He got dressed very fast that morning. He tidied his dark locks up in front of a mirror whose borders were oxidized, then he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. The scar on his left cheek got thinner till it became quite an invisible line. Some black and dirty spots had appeared on his teeth: he put a finger into a small basin next to him and brushed them with force.
When he had finished, he went down the stairs like his mother had done just a moment before; he believed he would find her on the landing coinciding with the back of the Pàssaro do mar, doing the tiding up. She was there in fact. She was singing a song. He greeted her quickly; Bartolomeus voice called her after a while.
Anne, come here, he said, in his strange Portuguese accent. Even if he was a very odd man, he was the only one who had offered her a place where to live and something similar to a job. He had also tried hard to convince Bennet Avery to hire an apprentice at his workshop.
Johnny opened the door and ran into the alley stretching outside the inn, getting deep into Port Royals frantic life.
***
A crowd was assembled in the streets. They were walking among the junk stalks of sellers or they were chatting lively under the house windows. There were every kind of people, from prostitutes blinking in front of the inns, to the sea wolves guffawing between them, to the British navy soldiers pushing carelessly every people coming in front of them.
Wiping his forehead beaded with sweat, Johnny turned into a side street getting down to the port. In that way he would avoid the messy crowd of the people going to the market. He had just to get over the ancient Spanish area, then
Damn it!, he thought. He bit his lips without realizing it.
Alejandro Naranjo Blanco was the last person he wished to meet. He had made up a gang with some other boys, tormenting everyone passing through that area. They didnt look favourably on anyone. The English people above all. That was because Port Royal had been a Spanish fortress before the British conquest.
Their frictions had started when a sword had been ordered to Avery. He was a very good carpenter, but also a very capable and known blacksmith. He had appointed Johnny to deliver it and the boy had entered into the Spanish area, without even thinking about it. Alejandros gang had immediately assaulted him. The boy had tried to defend himself, but Alejandro had jumped on him, taking out a knife and leaving a memory of their meeting on his left cheek.
When he stopped in the middle of the street, Johnny felt again the burning sensation of liquid warmth he had had soon after the cut. He touched his scar, starting from the cheekbone and going down to his lips. He could hear his mother then: This place is dangerous, thats why I keep worrying about you! And are you fighting against people of your age, now?
Shut up, he muttered to himself.
Who are you talking to, amigo? Alejandro was waiting for him a few steps behind. He hadnt entered the area yet and the boy had already found him.
Let me go, gordo, Johnny replied. He knew that calling Alejandro a fat boy wasnt a good idea.
Yet just meeting him made his blood boil into his veins. This is not your neighbourhood yet. I can come back from where I came from and take another way.
Of course. The Spanish boy didnt seem to react to the offense. But you were always getting through this area.
Are you looking for a pretext to quarrel?
Maybe.
Johnny moved forward cautiously. Thats just what I dislike about you. Dont provoke me.
Alejandros smile widened into a much deeper line, parting his fatty face in two.
How is your father?, he asked.
Johnnys feet refused to go on. He clenched his fists. That bastard knew exactly where to hit.
Have they searched into any sharks stomach?, he went on. Or he might have run away with a bitch he met anywhere. He had perhaps got bored of your mother. And of you. What do you think about it, pendejo?
He wished he could jump on him and settle the question all at once. But he forced every nerve of his body to let go.
Ill tell you again for the last time, he cut it short. I dont feel like
He could hardly finish the sentence. Something flew next to him. It was a stone. He turned his eyes behind his shoulders, even if his brain answered faster. Taking him by surprise had been just an excuse to let the other members of the gang catch him on the wrong foot. Johnny saw three guys running to him.
Im ready this time. His voice revealed a certain amount of confidence, as Alejandro changed his expression. His smile had turned into a grimace of gloomy hesitation. He then took out a flat-top knife, reminding a bit a barbers razor.
One of the boys tried to hit him with a stick. Johnny heard it hissing near his ears. The boy tried to come close to him, wanting to make a lunge. He couldnt. His rival was punching faster and faster. Suddenly Alejandro pushed him from behind, making him hit the boy who had attacked him first.
Hijo de puta!, the boy shouted and hit him with his elbow on the face.
Johnny wasnt surprised. He instinctively plunged the sword into the thigh. The boy fell to the ground, writhing in pain. Alejandro on his side started attacking him again: he took out the knife and tried to hurt him. He was aware of that and could move away just in time. The stroke hit the boy who had thrown the stone, hurting his shoulder. The two guys started to insult each other at once, giving up the fight. The last member of the gang kept looking at them apart, as if stupefied.
And then Johnny suddenly understood.
The time of revenge had come.
Ill return the favour, gordo, he sentenced and hurt the Spanish boy in his eyebrow. He saw a stream of blood dripping from his eye, dimming his sight. He decided to take advantage of it and beat a retreat.
He turned on his heels and rushed to the direction he had come from, leaving behind him the very rancorous shouts of his aggressors.
***
Im late, he apologized, opening the shop door suddenly. He was panting, his chest was dancing under his clothes. The elbow stroke he had got gave him a strange nose accent.
I know, Avery agreed. He was sitting on a stool, in a shadowy corner. Puffs of light blue smoke where coming out of the pipe sloping three quarters from his lips. They whirled sleepily to the ceiling planks, where they lay stagnant in a dim cloud. The wrinkled face didnt show any kind of feeling. He got up slowly and passed by the stone arch dividing the shop into two separate areas. He got to the forge. He started observing the anvil absent-mindedly.
It looked as if he hadnt seen it before.
Let me explain, Johnny tried to say.
Avery moved with an incredible dart for a man of his age. He stretched his wrinkled hand and caught the boys forearm, grasping him tight. I dont know what to do with you! Splashes of saliva were spurting from his toothless mouth. You are always late and you go home when you like. Youre an irresponsible! I wouldnt have hired you if Bartolomeu hadnt asked me. He then changed expression. What happened to you?
Johnny hesitated. He saw an indefinite sense of bewilderment into his interlocutors blazing eyes. Or was it mercy? He would rather get his usual scolding than discuss about his meeting with Alejandro.
Johnny hesitated. He saw an indefinite sense of bewilderment into his interlocutors blazing eyes. Or was it mercy? He would rather get his usual scolding than discuss about his meeting with Alejandro.
Its not your business, old man, he addressed him.
Averys wrinkled face seemed to relax. He let him go and scratched his bald head, crossed by just two wisps of grey hair on his ears.
It was the fat Spanish, wasnt it?, he asked.
The boy turned his eyes away.
Ok, Avery went on. Do as you like. You dont need adding anything else. Lets try to understand whether your nose is broken. Then well find an excuse for your mother. We could tell her you got hurt here. That woman is always worrying too much about you. Youll break her heart one day.
How do you know?, Johnny replied.
There are lots of things you dont know about me.
And that was true.
He knew almost nothing about Bennet Avery.
Some rumours depicted him as the protagonist of raids made on board the Queen Annes Revenge, pirate Blackbeards vessel. Obviously, according to the old man that was only nonsense spread to give him problems. But Johnny had still some doubts. He had often wondered if it was his fancy speaking: maybe he had better not let it so free. However, the uncertainties about the old man past had stirred his curiosity. He had heard him talk on different occasions about pieces of his life, accompanied very often by a couple of glasses of rum. Being Bartolomeus friend, he was constantly present at the Pàssaro do Mar. Nevertheless, his stories had always something which didnt fit. He even seemed to avoid some details willingly.
Come closer, Avery called him, handing a bucket of water to him, and wash yourself, to begin with.
Johnny obeyed, without uttering any single word. He placed the basin on a barrel and put his head inside. The fresh water gave him a light thrill. He held his breath for a short while. He then came out, breathing the fresh air deeply. His fingers went up unintentionally to touch the top of his nose.
So?, the old man spurred him.
The pain has decreased, Johnny answered. He could hardly believe it.
If it was broken, you would cry as the snotty kid you are. You were lucky.
Luckier than them, he replied, showing the flat-top knife. He turned it in his hands. The blade was stained with coagulated blood.
Avery stared at him with a satisfied smile. Stop boasting, boy. Try to tidy yourself up. Work is waiting for you.
***
At the very moment when Johnny was wrestling with Alejandro, captain Woodes Rogers was thoughtfully scanning the horizon from one of the windows of the governors villa. His blurred shape was reflecting on the glass like a ghosts one, his short, brown hair and his large forehead were giving him a look of solemn austerity, softened by his short height. His mouth, reduced to an almost invisible cut, showed up a feeling of uncertainty. But maybe the feature which made him look more strict was the thick cobweb of scars disfiguring the left part of his face.
He wished heartily that his meeting with Henry Morgan would be as short as possible. He had never accepted his political success willingly, especially after his lucky attack to Panama. He was jealous of him, at least. He had always said there was nothing trustworthy in a pirate who had been chasing his fellow men, just to please the royal family. Ceremonies and banquets were part of a lifestyle he wished he could have too, even if the most important thing for him was to find out why Morgan had summoned him again.
Your task is simple, he had told him during a previous meeting. You have to catch monsieur Wynne. Hes a pirate, so any other reason is useless. He wont be able to escape being hanged forever. As governor of Jamaica and spokesman of king Georges will, we are morally obliged to give this order to you. We wish you will understand.
Of course, he had thought. Damned pompous idiot.
And he was still thinking the same, when a soldier walked into the room. He stopped at the door and stood at attention.
Captain Rogers, he addressed him. His Excellency sir Henry Morgan is waiting for you.
He waved absent-mindedly to him and let himself be driven into the narrow corridor taking to the anteroom, made even narrower by the host of works of art crowding there, a clear sign of the wealth the governor liked to be surrounded with.
The execution will be held tomorrow morning, captain. The soldier had stopped in front of a door strengthened by iron bars. The governor wishes to curb piracy strongly. He hopes you will be there too.
Your hypocrisy is astonishing, Henry, Rogers wondered. You found a more decent mask to put on. You would have ended up hanged too, if your friend hadnt helped you.
Meanwhile the soldier was knocking on the planks with a resolute air. Morgans voice echoed on the other side, inviting them to come in and followed by a baritone voice which made Roger feel a new wave of scorn.
He still laughs as a pirate, he muttered to himself. He grasped the door handle and close it behind his back, leaving the soldier alone. He was immediately assailed by an intense smell of burning incense, a penetrating fragrance of dried herbs. The light was filtering through the windows and the velvet curtains were trembling in a breath of sea wind. Yet there was no sign of the governor. Neither of him nor of anyone else. He went on suspiciously till he got to a big table covered with maps.
Is there anything wrong?, Morgan suddenly asked him.
Woodes Rogers turned on his heels and feared to stumble on his feet. He was feeling terribly vulnerable. And slow. When his bewilderment vanished, he found himself facing a well-built man with a prominent belly. He had come out from a private room, wearing a showy light blue dress with large lace lapels. He was wearing on his head a long powdered wig, matching very badly with his red and bushy moustache.
Youre too nervous, captain, Morgan laughed again. In our opinion you should learn to enjoy the pleasures of life better.
Pleasures are a luxury I cant afford, Rogers replied.
Its a real pity, then.
Why have you sent for me, Your Excellency?
Morgan looked him up and down. He then stretched his face muscles, with a clearly amused air. We wish to discuss a very important matter with you. We know your inclination very well. We know you arent a man who likes wasting his time.
So we can get to the point at once, the pirate cut it short. More than twenty days ago you sent me in search for Emanuel Wynne, a cheap pirate who
Rather by chance, the governor interrupted him. He kept smiling. Finding him floating off, not far from Nassau was really providential. It turned your hunt into a rescue mission.
That was just good luck, in fact.
And is that what youre worrying about?
Absolutely, Rogers lied. He had to strive to stay easy. Henry Morgan had hit the point. He had left on board the Delicia to go hunting a pirate, but he had found him just a few miles from the port. Im trying to get the positive side of the situation. I avoided useless days of sailing. But you havent answered my question yet. Why did you send for me?