John Locke - Now and then

As Philip got his wife onto the auction block, he displayed a wide, shit-eating grin and bade the crowd to gather near, since he was preparing to take bids. Hester's eyes searched the crowd, hoping to spot Thomas Griffin, but there were too many people. From behind her, a crude boy of about nine jumped onto the block and lifted the back of her skirt with one hand and held his nose with the other as his friends hooted and jeered. Philip laughed and swatted at the boy in a playful manner, which did nothing to dissuade him from raising Hester's dress again, and higher. Soon, half a dozen brats were taking turns spanking her rump Finally Philip called an end to the abuse.

"Who'll offer me a crown?"

"Does her privates work?" one man shouted.

Hester squeezed her eyes shut and reminded herself a better life was moments away.

"Her privates?" Philip said. "They work right well, mate, if your equipment be long enough to reach the prize." He gave an exaggerated stage wink and received some scattered chortling in return.

"Does she cook?" said another.

"She ain't the worst I've et," Philip said.

"How much discount are you offering for that face?" the fishmonger's wife yelled out.

"Already factored in the bidding, Missus. Why, are you interested in marryin' her yourself?" Philip made a lewd gesture and the crowd laughed.

Hester was thankful Philip had made Abby stay home. Thomas Griffin had obviously changed his mind, and now that she thought about it, why wouldn't he? He was a respectable businessman with a shop on the far side of the square. If he purchased her he'd be a laughing stock. Hester hadn't considered that possibility the three times she let him take her behind the counter. Ah well, men lied. What could she do about it now but accept her fate.

"I'll give the crown," someone said.

Hester opened her eyes and found the bidder, a young man, twenty at most, with curly brown hair and a lopsided grin that showed some gnarled brown teeth. Half his face was puckered from a fire, and he was missing an ear on that side. But he had broad shoulders and looked strong, and seemed kind.

Hester smiled at him.

"See that, son? She likes you!"

Someone else offered a sovereign, someone Hester couldn't see from her vantage point. She thought how strange it would be if she wound up married to someone she'd never even seen before.

"How 'bout it son?" Philip said to the curly haired boy. "Can you beat a sovereign?"

Hester looked at him hopefully. He might not be much to look at, she thought, but she had facial problems of her own, and no right to complain. This boy wasn't a Thomas Griffin in appearance or property, but he seemed a step above her husband.

The boy looked at Hester with sorrow in his eyes. He mouthed the words, "I'm sorry," and she nodded.

"Don't that just break your heart folks?" Philip said. "Is there no one here who'll lend this poor boy a few paltry coins to help him find his true love?"

"Can we work it out in trade?" said a crippled man with a scar on his scalp that was so large and had healed so poorly, it looked like he'd grown a colony of little pink mushrooms on his head.

Hester shuddered.

"Don't think she likes you, Grady," Philip said.

The crowd was calm for a moment. Grady's head had that effect on people.

"How's her titties?" said a large man with a serious facial tick and a hole where his left eye should have been.

"Well if it ain't One-Eyed Charlie Fine!" Philip said. "What're you doin' in town when all them privateers be in port up yonder?"

"You'll know soon enough why I'm here and not there," Charlie Fine said. "But if this iron-headed bitch has titties to make up for that god awful face, she might be worth a piece of eight."

The crowd murmured with amazement. Pieces of eight were Spanish silver coins of near perfect purity. A piece of eight represented a month of work for a common man of the time.

Philip Winter was stunned by the price. "You figure to put her to work at the whore house?"

"I do, if an eight'll buy her and her tits be fair."

Philip Winter licked his lips and looked at his wife. Hester shook her head no. Philip, proving he knew how to work a crowd, said, "Who else here wants to see her tits?"

The crowd went wild and Philip approached his wife.

Before he got there, a shot rang out. Everyone froze for a split-second, then ducked for cover. The man who'd shot his pistol into the dirt looked like a crazed drunk. His fiery red hair was matted with manure and he had enormous red muttonchops that were caked with dried vomit. When he spoke, his voice was gravely but firm.

Charlie Fine's face went white. He approached Pim and whispered, "What the hell're you doin' here?"

"Back off, Charlie," Pim said. "I ain't in the business no more, so I'm free to be here." To the auctioneer, Pim said, "I'll give you a solid gold Spanish doubloon."

The crowd jumped to their feet as one, oohing and aahing. Hester searched Pim's face for guile and his eyes for sanity.

Philip Winter said, "That's very funny, Mister…what's your name?"

"My surname's Pim, and that's how I'm called. I'll buy this beautiful woman and treat her like the lady I know she be."

"Well now, no offense intended, Pim, but you appear to be a common drunk, with no resources, other than a pocket pistol you had no legal right to discharge. Someone haul him out of here."

Pim held a doubloon high over his head and walked to the edge of the auction block. He held it where Philip could get a good look at the coin. The doubloon was a staggering sum of money, worth sixteen pieces of eight, or sixteen months' wages for a working man.

"Sold!" Philip said, grabbing the doubloon. "I'd stay and have a drink to celebrate your purchase, but I've pressing business back at my house." He walked behind Hester and pushed her fanny so hard she fairly flew off the platform and into Pim's arms.

Somewhere above the crowd a girl screamed "No!"

Jack and Abby Winter had ridden into town on his horse so she could watch her mother be sold. While Jack spoke to Pim, Abby made her way to the lodging house. Now they watched the humiliating spectacle while standing at an open window on the second floor there. When Pim bought Hester, Abby screamed again. Jack tried to calm her down before someone decided to summon the authorities.

"She's been bought by a homeless drunk!" Abby wailed. "Now what will become of my Mum?"

"She'll be fine," Jack said.

"What? Fine? Can you possibly be this stupid? Just look at him down there, trying to talk to her. She must be terrified. See how she turns her face away from his rancid breath."

Jack was far more concerned about why Charlie Fine was in town. As Abby watched her mother, Jack's eyes tracked Charlie walking through the crowd, saw him grab the arm of Mayor Shrewsbury's aide, Barton Pike. When Jack saw Charlie pointing at Pim, he started running.

"Where are you going? Come back!" Abby yelled.

"Don't move! I'll be right back," Jack called over his shoulder.

He hit the stairs running, and made it to the courtyard in seconds. As he passed Pim, he pretended to wave at someone in the square, but said, "Pim, Hester, go to the lodging house. Second Floor. Run!"

Pim grabbed Hester by the arm and said, "Sorry, darlin', but trouble's afoot. Run!" They ran across the courtyard with Hester still in the halter with her hands tied. As the gawkers in the crowd watched them run, Jack doubled around the town square and came up behind Charlie and Barton Pike. He followed them as they went around the corner and approached the alley Jack knew would take them to the back entrance of Commander Dowling's quarters.

Jack followed the men into the alley and called their names. By the time they turned, he was upon them. He plunged a knife into Pike's rib and raked it sideways. Pike went down quietly, and when he hit the street, he was there to stay. One-Eyed Charlie Fine, by nature a nervous man, began shaking with fear. He fell to his knees and begged for mercy. Jack pulled him behind an empty water barrel.