"Who is Jacob," I asked.

"I don't know. It was someone close to your father," he responded.

"Why did you stuff them in table?"

"I don't know how much longer I have."

I wanted to ask him more, but a noise caught our ear and he signaled me to be silent. The Reverend was extremely serious, so I didn't press him further. As I sat there, the stillness of the night allowed the burdens of the day to overwhelm me, and I couldn't go back to sleep. After a while, when the phantom threat had passed. I looked the Reverend in the eye and asked, "why is all this happening?" He looked around and when he felt safe, he turned to me. His countenance was one of compassion, as I imagined Jesus viewed the poor and sick.

"I don't know, Nathan. But I know it's not what our Lord intends. He is a good father. There's no evil that can't be redeemed, and he will work this all out for our good so that our pains are not without worth, as hard as it may seem to understand now."

I took the spiritual medicine dutifully, trusting that it would work its healing powers in me. I took it because I trusted in the Reverend, and not necessarily in the Lord to whom he referred.

"Will we survive?" I asked, revealing how scared I was.

He thought for a moment, then closed his eyes in prayer before reciting, "'And all these, though commended through their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better.'" He opened his eyes and looked at me. "I don't know if we'll survive, but God's purposes will be accomplished."

This provided some comfort for my soul, but I suspect that the Reverend understood that I acted more out of duty than faith.

"I hope these demons all rot in hell," I said.

The Reverend shot a piercing look.

"We have all fallen short of the glory of God. My life testifies that the worst of sinners can find salvation. No one is beyond redemption."

Suddenly, we heard the thud of footsteps, as someone came walking down the stairs. The commotion woke the crew, and we watched in amazement as the lantern light revealed the red-bearded pirate scratching himself and sauntering towards us. I was surprised to see that he was not drunk like the rest of his comrades. A drunk pirate followed close behind and unlocked the brig.

We all sat and watched as he approached with a roll of paper in his hand. Before he could say a word, the drunk pirate grabbed Keith by the throat and pulled him to his feet.

"All ye stand before the Quartermaster!" the drunk pirate bellowed.

We shot up like bullets from a gun.

He counted us before he started his interrogation. Satisfied that we were all there, he began.

"Before ye all meet our 'onorable Cap'n Stith, we need some information from ye: what be yer professions, yer ship's name, mission an' previous bearing?"

We looked at him in silence, not knowing what was in our best interest or what good Christian sailors should do. Although not seamen, the Surgeon and Reverend were the most respected in that brig, so they felt compelled to speak first.

"I'm the Surgeon. We sail on the Lady Rebecca, but I do not know where we were headed."
Before the pirate could question him further, the Reverend stepped in.

"I'm the Reverend for the ship, and we fulfilled our mission ferrying people to the new world and were sailing back east to England with prisoners to stand trial."

The pirate waited patiently as he listened to the rest of us describe our duties and confirm the Surgeon and Reverend's facts. No skilled men or officers were left from our crew, other than the Surgeon and Reverend. We were all young or inexperienced seamen, and this seemed to disappoint the quartermaster. I thought he might just walk away after silently contemplating us, but he said something instead.

"Who 'ere knows about these maps?"

Another silence ensued. I wondered what our enigmatic captor wanted.

"I do."

All eyes turned to the Reverend. His strong gaze and firm frame did credit to his profession. I'll never forget the strength he exuded in that moment.

"Ah, Reverend, ye was the one to 'elp us locate the maps in the first place. Ye plan to 'elp us again?"

"I want to keep the crew safe. If I tell you what I know about the maps, would you let us down in a row boat and let us sail away?"

A smirk escaped the pirate's stoic face.

"No," he said flatly, "tell me 'ow old the maps be, who 'ad made them, if ye found them accurate, an' 'ow ye knew so much about them an' I will let ye live a little longer."

The Reverend stared at the pirate in silence in a stoic refusal. When the pirate discerned that he had mis-stepped, he spoke again.

"Reverend, ye are an 'onorable man. Ye wouldn' allow anything to 'appen to your crew. Would ye?"

"Sweet words spoken through bars quickly lose their charm," the Reverend responded.

"Ok, I will offer a deal of safety if ye can answer my questions."

The Reverend, satisfied, provided answers to all the questions.

"Now fer me proposition," the pirate said. "Yer maps 'ave given us our new bearin' an' we need more crew members to 'elp us get there, so we be recruitin'. Who among ye wants to forsake yer petty virtues an' dismal situation to join the sweet trade? We promise riches an' freedom in proportion to yer 'ard work an' duty. Ye will get an equal vote in our ship's government in accordance with the ship's articles. All ye 'ave to do be sign the articles, take an oath, an' forfeit yer most valuable, material possession."

The crew fell silent again as they contemplated this new reality. The Reverend protested but the pirate silenced him saying he had kept his word. I burned with anger as I prayed for fire from heaven to consume them all. The red-bearded pirate saw my savage look and smiled with bemusement. I would have lunged at him had the Surgeon not held me back. The Reverend felt the growing uneasiness of the crew and felt compelled to speak up on behalf of us all.

"Our counter offer is that you give us back control of our ship and leave us in peace, and I will pray for your souls," he said.

Even at my young age I saw the pointlessness of his words, but since then I've grown to admire him at least for his courage. The pirate turned to him in disgust.

"Posturin' an' demands ain't becomin' fer ye just as barterin' isn't. Ye must stick to confessionals. Besides, it'll be a cold day in 'ell when the Royal Navy comes to yer aid."

A hand shot up, then two, then Keith's. Eventually, nearly half of our remaining crew chose to join the pirates. The drunk pirate released his new shipmates. What was left of the crew - the Surgeon, the Reverend, Thorne, myself, and one other sailor named Colin - sat shocked. I felt a mixture of betrayal and confusion. I wish I had put up a fight, but everything happened so fast that I didn't know how to react. My mind was numb.

Then the pirate asked the Reverend to come with them, in spite of the fact that he didn't raise his hand. I was confused but the Reverend understood. I looked to the Surgeon and he understood something too. He shook hands with the Reverend and asked for him to come back soon.

"Don't worry Priest, you'll be aft in yer cell soon enough. As long as ye say de proper things."

The red-bearded pirate signaled for the Reverend and new recruits to walk ahead of him. He looked back at us, still in the brig, as if taking a mental inventory. In a moment they were on the upper deck. I never saw the Reverend again.