Felipe Feldmar

It wouldn’t be easy to go halvers with the bounty. We had agreed with Small Eye Jones. But I really wanted at least three quarters. No, I wanted all of it.

I stared at her. She glinted under the Caribbean sun. Jewels glistened from her like tropical fish and pendants clung to her were like petals clinging to a flower covered with morning dew. The only sound was that of the waves, ebbing and flowing, embracing her, trying to pull her back to sea. Small Eye Jones began to drag her out of the water. I stuck out my cutlass to ban the way.

“You’ol‚ runt. You think I’m going to part with her?” he said.

I looked at him, feverish. It had been so long. It was 1760. Three years ago, a group of passengers and crew had survived the storm and swum to shore. I am, was, the captain. I led them all to perdition. All my decisions had left only two of us. Three if you are counting the one I was about to kill for. I had to have her. I was desperate for meat.

First published: November 2002