A funny kind of friendship
43
“So what name are you going by these days?” Anney said, as she followed the man into the back of the shop, into a small but neat office. There was a desk on which were some indistinct papers along pack of cigars and a bottle of rum. The room was furnished with various drawers and cabinets made out of burnt wood, and in the corner there was a metal hat-stand, upon which was perched a white top-hat, beside which was an ivory walking cane.
“Kwame Bawon, at your service,” he rasped, with a bow. He poured two glasses of rum and handed one to Anney, and then took out a cigar and lit it. “I would offer you one, but I’ve already given you a chicken leg for free, and these cost a lot more than a dollar fifty.”
“That’s fine, I quit.” Anney downed the rum in one gulp, and Kwame unblinkingly poured her another.
“Your friend is lost...” he said after a pause, blowing out a large plume of cigar smoke. “I can feel her screaming.”
“Stop it,” Anney said quietly. “I had no choice.”
“Of course, of course. Forgive me. But Marissa...that was her name wasn’t it? I have heard tale that she was a fellow pirate.”
Anney rolled her eyes. “Not this again. Have you been talking with Miss Charlotte? She downloaded some music off the Grid without paying. She’s not a pirate!”
“Miss Charlotte? Haha, no, I have no business with her. But I did encounter Pebble recently, and he said that-“
“Wait, Pebble? Who’s Pebble?”
Kwame told her who Pebble was, and Anney raised her eyebrows. “Ah.”
“Yes, and he filled me in.” He laughed raucously, his face almost lost amid billowing smoke. “Quite a little mess he’s gotten you into, I must say.”
Anney blinked a couple of times, and shook her head. “Well whatever, my ship...I got a ship, you see, it takes me to places. An’ it brought me to New Orleans, when I was willing it to go to Charleston. I figured if anyone knew why, it’d be you.”
“Okay, but I need a bit more than that. I’m not omniscient, as much as it pains me to admit! Why were you going to Charleston?”
Anney reached over and grabbed the now half empty bottle of rum, and poured another glass. “To see my family.”
“Your family is dead.”
“Well yeah you
would focus on that. They have gravestones, though. No, I buried a map, deep underneath the old house I lived in with my husband, hidden in an old-style wooden chest. It leads to the most precious treasure that any living thing could dream of, the ultimate prize.”
Kwame perked up, and coughed. “So what do you need me for?”
“I need the key. I...mislaid it, some time back. It’s a couple inches long, with an ouroboros pattern-you know, snake eating its own tail. Unmistakeable. I thought it would be somewhere near Charleston, but I guess these things have a way of getting around. Would I be right in thinking that you have recently come into possession of a mysterious key?”
Kwame’s face gave nothing away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh come on! Either you have it, or one of your associates does. If it’s in this town, you know about it, and I know it is because I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“Ouroboros pattern, you say? Well okay maybe I do have such a key, but I want a cut of the treasure. Say 30%?”
“Wrong sorta treasure, I’m afraid.”
“What do you mean?”
“Not all treasure is silver and gold, my friend. Listen, I really need that key!”
“And I need some kind of recompense for my assistance.” Kwame stood up, and went to the hat-stand. He picked up the top-hat, and placed it on his head as if it were a crown. He smiled lustily. “Would you care for a dance, Miss Bonny?”
Anney stumbled to her feet, and Kwame caught her before she fell and swept her up in his arms. She laughed stupidly. “I was never very good at dancing.”
“Really? That’s a shame,” said Kwame as he held her close, with a wink, “because I’m fantastic.” He raised his brow suggestively. “But I do take payment in other forms. You know, they say that dancing, in its most basic form, is a primal mating ritual...”
His hands wandered towards her chest, but before he could get any further Anney reached out and grabbed the ivory cane. She walloped him hard across the side, sending him crumpling to the ground. He looked up in wide-eyed astonishment, and Anney knelt down beside him and grinned. “Come on, you didn’t think I’d get drunk off what, five glasses of rum?” She smiled pleasantly, and said in her sweetest voice, “Now tell me where the key is, or I’ll...well, I’ll take this cane somewhere a lot more painful.”
“Fine,” he managed, fully believing that she would do it, “I do have such a key. It’s in the desk drawer, top left.”
“Thank you!” A moment later Anney had the key, and as she passed him on her way to the door she gave a little dance. Kwame was sat against the wall, still wearing the hat, and he couldn’t help but laugh. Anney stopped at the threshold, and turned. “Oh, and because you were so co-operative, I think it’s only right I should give some kind of payment after all. How does my soul sound?”
“Your...soul?”
“Yep. You can have what’s left of it come Fet Gede. Ah, I love these little meetings we have, don’t you? Well, anyway, seeya, old friend. Until next time!”
He tipped his hat and winked. “Until next time.”
Once Anney had left the shop, Kwame got to his feet and dusted himself off. Then he smiled widely, and placed the top-hat back on the hat-stand. “Anne Bonny’s soul... That will do nicely.”
