The next morning Captain Malarkey did not come to breakfast.  Nanny checked on him and told Mona, Lucie, and the Captain’s crew that he didn’t feel well.  The girls and the sailors all wanted to check on him and, despite Nanny’s protests, everyone ran upstairs. The Captain’s covers were pulled tight around his body and though he shivered, perspiration shone on his face.  The room was so stuffed with sailors that after a great deal of shuffling, dodging, and weaving, several feet seemed to be on top of each of Mona’s.  She let out a bleat because, of course, she was barefoot and many of the sailors wore shoes.  Nanny, who had followed everyone else up the stairs, glared at the sailors.

​

“Alright, there are too many people in here,” said Nanny, “all of you downstairs and start some fish broth.  The poor Captain can hardly breathe.  You can come back and visit the Captain in smaller groups.”  The sailors grumbled, but they listened to Nanny, and filed out of the room.  Mona felt close to tears.  She did not leave with the sailors, instead she sat on the bed.  Lucie and Nanny watched her.

“Poor Captain!  What’s wrong?” asked Mona.

“Sailor’s disease,” he croaked.

“Sailor’s disease?” said Lucie, “that sounds made up.”  The Captain glared at Lucie and let out a great groan.

“Yer right, yer right, Lucie.  Yer a sharp one,” said the Captain as he pointed a finger at Lucie, “I’m cursed,” he whispered and then put a hand to his forehead and rolled over in a very dramatic way.  Lucie's eyes widened and her mouth formed an O.  In addition to pirates, Lucie had a weakness for the supernatural and superstitions.

​

“How’d you catch it?” asked Mona.

“It’s their fault…dishonest, cursed treasure,” came the Captain's voice from under his pillow.  Something that sounded not quite, but almost like a laugh muffled by a cough came from the corner where Nanny stood near the door.  Mona looked again.  She blinked.

“Hmm,” said Nanny and pursed her lips. “Nonsense” she muttered, but her lips trembled slightly and Mona imagined the words, “I told you so”, were struggling to burst forth, but were suppressed by Nanny’s well-bred, strong jaws.  Instead, Nanny raised an eyebrow and said, “So you are sick because of dishonesty.”  A barely perceptible smirk had now reached the corners of her mouth. 

“No, those…cursed, the jewels was cursed.” 

Nanny smoothed her apron with slow, deliberate strokes. “Captain, what you call a curse, I call your conscience. Think about that, while I bring your breakfast.” Nanny started around the bed to exit the room.  Mona frowned at Nanny.  To Mona, it seemed the Captain was sick and deserved sympathy regardless of the reason.

​

After a moment of silence, the Captain sat up before Nanny was through the door.

“Now, now, there’s no need to worry over me,” he said. 

“Is that so?” said Nanny. 

“There’s cures for curses.”

“I think we should send for the chaplain.  He’ll make you feel better.  You can tell him all about your adventures and your new, related illness,” said Nanny.

“Oh no, I’ll not be havin’ him,” said Captain Malarkey. “Wouldn’t know a curse if it hit’m in the head.”

“But Captain, are you sure you’re not just sick?  How about the doctor?” asked Mona.  Lucie and the Captain looked at Mona incredulously.  Even Nanny raised her eyebrows.

The Captain was taken aback.  He shook his head.  “The doctor!  Rubbish!  Do ya mean ta tell me Miss Mona—”

He leaned forward.  “Haven’t ya heard about when yer father was a boy on the beach of the Blackberry Isles and he stepped on a splinter from a cursed ship.  The splinter never came out, and in the spot where the splinter was, the Jolly Roger was etched plain as day on his foot.  After that, I always thought he turned a bit pirate on stormy evenin’s.  Just do me the courtesy of waitin’ it out.  Ye’ll see.”

As they left the room, Nanny muttered something about honesty and pursed her lips, but didn’t call the chaplain or the doctor, as the Captain wished.

​

Over the next two days, the Captain worsened.  He couldn’t eat anything but fish broth.  After Nanny realized the Captain was actually sick and it was not just in his head, she tried each and every one of the colorful medicines in the bathroom cabinet to no effect. She seemed to feel quite bad about not believing him at first and brought him a large, hearty sailor’s breakfast on a fine silver tray every morning.  He touched nothing she brought him on those trays, and only swallowed the fish broth she brought up in the evenings, sinking back into his pillows after a few swallows.

Mona often sat and read to him, but she could tell he couldn’t listen as he tossed and turned in his sweat-stained nightclothes.  Many of the sailors came to visit.  Though the Captain’s sickness was a serious affair, Mona sometimes felt like laughing when she saw the crew in the Captain’s room, with their hats off, looking as though they might cry.  She did not believe they had a mutiny in them. 

A week later, Mona had just put down the book she was reading aloud when Nanny came in and set the tray down with a clatter.

​

Oh Captain, won’t you see the doctor?” she said, in exasperation.

His eyelids fluttered up and both Nanny and Mona saw his glazed eyes, but the Captain grinned.  There was sweat on his forehead.  “Don’t ya worry, you two.  The cure’s comin’ and this’ll blow over.  Just a bad storm.”  Then he closed his eyes, turned over, and sank back into fitful sleep.  Nanny shook her head. She and Mona took the tray back downstairs.

“Is there anything we can do?”  Mona asked Nanny back downstairs. 

Nanny frowned. “I’ll send for the doctor tomorrow regardless of the Captain’s wishes. Maybe the chaplain, too.  A clean conscience never hurt anyone.”

​

Lucie came over soon afterwards. 

“How’s the Captain?” she asked, as she sat down next to Mona at the kitchen table.

“Worse. Nanny’s sending for the doctor tomorrow.”

Lucie shook her head. “Doesn’t she believe that story about your father?”

“Guess not. Nanny’s not the type to believe in curses. She thinks it’s sickness complicated by conscience.”

“Well,” said Lucie, “my father wrote a story about a curse once. It was pretty good. In the story, a cure got dreamed up for the accursed hero. I think you’re going to have to dream up a cure for Captain Malarkey.”

“Why me?  Could you do it?”  asked Mona.  Lucie looked at Mona in surprise.

“Oh gosh, no.  Sorry, Mona.  I couldn’t do it.  It just wouldn’t work.  I’m not in the same house as the Captain and you and him are good friends and...oh no, it would never work.”

“Ok, ok,” said Mona with a shrug.  She did not follow Lucie’s logic, but it seemed pointless to argue about it, “how do I make myself dream up a cure?”

​

Lucie leaned forward and whispered, “Incense. You have to burn a lot of incense, eat a chunk of raw fish, and bury a piece of the cursed object under your pillow. Then the curse is compelled to tell you its cure, or at least that’s how it happened in the story.”

“I don’t know.  That sounds very silly,” said Mona.

“The Captain’s life is in your hands,” said Lucie. 

“Oh, alright!  I’ll do it, but you have to help me.”

“We’d better get some fish. We can go fishing!” said Lucie.

“There’s some in the freezer.”

“That’s not good enough it’s got to be fresh.” Mona looked up at her friend and raised her eyebrows.  She preferred to complete whatever Lucie’s plan required with the least possible number of steps.  Lucie shrugged, “alright, we can use frozen fish.” Mona got up and moved toward the freezer.

​

“Not yet,” cried Lucie, “we need to get the incense and the cursed object.” Mona rolled her eyes. They had a hard time finding incense.

“I hate the smell of incense,” said Nanny, “it smells like dust, and you know how I hate that, Mona dear. Why do you want some?”

“No reason,” said Lucie and Mona together.

“You both seem awfully suspicious, but go look for your incense on the Captain’s ship, and mind, when you find it, not to burn the house down.” 

​

Any sailors not at Pearly Beetle could be found lounging about their ship. The seamen did not seem to know what to do with themselves. Although Nanny gave them tasks to cheer them up, she did not have enough things to do around Pearly Beetle to keep a whole ship of sailors occupied.

Lucie and Mona explained their errand to the sailors. The sailors, who were a superstitious lot, were excited to hear about Lucie’s plan.  They located a member of the crew who had incense.  He went into his room and came back with  a small box that gave off a strong fragrant aroma. He opened it up and offered a long stick, thick at one end, and smelling of sandlewood.

“Well, I bought this as a gift.  There’s a girl back home. She likes old records and she smells nice-kind of like the old records.  I thought of her when I smelled this and bought it.  It smells like moonlight too, you know like the song?  It seems romantic and-”  The sailor frowned at the girls as Lucie stifled a yawn.

​

“Anyway, I’d rather not open it, but since it’ll help the Captain, I don’t think she’ll mind if I gave you one stick.”  They thanked the sailor.  He frowned again and waved, but didn’t say anything else to them.

Next, the girls set off to get a cursed object, in this case, a piece of treasure.

“Don’t touch it direct since it’s cursed and all,” said Lucie, when they had reached the bottom of the ship and stood gazing at the treasure. 

It was impressive even in the half-dark.  Large piles swelled like blisters out of the ship’s otherwise clear-complexioned floor.  Lucie leaned forward with a handkerchief, and grabbed a small gold coin.  She wrapped the coin several times over and put it in her pocket.  Mona clutched the incense stick. She looked at Lucie, who nodded resolutely. They headed back to the Pearly Beetle.

​

“Also, when you find out what the cure is, you need to go by yourself to get it,” said Lucie when they had arrived back at Pearly Beetle and had reached Mona’s room.

“Can Manx come?” asked Mona. 

Lucie reflected on the matter. 

“Well, in my father’s story, I think there was a dog.  Manx can come, but no one else.”

The girls set a vase on Mona’s window sill. They carefully lit the tip of the incense stick. A few codfish sat wrapped in a newspaper on the wood floor. Their steady smell, mixed with the incense, made Mona queasy.  Manx pawed at the door.

​

“Do we have to say anything special?”  Mona asked.

“Like what?”

Mona stood up and closed her eyes.  “Oh, curse of the four oceans and seven seas, give me the key to your cure.”

“That’ll probably help,” said Lucie.  She pulled apart the newspapers and handed Mona a piece of the cod,  “Some people like it better raw.”

Mona didn’t respond.  She held her nose and closed her eyes.  With her other hand, she dropped the chunk into her mouth and swallowed.  “Ick,” she said and wiped her mouth with the side of her hand. “Can we put out the incense now?  It makes me sick.”

“Alright,” agreed Lucie. “Don’t forget to think real hard about the Captain and about his illness tonight before you go to bed.  And you should unwrap this.   She pointed to the coin.  Just be careful and drop it under your pillow, and then tomorrow, put it back where we found it.” 

Lucie handed over the wrapped treasure piece.  Mona sighed, but she did what Lucie told her.  Then they put out the incense, and went downstairs.  Mona rinsed her mouth out, and had a piece of beech nut cake.  Her mood was improved and she felt better after that cake.