make me like it any more, Pearl. Revenge is the wrong way to go about this.”

“You have any better ideas?” she asked calmly.

Jack thought about it and realized he didn’t. He frowned. There had to be another way, but deep down he wanted to get back at the lawyers just as much as she did. It took him a few minutes, but finally he sighed in defeat. “Fine…” he agreed unconvincingly.

A grin broke out on the girl’s face as she put her arms around him and gave him a peck on the cheek. “You won’t regret this.” Excited, she grabbed her bag and swung it over her shoulders. “We’re finally going to show those skinflints who’s boss…”

Jack followed her hesitantly, looking back once more before carrying through with their plan. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Pearl.”

* * * * *

Lucas McCormick finished writing in his journal and tucked it in between the mattresses of his bed as a loud rap caused him to look to the old, oak door. His aged eyes darted at the sound as a shiver rode down his spine. “Give an old man a minute to hobble to his callers,” he called in a cracking voice. Paranoia hit and hit hard. He wasn’t expecting anyone tonight, and the visions of an old enemy with a sharpened blade and patch where an eye once was waiting behind the thin wall of oak became more and more of a possibility with each step toward the door. Nervously, Lucas grabbed his pistol and cocked back the safety. Taking a deep breath, he threw back the door.

A man in weathered brown sea-faring clothes, black boots, a hide jacket, bandana, and tiny hoops with green beads on each ear stood before him.

“Whoa, Lucas…” The rather large man quietly put his hands up. “It’s me, Pete, old shipmate…” His rough face softened. “Age hasn’t completely stolen your memory, has it, old friend?”

Lucas’ shoulders fell, instantly clipping the safety back on. “Goddamn, Peterson…I’m sorry.”

“Easy, old friend,” he said calmingly, immediate relief giving way to concern. “I always pay you a visit the first of the month.”

Lucas blinked, surprised. “Today is the first of October isn’t it…forgive me, Peter.” He motioned for the seasoned sailorman to follow him into the parlor. “Come, there’s much to talk about…”

Peterson’s brow furrowed as he obediently followed his old captain deeper into the dilapidated lodgings, his boots stomping through the house. Something was wrong, and he had his instincts on what it could be. A frown set onto his features. And he didn’t like it one bit. “You’ve got me spooked…”

Lucas turned with wild eyes. “Peterson, do you realize that there are warrants out for our arrest and trial for piracy AND treason…”

Peterson jumped back. “Treason?” he exclaimed. “On what grounds?”

“They’re saying we’ve been attacking our own port’s ships.”

“That’s preposterous! Why would we attack our own country’s ships?!”

The seasoned pirate froze in shock. “And do you know what the penalty is for treason?” Lucas made a line across his throat with his finger. “They hate us already, Pete…this is just something else that they can get us for, make us an example for everyone else.”

Peterson’s cheek twitched, the reality of being hanged hitting hard. “That’s insanity.”

“I know it and so do you and everybody else in this god-forsaken port,” he said, whispering. “But we’ve got to go back. Now. Before its too late.”

His eyes went wide. “Now? You know I’m as superstitious as the next guy, but Lucas, do you know what time is it out of all days?”

He nodded. “Aye…the hundredth anniversary of the ship that our fathers brought down, the Adversity after the battle at Palermo Point to get to our ill-gotten gains…not a one lived after that blood purge…”

Peterson took a deep breath. “That was a hundred years ago though. Surely they’re all dead by now. Even if some survived,” he rationalized.

“Pirates are a special breed, Pete, you know that. We live older than the hills…”

“Well, I’m not going to let them or their ghosts stop me from getting to our stashes. We need them to live the rest of our lives in peace. The scent of war’s in the air.”

Lucas shook his head. “Or blood if you go back there…”

“Luke, you don’t seriously think that-”

The old man’s fervor returned quick as lightning as he turned and grabbed Peterson by the collar, nearly lifting him off his feet. “I don’t think! I know better than any of you could possibly.”

Peterson shook his head in surprise. “But they all died at sea years ago. They couldn’t possibly have come back.”

Lucas shook a finger at him knowingly. “They made a promise.”

“Blimey, you can’t believe that-”

“Sold their souls for that promise! Wrote a pact in blood!” he shouted to the high heavens, shaking his fist at their invisible spirits in the air. Lucas stepped so close to Peterson he thought their noses would touch. “And they’re coming for me and they’ll come after you if you go back.”

A chill rode by Peterson’s spine as he watched his friend slowly come out of his frenzy. “Calm yourself,” he replied slowly. He let out a nervous laugh. “I never figured you a fool for that kind of thing.”

“This kind of thing is serious. You go out there you’re playing with fate and doom. Two realities that are only ideas and words to you.” He paused. “And I don’t think you have one inkling of how to overcome either if faced with it. You were always the joker of the group, Peterson. It was always fun and games with you…”

His face slowly hardened. “I’ve been through more these past few years than I think you remember old friend…I can carry my own, don’t fool yourself thinking otherwise.”

“Funny, how often you use the words ‘old’ and ‘fool’ around me…” he said.

Peterson shut his eyes. “I’m sorry, Lucas. I meant no harm.”

“No do I, laddie, nor do I,” he replied, nodding. “Arguing is pointless.”

“And we both know we have to go,” Peterson said matter-o-factually.

Silence met his response and Lucas looked away.

Peterson’s brow furrowed. “You know we have to,” he repeated.

“Age has got to me, you have that part right at least, my friend,” he said sadly.

Peterson shot backwards. “Lucas, I can’t do this without you. We’re shipmates, brothers if I daresay. We’ve been through everything together. What’s one last adventure? For old times sake?”

He slowly shook his head. “No, you and you alone must start this journey, as much as I hate to see you even begin…” Lucas turned and opened a china cabinet behind him, and blinking back emotion, Peterson followed him.

Smiling so the crinkles around his eyes returned, Lucas retrieved an ancient rolled piece of parchment. “You know what this is,” he said, handing his friend the piece of cloth the two had lived and breathed by for the better part of their lives.

“The map…” he whispered, grinning slightly as he held it up nostalgically. “Remember when it fell overboard and old Fenigan dove in after it with that scratchy war cry of his?” The reminiscence got Lucas to laughing. “Almost took out a seagull when he fell in?”

“Crazy old fool,” Lucas said between chuckles. After a few seconds, he cleared his throat. “We’ve had a lot of memories by this old thing, haven’t we?” He turned it over in his hands, running them gingerly along the primeval creases.

“Yeah…not sure I want them to end like this…” Peterson replied quietly.

“Had to come someday, we both knew that,” he said quickly before emotion set in. He took a deep breath. “I’m not sure how many people know I’m here, and I don’t know how many might have heard us by now.”

Peterson nodded. “I know when to take my leave.” He grabbed his overcoat and headed for the door.

Reaching out, Lucas put a hand on his shoulder. “May God be with you.”

“Same to you, old friend.” He put back on his hat and glanced back once more. “Same to you…” Peterson took in a shuddering breath, glancing paranoidly in all directions before taking off into the night. He knew the time would come one day when their adventures would truly be over…he just never realized how unprepared he was to accept it.

* * * * *

“Bingo, we’re in,” Pearl sang, throwing the professional lock pick back into her heist bag. “Come on, nobody’ll even know we’re here.” She looked up at the town clock and shrugged. “Or at least for the next fifteen minutes anyway.”

Cautiously, following her inside the luxurious tax house, Jack held the homemade fireworks with a queasy look upon his lips. “Pearl, this is insane…”

“I know. I came up with it, didn’t I?” she asked innocently with a carefree wink. Grabbing a bundle, she took off down the hallway of the one story edifice and planted the small bombs all around the house. Reluctantly, Jack did the same, sighing with each one he secured to the side of the woodwork. Pearl hung upside down off of the stairway, hooking a sparkler up to the ceiling.

Jack had been silent for a few moments before he softly but firmly took her arm. “Pearl, that’s enough.” Shaking her head, Pearl set down one more before he gripped it slightly tighter. “Pearl.”

She rolled her eyes slightly, calming down. “Okay, you’re right, that’s enough,” she quietly agreed, putting the pack back around her shoulders.

“Pearl, how are we going to light these and still have enough time to get out?”

She held up the long fuse with a mischievous smile.

“How strong are they though?”

She sighed, nodding with a small look of apology and jumped down on her feet. “Don’t worry, all these babies can do is get his attention. Nothing’ll explode.” She looked up in thought. “Or at least I don’t think so.”

Jack gave a snort that was supposed to be a surprised laugh. “What? This is not the kind of thing you second guess!”

Pearl grinned. “No turning back now. If anything happens I’ll either take full responsibility or get out of it somehow. But these people need to learn a lesson. We’re not going to sit back and take it while they teal just one more day’s worth of food from us so they can buy that portrait of King Henry VIII.” Impulsively, she sparked a match, letting it light up her already shining eyes. “So let the teaching begin…” And with that, the first fuse was afire, the smoke of rebellion slowly rising up into the air for everyone to see.

* * * * *

The explosions erupted throughout the chateau, louder and much more destructive than Pearl had anticipated.

Her eyes were twice their normal size. “What the…”

Jack gasped. “Pearl!” he screamed over the booming detonations. “I thought you said these were just for show!”

Pearl’s mouth fell open in shock. “Get out of here!” she exclaimed, grabbing her bag and doing a flip back onto the ground from the top of the staircase. The two took off out of the house and bolted around the corner. Pearl slammed the door behind her and blindly ran out into the cobblestone streets.

With a gasp, she turned just in time for her nose and the rest of her body to crash into the front of a rather large gentleman blocking her path.

* * * * *

Peterson heard the explosion at least a block away from where it took place. Curious, he dashed around the corner along with the rest of town to see what the matter was. To his surprise, the courthouse lay in pieces, slowly collapsing from the detonation from what appeared to be…fireworks?

The shock and wonder of the crowd around him heightened as the smoke cleared and half of the building lie in ruins. “Wow…” he said, nodding. But as he looked up, he was hit, hard in the chest.

By a muddied, charcoal covered kid?

The girl looked up and immediately began to take off again.

“Hey, watch it, kid!” Peterson said, frowning deeply as he caught the back of her shirt. “You’re supposed to apologize when you run into somebody.”

“I’m sorry!” she shouted hurriedly, trying to break away from his grip.

Peterson held tight, arching an eyebrow at her and then with a start looked back at the methodically exploding ornate building in front of him. “Huh?” He gazed at it and then at the grappling child in his hand. “Wait a minute, you-”

With a small grunt, Pearl broke away, ripping the back of her old white button-down and disappeared behind an alleyway.

Peterson’s mouth closed from its shocked ‘o’ as he looked around at the confused and equally startled boulevard until finally five very important looking men with puffed out neck collars and overly powdered wigs, their fists and faces clenched in rage. The leader was a man almost as large as himself. Some people would call him well-fed. And here come to the fat-cats of aristocratic society…he thought to himself. Peterson inwardly sneered at them. Preying on the fishermen and commoners for everything they owned…He turned to take his leave when he froze, staring straight at a weathered sign on the side of a blacksmith shop.

It was a perfect replica of himself. Mesmerized, he slowly walked up to the charcoal wonder.

“Peterson Renaldi…wanted for piracy and treason…” Peterson muttered, reading off in disbelief. “Reward to be announced…”

The buck and rear of a horse next to him brought him back to reality.

He near gasped. The deputy’s horse. Jay Mulligan, deputy and ambitious newspaper editor extraordinare, one of the worst combinations Peterson had encountered since Blackbeard and Sir Francis Drake had a disagreement over the poker table back in Port Vincent. Peterson darted backwards, slowly slinking into the shadows of the nearest hole in the wall. Not today, he thought. Maybe some other time, but that excuse for a human being was not getting the pleasure of persecuting him until he set out to complete Lucas’ legacy.

Peterson bumped into something soft when he expected wall and swerved around threateningly, pistol extended.

The girl who had run into him minutes beforehand threw up her arms in surrender and backed up against the wall. “Whoa, whoa!” Pearl eyed the weapon with narrowed eyebrows. “Put that thing away before you poke someone’s eye out…”

Peterson smirked, unamused by the child’s sarcasm as he reluctantly un-cocked the revolver and joined her, silently in the corner of the alleyway. “I guess you hide a lot back here, don’t you?”

She frowned. “You’re supposed to apologize when you run into somebody,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.

“You’ve got a lot of mouth for a skinny little kid.”

Pearl shrugged. “You’ve got a lot of posters for a two-bit pirate.”

The old sailor’s eyes locked onto hers in surprise. “So you always talk this way to escaped pirates? I’ve killed men for less…” He frowned at her, the dim light catching his jungle green earring ominously. “So I suggest you hold your silence…”

Weighing her odds, Pearl did so, clamping her lips together. She knew a bad situation when she saw one and this was it. Securing her bag around her shoulder, Pearl gave him a sloppy salute. “Don’t worry. I never saw you,” she said walking around the back of a garbage pile to try to intermingle with the rest of the colonists who were sure to be surrounding the rubble that was once the shipmasters’ headquarters.

“No one ever does,” he muttered as the girl turned the corner and he returned to crouch in the corner of the dark corridor until the commotion died down.

Suddenly, the noise became louder and the atmosphere in front of him more tense. “Hey, there she is!”

“It’s the girl!”

“Somebody stop her!”

A flash that Peterson was sure was the kid whipped past the small view of the alleyway, apprehended by a line of officers and townsmen. The sailor shook his head. She was done. Sure enough, a few minutes later, a little longer than Peterson though actually, two townsmen grabbed a hold of her strong arms, dragging her back to face the consequences of her actions.

“HEY!” Pearl shouted, kicking her legs and flailing her arms in a sad attempt to escape their grasp. “GETOFFAME!”

But they held tight and the next time she looked up Pearl came face to face with the leader of the aristocracy, Garrison Walker stared down at her so hard Pearl thought she would turn into a vaporized spot on the cobblestones.

“Did you do this?” he demanded. The square went deadly silent.

Looking back with scared eyes, Pearl gulped. “I…” Her eyes darted back to the building and his face. Walker took a few steps even closer, causing her to fall into herself.

“Answer me, girl!” he ordered in a gruff bellow, echoing throughout the town.

Pearl sighed, closing her eyes as her head fell forward in shame. “Yes, sir.”

The crowd started with a gasp and worked its way up to a roar. Peterson’s eyes softened as the girl looked down, her cheeks burning. He sat back in thought. Why would she set off explosives inside a government building? It seemed a bit much for a thrill. Still, Peterson knew better than anyone else that there were certain extents you found yourself taking after awhile.

Suddenly, the crowd parted and Sheriff John Thompson rode his stead into the plaza. He eyed the girl and the dilapidated edifice in front of him, perplexed. He blinked up at the governor, straddling off his horse. “What seems to be the problem here, Walker?”

“This child has DESTROYED my court-house!” he exclaimed, his temples bulging as his face turned ever redder than the blush on his cheeks.

It took all of John Thompson’s willpower not to roll his eyes at the very display. He gazed down and the girl shot her head upward. He near gasped. “Pearl?” It was Benjamin’s daughter. John’s eyebrows fell in disappointment and send her a gaze of authority. Boy, was she going to get it once Ben found out. But for now, he’d do his best to go easy on her.

She looked back down, mortified. “Hey, Sheriff…what’s going on…”

John shook his head, not sure what to say. Just like her to keep the smartass comments flying in this situation.

“Sheriff, the law’s clear in this instance,” Walker said in a voice that made Peterson want to punch his lights out. “I want this girl prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.”

Peterson dared to get slightly closer, finding it hard to hear the Sheriff’s voice.

“She’s a juvenile, Walker…” He looked back, trying to find a way to word his statement so that it made sense to everyone in the square. “We have no laws persecuting children with parents...we’ll leave it to them.” John looked down at Pearl, who’s face was turning redder by the minute. He paused, allowing the crowd to discuss his proclamation for a moment. “However…” he began, raising his voice and gaining their attention. “Seeing as how she is a fisherman’s child, the debt will be paid by the fisher’s fund. The Patterson yearly income will be cut to pay for the damages.” Ben was going to go off his rocker, but for now this was the best John could do. “Other than that, the girl here will be sent to do community work around town.”

The crowd seemed satisfied, but Garrison only growled, his eyes folding down into slits. “My building is brought to the ground by a smart-alecky street wench-”

John put a hand on the governor’s shoulder, squeezing it just hard enough to let him know that he would squeeze it harder if another word was said. “We won’t need any kind of talk like that,” he said in a whisper that was even more threatening than if he would have screamed it. “You’re lucky all you lost was that house…after what you’ve done to this town…” John gave a gentlemanly smile that betrayed his demeanor. He arched his neck toward Pearl. “And I hear you’ve even so much as thought about laying a finger on that girl, you’ll have more than the law to bargain with.”

With that, he tipped his hat and began to walk away.

“Oh, Sheriff,” Garrison called back as he turned to face him. “You may want to watch your mouth before it lands you in your own prison…”

John chuckled, pretending the governor had just made a joke and nodded, accepting the challenge. He sighed as the governor and the rest of the town began to turn away. Suddenly, a voice called out from the town population. “Hey! What about the other boy that was with her?”

The crowd slowly returned, nods and agreeing remarks rising up in a loud clamor. Jay Mulligan cleared his throat on top of his horse importantly. “Order! Order!” he shouted. “What boy?” he asked Pearl.

With big eyes, Pearl shrugged making a confused look. “Interrogate her!” someone else called as if at a circus. The crowd agreed, loving the idea of an accomplice. Back in alleyway, Peterson held his breath. She was going to expose him. It would be the perfect cover. Peterson made as little noise as possible as he tried to come up with a makeshift cover of garbage to hide himself. If they found him…he was dead…

“Was there anybody else with you?” John asked, eyeing her seriously.

Pearl thought for a moment. If she turned the pirate in, they’d be so busy with him they’d forget all about her. She eyed the opening of the corridor, weighing each choice. No, she decided. She couldn’t rat him out. “There was no one else with me.”

Garrison growled. “I don’t believe it.”

Jay stuck his head higher up into the air. “Well, I’m sure we’ll get to the-”

“The girl said she was alone. You must be mistaken,” the sheriff interjected. John stepped in front of him, almost as tall as Jay was atop his horse. “We’ll keep an eye out,” he said in a voice made more authoritative by its common nature in the midst of such power and influence. “You can all go back to your homes now, folks. There’s nothing more to see here.”

Reluctantly, they all left, going back to their monotonous lives. John took Pearl by the arm, lecturing her loudly and bordering along the lines of violently. Back in the alleyway, Peterson let out a deep breath of air, holding the spot in his chest where he was sure his heart was about to burst from the powerful beating of it inside of him. He wiped the sweat off of his brow. Peterson sat back trying to ignore the strong stench as he became more comfortable. It was going to be a long night.