Celestial Breeze

PROLOGUE

Jake straddled the pulpit of the ship’s bow. The foresail rope in one callused hand was all that kept him aloft as he inspected his crew scraping the barnacles from the Avenger’s hull.

They had sailed in two nights ago and beached her the next morning when the tide went out so that they could remove them and make the necessary repairs to their ship…his ship. This crew seemed to need more encouragement to work than his past crews, but most of them were still young and they would either learn or die quickly--there were no other options at sea. This was his first trip to this island since it happened; and he knew it would be his last.

He surveyed it now and saw some of the crew coming back with water and food. They would make many more such trips to get enough rations for the fifty-three members of his crew. He’d lost eighteen men so far on this voyage; the young ones. He let out a long breath and looked towards the ocean. How many men had he seen sent to the bottom over the years? The answer to that question came easily…too many. A good Captain always knows how many men he has working under him, and what they’re thinking. The latter was the most important, after all, pirates are not known for their loyalty. They praised the spoils of their labour, and the kill, and a good Captain had to balance the killing with the rewards, not enough either way and he would have a mutiny on his hands.

He swung his leg back and strode over to inspect the main mast Callan had been working on. She was holding strong this one, but the mainsail was in need of replacing again. It had already been repaired more than once. Perhaps the next ship would have one for the taking.

Jake ran his hand over the spot on the mast where Edward’s sword had nearly beheaded him, and with his left hand he rubbed his neck. ‘Damn him’, he thought. He looked again at the ocean, scanning the horizon for Edward’s ship but there was nothing. Not yet. He didn’t like being this vulnerable, not at this juncture, but it was necessary. The repairs to the ship had taken too long already and if Edward caught up with him now he would have no escape. Jake had two men on watch, one in the crow’s nest and the other at the stern, but the glare seemed extra strong today and Jake remained vigilant in his watch for Edward as well. Only a few hours left till sunset and then the tide would come back in and they could set sail.

If Jake had his way he would never come ashore. Most of his crew had abandoned him at their last port for this very reason. No explanation, just gone. Jake knew it was the three months at sea, only stopping at these small desolate islands occasionally for fresh water and food. The crews needed more. They wanted to spend their money on women, drink and meat. He understood their needs, but without Marianna it meant nothing to him.

He scanned the horizon and felt a warm breeze start up and remain steady. If Edward wasn’t close before, he would be soon.

He commanded his men to hurry with their tasks. Time was running out and they had to be finished before sunset so that they could return to the sea – and safety. It would have normally taken a week for repairs, but Jake didn’t have a week.

That little weasel Jeremiah was on Edward’s ship now. The only thing in Jake’s favour was that Jeremiah was not a very good sailor and he would only know the general vicinity of this island; but Jeremiah knew the way in, and that was dangerous knowledge…dangerous for Jake.

Jake stared out over the water and remembered his first time on a ship; he was only ten. He had stowed away on the Marquis, a frigate out of Scotland heading to the Caribbean with merchandise to sell to the settlers. He’d had no other choice.

He hadn’t started out to be a pirate, but there he found a kind of family and acceptance. He had been impressionable at that age and again wondered how life would have turned out if his father had lived.

This island wasn’t well known to many. It lay on the verge of evil waters so the old tars said, and most sailors were far too superstitious to venture out into this section of the ocean. That was good for Jake; it meant he had the island all to himself.

He went back to the bow, his men were taking too long to ready the ship and he scolded them like schoolboys, which wasn’t too far from some of their ages. Jake knew that they were taking their time because they were eager to stay on dry land for as long as possible. He understood their needs to stay more than he understood his own to get back onto the ocean. He only knew if he was able, he would stay at sea forever. The only time he had ever considered putting in at port was to see Marianna. She worked at the Bayalea Tavern on Virgin Gorda. Marianna was a strong-willed redhead with a left hook that could drop even the sturdiest of sailors. He had fallen for her hard, but so had Edward, although, Marianna only had eyes for Jake. This didn’t sit well with Edward.

The last time Jake docked his ship there had been a year ago. He had planned to take Marianna away with him, to make a new life together and give up pirating forever, but it was too late. It so happened that Edward had made her that same offer months earlier and when she declined his invitation he hit her.

Stubbert, the owner of the Bayalea Tavern, told him that Edward had hit her so hard that he had broken her neck. He said she had died very quickly. In Edward’s twisted mind he blamed Jake for Marianna’s death and set out to find him. Jake blamed himself as well and set out with his own agenda. Edward had gotten the best of him twice now; and with Jake’s ship in such dire need of repair, if he caught up with him now chances were that the outcome would not be in his favour. However, all he needed to do was to kill Edward and he would have his revenge.

Jake looked back to the horizon again and thought he saw a glint to the northeast. He ran to the helm and snatched the telescope that lay beside it. He peered through the lens and saw a ship far off in the distance, but it was coming closer. It had to be Edward’s ship, The Marietta.

Jake put up his hand to check the wind; it was still blowing well and directly at him. Edward would be here very soon.

Jake ran to the helm and rang the bell. It pealed wildly and everyone scrambled back on board. The men farther in immediately dropped their provisions and raced back to the Avenger.

READY THE CANNONS! He ordered and half the crew quickly and efficiently loaded the cannons. For whatever good it will do, he thought.

They were trapped here. He thought of sending his men into the interior of the island to hide, and wait in ambush, but Edward would send his own men, all cutthroats, and all more experienced than his own crew would ever have the chance to be. The tide would be coming in soon, bringing Edward with it. He looked at their faces, so young, looking to him for strength, but he had none to give them. He knew that most of them would die, as he would. Edward’s crew was twice Jake’s. That was when Jake did something no other pirate captain had ever done. He gave his men a choice. They could stay with him and fight or they could hide on the island and join Edward’s crew should he win. They all stayed.

Jake looked out to see Edward’s ship coming closer. He touched the sword on his right hip with his left hand and caressed the hilt. He had made this sword himself at his own forge on the island’s interior. His own secret place. His father had taught him well in the few short years they had been together. He carved his name, Jake, into the handle; for that was his only name now, his pirate name. His previous life had been taken away from him in much the same manner his father had been taken away. Jake now clasped his hand around his sword and raised it to the sky with a loud cry, and his men echoed, their cries even louder, for as young as they were they would follow their Captain, even to their death.

Edward had gone around Jake’s ship and out of cannon range, without wasting any of his artillery. The Marietta came alongside, beaching her in the process, and his men swarmed the Avenger with a skill that came from years of boarding and looting dozens of ships. Jake killed more than his share of Edward’s men, but it was Edward he wanted, and it was Edward he saw standing at the bow of The Marietta watching the slaughter.

Jake fought hard and it cut at his soul to watch his men fall one by one until he was the only one left.

It was clear that Edward had ordered his men to leave Jake unharmed. When the battle was over Edward strode across the plank and boarded the Avenger. Jake still had his cutlass in hand and his body tensed as he saw Edward come aboard, his hand gripped the sword tightly and he aimed it at Edward. He was dressed in a dirty white shirt and torn blue pants; his hair was long and matted, the same as his beard. Jake could smell him even before he boarded. Edward did not fit the image of a pirate Captain, but then again, neither did Jake. Although Jake’s dark hair was long, he always kept it back, tied with a piece of Marianna’s scarf. He was clean shaven and his clothing was always clean. He felt a Captain should be an example to his men, not a disgrace. Edward was a disgrace. He now drew his sword and touched the tip of it to Jake’s.

So we fight! he spat.

Aye, I suppose we do. Jake spat back, his Scottish brogue accentuating every syllable.

Edward ordered Jake onto the island and Jake had no option but to go. He placed his sword back into his scabbard, knowing that Edward would not kill him yet. He stepped gingerly over the bodies of his crew, bloodied and still, and descended down the rope on the port side of the ship and waded ashore, for the tide was now coming in.

He walked past Jeremiah, who was now on the beach, his sword bloody from the fight. Jake glared at him and Jeremiah turned his eyes away. Jake knew that there was shame in those eyes. Edward followed a short distance behind. Some of Edward’s men had gone ashore first to make sure Jake didn’t try to run off, but Edward seemed sure that he wouldn’t. He caught up to Jake quickly and both drew their swords.

Do you want to tell me where you’ve put my treasure now, or do you want me to cut that information out of ya piece by piece? he smiled, exposing his yellowed and rotted teeth.

Find it, Jake replied quietly with a sly grin.

Oh, I will. The boys tell me it’s not on yer ship, so I’m thinking it must be on this island of yorn, he waved his sword towards the island’s interior. Either way, we’ll find it.

Will ya now? Jake smiled, his lip curling up. His smile would have been dazzling had he not lost his left front tooth and incisor in one of his raids a couple of years back.

Edward started first as he brought his sword up to Jake’s with a loud clang of steel on steel. Jake countered and stepped back. The crew of the Marietta looked on silently as Jake was getting the best of Edward.

Yer no a very good swordsman, Edward. Should ya no hae had a few lessons? he mocked, and saw Edward’s eyes flare.

Don’t try my patience, boy, many’s a man who’s died at the end of my blade. He struck his blows harder at Jake, who was smiling.

Aye? This blade? Jake’s cutlass clanged off of Edward’s hard, sending him slightly off balance.

Edward roared and flew at Jake, edging him back towards the trees.

Yeh seem a wee bit upset, Eddie. Do yeh no like teh lose? He was still smiling but there was a fire in Jake’s eyes now and he struck harder, the clash of steel echoed over the island.

I WILL NEVER LOSE TO YOU! he screamed.

She never liked ya Edward. Ya were too old. Ya weren’t even clean enough to be her pet, Jake wanted to incite him and Edward’s reaction to his words was like pouring oil onto a fire, his sword hit Jake’s so hard it was knocked out of his hand and he fell backwards onto the sand. Edward rushed at him, stood over him and placed the tip of his sword on Jake’s chest.

Where is my gold? Tell me and I may let you live, he growled.

You’ll no find ma treasure, it’s long gone…just like Marianna. Jake looked Edward straight in the eyes and saw what he could only assume was madness. It was the last thing he saw as Edward plunged the sword straight through his heart.

CHAPTER 1

The doors to the emergency room slammed open. Alex could hear them as they hit the walls and then bounced back, scraping alongside his stretcher, but all he could manage to concentrate on was the intense pain in his chest. God, it felt like someone had skewered him. He was only twenty-eight years old, much too young for a heart attack, yet this was his fifth episode in the past three months, each one had been progressively more intense and yet none of them had even come close to this one.

You’re gonna be all right, Alex, Howie tried to reassure him.

Alex looked over at his friend and tried to smile in acknowledgement but the oxygen mask covered most of his face. He could do no more than blink in reply. He stared up, watching the lights on the ceiling whiz past and silently praying to God that this wasn’t the end. He wished now that he’d seen a doctor after that first episode in January; January first, to be exact. It was just a slight stabbing pain in his chest, and it didn’t last very long. He’d figured it was just one of the symptoms of quitting smoking.

He’d tried everything to quit over the past year, the patch, nicotine gum, he’d even gone cold turkey. His last ditch effort was hypnosis and it had been quite painless. He had been hypnotised at a party on New Year’s Eve. Apparently he had been the hit of the evening, although he didn’t remember any of it. He hadn’t experienced any of the usual symptoms, like the foul mood and those god-awful cravings that he had with his other attempts.

The second episode was about two weeks later, he remembered because it was Howie’s birthday and they were having lunch at Phillipe’s, a seafood restaurant on the pier. He’d excused himself when it started and sat in one of the washroom stalls until the feeling passed, which it did. He’d thought that one had just been indigestion, and attributed the heartburn to the subsequent episodes, as well. But he’d only had a few incidents, nothing major, and there were no other symptoms of a heart attack to go along with it. He hadn’t experienced any tingling or numbness in his arm, no dizziness, nothing to suggest it was anything more than heartburn. Still, he should have had it checked out; maybe now it was too late. Come to think of it, he seemed to have an ‘episode’ every couple of weeks or so.

He tried to recall his earlier experiences. Each episode had occurred when he was relaxed, calm, and off work. This one however, had happened at his desk. He had been sitting in his chair looking out over Lake Ontario when it hit. He remembered seeing the first sailboat of the season glide by and the pain started. It couldn’t be from smoking withdrawal or from lunch, it was ten in the morning and it felt like he’d been stabbed.

Alex lay in the examination room for a long time before Howie was allowed to come in and see him. The doctor had hooked him up to a heart monitor, taken his blood pressure and tried to get a family history from him while a nurse took most of his blood. He didn’t want to admit how scared and alone he felt. His family was still in Saskatchewan and Howie was the closest thing to family he had out here in Toronto. If Howie hadn’t come in to chat he may very well have been lying dead on his office floor at this very moment instead of in a hospital bed, alive. There was a small tap on the door and Howie poked his head in.

Hi, how ya feelin’? He closed the door quietly behind him and sat in the green plastic chair beside the bed. Howie’s normal GQ appearance was now gone. He carried his blue pinstripe suit jacket over his arm and the first two buttons of his shirt were undone. His tie was now hanging out of his pants pocket. His short blond hair was all mussed, probably from running his hands through it so much, Alex thought. Though he tried his best to cover it up, Alex could see how worried Howie was, and somehow he didn’t feel so alone or scared anymore.

Better, he replied, which was the truth. The pain was gone now and he hadn’t needed the oxygen mask any longer. Alex tried to sit up but Howie stood up quickly and placed one hand on his shoulder to stop him. Alex lay back down.

You just lay there till the doctor tells you to get up, he chided.

Alex smiled, Okay. He saw the worry on his friend’s face, sorry I scared you like that.

Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad I was there.

Me too, thanks. Alex dropped his head down and stared at the hand with the intravenous. He felt badly that he had intruded on Howie in this way, but that was silly, wasn’t it? He would have done the very same thing if the situation had been reversed.

You know, I’ve always thought that the IV was the worst part of the whole ‘being sick’ thing, Howie pointed at Alex’s hand.

Hmmph, I don’t even remember it going in, he raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. There was a knock at the door and a small Asian man entered. Dr. Nguyen asked Howie to step outside for a moment while he talked to his patient. Howie obliged and Alex waited for the bad news.

Alex stepped out of the room in the emergency ward where he had been and found Howie waiting for him over at the nurses’ station. From Alex’s angle though, it looked like he was trying to chat them up more than he was waiting. He walked over and slapped Howie on the back.

Come on, we’re outta here, he rushed past Howie.

Howie turned in disbelief. What? Already? Are you okay? Why are they letting you out? I thought you were having a heart attack?

Whoa, slow down. Doctor says I’m fine, I’ll tell you on the way back to work.

Oh, I don’t think so, pal, you’re going home, boss’s orders. Come on, my car’s right outside. They started to walk towards the exit when Howie turned to Alex, do you need a wheelchair, cause I can get you one, no problem?

Alex laughed, no, I’m okay to walk to the car. Let’s just get out of here.

They drove out of Toronto and towards Alex’s apartment in Mississauga. Howie waited until they were on the highway before asking about the diagnosis.

So? You gonna tell me? he started.

Alex sighed and continued looking out the window as he spoke, he told me I just had a panic attack. Said there was nothing wrong with my heart and he gave me a prescription for some pills. Alex was still in a state of disbelief at his diagnosis. He hadn’t been under any stress lately and he would never have described himself as panicky. Sure, work sucked, but he wasn’t upset about it, half the population hated their jobs. He was young, had a nice apartment, made enough money, and did his job well. Okay, maybe that was an overstatement, he did his job. Selling insurance hadn’t exactly been the first thing on his list of careers. Actually, there was no list. When he finished high school he had no idea what he wanted to do with his life so he just flipped the pages in the college catalogue and stuck his finger in the middle. It landed on insurance. He didn’t hate it, but in the back of his mind he always felt that there was something else he was destined for. Unfortunately, Destiny and he hadn’t met yet, but he did meet Howie in that class; and Howie was the one who convinced him to apply with him to Omega Insurance in Toronto after graduation. As luck would have it, they were both hired.

A panic attack can do that? Howie asked incredulously.

Apparently he also said I should take some time off, go on a vacation. Like I could afford that, he added.

Howie looked thoughtful for a moment and then turned to Alex, did I tell you I broke up with Treena?

Alex turned in shock. What? When did this happen? I thought you two were getting married?

Last week. We’d been fighting a lot lately and just decided to call the whole thing off, he answered matter-of-factly.

I can’t believe it, are you okay? And why didn’t you tell me earlier?

I’m fine, so is Treena, it was mutual. I was just waiting for the right time to tell you, he kept looking straight ahead.

So, you figured after my ‘near death’ experience would be a good time?

Get bent, you just told me you weren’t dying. Do you want to hear the rest of this or not?

Okay, what?

Well, you remember that trip I won for selling all that insurance in our area?

You mean the one where you were named one of the top five sellers in the company? Yeah, Alex nodded his head, Howie was always modest.

Treena was supposed to be going with me, but since we’re no longer a couple… hows about I take you?

You mean that schooner cruise out of the British Virgin Islands? Really? Oh, man, that would be awesome. Yeah, I’d love to go. But that’s next week, right? He replied excitedly.

Actually, it’s this Sunday. You’ve got a passport, right?

Yeah, oh, wait a minute. That’s for like a five-day cruise on the ocean, isn’t it?

Yeah, so?

I’ve never been on a boat before, what if I get seasick?

Please…on a full stomach you rode every coaster at Wonderland twice and didn’t puke. I hardly think a little boat cruise is gonna make you hurl, he laughed.

Alex smiled back, I suppose not. Okay, I’m in.

We’ll call Ron and let him know what’s up. He’s not gonna give you a hassle about taking time off after today, especially since the doctor specifically told you to go on vacation.

Probably not, I can just use one of my weeks now and that’ll still leave me, hmm, let’s see. Alex scratched his head and looked up at the roof of the car. Oh, yeah, one. he smiled at Howie.

Very funny. They pulled up to Alex’s apartment complex and he got out and thanked Howie for everything.

You’re welcome. I’ll call you tonight with all the details about the trip. We leave Sunday, so start packing, he waved and drove off.

Sunday didn’t leave him much time since it was already Thursday. Alex turned and unlocked the door to his apartment building, hoping that this cruise would help, but he had a strange feeling about it. It was nothing he could quite put his finger on, maybe it was just nerves. Oh, well, at least he wasn’t craving a cigarette.

CHAPTER 2

Peter sat in one of the red folding camp chairs at the bow of the ship and waited as Celeste checked on their dinner. It was after seven p.m. and dark, but the lights on the Celestial Breeze illuminated the deck nicely. There was a warm breeze tonight and the ship swayed gently with the waves. Peter loved it out here on the ocean. It was so peaceful. In the distance he could hear the faint sound of music from the clubhouse at the marina. He was too old for that sort of nightlife anymore; Sandra and Alonzo had taken the launch and gone dancing. Ah, to be young again, he thought, although technically, fifty-three was not ancient, but he felt it more and more these days. The wineglass started to slip from his hand and he barely managed to hold onto it. It was actually a plastic cup, no glass on deck. He put it back into the cup holder in the chair and clenched and opened his fist a few times. It felt better now.

At the bow of the ship there was a small rustling of feathers. Pelican had raised her head to see what Peter was doing and he shushed her to go back to sleep. Pelican was a small brown pelican that somehow ended up on their ship last year just after Christmas. The brown pelican is endangered and this one was alone. At first Celeste and Peter thought that she was just catching a ride, but she stayed. They knew enough not to feed her; and they never encouraged her to stay, but she did anyway. They had never named her; instead they just called her Pelican. She had been entertaining most of their guests by the simple task of diving into the ocean for her food. She followed the ship on each of its cruises and nestled at the bow each evening. She didn’t have her adult plumage yet and was still mostly a dark brown, but her head was starting to turn white. Celeste had checked the Internet about pelicans and found out that this meant she was probably nearing her third year. Whatever the reason, Pelican didn’t seem interested in leaving. In fact, she seemed to be quite at home on board the Celestial Breeze.

Celeste came up from below with their dinner of fresh grouper with a side of rice and mixed vegetables Alonzo had left for them. Peter had caught the fish earlier today. One of his favourite things about being at sea was the chance to catch his own dinner. It was always a surprise. He watched as Celeste walked towards him and he couldn’t help but think how lucky he had been to have a friend like her. He had met her when she was fourteen. Her parents had signed her up for sailing lessons and Peter had been her instructor. She was a quick learner and was soon learning on much larger boats. She had turned into a fine young woman. He wished she could find a fine young man, but Celeste seemed to be very picky about the men she dated, and with good reason he mused. At the tender age of twenty-one Celeste had won the lottery; the sole winning ticket of thirty-six million dollars. She’d used part of it to buy this schooner, the Celestial Breeze. It had taken a full year for them to build it and even longer for her to get her licence as Captain. Peter had his licence long ago and Celeste asked him to come with her to the British Virgin Islands to set up her business. Schooner cruises of the Caribbean, January to March. Peter had been the Captain the first two years until Celeste had the experience, but now she was Captain and she knew her ship well. Each year they would cruise the Caribbean, and just before hurricane season they would sail through the Panama Canal and up to British Columbia to see her folks on Vancouver Island. Maggie and Stan had always wanted to live on Vancouver Island and Celeste bought them a home there with some of her winnings.

Celeste was now twenty-seven years old and had sailed almost all the way around the world, taking Peter with her. Celeste’s sister Sandra and her husband Alonzo had also gone along for the ride. Sandra was two years younger than Celeste but she had married her high school sweetheart, Alonzo Mathias, right after college. Sandra was now the Hostess on the Celestial Breeze and her husband Alonzo was the chef, a far cry from the banker he had wanted to be, but he had a flair for food, and he did all of Celeste’s accounting to keep his hand in.

Celeste had always been a pretty child, but now she was a stunning woman. Her long legs gave her the appearance of being much taller than five foot eight; and her once long dark hair was now cut short. The girl was officially gone. Peter had been the one who cut her hair that day at sea. She ordered him to cut it so that none of it would hit her in the eyes and he had done as she requested. Peter was definitely no hairdresser and he insisted that she get it done properly when they got back to port, which she did, six weeks later. It wasn’t unusual for them to be at sea that long. Celeste loved the ocean, but Peter always thought that it wasn’t just her love for the sea; it was as though she was looking for something. He hoped he’d be around long enough to see her find it.

Celeste handed him his plate and sat in the adjoining camp chair. Even in the dark, with only the deck lights, she was stunning. Never one for make-up, she didn’t need it. Her skin was beautifully tanned from the Caribbean sun, and make-up, he decided, would only take away from her beauty. She should have a man by now, not some old, bald sailor as a friend, he thought.

Why are you looking at me like that? Celeste asked through a mouthful of fish and rice.

Like what? He put a forkful of fish into his mouth and looked out over the starboard rail and started to chew.

You’re giving me that ‘she needs a man’ look again, she chided.

I was not. Peter looked her in the eye and then at the deck, okay, okay, I was. But is there anything wrong with me wanting to see you happy, Celeste?

Ug, I’ve told you a thousand times, I AM happy. She took her