Week Three

“See, that’s the part that I’m not entirely sure about. I know he’s told me different stories that he was planning to write, in the past, but I don’t know which, if any, he’s written. Much less how much of it he’s written, or how close to publication he is. All I can tell you is that he’s taking this as a personal attack rather than how a normal person might take it.”

Brianne laughed cynically. “Please tell me that you’re joking about all of this, and that he just thinks that dating a woman with a kid is a pain, or something normal? Not something stupid like the possibility of me stealing a book that I didn’t know he was writing. This is absurd!”

Judy shook her head, “I know what you’re saying, and I’m not one hundred percent sure that this is what it is, but I’m pretty confident.”

**I don’t think I made it clear enough in Brianne’s conversation with Judy that Brianne only just told Michael what her book was about – without Brianne making this clear, how would Judy know Michael just wasn’t in a pissy mood?

Judy and Brianne finished cleaning up the dishes, and Elayne was bouncing anxiously at the door to go home. As Judy dropped them off at the house, she said, “I’d say, give hime a call and apologize, but it wasn’t you at fault. I’ll try to talk to him.”

“No, don’t do that,” Brianne said. “You were right to start out with – this is between he and I. You should have to be the go-between because he’s a stubborn – ah, I mean because he’s got his head stuck up his butt. And most importantly, I don’t want you to need to choose sides between he and I.”

Judy nodded. “Ok, just let me know if I can do anything, even if you just need company or an ear to listen. He’s my brother and I love him as much as anyone can love their brother, but trust me, I admit he has his faults. Being stubborn is definitely one of them.”

“Thanks, hun. I’ll probably give you a call tomorrow.”

Brianne waved as Judy drove away. Screw him, she thought, as she let herself and Elayne into the house.

***I’m not sure what to do with Elayne while she and Brianne are home together. I don’t want her in the scene, but I also don’t want her plopped in front of the TV the whole time – maybe ask Max what he did when he was little and not actively with his parents. Playing out in the backyard? Reading? It just feels awkward to completely drop her out of the scenes.

Elayne went into the back yard to play, and Brianne plopped in front of the television, doing something she rarely did during the day. She flipped on a mindless history channel program, and allowed herself to zone out. Normally, she felt that watching pointless television, even if it was educational, was a complete waste of time, but feeling out of sorts and annoyed was enough reason to relax the rules.

Brianne woke from her nap two hours later, by the sound of the screen door slamming as Elayne came in from playing outside. “Is there any supper, mama?” she asked.

Brianne racked her brain for something low-effort to cook that she had all the ingredients for. “You know what,” she said, “I think since you were such a well-behaved girl all day today, we’re going to do something special for supper tonight. Do you want to have a picnic in front of the television?”

Elayne nodded vigorously.

“Ok, but you’re going to have to help, ok? First go wash your hands – with soap – then you’re in charge of spreading the blanket from the back of the couch onto the floor in the living room. Do you think you can do that?”

Elayne didn’t answer – she was on her way to the bathroom to wash up.

Brianne got down to business. ‘Plain’ was one of her favorite meals as a child, and even still an occassional treat as an adult. It was, as the name indicated, very simple – crackers, sliced pepperoni or whatever kind of lunch-meat was in the house, slices of cheddar cheese, dill pickles, and some raw vegetables with dip.

She pulled out two paper plates and a cutting board, and proceeded to slice the necessary meats, cheeses, and vegetables, and pile them on the plate. It was, more or less, a balanced meal, it was inexpensive, and most importantly, it was easy. And she didn’t feel like she was capable of much more than easy.

Brianne brought both plates into the living room, and set them on the coffee table next to where Elayne was doing her best to spread out the blanket.

“You’re doing good, baby. You keep trying with that until you get it, I’m going to go get us something to drink. Would you like a little soda as a special treat?”

“Yes, please. Mama, will you please help me get this straight? It’s too big for me!”

“You try for a couple minutes more, but I’ll give you a hint – lay that side that you’re working on all out straight, then come across to this side, and pull this side straight. Then go back and fix the other side, then this side, till it’s all laid out.”

Brianne poured Elayne half a glass of Lemon-Lime soda, and herself a glass of red wine. She brought both glasses into the living room, and set them both down on coasters on the coffee table. She was pleased to see that Elayne had gotten the blanket spread out almost perfect.

“Great job!” she said. “I knew you could do it – you just have to take it one step at a time, right?”

Elayne sat in the middle of the blanket looking proud of herself.

“You push back a little, ok, I’m going to bring the table over.” Brianne moved the plates and cups to a side table, then carried the coffee table over and put it in the middle of the blanket. She moved both cups and plates back.

“What would you like to watch?” Brianne was pretty sure she knew the answer. Elayne took every opportunity she was given to watch, and re-watch ‘The Little Mermaid’.

“No, Mama, you’re sad. You pick tonight.”

“I’m not sad, baby, it’s just been a funny day. Mama got in a fight with Michael, and I’m just unhappy about that.”

“About what?” Elayne asked.

“Silly stuff – Michael is writing a book about Pirate Club, too, and he thinks that I stole his idea.”

“You shouldn’t steal, mama.”

“I know, baby, but I didn’t steal.”

“Did you ask before you taked it?”

“No, but I didn’t know I was supposed to. I didn’t know it was his idea. It’s not his idea! I should no more have to ask his permission that I should Robert Louis Stevenson’s.”

“Mama,” Elayne sighed a sigh that sounded amazingly similar to a tired, long-suffering adult. Brianne wondered if she had made that sound a few too many times in the past. “You should say you’re sorry. Then you should share. Now we should watch the movie. And eat!”

“Ok, baby. So what should we watch? The Little Mermaid?”

Elayne shook her head. “Let’s watch Sleeping Beauty instead, ok?”

Sleeping Beauty was Brianne’s favorite Disney movie. Between the beautiful animation, and the romantic plot, she got caught up in it every time. It was nice of Elayne to agree to watch that one, because Brianne had never cared as much for the mermaid who was deceitful in order to give up all she knew and loved for a man. She supposed it reminded her too much of herself.

After the movie ended, Brianne left Elayne laying on the couch reading, and she set up her lap toptop on the coffee table to write. One again, it was hard to focus on the story itself, especially since she was feeling bad about writing it, but this time her anger helped her to concentrate. Screw him, she thought again. Her book would be first, and better, and she’d become the next JK Rowling and make millions. And she wouldn’t feel bad about it. Decisive head-nod. Brianne laughed at herself, sitting there being stubborn to nobody.

She continued writing until the early hours of the morning, and put Elayne and herself to bed. It’d be tough getting up to take Elayne to school, but she could always nap in the afternoon.


Judy picked Brianne up for her first ‘Writing Club’ meeting before dinner. Judy’s son Alex was babysitting Elayne for the evening, so they were going to do a dinner beforehand.

“Let’s just talk about girl stuff,” Judy started out by saying. “No writing, no reading, no mom-ing, and most importantly, no Michael.”

Brianne agreed. It had been a long time since she was just able to sit back and talk silliness. It was initially a struggle for both of them, but after two glasses of wine, relaxing and talking crap was easier.

Before long, dinner was over and they left to travel to the writing club. Brianne had brought an copy of wht she had written so far on “Pirate Princesses,” and Judy a copy of the mystery novel that she was in the middle of writing.

The group was gathered at a small café in the center of town. They had clustered the couches around the shoved-together coffee tables to make an optimal reading and writing surface. Someone had brought a power-strip and most of the laptops were plugged in and humming away.

***possible problem – I think they’ve jumped into their relationship a little too fast – it seems like they might need another couple days between the nightime apology scene and the barbecue-day flirtation to make it seem natural that they’re this comfortable with one another.


They spent the first half hour of the meeting writing away at whatever they were working on. Brianne was shocked to find that she wrote more during that half hour than a whole day working at home most days.

There were about fifteen people at the meeting, some that Brianne had met at the Barbecue and some that she hadn’t. After the writing session ended, they spent the next half hour discussing what was working and not working in their novels, and then a half hour asking specific opinions about sections of their book – a ‘does this work’ section.

Brianne and Judy left the meeting thoroughly invigorated and ready to become the next New York Times Bestselling authors. “I wish I had had a group like that in New York,” Brianne said wistfully.

“But you had to move here for it,” Judy answered. “Now you can never leave because you have a good writing group.”

Brianne arrived home and relieved Alex from babysitting. “I hope you don’t mind, we watched The Little Mermaid, and made up a play about it that I’m sure Elayne’s going to want to show you in the morning.”

“That’s great,” Brianne assured him. “I hope you didn’t get too bored watching the movie – it’s her favorite.”

“Not at all, some of that animation is amazing. I can’t get over the fact that it was all hand-animated.”


Brianne settled down at the computer for a couple hours more writing before bed. She had just started writing the main conflict of the story, and she was excited to continue. She had decided to follow one of the tips from the meeting that another writer had shared – to wear headphones while she was writing just to help her from getting distracted by unrelated noises.

Michael rang the doorbell three times before Brianne answered it. “I’m sorry, I was listening to [Classical Music with Bells] and it took a second for me to realize that it was actually the doorbell ringing.”

It took Michael a minute of standing in the doorway, not saying anything, to realize that Brianne had no intention of inviting him in. “Can I come in,” he finally asked.

“Can’t you just say what you need to say from there?” she asked.

“I can, but I’m not sure you want to advertise to the whole neighborhood that I’m here at—“ he looked at his watch, “twelve-thirty at night. So you might want to let me in rather than having to explain to everyone…”

“Fine, fine, come in.” Brianne ushed him into the living room. Michael took a seat on the couch, but rather than sitting on the couch next to him, Brianne pulled a chair from the kitchen, and sat across the room.

“That was a lot of effort, considering that I don’t bite –or smell, as far as I’m aware.”

Brianne shrugged.

“Look, I didn’t mean to come off as such a jerk. I guess I didn’t think that leaving you at Judy’s like that was such a big deal. I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m sorry would be a good start,” Brianne answered acidically.

“I just said that I didn’t mean to be a jerk. I don’t know what more you want.”

“Look. You were a jerk, whether you meant to be or not. Until you can apologize for acting like a jerk, and let me know what prompted you to act like a jerk, I don’t really want to talk to you.”

“God, Brianne. Do you want me to beg?”

“No, I just want you to say you’re sorry,” she answered. Brianne covered her face with her hands, trying to regain control of herself.

“Fine, I’m sorry. Does that make you feel better?”

“If you weren’t acting like I was quite so unreasonable for insisting that you apologize, then yes it would make me feel better. However, since your tone of voice, the expression on your face when you said it, and your body language say that you think I’m just being a bitch—making you jump through hoops before I forgive you.”

“Well aren’t you?” Michael regretted saying it as soon as it came out of his mouth.

“You can leave any time now,” she said. Brianne walked over to the door, and held it open for him.

“No, you can’t just kick me out like this. I came over to apologize for coming off as a jerk. I didn’t mean to. Now, yes, you’re acting unreasonably by insisting that I apologize using exactly the words that you think are appropriate.”

“I can too kick you out. This is my house, and I can tell you to leave whenever I want to. Now please go.”

“Brianne, could you please just give me five minutes to say what I came over here to say, without you interupting me or correcting what I’m saying to what you think I should be saying?”

“Fine.” She slammed the front door closed, and plopped onto her kitchen chair. “Speak.”

Michael resisted the urge to argue that he wasn’t a dog, to talk on command. “I apologize for leaving you and Elayne at Judy’s. It wasn’t a nice thing to do, but you weren’t ready to leave when I was. I also should not have snapped at you as we got out of the car that day. My only excuse is that you shocked me when you told me what your novel was about – I don’t like it when people write about Pirate Club because publicity will only ruin it.”

Brianne rolled her eyes. “Listen to yourself – “I apologize, but it was your fault because you weren’t ready to leave when I was. The excuse for what I did is… Thanks but no thanks. Until you can apologize like an adult, without blaming me for your acting like a jackass, then don’t come over here again.”

Michael shrugged. “Your loss, then,” he said as he stormed out the door.


Brianne poured herself a glass of red wine, and drank it slowly as she re-read what she had written the hour before. It wasn’t bad, she thought. It would definitely need revising, but Judy had agreed to help with that part.

It was better that Michael was gone – he was only a distraction anyway, and she and Elayne had always been fine on their own. And just look at Judy and Alex – she had always been a single mom, and Alex had turned out wonderful – going to a good school, visiting at all the appropriate holidays, and Judy even thought that Alex might have a serious girlfriend.

Brianne resumed writing, and wrote all night, until Elayne’s alarm clock when off for school. She slogged around helping her daughter get ready, then after sending Elayne off on the school bus, Brianne collapsed into her own bed to grab a couple of hours sleep before starting another day’s writing.

Brianne slept fitfully for two hours, then dragged herself out of bed. She hadn’t been planning to stay up writing the whole previous night, but between she and Michael’s fight, and how well things were going with the story, she was glad she had. Another few nights like that and the whole first draft would be complete. It wasn’t all great, but at least the rough ideas were out there.

A world-record length shower later, Brianne felt alive enough to make a pot of coffee and start her day. She fixed herself a cup and stepped out onto the front porch to enjoy the mid-morning before she pulled out the lap-top again.

She was startled to see Michael sitting halfway down her front steps. “Can I help you with something,” she asked, coldly.

Michael turned quickly. Brianne was cruelly pleased that she had startled him.

“I was just trying to figure out what to say to you,” he answered truthfully. “I haven’t been able to sleep, and I don’t know what you want me to say, to be honest.”

Brianne took a deep breath and sat down on the step next to him. “I don’t want you to say anything that you don’t want to say. But at the same time, I need you to realize the same things that you try to make the kids in Pirate Club understand. Personal Responsibility. Whether to meant to be mean or not, you were. And I feel like you should apologize for that, not just tell me that you didn’t mean to do it.”

Michael had the good sense to look abashed. “I guess you’re right, that’s what I was doing, wasn’t I?”

Brianne nodded, and continued to sit quietly.

“I’m sorry. Can you please try to forgive me, not only for snapping at you and abandoning you when I had talked you into riding with me to start with, but also for not listening to you when you tried telling me what I was doing last night?”

“Of course,” Brianne said. “Will you tell me what was bothering you that day? I think, and Judy agrees with me, that it was the plot of my novel that upset you. Is that true?”

“Yes,” Michael answered quietly. “I know it’s stupid, and I know it makes no sense, but I’ve been writing a novel about Pirate Club for the past six years. I’ve been trying to get an agent for it, but it’s not going well, plus I’m just so used to saying ‘no’ to interviews, articles, or anything else related to Pirate Club. I was jealous that your novel seems to be going well, I was worried that maybe your novel would be published and mine wouldn’t even though Pirate Club was my idea to start with, and I was concerned that maybe you would show Pirate Club badly. I know all those things are stupid, and no excuse for being a jerk, but those were the thoughts going through my mind.”

Brianne gently reached out for Michael’s hand. “I don’t think my novel and yours will have much in common, to be honest. Mine is very fictional, very loosely related, and more focused on the girls than the club. I don’t think I showed it badly, but you’re more than welcome to read it before I submit it to anyone, and suggest any changes that you might make it appear better than I’ve written it.”

Michael nodded. “I’d appreciate that. And I wonder – I hesitate now even to ask, after being such a jerk – but would you mind reading mine, and letting me know what you think?”

“Of course,” Brianne said. “But can it wait just one week? I’m almost finished my rough draft, and I want to get everything out before I read anything else –especially anything else about Pirate Club.”


Michael and Brianne sat on the porch for a while enjoying their coffee, idly talking. It was a beautiful morning, the sun had risen high and clear, and it was warmer than usual for early November.

Brianne finally shoed him away with promises to meet up for lunch in a few hours. She wanted to get some writing in before the day was over. She sat down to write, and to her surprise things flowed as well as they did the night before. Maybe Michael wasn’t such a distraction after all.

They met at a small coffee shop in the middle of town for lunch. Michael had secured a table, and Brianne ordered sandwiches. Lunch was a leisurely affair, the conversation was the sort of uncomfortable walking on eggs after a fight type. Finally, Brianne steered the conversation toward the evening’s Pirate Club excursion.

“Tonight’s the first real test for my new first mate,” he said.

At Brianne’s confused expression, he further explained, “He’s got the clue, but rather than being something that someone would just know, it’s going to take some real puzzle solving strategy.”


Evan had never hated anyone more than Captain Michael Davis. He had just wanted to get his favorite little boy-toy in the first mate’s position – so he forced Evan to fail at that adventure.

His mother had grounded him for two weeks when she found out that he quit the club. “You’re never going to amount to anything if you keep this up,” her voice echoed in his mind. Well he’d show her, and Michael too.

Evan shuffled a little more dirt over top of the string he was using as a detonator. Michael thought he was so smart, hiding the ‘treasure’ in the same cave that he’d hidden it the night Evan was kicked out of Pirate Club. He refused to think of it as quit – he couldn’t honestly be expected to stay in a demoted position – Michael wasn’t giving him any of the respect that he deserved.

He hummed to himself, ‘yo ho ho, and a bottle of rum,’ as he set the charge of gunpowder that he was planning to use as the first explosion. It should be enough to keep everyone back, and if anyone was stupid enough to keep going on after that, they deserved what they got.

Screw them all. He was smarter than all of them anyway, and tonight was only going to prove it. They wouldn’t be able to have Pirate Club without a ship, now would they?


Brianne explained to Elayne that Judy was going to drop her off and pick her up from that evening’s Pirate Club – because Mama had a meeting at school, she said. The truth was, Brianne was so tired from not sleeping the night before that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to sneak on and off the ship undetected. It was easier to ask Judy to sit for Elayne a little before and after the ‘adventure’ to give Brianne time to truly hide herself on the ship, and then wait until all of the children had left for the evening to drive home.

***possibly put one week between Evan bombing the ship, and Brianne leaving Elayne with Judy….

Brianne boarded the ship, and again secured herself in the closet just off the Captain’s cabin. This time she was smart enough to have brought both her laptop and a novel to read once the laptop’s battery wore down.

She sat on the floor of the closet, her laptop propped up on her knees, writing until she heard footsteps above indicating that the crew had boarded. Based on what Michael had told her earlier, it should be an interesting voyage. This clue, at least, would determine if Travis had the same fatal flaw as Evan, his predessessor.

Brianne wrote through the ship’s launch, until she heard the pre-determined tapping at the closet door. She saved and shut down her laptop, and cautiously opened the closet door. A sudden jerk of the ship caused her to come falling out, missing Michael completely and landing in an ignominious heap across the cabin. “I think your pilot is missing some crucial steering skill – like smoothness,” she said, laughing.

Michael helped her to her feet, and Brianne tried to maintain her balance as the ship jerked again. Unfortunately, a third jerk sent her flying again, this time straight into the leg of the captain’s desk.

“Are you ok?” Michael asked, trying to help her to her feet again.

“I hurt my ankle,” Brianne said, rubbing it.

Michael touched it gently, pulling back as Brianne winced. “I’m sorry it hurts, but I have to see if it’s broken or just sprained.”

Brianne’s fingernails scraped the deck, as she tried to do anything to keep from screaming as Michael flexed the ankle, and made it move in a circle. “I don’t think it’s broken,” he said. “If I get you an icepack, do you think you’ll be ok on the daybed here for an hour or so? Or do you think you need to go to a doctor immediately?”

“I’ll be fine with an icepack, but I think you might need to help me home afterwards – I don’t think I can get to my car by myself, much less drive.”

Michael set Brianne up on the daybed with an icepack, some asprin, and a bottle of wine. “Don’t worry about hiding or anything, I’m just going to lock the cabin from the outside so that I’m the only one who can get in here.”

Brianne felt an irrational surge of panic as she heard the tumblers turn in the door as Michael locked it. She was doing okay with the icepack, asprin, and wine, but she didn’t like being left alone and helpless in the cabin either. Especially when she couldn’t move around by herself.

After a few minutes of contemplating her pain and the general suckiness of her situation, Brianne decided that the time could be spent much more constructively. Unfortunately, Michael hadn’t thought to grab her novel from where it had fallen across the cabin.

Brianne stretched and scooted herself to the edge of the bed, and tried to leverage herself up to standing using the back of a chair. Unfortunately, putting any weight at all on her bad foot caused pains to shoot up the entire length of her leg.

One step, two steps, Brianne inched closer to the novel using the chair as a crutch. Finally she reached it. Bending over to pick it up, the ship jerked once again, and Brianne screached in pain as she, once again, slammed into the Captain’s desk.

Michael found her a couple minutes later, sobbing in pain, curled in a ball on the floor. Without saying a word, he lifted Brianne into his arms and set her gently back onto the daybed. “What were you doing,” he asked after her crying ceased.

“I wanted to get my book, and it was on the floor where I fell the first time. I was so careful walking to get it, but when I bent over to pick it up, the ship swerved again. And I fell. And it hurt. And it still hurts.”

Michael again examined Brianne’s ankle to make sure it wasn’t broken. “I think you’re still ok,” he said. “I have to go back up on deck for a little while, but do not leave this bed again. Read if you have to. Even better, try to sleep, I can tell you didn’t get much of it last night. But don’t leave the bed again.”

Brianne read for a little bit, and dozed on and off, until she heard Michael’s key turning in the lock. “The crew just disembarked to get the treasure, Travers got it on the first time,” he said proudly. “We’ve got about a half hour for them to get it from the cave, and load it before we shove off. Then there’s… oh, another hour or so between sailing home, unloading it, and sending the crew home. Do you think you’ll be ok?”

Brianne nodded wanly. “Can I have some more asprin? My foot is throbbing so badly.”

Michael gave her two more pills, accompanied with a glass of red wine. “Normally I don’t think you should mix pills and alcohol, but I think this time it’ll help more than hurt.”

Brianne was just sipping the glass of wine to take the pills when the ship jerked yet again, pouring red wine down the front of her. “Can this day possibly get any worse?” she asked rhetorically. “Not only do I have to make up a story for Elayne about how I hurt my ankle, but now I have to explain how I poured red wine all over myself. Wonderful.”

***not sure what role Evan is going to play – I think it would be better for him to mess with the steering of the ship rather than somehow blowing it all up, so that’s what I’m going to work off of from here….

Michael rummaged through the closet where Brianne had been hiding, and pulled out a frilly white blouse. “It’ll probably be large on you, but it’s clean and it’s dry.” He also pulled out a navy-style blue sweater. “And you can put this overtop so that you can’t tell how big the blouse is on you.” He tossed both to Brianne on the couch. “Just don’t get up to change,” he warned.

Brianne caught the clothes, and said “Aye Aye, Captain.”

Michael smirked. “I’m going to go see what’s going on with the steering. XXX isn’t that bad a pilot, so either he’s messing around or there’s something more seriously wrong.”

Brianne nodded wanly. “I’ll be right here,” she said.

The fore area of the deck, where the steering wheel was located was a mess. XXX was still holding the steering wheel, but Travis, YYYY, and ZZZZ were clustered around him, trying to give her advice.

XXX turned to Michael in relief. “I’m sorry, Captain. I’m not doing it on purpose, but I can’t seem to make her steer straight anymore. I can’t tell what’s wrong, though.”

Michael took the wheel. It didn’t exactly play loose in his hands, but he could tell that something wasn’t right. “Take the wheel back,” he ordered him. “I’m going to go see what the problem looks like. The best you can, head in that direction,” he nodded across the lake toward the dock. “But don’t even try to dock her, we’ll have to take the rowboats in.”

Michael headed below to where the steering wheel directly controlled the rudder. He traced each line from where it attached to the steering to where it should attach to the rudder. Each seemed to be intact. Then he counted. And counted again. There was the problem – there was one missing.

Michael examined the area where the rope should have been. It had been cut cleanly at the top and bottom of where it should have attached. And it must have been done while the crew was on shore and Michael was talking to Brianne, because they had gotten out here alright.

He emerged back on the deck. “All hands on deck,” he commanded his first mate. Travis started shouting toward each grouping of crewman, “All hands on deck, all hands on deck,”

It took a record amount of time for the entire crew to be gathered in ranks on the deck. Michael made a mental note to practice over the next few voyages. “So someone cut the far left steering while you all should have been on-shore. So who didn’t go?”

The crew all spoke up at once, defending themselves and everyone else. It went on for a second before Michael realized that they weren’t going to quiet down. He looked expectantly at Travers, who shrugged.

Michael suddenly let out a whistle, startling the whole group of them. “That’s your job,” he said quietly to Travers.

Travers shrugged, “I can’t whistle,” he said back quietly.

“I guess that’d explain it,” Michael said.

“All right, one at a time,” Travers said. “Start at the highest rank and work downwards.”

[Second Mate] said, “I steered boat number three. It carried myself, Johnson, Everett, Somers, Michaels, and Deveraux.”

[Third Mate] said, “I steered boat number one. It carried myself, Travers, Bethel, Smith, ZZZ, and YYY.”

[ XXX] said, “I steered boat number two. It carried myself, King, Congers, and the three girls.”

[Bo’Sun] said, “I steered boat number four. It carred myself, Burley, Lumb, Shaver, Wilson, Savage, and Travison.

Michael interupted. “Can everyone named verify the presence of everyone else on their boat?”

Everyone nodded solemnly.

“Did anyone see anyone come back to the ship while you were retreiving the treasure?”

[Little kid] raised his hand. “Captain, I didn’t see anyone but the bushes by the cave where the treasure was stored were all crushed down and broken, like someone had been hiding there. And when we landed, I saw a little rowboat on the other side of the bay, pulled up in the trees.”

Travers turned to him. “Why didn’t you say anything at the time? Why didn’t you tell us that you noticed the boat?”

The boy shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important, I just thought it was one of the other boys who lives around here’s boat.”

Travers pounced. “What’s your job, sailor?”

“Cabin boy, sir.”

“And is it a cabin boy’s job to analyze what’s important and what’s not?”

“No sir. That’s the first mate’s job, sir.”

Michael broke in. “During most cases, you’d be right, Travers. However in this case, [boy] was the only one who noticed the rowboat. In which case, even if he decided on his onw that it wasn’t important, he did notice it and mention it when asked about it later. I don’t see that he did anything wrong.”

Travers looked abashed. “I guess you’re right, Captain. I apologize, [boy], you did exactly as you could be expected to have done.”

Michael asked, “Well, since everyone onboard has an alibi, let’s get this ship to shore and see if we can find out who else might have come onboard while you all were treasure hunting.”

Michael returned to the ‘fore’ deck to discover the pilot in a panic. “I think the rope for the anchor may have been cut, sir,” XXX said. “I didn’t notice anything wrong when I lowered it, but it broke while we were in the meeting below. I don’t know how we’re going to stop the ship even long enough to lower the boats.”

XXX looked almost ill. “I know it looks like I did it, sir, but I didn’t. Truly!”

“No, no, you’re no more a suspect than anyone else,” Michael assured him. “We’ll just have to use the spare anchor. I’ll get it fromd own below. Just contine sailing toward the dock. We’ll get it straightened out.”

Michael quickly decended the steps into the storage lockers. If it had been less of an emergency, he would have sent one of the cabin boys and girls down to retrieve it –it definitely would have been an exercise of their inguinity to figure out how to get the anchor that weighed comparable to them up the stairs and onto the deck. In this case, it was too much of a hurry not to retrieve it himself.

Michael rummaged through the storage locker where he knew he had last seen the spare anchor. It wasn’t there. “Travers,” he shouted.

Travers clomped down the stairs, saluted, and said, “What can I do for you, Captain?”

“Did you move the spare anchor,” he asked.

“No, it was in the storage chest over there when we set sail. I know I checked it off on my pre-sail checklist.”

Michael shook his head. “It’s not there, I just checked.”

“But it was definitely there,” Travis disagreed. “I know. I saw it.”

“No, no, I’m not saying it wasn’t there when you checked before you set sail. I’m saying it’s not there now.”

Travis opened the storage chest, and threw things out of it like a crazy man. “It’s not there, anymore,” he said with dismay. “Should I call the crew to attention, again?” he asked.

“No,” Michael answered calmly. “I think this may be the work of the person who’s rowboat [boy] saw on shore, rather than any of the current ship’s crew.”


Michael and Travers roped together a case of the wine ‘treasure’ that they had recovered. “I suppose we should consider this an offer to the sea god,” Michael said wistfully.

Travers shrugged. Too fanciful for him, really.

Together they heaved the roped case off the ship, and watched the rope pull taught. The ship slowed, and pulled left toward the makeshift anchor. Michael prayed that the case wouldn’t shatter until everyone was off the ship.

Travers gathered the entire crew. “Everyone off, double time, abandon ship!” he yelled. The crew piled into the boats, not in a panicked state, but definitely quicker than usual. As the boats released one by one into the lake, only Travers, [second mate], Michael, and unbeknownst to the other two, Brianne were still on the ship.

XXX had been ordered to retrieve the extra anchor from the dock, and row it back out to them. It was just a question of how long it would take to row to shore and back.

“Stand watch aboveboard,” Michael ordered Travers and [second mate]. “If you see the ‘anchor’ start to slip, call quickly, and hopefully we can drop another before it shatters completely. I’ll be down in my cabin for a few minutes.”

The two boys agreed. They stood leaning against the mast, one with an eye on the anchor line, and the other looking out for XXX’s boat carrying a replacement anchor.

Michael tapped lightly on the Captain’s cabin door, then unlocked it. Brianne had changed into the blouse and sweater that Michael had given her, and laid her stained shirt out over the end of the daybed.

She had come awake when she heard Michael’s tap and then the key turning in the lock. She winced in pain as she propped herself up on her elbows to look at him.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “I heard the shouting before.”

“The ships’ steering was tampered with, which is why you were flung around like that before. And it seems that someone cut through our anchor rope, and stole our extra anchor, as well. So right now, we’re being held generally in place with a crate of semi-expensive wine, until my pilot can get back to the ship with a real anchor.”

Brianne looked confused. “Are we safe here, like this?”

Michael nodded. “We’re safe enough, we just can’t dock without full steering, and we can’t leave the ship here so that I can repair the steering without an anchor. Whoever messed with the ship definitely knew how best to annoy me.

How are you doing?”

Brianne’s skin was excessively pale, almost yellowish. She had obviously been sweating because her hair was damp and curly as it framed her face. “I’m doing,” she answered. “The asprin helped the pain a little, and the wine helped me fall asleep. Or it could just be that the aprin helped the pain, and not sleeping last night helped me fall asleep.”

“You’re not looking good,” Michael said, sounding worried.

“Thanks. I needed to hear that. You might as well tell me that you think I’m a shallow, unintelligent person while you’re at it, just to round out the circuit of complements.”

Michael laughed. “Well, you haven’ tlost your sense of humor, so you can’t be that badly off, right?”

Brianne smiled. “Right. No, I’m really mostly ok. It hurts, but I’ve been hurt worse. I do think a doctor’s trip might be in order after we get off the ship, though, ok?”

Michael rubbed her forhead. “No problem. Can I get you some more asprin, or wine?”

“Another glass of wine would be nice,” Brianne answered. She tried to prop herself up at a better angle to drink, and winced sharply as her ankle banged against the side of the bed.

“Don’t do that, I bet it hurts,” Michael said sarcastically.

“Too late,” Brianne answered. “And it did.”

Brianne cautiously sipped at her glass of wine. She hadn’t forgotten the [x] rule – everything that can go wrong, will go wrong. And since it seemed like her evening was taking that kind of route, she’d be more careful.

As she took another sip, the ship jerked forward and sideways a little. She proudly clutched her glass, happy she didn’t spill on herself. As she tried to take another sip, the ship jerked further and harder, and the entire glass wound up on her face and down her shirt.

“Staying clean tonight isn’t meant to be, is it?” she asked.

Michael tossed her a towel to dry off the worst, and again raided the closet. “I’m sorry, this is all I have left in there.” He held up a bathrobe. “I don’t know if you want it, or…” he shrugged.

“Help me up?” Brianne asked.

Michael propped her up.

Brianne leaned heavily against him as she took off the drenched sweater. She tossed it onto the floor next to the bed. The shirt underneath was obviously three times too big for her, the open neckline displaying her pink lace bra. She clutched it closed, as she examined the shirt to see how wine-soaked it was.

Fortunately, only the right shoulder area was drenched. Brianne daubed at it with the towel, drying it as best she could. “Will you hel p me put the bathrobe on?” she asked Michael.

Michael opened the folded robe, and helped Brianne fit her left arm, then her right, into the sleeves. As he helped her to lay back down on the daybed without putting pressure onto her ankle, the open robe pulled the shirt open, displaying Brianne’s decolletage nearly down to her belly button.

Brianne watched Michael carefully, entertained by his reaction. He hadn’t breathed and his eyes hadn’t moved from her cleavage since her shirt came open. It was odd that she didn’t feel more self-conscious – no one had seen any part of her body since Jeremy.

After a long time, Michael’s eyes finally traveled from Brianne’s pink lace covered breasts to her eyes. She was surprised to see that he was blushing, apparently he realized that he must have been caught staring.

It was a second after they made eye contact before Brianne pulled his head down to kiss her. Michael did his best to keep control of himself, not to hurt her, not to go too far, but Brianne pulled him onward, closer, tongues entangling.

The ship jerked again, and Michael was forced full on top of Brianne. He kissed her deeper, his fingers gently tracing the lace outline of her bra.

“Captain,” her heard a boy’s voice calling, breaking his trance. Michael pulled back quickly, but when he realized that Travers was calling from the deck, he took a second to kiss Brianne again, gently, on the forehead, the tip of her nose, her lips. He then straightened her shirt and robe, lightly brushing the top of her breasts with the backs of his fingers as he did so.

Brianne smiled at Michael, as he blew her a kiss from the door to the cabin, and again locked her in. She was shocked that she’d let him kiss her like that, and even more surprised that she didn’t regret it in the least.


“What’s up?” Michael asked Travis and [second mate].

“The crate is slipping,” Travis answered. “I’ve rigged up the second crate, just in case, but we can see XXX’s boat, so we’re hoping that we won’t need it. We just wanted to make sure that you were aware of the situation.”

“Good job, men, very good job.” Michael gauged the distance between LeChuck’s Revenge and XXX’s boat that was paddling away steadily toward them. “Unless the ship really starts slipping, I don’t think we’ll need to toss in the second crate of wine. Knock on wood.” Michael matched gesture to words.

When the spare anchor had finally been loaded onto the ship, and the rope attaching the ship to the case of wine was cut, Michael breathed a sigh of relief, and rubbed at his shoulders and the back of his neck. He had been quietly afraid that even all of the cases of wine wouldn’t be enough to hold them while XXX retrieved the anchor.

Michael helped Travers and [second mate] into the boat with XXX. “Give me a call on my cell phone, boys, when you get back to land. I don’t want to be worrying about you all night.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be all right here by yourself, Captain? No insult intended, of course,” [second mate] asked.

“I’ll be fine. I just don’t want to leave her completely alone and undocked all night. I’ve got plenty of wine, though,” Michael said gesturing at the remaining cases. “Thank God.”

The boys laughed, and set sail. Soon enough, Michael got a call on his cell phone alerting him to their arrival back at the dock. He heaved a sigh of relief about at least one thing going right over the course of the evening – he had completely expected the boys boat to spring a leak between the ship and the dock, or who knew what else.

Michael unlocked the Captain’s Cabin. Brianne was sleeping on the couch, the icepack had falled to the floor. She looked like she might be running a fever, she was flushed, and her hair was so damp it was sticking to her face. Michael kissed her face gently. Definitely a fever.

“Brianne,” he said softly, rubbing her hair to wake her.

She woke with a start, moaning in pain as she tried to push herself into a sitting position. “What’s going on?” she asked, groggily.

“You don’t look like you’re doing so good,” Michael said. “How do you feel?”

“Not good,” Brianne agreed. “My foot hurts worse, and I’m feeling sick.”

“If I carry you,” Michael asked, “Do you think it’ll hurt too much if I take you in by rowboat? You can sit in the middle, so your foot will be a little elevated. With the steering to the ship out, I don’t know how much closer I’m going to be able to get to the dock without hitting any rocks and making our problems worse.”

Brianne smiled weakly. “I’ll do what I have to, but I need some more asprin first, please. And another ice pack.”

Michael carefully lowered Brianne into the row boat, setting her in the middle with a pillow against her thigh where it pressed against the seat, and another two pillows underneath her ankle to keep it elevated.

She held in a scream when he placed her ankle carefully down on the pillows, doing her best not to make Michael feel any worse. Laying in the bottom of the boat, she clenched her jaw closed, dug her nails into the wood at the bottom of the boat, and prayed for it to be over soon.

Michael left Brianne in the rowboat for a minute, as stowed all loose equipment from the decks on the stairs to the hold. He locked all the doors leading below decks, and hoped that it would be enough. Really he wouldn’t be gone for all that long, hopefully. He looked at his watch – it was midnight. Fifteen minutes to get back to the dock, another fifteen or twenty to the emergency room, a couple hours there… he should be back at the ship by first light.

As he climbed down into the rowboat, he immediately regretted worrying about LeChuck’s Revenge when Brianne’s safety and continued health were at stake. He didn’t think her ankle was broken, but he was no doctor, and add in the fact that she was obviously running a pretty high fever, she was left in not very good shape.

Michael very carefully rowed the boat to the dock. It took all his strength and carefulness to lift Brianne out of the boat without hurting her in any way. He left her lying on the end of the dock, propped up against some boxes, while Michael went to get his truck.

On his way back to the dock with the truck, Michael had a brainstorm. He pulled over next to his back porch, and ran inside the house. Quicky stripping the covers off the guest bed from the downstairs bedroom, he lugged the mattress outside and pushed it into the covered bed of his truck.


Judy knocked on the front door of the house. “Hello,” she shouted.

“I’m in the living room,” Brianne yelled back.

“Mama!” Elayne shouted, running to hug her. “What happened?”

“Oh, I just tripped and fell coming up the steps, baby. It’s just sprained, the doctor said I should be able to start using it in four or five days. ‘Til then, you’re going to have to help me out, okay?”

“I can do that!” Elayne answered proudly. “But how did you fall going up the steps?”

“I guess I must have tripped over my shoe-laces. You know how I always make sure that yours’ stay tied.”

“But Mama, you were wearing your heels last night. They don’t have shoe laces.”

“You know what, I guess I was. I don’t know how I fell.”

“And how come the Captain took you to the doctor’s?”

“Just ‘cause he was out walking, and found me, I guess.”

Brianne noticed, too late, that Judy was shaking her head vigorously. “But he said that he was with the ship all last night. How come he found you?”

“He just had to go to the hardware store, baby, to get something to fix the ship, and he heard me yelling.” She shrugged helplessly at Judy.

“Mama, lying isn’t very nice. You always tell me to tell the truth.”

“I know I do, and I am telling the truth – you should ask Captain Michael and see what he says. Do you think you could please get me a glass of water from the kitchen, now, I’m very thirsty?”

Elayne nodded, and walked toward the kitchen. She poked her head back in. “Do you want ice, mama?”

“Please,” Brianne answered.

“You’ve got a little lawyer on your hands there, I think,” Judy said laughing quietly.

“Thanks for watching her last night,” Brianne said.

“No problem. And here to think I was hoping you and Michael were shacking up when you didn’t come shortly after I picked Elayne up. But no…I had to get Michael’s call from the ER.”

“Oh well, this just made me behave myself.” She winked suggestively at Judy. “Do you know if Michael got the steering fixed on the ship so he could dock it?”

Judy nodded. “Elayne and I stopped by there first, and he had just gotten her docked. He said it looked like someone had completely removed one of the steering lines, and cut out another so that it’d snap if it was used.”

“It’s a relief that he got the ship in without any further damage, though.”

“I didn’t say that,” Judy said in a careful voice. “Apparently someone broke into the ship while you and he were gone last night. Michael said it was just luck that he’d thought to lock up the ship and stow everything away in the stairways. The entire top deck was trashed – it looked like someone had climbed aboard intent to do as much damage as possible.”

“Oh no! Michael should have been on the ship—he would have been if I hadn’t gotten hurt!”

“He said for you not to blame yourself – he thinks he knows who did it, and they’re going to be cleaning it all up. Nothing valuable was damaged, fortunately, and nothing that some elbow grease won’t either clean or repair. He also said to tell you that he’d be by later this morning.”

Brianne nodded. “Thanks for letting me know. Maybe I’ll pretend to be sleeping.” She smied to let Judy know she was teasing.

“Yeah, like that’d stop him. Once when I was little, and Mom told him to wake me up, he stood over my bed with an eyedropper, and dropped icewater onto my face.”

“That sounds like him,” Brianne said.

Elayne returned with the glass of ice water, and set down on the side table in reach of Brianne. She had also retrieved a slim paperback from her bedroom. She sat on the floor leaning against the armrest of Brianne’s chair.

“Thanks sweetheart,” Brianne said to her.

“Do you ladies need anything else for right now,” Judy asked.

At Brianne’s shaking head, she continued, “I’m going to go run some errands. I know Michael said he’d be stopping by later to check on you, and I’ll be back with some dinner for you both – how does lasagna and an italian salad sound?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Brianne said, simultaneous with Elayne’s “Mmm, that sounds good!”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. That way, when I have the nervous breakdown that the dogs and Alex may one day drive me to, you’ll feel guilty enough that you might convince Michael not to have me committed.”

Brianne smiled. “Thanks. I really appreciate it, and everything that you’ve done lately.”

Over the course of the morning, Brianne finished the articles for a couple novels that she had lined up to critique. She also did something that she didn’t remember doing since she was pregnant – she watched daytime television.

Elayne didn’t move from her position on the floor near her mother unless it was to retrieve food, drink, or entertainment. She finished all her homework, read an entire novel, and was currently playing “Pirate Barbie” by herself on the floor. Brianne was trying to get up the ambition to offer to play as well, but hadn’t quite gotten there yet.

Michael knocked briefly on the door, then let himself in. He found Brianne and Elayne sitting that way in the living room. “Elayne, would you mind leaving your mother and I to talk for a few minutes? Then if you’d like, I’ll play dolls, or a game, with you for a half hour.”

“Connect-four,” Elayne said, as she walked toward her bedroom. “Allie just showed me how to play.”

“Phew, what a relief,” Michael joked. “I was afraid I’d have to play Pirate Barbie again, and my imagination isn’t as sharp as hers is.”

“Sorry about your ship,” Brianne said quietly.

“No worries. Just some spray paint, really,” he said dismissively. “I haven’t gotten proof yet, but I think it’s my previous first mate – the kid who stormed off the night we met. It’s the type of thing that he’d do. Especially since I know for a fact that his mother grounded him when she found out that he quit.

“How are you doing?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Getting there,” Brianne said. “I’ve been icing it like the doctor said, and taking asprin when I need it. Judy said that she’s bring over dinner.”

“Oh yeah, what’s she bringing you?”

“I think she said lasagna, why?”

Michael started laughing. “Because I made a half-dozen dishes of lasagna for her to freeze last time she was sick – apparently you get the be the beneficiary of my cooking.”

“She said she’s bringing a salad, too.”

Michael smiled again. “If it has pepperonicini in it, she stopped at the Domino’s and picked up a salad from there. Don’t let her fool you, I think it’s been years since Judy’s actually cooked one of her home-cooked meals. And it’s better like that for everyone.”

“Oh well, at least I don’t have to cook on crutches, that’s all I care about.”

“Oh, just to let you know, you were walking by because you had to buy something at the hardware store to fix the ship. I had slipped walking up the stairs into the house, and you heard me yelling.”

At Michael’s confused look, she further explained, “Elayne is practicing for the Spanish Inquisition. I think she may be double-checking to make sure that our stories agree.”

“But what was the hardware store doing open at midnight?” Michael asked.

“I didn’t think of that. Tell her, if she asks, that you didn’t know it was closed. Just play stupid, and maybe she’ll take pity. Next time we try to sneak out, we need to make up a better story in advance.”

“Next time?”

“Of course—you didn’t think I was going to let a little sprained ankle stop me, did you? Thanks for taking such good care of me last night, by the way.”

“As opposed to what—tossing you overboard and leaving you to swim with the fishes?”

“Well, that may have been one option, yes, but I was more thanking you for the especially nice gestures in caring for me like the mattress in your truck bed, and telling the nurse that you might ‘get a little medieval on her ass’ if the doctor didn’t vcome dsee me soon.”

“And what kind of girl doesn’ tlove a good ‘Pulp Fiction’ impression?”

“Well, that nurse, for one,” Michael admitted. “I suppose that was a little excessive. It was fun, though, until security escorted me out.”

“And the diner food on the way home was appreciated, too, even if I couldn’t enjoy the wonderful diner atmosphere.”

“What wonderful diner atmosphere? The truckers, or the career waitresses?”

“Ok, ok, it doesn’t have a wonderful atmosphere, I suppose I was thinking of somewhere else. The food was just what I needed, though. Anyway, thanks.”

“Well, you can do me one favor in exchange,” Michael said in a wheedling tone of voice.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Let me take Elayne for the day tomorrow. I’m teaching some of the younger kids how to swordfight, and I think she’d get a kick out of it, if not be really good at it.”

“Sure,” Brianne agreed. “You have to come get her and drop her off, though, I can’t drive until Tuesday – doctor’s orders.”


Michael picked Elayne up at nine-thirty the next morning. “We’re going out for a nice relaxing light breakfast,” he told her, “then we’re going to meet with some of the other crew members and I’m going to show you guys how pirates swordfight.”

Elayne was thrilled with the concept. All she knew about swordfighting was the little bit she was able to get in with sticks before her mother or someone else’s mother yelled about ‘putting your eye out.’