Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3 Nate stood very still. "Are you a pirate?" Nate asked. "Yes," the voice said. "A pie-wit. I want my tweasure." Nate's heart lifted up. He whirled around to face his attacker: three-year-old Theo, Eliza's little boy. He was waving

his pirate sword — a spindly stick from the cherry tree. Theo was supposed to be napping — and out of Storch's sight. But here he was, wide awake. "You are very fierce!" Nate told his friend. Theo stood proudly, his brown eyes gleaming like polished gold. He'd been wild about pirates for months now, ever since Nate started telling him stories about his adventures at sea. Theo waved his stick sword. "Aargh!" he shouted out in his most pirate-like voice. Nate grabbed Theo around the waist and picked him up. Theo's happy giggles rose up, whooshing over Nate like a breeze. Seconds later Eliza came rushing out of the house, her skirt swirling around her shoes. Eliza had Theo's same dark brown skin and big, bright eyes. But unlike Theo, Eliza wasn't smiling. "You both need to hush!" she warned, looking toward the house. "You know what he could do if

he hears!" He, of course, was Storch. He had no patience for giggling, and even less for Theo himself. Eliza's worst nightmare was that Storch would sell Theo, just like he'd sold Eliza's husband, Gregory, a few months before Nate arrived. Eliza rarely talked about Gregory — it hurt her too much, Nate knew. But she had told Nate a few things about her husband — that he was joyful like Theo and had those same bright eyes, that not one hour went by without her missing him.

What a fool Nate was, getting Theo all riled up! Luckily Storch was probably too busy cursing George Washington to notice Theo's giggles. "Mama," Theo said very quietly. "I a pie-wit." Eliza's eyes softened, and she and Nate shared a little smile. "Even pirates have to be quiet," Eliza said, kissing Theo on the nose. "Or they get into trouble."

Storch's voice bellowed from the house. "Cake!" "I'll keep this pirate out of trouble," Nate promised. Eliza rushed inside to serve Storch and his friend. Theo put his face close to Nate's. "Tell a pie-wit story!" Theo begged. "Tell about Slash!" Slash was Slash O'Shea, the greatest living pirate. Nate had grown up hearing Papa's stories about Slash. And Nate had shared most of them with Theo. Slash got his name from the dagger strapped to the stump where his hand used to be. Some pirates were nothing more than low-life thieves. They captured ships and stole everything they could. They murdered anyone who got in their way. Not Slash. He'd never killed a man. And he gave some of his treasure away — mostly to orphans. He'd sneak into cities disguised in

ragged beggar's clothes and hand out gold coins to kids living on the streets. "I'll tell you a Slash story later," said Nate. "How about a song?" A grin spread across Theo's face. He loved when Nate sang shanties — the songs sailors crooned as they did their work. Nate sang Theo one of Papa's favorites, about the sun rising up over the sea. Soon enough Theo's eyes were closed. Nate gently pried the stick-sword from Theo's hand. He lifted his little friend up and carried him to a soft patch of grass. Then Nate went back to his weeds and worms. Storch and Marston had finished their cake and were puffing on cigars. They were still talking about the war. "Don't worry, my friend; this war will be over soon," Storch was saying. "The king sent hundreds of ships. The big battle is coming any