Thieves of the Black Sea. Joe O'Neill
Tariq asked.
Fez shrugged his shoulders and said, “I’m not sure—maybe because a nautical mile is longer than a regular mile?”
“That’s silly,” Aseem said.
“Everything is different on a boat. It’s not even called a rope; it’s called a line. Left is port and right is starboard. The front is the bow and the rear is the stern.”
“Why do they call everything different?” Tariq asked.
“I guess when you’re stuck at sea for weeks at a time, you get pretty bored,” Fez replied.
After explaining about how a keel keeps the boat upright beneath the water, Fez and Aseem sheepishly looked at one another.
“Tariq, we wanted to do something to honor Melbourne Jack, but we didn’t want you to think it was dumb,” Aseem explained.
“What?”
“We were talking—that when Aji died, Zijuan told you to light a lantern to honor him. I was thinking we could make lanterns to place on the ocean in memory of Jack?”
Tariq nodded his head and put his hand on Aseem’s shoulders.
“I would like that very much,” he replied and smiled.
Aseem went over to a wooden pail and took out some small pieces of driftwood and tiny pieces of candle cut from a much larger candle given to them by Scopas. Fez helped place the pieces of wood and candles on the deck between Aseem and Tariq.
As the boys constructed the small floating lanterns, Tariq shared with his friends the last conversation he had with Melbourne Jack.
“Jack told me he didn’t want to be mourned. He wanted us to be bold in our lives and be true to ourselves and each other,” Tariq said quietly. “He made me promise to return the diary to his circus, to Foster Crowe. He didn’t know where the circus is now, but that if I go to India I can learn its location.”
Fez and Aseem nodded and solemnly focused on the project of making lanterns from the pieces of driftwood, each with a tiny candle in the middle. They were careful to provide plenty of leverage on either side so the wood wouldn’t collapse. Once finished, they lit the candles and then placed them in the wake of the Osprey. Slowly, the floating lanterns all drifted away, flickering in the dusk.
Each boy closed his eyes in silent prayer for Melbourne Jack, and then each bowed in deference to his memory.
CHAPTER
— 4 —
TWO LOST RABBITS
Margaret and Inez stumbled through the forest. Margaret’s right ankle throbbed, while Inez felt a sharp pain on her temple and blood trickled down her face.
Through the thicket of trees, in the darkness, it was impossible to see any kind of trail. The girls ran blindly—falling, picking themselves up, falling again, and continuing to move in any direction they could, so long as it was away from the crash site they had fled. Their knees, elbows, and palms were covered in dirt and scraped with blood. The only sound that could be heard, in the otherwise stillness of the forest, was the crackling of branches under their feet and their labored breath.
They ran until their legs screamed with pain and their lungs shouted to stop. Finally, when they arrived at the edge of a small stream, Margaret allowed them to rest.
Both girls doubled over, gulping air into their pleading lungs. Sweat poured down their necks and soaked their shirts. They were bloodied and bruised, a feeling of shock resonating throughout their bodies.
After a moment, Margaret leaned down to the water’s edge and began scooping handfuls of water into her mouth. Her ankle throbbed, and she wanted nothing more than to take off her boot and let it soak in the cool water. Inez followed suit until both girls felt their breath return to normal and their bodies cool a bit. They rinsed the blood and sweat from their faces.
“Let’s go,” Margaret urged and soon they were running through the forest again, staying as close to the stream as they could.
Inez ran, and Margaret limped, for another twenty minutes, until Margaret finally stopped and leaned against a tree.
“Inez, I have to stop. My ankle is killing me. Besides, I don’t hear them following us anymore.”
Inez was bent over in exhaustion as well, and her face was drenched with sweat.
“Yes, let’s stop for a minute.”
After catching her breath, Inez looked at Margaret. Margaret was dirty and sweaty and grimacing with pain, but Inez had never been happier to see anyone in her life.
“Margaret, how did you find me? What happened? I thought I was all alone—those men were so scary,” Inez said and went and hugged her friend tightly. Margaret, unaccustomed to any kind of display of affection from Inez, was taken aback for a moment. She held her friend close, and could feel Inez shake in her arms as she cried into Margaret’s chest.
“You would have done the same for me,” she whispered in Inez’s ear.
Finally, Inez released her grip on Margaret, her eyes watery from tears.
“How did you find me?” Inez asked again with a sniffle.
“When you went missing from school, I knew there was only one place you would have gone, and that was to spy on the Germans. I found your notebook and binoculars on the hillside by the farmhouse. I saw them put you in the truck, so I ran down and hopped in the second truck. It was luck, really,” Margaret said, remembering her British humility to never embellish.
“You’re a hero! That is the bravest thing I’ve ever heard of!” Inez exclaimed.
Margaret had to smile at the enthusiasm in her friend’s face. She never thought of herself as brave, or as any kind of hero, but seeing the joy in Inez’s eyes, she now realized how alone she’d been.
“It was nothing. Now, we’ve got to figure out where we are,” Margaret replied, wanting to shift the attention from herself.
Margaret tried to peer through the darkness, but it was hopeless. Without some kind of light, they would simply be walking blind.
“I think we need to rest a bit until dawn and then begin walking. We mustn’t go to the main road because they might be patrolling it, so, we’ll stick to the forest.”
“I have no idea where we are,” Inez said.
“We traveled for a long while. I think we’re in Germany.”
“Germany! Why would they want to bring me to Germany? If they were going to kill me, why not just kill me in France?”
“That’s just it. I don’t think they wanted to kill you, but I also don’t know what they wanted with you.”
Inez stood and thought for a moment.
“It’s getting cold, Margaret,” Inez said.
“Let’s make a quick shelter. Grab as many long branches as you can and I’ll collect leaves. The drier the branches, the better,” Margaret ordered.
The girls gathered all the leaves and branches they could find, and then Margaret went about preparing a kind of teepee fort made of branches with leaves for flooring and spread on the outside for insulation.
Inez watched her in amazement.
“That is so neat. Who taught you how to make a fort?”
“My father. I’m making it small so it will keep us warm. It will be cramped, but that’s the point.”
In no time, the fort was built and both girls crawled inside. It was small, so they had to curl up together. Still, it was warm.
Inez felt Margaret next to her. She finally posed a question that had been