Jonah's Responsibility

Chapter 2:

Jonah’s Responsibility

 

 

 Cyrus walked to the edge of the Ono Forest, the trees were dense. The sunlight strained through little holes in the canopy here and there, allowing small streams of sunlight through to the leaves and debris that covered the forest’s ground. Cyrus’ bare foot pressed on the broken twigs and crispy leaves, he stepped forward, dark eyes open and ears alert to danger. Long strings of ivy climbed their way up the thick trunks of trees.

 The birds chirped above Cyrus’ head, the walls of trees lined his pathway through the dense forest as he tried to make his way to the Pinch Mountain range. His destiny waited beyond those mountains, he could feel it. He scanned the canopy, his pale skin dripped with beads of sweat from the heat and humidity of the greenhouse that was the Ono Forest. Cyrus’ dark hair fell to his shoulders, greasy and sweaty; he combed the stray strands from his eyes.

 Cyrus stopped at a bush’s side; he examined the red berries growing on the surface. The young Winch boy picked them and felt them roll against his fingertips. He squished one between his thumb and forefinger, and watched the red juice run down his hand. Cyrus sniffed the berry before tasting it with the tip of his tongue. There was the green light, he opened a small pocket of cloth wrapped around his waist and began filling it with the red berries.

 The trees were quiet; every now and then Cyrus would hear a movement rustling the leaves amongst the wood. Though nothing put his life in danger, Cyrus got the feeling he was being watched. He gripped the spear tight; he turned on the spot to find the danger.

 A flash of a figure ran past his left, Cyrus ran. The figure gave chase, crunching the leaves and twigs on the ground. Cyrus ducked and weaved his way through the tangle of branches without losing speed as they scraped scratches over his pale skin, drawing blood that spattered on the leaves that surrounded him. He skidded to a stop at the bank of a river. The frothing rapids raged in front of his dark eyes. He turned, with his back to the river now he waited, the spear pointing at the mouth of the trees.

 A twig snapped somewhere in the darkness. Cyrus breathed hard, his chest heaved and his heart pounded but he was ready. A foot wrapped in olive skin came into view, not animal but human. Then a face, small framed and beautiful, a young girl came out of the shadows and into the light of the clearing. She smiled a sheepish smile.

 Cyrus lowered his spear, he stood up straight and looked deeper into the girl’s eyes, they sparkled a bright blue. Cyrus had never seen a female before. His village was home to boys and elders only.

 The girl’s eyes flashed before leaving. Cyrus’ brow furrowed, he placed a step forward but hesitated, instead he turned back to the river. Ahead of the trees, across the river, Cyrus could see the Pinch Mountain range.

 

 

 “Vic Isle, Jonah, do ya know how difficult it is to get there?” Rex spoke; she sat opposite her brother at the dinner table, food from Doc’s kitchen covered the table cloth. Jonah cut the turtle meat on his dish; he stuffed the meat into his mouth.

 “Aye, course I do sis, but think about it, with this gold we can retire, set sail to some island in the middle of nowhere and never have to sack another ship �" unless we be wantin’ to of course.” He smiled broadly before savouring the taste of the turtle, “oh Doc, you’re a genius.”

 “Do ya know what’s at Vic Isle?”

 Jonah rolled his eyes at his sister.

 “Stories, myths, legends sis, don’t take ‘em too seriously. It’s not real.”

 “No one ever comes out alive.”

 “Shh,” Jonah stood and walked to the door, he opened it and checked his crew weren’t around with burning ears. “Don’t be sayin’ things like that; don’t be scarin’ the crew with your damned stories of ghosts and demons.”

 “They deserve to know what’s out there. Jonah, you can’t send ‘em in blind.”

 “So, what? We’re supposed to scare ‘em out of this job? Out of this, treasure? We haven’t had a good sack in months. I for one won’t let my crew pass without leavin’ their names scrawled on the parchment of history.”

 Rex sat in silence, a small tear found the corner of her eye. Jonah reminded her of someone she knew a long time ago, of someone died fighting to be a name.

 “Jonah, don’t be that man, Pa died trying to be famous, he tore Ma’s heart apart.”

 “Why not Rex? After all, we are pirates, scum, scallywags, this is what we do ain’t it? We will do anythin’ to be famous, an’ no one can stand in our way.” Jonah’s voice had risen to shouting level.

 “Do not shout at me brother.” Rex banged her hand on the table as she stood.

 “I’m tryin’ to do what’s best for our crew an’ for us.”

 “You’ll get ‘em killed, and us. Ma wouldn’t want that.”

 “Well Ma’s not here! Rex I’m doin’ the best I can, its alrigh’ for you, he didn’t leave you in charge.”

 Rex’s face sank, she snarled before leaving the room, slamming the door as she left.

 Jonah combed his hands through his hair and sighed. Pa had left him with this responsibility, not Rex. She wasn’t there, she doesn’t know.

‘Jonah, it’s yours, you’re in charge now, look after your sis and take what ya can.’

Jonah could still remember his dirty face with dark eyes looking up into his own. The toothless grin he smiled before his final breath scarred Jonah’s eyes.

 “Ya fool Jonah,” he looked up to the wooden boards across his ceiling, “how am I supposed to be both?”

 

 

 Cyrus had made it to the mouth of the forest and the base of the Pinch Mountain Range; the cliffs loomed in front of his eyes. He thought, he should try to find shelter for the night and climb the cliffs tomorrow, he didn’t want to be caught half way up and the sun died. Cyrus breathed a long and heavy breath. He would need better clothing as well, the mountains had snow ready for him, and Cyrus’ small frame would never survive in those temperatures.

 Cyrus turned back; he stopped on the outskirts of the forest and gathered branches and large leaves. He took a thorn from a berry bush and using the ivy that stalked the bark on the thunderous trees, he began to stitch together a tent. He hung the makeshift shelter from tree to tree, gathered some dried roots and branched and lit a fire. He pulled out the berries from his cloth. Tomorrow, Cyrus will look for food, and warm clothing.