NO PLACE TO HIDE
by
Sandpiper
Chapter 3
The Chapters
Wednesday, April 19th
4:37 pm
Joe turned to look at Frank, slowly shaking his head. “I....It was in the nightmare, Frank. I could wield a something that looked like a sword...”
“You don’t look like the type to be a naval officer or a seaman,” said MacLeod in a conversational tone. “But a pirate is an entirely different story...”
Joe gave a start and Frank remembered with vivid clarity, the beach...Joe coming up out of the water, dripping wet...Vanessa saying she could see Joe as a pirate, long blond hair, earring...
Frank looked over at his brother and then glanced at MacLeod. “A pirate, but—”
MacLeod stood up in a sudden move and strode over to them. He was about an inch taller than Frank, but something about his stance, the expression on his face, made him seem to tower over them both. He looked at Joe. “A pirate, complete with sword and earring....”
Feeling threatened, Joe stepped back. “I’m not a pirate. Pirates aren’t nice people...” His voice trailed off and he felt confused again.
MacLeod let out a laugh and shrugged again. “So all the history books say.” He went back to the bench and picked up his sword. He spun it around in a practiced move and with his other hand, grabbed the towel. He slung the towel over one shoulder and with a nod to Kupcek, walked through the door that led to the dressing room.
“Who is that guy?” Joe asked Kupcek, pointing in the direction MacLeod had gone.
Kupcek sighed. “He owns an antique store in Vancouver, British Columbia.”
“And he travels around with a sword?” asked Frank. “Is he some sort of competition swordsman?”
“Ha...no.” Kupcek motioned them to follow him into his office. The older man sat down in the chair behind his desk. “No, Duncan...is a unique soul; marches to a beat of a different drummer.”
Joe grunted. “Well...I guess we should go.”
“Duncan is right about one thing, Joe,” said Kupcek. “Talent like that shouldn’t be wasted. It must run in the family.”
Frank managed a faint smile. “Yeah, it must.”
“You know, Frank, you’re welcome back any time.”
Frank nodded. “I know, Coach, but...”
“Detective work is where you want to be. I understand, and I understand after that fiasco in Germany, you’d rather not focus on fencing but you’re both natural athletes with the kind of ability most fencers and swordsmen can only wish for.”
Frank shook the man’s hand. “We’ll consider it, Coach. We’d better go.”
“Good bye, Frank, don’t be a stranger.”
“Bye,” said Joe as they left the salle. Joe frowned as he saw someone leaning against the van. “I see my new fan hasn’t left yet.”
Frank led the way across the street. “Just who are you, anyway?”
“Duncan MacLeod. I think we need to talk.”
Joe folded his arms across his chest. “Why?”
Duncan took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. “I heard you talking about nightmares. You know, nightmares are nothing more than memories with no place to hide.”
Joe gave him a hard look. “How can that be?”
Duncan shrugged and pushed himself away from the van. “Think about it. Someone witnesses a horrible incident but then they shove it deep down, try to forget it. Only then they start having nightmares. You can’t ignore your memories.”
Frank shook his head. “Even if it means the impossible?”
“Like I said, we need to talk.”
Frank and Joe shared a look. “Where?” asked Joe.
“I’m at the Bayport Inn, room 42.”
Frank studied the man for a moment. “Why do you think we’ll be there?”
Duncan picked up his duffle bag. “Because you want the answers.” He headed for the sidewalk and started walking.
Joe watched the man walk away and then got into the van. “Are we going to let him walk or do we drive him?”
Frank got in on the passenger side. “I’ll take a wild guess and say we’re giving him a ride to the inn.”
Joe flashed his brother a grin and made a U-turn in the street. Frank rolled down his window. “Hey, need a lift?”
Duncan grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.” He pulled open the side door and got in. He pulled the door shut with a click. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Joe steered down the street, heading for the Bayport Inn. About halfway there, he took a sudden detour.
“Joe?”
“Maybe I’m imagining things but that car has been following us for the last few minutes. It’s an older bronze-colored two-door sedan.”
Frank twisted around in his seat. “I see them.”
Joe took another left turn. “Why on earth do we have a tail?” he asked.
“Good question. Do you still have those binoculars in here?”
“Yeah. Under the seat.” Joe waited until Frank dug them out and peered through them. “Can you make out the driver? Or anything about the car?”
Frank put the glasses to his eyes and peered through. “Burly guy, black hair...there’s a rental sticker on the front windshield. If I recognize the colors, it’s that cheap place at the airport. You know the one.”
“Yeah. The driver doesn’t look familiar?”
“Nope.” Frank shifted slightly, noticing a passenger in the car. The man had pale blond hair and hard eyes. “Neither does the passenger.” He lowered the binoculars. “Wouldn’t want to tangle with either of them, though. They look mean.”
“May I see those?” asked Duncan, suddenly.
Frank arched an eyebrow but handed the binoculars to him. Duncan turned around and looked through the glasses. He handed the binoculars back to Frank. “It would be in your best interest to lose them.”
Joe glanced in the rearview mirror at Duncan. “What do you mean?”
Duncan shook his head. “Just lose them.”
Joe looked at Frank who shrugged. “You heard him.”
Joe took several more turns, onto more residential streets. He darted down several connecting streets, finally ending up at the back entrance to the Bayport Inn. He glanced at the rear view mirror. “I think we lost them.”
“Keep a sharp eye out when you two head home,” ordered Duncan, moving to open the side door.
“You know them, don’t you,” said Frank, starting to get angry. “Who are they?”
“I’ll deal with them when the time comes.” Duncan yanked open the side door and got out.
After he closed the side door, Frank and Joe sat there a moment in the van. “Are we still going in?” asked Joe.
“He said if we wanted answers...” Frank shook his head. “Come on. Let’s find out what we can.”
*****
They entered the lobby to find Duncan getting his card key. He gestured to the stairs. “Let’s head up to my room. It has a nice view of the town square.” He led the way up a set of stairs and down a carpeted hallway.
Frank and Joe followed him as he opened a door to a corner suite.
“Please, have a seat,” said Duncan. “Anyone thirsty?”
When both of them shook their heads, Duncan sat down in one of the oversized upholstered chairs. “Please sit down.” Once they complied, he sighed. “There’s a legend in the Caribbean...a legend almost as famous as that of Jack Sparrow.”
Duncan paused a moment, eying his visitors. When no one said anything, he continued. “It’s an odd legend to be sure. One I’d not believe if I didn’t have it on the utmost authority that it’s true.”
“How can a legend be true?” asked Joe at the same time Frank asked, “How could you know it was true?”
Duncan chuckled. “An...ancestor of mine served aboard the Diego Cesar Olano, a Spanish galleon, commandeered by Fernando Valesquez, a Spanish privateer. At any rate, in his journal, he swears it’s true. There was a ship once, the bane of all ships, English, Spanish and French alike. It was a pirate ship called the Black Pearl. The ship was in the possession of one Jack Sparrow. But according to...my ancestor’s journal, in the summer of 1725, the unbelievable happened.”
Joe narrowed his eyes. “The Black Pearl...a pirate ship...” He had a fleeting glimpse of a memory of a woman wearing a soldier’s uniform but then it was gone.
Frank frowned. “What happened?”
“Somehow, Jack Sparrow vanished, after finding a magnificent treasure. In his stead, the ship was captained by a young blond pirate by the name of Joseph Lock. But there is no record of anyone by that name ever living in Port Royal or anywhere else. In fact, the only Locke history knows of living around that time is John Locke but he died in 1704.”
Joe felt a frisson of something ghost over his skin. Maybe it was just that their first names were the same. “So who was he?”
“According to the journal, no one really knew. All that’s mentioned was, he was unskilled but a fast learner, wielding a sword like it was an extension of his arm. He vanished most mysteriously, in much the same way Jack Sparrow returned to take over the helm of the Black Pearl.” Duncan was staring off into the middle distance but as he finished speaking, he looked directly at Joe.
Joe drew back, startled. “What?”
“Like you did today in the salle.”
Joe got to his feet and shook his head. “So we have the same first...” His voice trailed off as he looked over at Duncan. “I know you....I remember...” Joe staggered and sat down hard on the chair.
Frank looked over at his brother. “Joe?”
“Frank, Dyllan was right....”
“Joe—” Frank started to shake his head when he remembered something as well. He looked over at Duncan. “Who did you say the captain was?”
“Jack Sparrow.”
“But time travel isn’t possible....” Frank said, feeling very unsettled. “It’s not logically possible.”
Duncan gave him a faint smile. “Ah, but logic isn’t everything.”
Joe shuddered. “How could you be back then? On that other ship?”
Duncan shifted in his seat. “That was my ancestor. It’s been said I’m a dead ringer for him.”
Joe didn’t look convinced. “So you don’t know anything else?”
Duncan gave Joe a long look and as the silence stretched so long, Frank wondered if the man was even going to answer his brother. Finally, Duncan sighed. “Nothing more than what’s in the journal.”
“So that’s it then.” Joe got back to his feet. “You’re just going to leave it at that.”
Duncan suddenly got up and walked to the nearest window. “Actually, no. I have one more thing to do.” He left the sitting area and disappeared into the bedroom.
Joe started pacing. “I don’t understand. How could I have ended up in the past? It doesn’t make sense.”
Duncan came back out with two long, cloth-wrapped bundles. “Here.”
Joe frowned. “Why do I have a bad feeling about whatever you’re holding?”
“Just take them. And if those two men in the car follow you again, use them.”
Duncan handed Frank one bundle but when he handed the other one to Joe, he wouldn’t take it. “Joe, please. It might just keep you both alive.”
Frank unwrapped his bundle and stared at the object inside. “A sword? You want us to fight with swords?”
“It might be the only way.”
When Duncan wouldn’t step back, Joe finally took the bundle and unwrapped it. He pulled out a gleaming sword that somehow felt very familiar. The grip seemed to fit his hand perfectly. Joe felt a chill sweep over him as he saw the small symbol etched into the sword blade just above the tang. It was a four-leaf clover.
Joe looked over at him. “How did you...what are you doing with this sword.”
Duncan arched an eyebrow. “You really want to know?”
Frank started to shake his head no. This was too unbelievable, too crazy to even contemplate. For a second, he flashed on a large room full of background chatter and people. There had been one bank of windows showing nothing but the black emptiness of space, silver walls that seemed to curve...a crazy game of Battleship with spaceships. Where out in left field did that come from? he wondered dazedly, looking at Joe.
Joe gazed at the sword for a long moment. “Tell me...please.”
Duncan cleared his throat. “This Joseph Lock seemed to defy explanation. It is said he was young, not even in his twenties when he commanded the Black Pearl—”
Frank shook his head, snapping out of his daze. “Oh now, come on. Some teenager in command of bloodthirsty pirates? We can’t even get the police around here to listen to us half the time.”
“Interesting you bring that up. My...ancestor did witness a moment’s power struggle between the young man and a crewmember but it was ended shortly by another man, obviously the captain’s first mate.”
Joe grunted. “Hmm. So how did he wind up captain of a pirate ship?” he asked, the sarcasm thick in his tone.
Duncan sat back down in his chair. “There’s no explanation in the journal why someone else was captaining the Black Pearl. Only that Valesquez managed to scuttle the Pearl and yet...”
Frank gave the man an odd look. “And yet...wait a minute. What do you mean, and yet?”
Duncan heaved a put-upon sigh and shook his head. “It makes no sense to me. If I had the journal I’d show it to you so you could see for yourselves but it’s on the barge in Paris. My...ancestor says that the ship is on fire, cannons are going off and suddenly—”
Joe leaned forward, a tingling of awareness thrumming through his own body. “What?”
Duncan took a deep breath. “Suddenly, the Diego Cesar Olano was docked at what was then the port city of Belice. The last notations in the journal are that the Black Pearl still plies the waters of the Caribbean, captained by the familiar figure of Jack Sparrow.”
“That still doesn’t explain why this pirate crew would allow a teenager to be the captain,” said Frank.
“One of the crew was a woman – Anamaria by name.” Something in the way, he said it made Joe shiver ever so slightly but for no reason he could fathom. “She was the illegitimate daughter of a plantation owner and a slave. She earned a reputation for running away and finally by the time she was sixteen, it was said the plantation owner had given up trying to bring her back. Oddly enough, Anamaria ran to the sea for the escape. Most pirate crews refused to have a woman on board. Sailors, pirates too, are a superstitious lot and thought having a woman on board was bad luck.”
Duncan shifted in the chair. “So Anamaria decided to take charge. She commandeered a small boat, grabbed a few of the crazier sailors who didn’t care one way or another and she was off as a pirate. Before she could get a name for herself, she met Jack Sparrow who promptly stole her boat and took off. After a shaky reconciliation, she joined Sparrow’s crew.”
For Joe, there was an echo in his memory, like he’d heard the story before. “Then what?”
“Anamaria was the only one Sparrow trusted to steer his ship. Here the account seems a bit cloudy – something that affected Anamaria directly and Lock saved her life.” Duncan shrugged. “She was his strongest supporter when after Sparrow mysteriously vanished, he was made captain.”
Duncan got up again and went into the bedroom, he came back and held out something for Joe to see. Joe went ice-cold, seeing the golden four-leaf clover pin, the metal leaves still withered.
Cautiously, Joe picked up the small pin and as he did so, the leaves seemed to uncurl and smooth out until the pin looked normal again. Joe blinked, not sure he’d really seen it change. An odd sort of wind swept through the room although no windows were open. Joe shivered and went pale. “Oh...”
“I remember...” Frank whispered, feeling choked up. “I saw the Jetski explode but I couldn’t find you. I couldn’t...” Frank slowly sank back down on the couch, as if his legs couldn’t support him. “Mom was...”
Joe sat down beside his brother. “Frank, I’m here. I think it was meant to be. All of it. Even the nightmares and confusion.” He looked at the four-leaf clover pin in his hand. “The sisters said they were witches – real witches...”
Frank gave Duncan a dazed look. “There is no logic to this at all, is there?”
Duncan slowly shook his head. “Logic can only get us so far, Frank,” he said, sounding weary, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.
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Disclaimer
The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.