Jeff the Accountant Escapes the Wretched Burning Depths of Hades

Paintings By The Widow Bonnett, Part 3

Edward Teach drew the interest of more than a few of the fine citizens of Bridgetown, Barbados as he walked through the town.

"That's him. That's the man who asked Miss Bailey for a bit of paper" a young boy said to his mother.

"That's fine, James. Come along now."

Edward's garb was mostly black leather. Frenchie was in the process of mending and repurposing the pieces that...got damaged. Until they were ready, Blackbeard's choices were limited. He missed the silky feel of some of Frenchie's creations. But he was comfortable. He still felt like himself. Something he had struggled with for awhile.

It may have taken some time, he may have confused those around him, hurt people who didn't deserve it. But Blackbeard was becoming more and more himself every day.

And, as himself, Edward wasn't sure what to expect when he walked into Mary's studio. He quietly went from one painting to another, imagining the conversations he and Stede would be having. The pride Stede might show. It was his wife's work, after all. How would their lives have intermingled if Stede..."

Ed saw it. The painting of Stede's tombstone. He couldn't stop himself. He reached out to touch it.

"Mary, should I say something to that man?" Gracie nodded in Blackbeard's direction. She was concerned about the painting getting damaged.

Mary and Doug looked towards Edward. "I'll go" Mary said, intrigued by the stranger who had found the painting of Stede's "gravesite".

"Not many people make their way back here to this one" Mary said.

Edward slowly turned his head, Mary's words coaxing him back to the here and now. Not the here and now of his pain and emptiness without Stede, but the here and now of standing in his wife's studio, staring at a painting of his tombstone.

He had tears in his eyes.

Mary knew at once. "You're him. You're Ed."

"You know me?" Blackbeard said.

"Stede told me about you" Mary answered gently. She took a handkerchief from her pocket and handed it to him. "I'm Mary."

"Stede told you about me?...When? When was he here?...He told you about me? What did he say?"

"Mary?" Doug came to join them.

"Doug, this...is Ed."

"You're, you're Ed? Stede's Ed?" Doug said in disbelief.

"You know me?" Blackbeard said, confusion getting the better of him. But he did like the sound of the phrase "Stede's Ed".

"Ed , this is my husband, Doug." Mary and Doug married after a respectable amount of time following Stede's "death".

"You don't look so good, Ed. Do you want to..."

Blackbeard nearly collapsed. But Doug was able to help him to a chair. Some of the other attendees had noticed the leather-clad stranger. Now they saw him seemingly sequestered in the back of Mary's studio.

"Tongues will be wagging tomorrow," thought Evelyn. "Mary, Doug, everything okay?" she asked, sincerely trying to help.

"Yes, Evie. This, this is an old friend of Stede's. He's just a little emotional over the painting."

"I'll get you some water" Evelyn offered. When she came back with the glass, Blackbeard had regained some of his composure.

"Thank you" he said. "You're very kind." He was clearly weighed down with the emotions he was feeling.

"Doug, do you think..." Mary started.

"Ed, would you like to come to the house with me? You can rest in the guest room for awhile - for as long as you need." Doug finished.

"Honestly, mate," Blackbeard said "I'd rather not walk past all these fine people while I'm in this state.

"No worries. There's another exit. Right here." Doug led him out the back door and into the house.

"Mary said you're her husband. Is this your house?" Edward asked, looking around.

"Well, no. I mean, this was Mary's house, when we..."

"Mary's and Stede's" Blackbeard said. "You know? I don't feel anything like what I thought I'd feel, walking into his house."

"I guess I didn't think that much about walking into his house, period." He sat in a chair Doug motioned to. "Thought we'd have a house of our own. A ship of our own, rather. But it just wasn't in the cards."

Blackbeard looked up at Doug. "He's dead, you see."

Doug listened with interest and sympathy, feeling sick to his stomach with the secret he was holding.

"I think I would like to lie down. If that's alright." Ed said, standing up.

"Of course" Doug led him to the guest room. He turned the covers down on the bed and left him to make himself comfortable. When he returned with a pitcher of water and matches for the candle on the bedside table, Edward was asleep.