The Dread Pirate Molly Hawke Ch. 02

Clayton's jaw fell open as he leaned forward, "You were a privateer?"

Bess looked down, "Why do you ask? Is there still a price on my head? There cannot be, for I found a letter from my mother in the box where I was which said that my body had been released to them as it was supposed that I was dead. I don't know what happened, but I was only supposed to appear dead. The letter said that no one could revive me."

She sat back on her chair, drawing her legs up as she remembered, "I was a privateer with my man, Alexander Hawke. I went by the name Molly Hawke then. I had one ship at first, a Bermuda sloop and she was my favorite and very fast -- quick to turn and she could sail upwind as easy as falling down. Eighteen guns, she had at first, but I added a lower half gun deck and eight of the guns on the top deck were moved down and I put carronades on the upper deck. When she came to me, I named her Sea Witch.

Next, I got a sloop-of-war, the Lily, She wasn't as fast or nimble, but she could dance all the same and she mounted eighteen carronades, thirty-two pounders. Last was little Bluebell. She was only a ketch, but she was seventy feet and she had ten guns." She looked over at him in surprise, seeing the understanding there in them, "You know what a sloop is?"

He nodded, "Yes, a ketch as well," and he began to explain the differences between the two types, astounding Bess at the same time that he'd know.

Clayton smiled, "When I was a boy, living on the island, I used to spend hours playing pirate. For my birthday, my father went to the mainland and he bought me a few books on pirates. I would research every pirate and privateer that I could. I've read of Molly Hawke. You were supposed to be hung, but I never found out if it was true, and since I can see that you're not dead, I --"

"How do you know?" she asked.

"Excuse me," Clayton said, "What did you just say?"

"I said, how you know that I not dead?" she repeated, the level to which she was upset beginning to show in her increasingly accented speech, "Even I not sure. I 'ave been hopin' for alla dis time that me not a ghost, but I 'ave no way to know. Me know that I was alive once. I can remember being a little girl and growin' up. I recall bein' married to a cruel man and den I recall bein' with Alexander.

I recall that I was 'urt because he was seein' other women behind me back. I remember seein' 'im hang in a gibbet."

He saw her eyes beginning to fill a little as she went on, "I was in love with Willem but he died in a trap. I recall 'ow I caught and that I was not goin' to get a feah trial because the Spanish ambassador want me dead so much and there was no one to speak for me to any magistrate. My mother and grandmother come and they told me that they must put me under and they'd get me out because the guards would think me dead.

Then I recall nothing for a long time. When I wake up ... When I wake -- "

Bess began to cry and Clayton sat in silence for a time, guessing that she needed it. He took her hand in both of his and he stroked it.

She wound down after a while and he got up. When she looked at him, he was on one knee beside her, offering her his handkerchief. She took it with her thanks and after wiping her face, she blew her nose and looked at him.

"I can disappear -- even if I don't want to sometimes. I can go trew t'ings sometimes. Me never get any older. I eat only when I remember to. That not right," she said, "Living people don't do that. So," she hung her head and he heard her voice breaking a little, "I must be dead. And if me dead, then the only t'ing that I can be is a ghost." She looked up and her lip was trembling a little.

"If it matters to you what I think," he said, "I disagree. You're not dead. I don't know what you are, exactly, but to me, if you're not human, then you're a pretty good approximation of one. We've only been talking to each other for a little while today, but ... I guess I've known you were here for a couple of days. I thought that I was making you up at first. THEN I thought that maybe you were a ghost, but not anymore." He shrugged.

You're not a ghost," he smiled.

"I'm not?" she asked, "Please, Claytan, tell me somet'ing that I can hold onto as proof."

"Hold my hand, Bess," he said quietly and she reached for his hand.

"Can you feel my hand in yours?"

She nodded and he smiled a little, "I can feel your hand in mine and it feels warm to me. It feels good to me to hold your hand. But you want proof, I guess. Right?" he asked looking up into her face.

She nodded, "Something."

"Ok," he smiled, "but it's not going to be pretty."

Bess wondered what he meant, but he seemed to be willing to help her, so she tried to prepare herself for something.

"Look in the handkerchief," he grinned a little, "Ghosts can't do that."

She opened the handkerchief and grimaced at what she saw for a moment, "No," she smiled a little," I guess they can't. What am I then?"

He shrugged, "That, I don't know. But I do know that you feel warm to me and I think you're beautiful. You can eat food and you have good table manners," he chuckled.

"That's enough to make my mother like you right there. A hell of a step up in her eyes from the sort of girl that I used to spend time with."

It made her laugh a little which was what he'd hoped it would do for her. He picked up his unused spoon, "If you need more proof, then you'll need to be quick, Bess. Hold this up to your mouth and breathe out, and with luck, we'll know a bit more."

She did as he asked and smiled to see the bit of moisture there on the metal from her breath.

"So you can move air. Ghost can't do that," he smiled, "And I do hope that will suffice for you, since the only other thing that I can think of would be to ask you to make water on my hand and I'm certain that I could tell you that it felt like hot piss -- but please don't ask it of me."

She laughed, "I must pee quite often,..." she looked away for a moment, "As much as any girl, I expect. I have thought of these things before, but they never seemed to me to be any sort of proof of anything. Yet with you here telling me, I find that I am prepared to believe it. But the next question still remains."

"I don't know what you might be if you are not human," Clayton smiled, "but I believe that you must be, or you wouldn't look as you do. And if you are not human, then at least you are a female who makes me smile when she speaks to me."

Bess looked up a little shyly, "Thank you Claytan. I am in your debt for your concern and the way that you desire to help me."

He nodded and went to sit down again.

"Do you know," she began, "that just now, as you went over there, I felt the want of your warmth."

He chuckled, "That only adds to my conviction that you are a female -- and it adds to my suspicion that if you are not a human one, then whatever you might be must be very close to one indeed."

She smiled then, amazed that he could make her feel so much better. But then she fell silent for a moment, looking down in thought. She was wondering about things and so she finally looked up and over to him.

"I know it not true, you know," she said in a quiet voice, "what you said about your mother."

He looked up from his plate then, the forkful of food forgotten on the utensil, "You know of it?"

She nodded, "Enough to know that it was said to ease my mind -- and I am truly thankful, Claytan, but I know that the one which you spent time wit' was not anyone who you would want your mother to meet."

It was the truth, but Bess was making an incorrect assumption about him, though he didn't know that yet. Her confusion stemmed from something else that she felt in him which confused her since he hid it. That was what she felt and so she assumed that it had to do with orientation, which was rather far from the way of things.

He looked a little perturbed for a moment and then he looked a little sad. After a moment, he said only, "It wasn't our intent -- what happened. It just, ..."

She nodded, "It just 'appened, I know that. I can see some t'ings in ya mind and in ya 'eart, Claytan. I don't fault you for it and it don't change the way that I see you."

"How do you see me, then and how is it that you can know?" he asked, as he remembered the forkful of food and put it into his mouth before he laid the fork down.

She grinned at that and pointed a little, "We spend such time ponderin' what I might be that we forget you. What you did there with the food just tell me that you are a male, Claytan, for a male would do as you have done and finished a bit of food which was in the way of our conversation," she nodded in a decisive manner. "How was I known when you read about Molly Hawke?"

"He looked a little blank as he recalled it, "I read about the Sea Witch Molly Hawke."

She nodded, "And how do you suppose that she got to be a witch in de firs' place?

Claytan, this have nothing to do with me disappearing. I am a witch, Claytan.

Me born a witch, ya know. Me mother was a witch and me grandmother was a witch and her mother before her and so on. My grandfather was a houngan asogwe, and -- "

"A what?" He asked.

"Never mind," she said, "You best not know, because THAT have a lot to do with me disappearing, for certain."

She reached for his arm, "To me, you are a handsome man, one that I can see meself wantin' to spend time with and work beside. I can see a little into you. There is a lot of work facing you here and I see that you are at least a little hopeful that I can help you with some of it. If you teach me, Claytan, I will do as I can for you -- and I mean that with a bit of hope."

She laughed a little then, "Me want a friend, you know," she said a little coquettishly. "It too cold and lonely here for me. Seeing you here and meeting you now is the best turn of fortune that I have seen in alla my time since I leave Jamaica, other than meeting Pok."

She looked away for a moment and then she regarded him, "Let me hold your hand again."

He reached for her and when she had his hand, she smiled at him, "I must tell you something, Claytan. A long time ago, I leave Jamaica and land on Hispaniola -- a place that I think you call Cuba. I walk from the south to the north and I sail until I reach Louisiana.

And there, in the swamp, me find a boy, Brian. Nobody could see me then, but him can. After a time, we were friends and I learn a few t'ings. He was a man, but him want another man and it that want in him which cause him ta die in the end, beaten down by three men for what he want."

She shook her head, "And all that he wanted was the same as all of us want. Him wanted to be loved. But he did not die right away. I did my best, but his mind was far from his body. It like he was just there, but him lost the way to control anything. I found a way to go inside to be with him for a time, and then he die.

But I learn something from being in there. You say me female and I guess that part at least is correct. I born a girl and I grow as a girl until I become a woman. Like most others, I learn that I want a man's touch and I crave to have his thing in me. I never minded having it in me ass either -- sometimes I really liked it - if the man gentle with me and put me in the mood for it."

She looked at him as she slid her thumb over the back of his hand for a moment, "But I never crave to have it there. While I search for a way to help Brian, I find his memories and from them, I come to know how a man can crave the touch of another man. It all the same," she said with a small wave of her other hand, "to want the love of someone, and it is a form of Hell to never be able to have it."

She tilted her head as she looked at him a little intently, "I see some things in you and they are the same as anyone might have. But I see that there is something else -- something different about you that I never see in anyone before."

The statement had been a little incorrect and purposely worded that way. She had seen someone with these things inside of them, she just remained silent about it because to her limited knowledge, it wasn't possible. She read some similarity to Pok in him and it made no sense.

She sat back a little and smiled, "I find that I want to know you, Claytan and I am someone who has not wanted to know anything of another person in so long. I only hope that you might feel a little like I do."

He nodded, but said nothing for a moment. He looked at her plate and then he asked her if she wanted any more, but she shook her head.

"Then please, Bess," he said, "Come here."

She stood up and walked over to him, looking down for a moment, "You have never been with a woman, have you?"

He looked up, "I have but not for long. I was in love but I guess it's a lie what they say about love being blind. After I left, I never wanted to be close to anyone ever again. I've been with women sometimes, but never for more than a night or so."

"It alright," she said as she reached out to touch his hair, "You can be with me tonight if you wish it."

"I hate to say it, and I'm afraid that it might ruin things, but I'm not sure that I do," he said, "It's not that we don't know what you are. I don't care about that. You're easily the prettiest woman I've ever seen in my life. I guess I'm just not sure if I want to try."

"But you find me fetching at all?" she asked and he nodded, "Yes, very much."

She ran her fingers through his hair for a few moments, just sensing him. "Please, Claytan, Stand up and we can see how it feels to hold each other. I haven't felt that it a long time."

He stood up a little slowly and she smiled up at him, "I was wrong, you know. You are so fine to me, I must revise my estimation." She put her arms around his neck and stretched up a little to kiss him and that was the start of a very long kiss indeed. Bess made no comment of it, but it came as a thrill to her to feel his response to her and the wonderful way that it felt to have him press against her a little.

But there was something about him that bothered her a little. He was tremendously attractive to her and she liked everything about him that she'd noticed. And yet, it felt as though he was holding back a bit somehow.

"What is it, Claytan, "she asked, "there is something wrong, isn't there?"

He nodded, "I'm afraid."

She chuckled a little and she touched his cheek, "What in the world would a man like you have to be afraid of? I'm not goin' to hurt you, you know."

"I'm afraid to do very much. I -- I might lose myself."

She held him tightly then, "We don't know each other at all well yet, but I think that it is my favorite part -- to lose myself to the feeling. Just tell me yes, Clayton, and you can have someone to sleep against you who would be happy to share her bed with you. If you feel uncertain, we can wait until you are sure."

"That sounds so good to me, Bess, "he said, "but it's something else. I don't think I can really talk about it."

"I understand," she said, "But I'm not going to go away, you know. I just feel a hope in me for you." She began to walk away then, only feeling a little foolish. Clayton saw it and asked her to wait.

"I just need some time," he said, "I came here to buy a boat. I didn't think that there would be anyone here."

She looked at him and nodded before she thanked him and walked to her room.