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“Where are we?” asked Tommy.

“Marblehead, just outside of Salem” said Sarah. “about 17 miles from Boston.

“Are we near New Jerusalem?” asked Tommy.

Sarah looked at Little Bear, who shrugged as if to say ‘leave me out of this. These are white man’s names’ “Salem. Salem is short for New Jerusalem. When Salem was founded, they wanted to create a new holy land for Puritans. I’ve never heard anyone call it that before. Where did you hear that?”

“That is what the pirates call it. They have a plot they are hatching.”

“I knew it!” Sarah thumped Little Bear on the shoulder in triumph. “What is their plot?”

Just then, a shot rang out in the woods. It was the middle of the night, and the sound was as foreign as the sight of an elephant would have been. “give me the pistol” whispered Tommy. Little Bear handed it over as the children instinctively made for cover in the woods in the opposite direction of the gunfire. It had only been a single shot, and it had echoed long in the subsequent silence.

Once safely in the cover of the brush, Tommy began drying the inside of the pistol, and produced from his boots powder & lead balls from oilskin pouches. Sarah began to wonder what this magician would produce next.

“They will hear of your escape, and how you were aided by us.” Little Bear said. “They will come looking for us.” Sarah had not considered this.

“They have other concerns more pressing.” said Tommy.

“we shall see. We had best get back to our homes before we are missed” Little Bear said. “You are welcome at my campfire. I believe I can find an extra blanket for you”

Tommy smiled. “That would be much appreciated, Friend. I’ve not slept as a free man for some time.”

As Sarah walked home, she wondered about the turns her life had taken. She had grown to trust Little Bear, and really enjoyed their time together. He showed her secret places in the woods that were beautiful and fascinating. He taught her Indian ways such as moving quietly, reading animal tracks & being able to tell when a storm is coming. She was teaching him to read and do math. They compared religious and superstitious beliefs.

But Tommy was different. He was… dangerous. He spoke Little Bear’s language, he could use a sword, he carried ammunition in his boot! He had an air to him of someone who was hiding something. Why had the pirates locked him up? How had they captured him? How did he fit into whatever was going on? Sarah wasn’t sure she would have believed whatever plot he would have told them about.

She was glad to get home, out of her damp clothes, and into her warm bed.

“Boy! Am I glad to see you two! Quick, throw those keys over here!” the boy said, as if he had been expecting Sarah, and Little Bear. He was dressed all in black, which was not unusual For Massachusetts, but his collar wasn’t fastened all the way to the top, giving him a cavalier appearance. He was lean and tan, and his blond hair fell around his face unkempt. “Do you want those pirates to throw me to the sharks?” he asked. This brought Sarah out of her reverie. It was counter to her upbringing to free a prisoner on his command, but this wasn’t a town drunk in the stockade, he was imprisoned by people who aught to be in prison themselves; ergo, he should be set free, right? She moved to the cell door and unlocked it. “Many thanks. Name’s Mellvill. Tommy Melvill.” He bowed.

“Sarah Good.” Sarah said with a curtsy. “This is my friend, Little Bear.”

Tommy said something to Little Bear in Wampanoag that Sarah couldn’t make out. Little Bear grunted in return. “Let’s get out of here before they come back, eh?” suggested Tommy.

Sarah & Little Bear didn’t need to be told twice. They were up on deck & ready to jump into the water when they heard a drunken shout, “What in the name of the Devil’s tale is going on up here?” As Sarah turned, she saw a pirate coming forward from the stern with a sword in one hand and a pistol in the other. She froze and felt the blood drain from her face. What had been a lark was suddenly deadly serious.

“A savage and a towny?” said the pirate assessing the situation. A lecherous smile came across his face. “Well, let’s have some fun, eh? Come here missy, let’s have a look at ye!” Sarah was close enough to the rail to disappear overboard, but she froze at the sight of the pistol. Little Bear moved between the man and Sarah, and the scalawag lifted his gun and aimed waveringly at them. He fired.

The shot was loud and blinding. There was an instantaneous following thunder as the ball sundered the deck to Sarah’s right about two feet from where she stood, leaving a hole about two inches around. She looked up to see that Tommy had spoiled the pirate’s aim by pulling his arm from behind with a deck mop. The same motion had spun the buccaneer around to face Tommy and he was now swinging his cutlass at the lad with ferocity. Instead of dodging, Tommy leaned into the pirate, jabbing him with the mop handle in the gut.

Little Bear had taken this moment to close the distance to come to Tommy’s aid. The native leaped onto the scalawag’s back, and got him in a headlock. Tommy punched the pirate in the face, and he lost his balance falling backward. Little Bear leaped free before the pirate fell on him. As he hit the deck, he lost his sword, and Tommy scooped it up.

Tommy pointed the cutlass in the pirate’s face. “I’ll have that, Matey.” he said of the empty pistol, which the scalawag dropped onto the deck near Little Bear’s feet. Little Bear picked it up.

“Let’s get out of here!” Sarah said.

“That,” said Tommy, “is the best idea I have heard all day!” and the three of them plunged into the sea.