Page 63 of Escaping Pirates
“I’m gonna fight like Peter one day,” Gil said, his young face shining with enthusiasm. “He’s young and he can fight.”
“I’ve heard of him,” I said. “And if I remember right, he was in prison for a few years already. He probably learned to fight from the other inmates.”
Gil’s eyes widened. “He must’ve been convicted when he was about my age then. I wonder what he did.” His voice had dropped to a reverent hush.
“I hope I never find out,” I answered fervently.
For the rest of the day, Peter seemed to crop up everywhere I looked, and he always seemed to have a captive audience. At meals, he told such animated stories that even Flint smiled in appreciation. I saw him pitching in to help with the dishes, then in the afternoon, he was teaching Gil to fight. He would slow down his punches and show Gil how to block and return blows, similar to how Harlan had taught me. For being a convicted criminal, he certainly was a charming, charismatic one.
“Peter has big plans,” Gil told me after his practice training session with Peter. “He says he is going to get rich and that I can join up if I want.”
“I wouldn’t trust him,” I warned him. “Criminals will lie, cheat, and steal with no remorse, no matter who you are.”
“Not Peter,” Gil assured me. “He says he always tells the truth to his friends, and he and I are friends now. You tried to stop the fight to be nice to him, so why don’t you want me to be friends with him?”
I sighed. Trust teenage boys to have no grasp on reality. “So how does he plan to get so rich?”
“Betting!”
“Ah yes, there is nothing like gambling to turn youth into wealthy lords,” I said drily. “What will you be betting on?”
“Fights, of course! Didn’t you see Peter today? There were lots of bets against him, but he won. We’re going to make people think that he isn’t any good, then get good odds.”
“Excellent. An amateur hustler. Just what the world needs.”
Gil frowned, his young face annoyed. “What’s your suggestion to get rich then?”
“Work an honorable job, save up, and spend less than you make.”
Gil groaned and slouched dramatically against the cabin wall. “But that would take forever!”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Maybe, but that way, you wouldn’t risk being sent to jail like Peter. Did he tell you why he ended up in prison for years?”
Gil shrugged. “A misunderstanding. He said there was a pirate who was out to get him. You don’t like pirates either.”
“No, I don’t.”
“What about bounty hunters?”
“No, they aren’t any better.”
“Spies?”
I let out a laugh. “No pirates, spies, assassins, bounty hunters, thieves, robbers, or anything of the sort.”
“What, do you want to hang out with princes and princesses?”
Harlan’s face burst into my mind’s eye. “I’m not that high class, and there is a lot of middle ground between royalty and criminals. My father is a merchant, so I guess I’m used to that.”
“Captain Tyrone’s a merchant. He’s nice to you.”
“He’s a pirate who calls himself a merchant, and hepretendsto be nice.” Then, to engage him in a more productive conversation, I asked, “What sort of job do you want when you grow up?”
He fidgeted, picking up a ship in a bottle and holding it up to the porthole as if he was pretending that the ship was floating on the sea beyond. “Something that makes a lot ofmoney. Peter says he has lots of ideas to get rich, and he and I are going to go explore together next time we get into port.”
An idea struck me. “Gil, if I give you a letter to post, can you send it without telling the captain?”
He chewed on his lip. “But I can’t read.”
