Page 14 of If I Go Down with This Ship

“Come on,” Jack says, nodding to Mick as he steers me away.“You ’ave a lot more introductions to make ’fore the day’s through.”

Under the blaring heat of the sun, I let Jack lead me around the ship, the logbook still secured under my arm.I don’t really know what to do with it now that I have it.Am I supposed to protect it with my life?Am I supposed to be writing all of this down?And if I do have to write something down, how do I use a quill pen?I’m too terrified to ask anyone.

My keys jingle in my pocket, my notebook digs into my right butt cheek, and my phone presses against my thigh as I follow Jack, and I have the sinking suspicion I’ll have to get rid of these things sooner rather than later.I might be able to get away with the notebook, jot down some ideas for my book in private, but my phone and keys?My time is already clashing with this place.Am I going to break the space-time continuum or some shit if Jack sees my phone?

The ship is small, the crew even smaller, and it doesn’t take long for Jack to introduce me to most of them.After having lost roughly half their people, they are depleted, running around and scrambling to do two, sometimes even three jobs at once.I feel faint just watching them jogging between ends of the ship, multitasking, struggling to keepShe Deceitfulsailing smoothly.

They look exhausted, wounds and cuts roughly bandagedacross their bodies, healing too slowly because of the overworking.Their stores are running low, and from the expressions they wear as we pass, I know in my gut that peace aboard this ship will not last long if Captain Night cannot rally them.With fewer than thirty pirates aboardShe Deceitful, the crew and its captain were hanging on by a thread well before I arrived.

And yet, despite my expectations, what surprises me the mostisthe crew.

Even with battle wounds and fresh scars and constant scowls, they are kind, welcoming even in the face of my sudden appearance, and it only makes everything that much more confusing.They bend down as Sir weaves between their legs, nearly tripping every single person he rubs against, and they only laugh and give him his scritches before returning to their work.I amconfounded.This is the crew that watched on in delight as their captain pressed a blade to my throat and threatened to toss me into the sea.This is a crew rife with stories of their adventures and crimes, ones told by others in what I can only imagine is fear and hushed tones.This is a crew targeted by the British navy itself.

And their captain.

How I was both terrified of and attracted to him as he threatened to kill me is mystifying.

Or is it?

But despite looks that could kill, the crew is kind, kinder than they should be, considering… well,everything.Some even go so far as making jokes.

“Ah, I recognize your voice,” I say as Jack introduces me to one of the crew members.

“I’m Eddie,” he says, holding out a hand to me.“I keep thetone on the ship light.We all need a good laugh.”He claps his hands excitedly.He’s an average-size white middle-aged man, and you can tell he’s been at this life for a long while.He’s missing a few teeth, and several scars are visible across his face, neck, and arms.He’s lost his left thumb, and there’s a long burn scar along his right forearm that almost has me asking what happened.

“His jokes are terrible!”Mick calls across the deck.

“You’re just jealous, is all!”Eddie yells in return.He faces me with a wide smile.“Why couldn’t the pirate play cards?”

He snickers as I study the faces of the few people nearby.One of them mutters something under his breath before turning to go.Another throws his hands up in defeat and stomps off.Jack covers his face with his hands, muttering “Save me from this ’ell” under his breath.And Eddie, ever merry, ignores them.

“No one wants to hear it, Eddie!”Mick calls from across the ship.

“Shut up!”Eddie yells angrily.He focuses on me once more, smiling.“So?”

“I-I don’t know,” I admit, looking between them.

Eddie leans forward conspiratorially.“Because he was sitting on thedeck.”Eddie presses a hand to his chest, throws back his head, andhowls.

He elbows me as Jack jabs his thumb down the deck, urging me on before I can respond.

“Plenty more where that comes from!”Eddie calls after us.“Find me when you need a good laugh!”

“No good at jokes, that one,” Jack says when we’re out of earshot.“We’ll be in the middle of a raid, and ’e’ll pop up outta nowhere with a line.”

“I don’t know.I almost feel bad for him.It wasn’t that terrible,” I say.Based on some of their reactions to Eddie’s jokes, it’s probably best not to admit that I love a good play on words.

Jack snorts.“’E’s chewed through ’is own finger to escape the gallows.It’s why ’e’s missing teeth and ’is thumb.Don’t underestimate ’im, Laszlo.”

Well, appearances can be deceiving.

The rest of the crew simply nods to me when I hold out a hand in greeting to each of them.None are out for blood—that I can see.I suppose the whole “bloodthirsty pirate” image was always just a myth, a bit of propaganda, perhaps to scare people.Even if some of them are willing to chew through their own limbs when the time comes.

We stop at the quarterdeck, and I think of those moments earlier when I was certain I was going to die.I lean against the railing and look out over the water, my stomach doing little flips as I imagine what’s lurking beneath the surface, ready to swallow me whole.I want to push away, but I stay here, forcing myself to stare at the choppy water.I shouldn’t be standing here, shouldn’t be holding the logbook.I should be down there in the water, long dead.

Not that I want to be, of course.I very much enjoy being alive, thank you.

Captain Night spots us, and he turns from the helm.Now that I’m standing before him, all the humor is gone from his features.I’m starting to think he hates smiling.His face is expressionless, his dark eyes watchful as he takes me in, and I can’t stop myself—I’m openly staring.