Wicked Runaway: A Mark Cannidor Adventure

Chapter Four (Part One)

Whatever happened to Mark was all unclear. One minute, he was stood face to face with Captain Sigourney Malcheffi, accused of a crime he was not involved with. The next thing he knew, everything was pitch black, he was barely conscious, and he was locked inside a darkened room. A blanket covered him, and he was on a stiff mattress laid on a wooden bench. It was rather uncomfortable. Everything was a blur. He had no idea where he was, save the fact that there was a loud swooshing sound from somewhere outside, like something was crashing against the walls of the place he was in. He also felt the sensation of bobbing up and down. A strange sensation, considering the fact that he was clueless to his exact location.

This definitely was not plain sailing.

If Mark didn’t know any better, he would have thought he was in the middle of sea.

What exactly happened to him?

And what had happened to his father? Edward had been with him previously. Now he wasn’t. Could he have been put into another room? He must be somewhere? Perhaps on this ship. Hopefully.

Was there a way to get the word out to his mother?

Mark dreaded to think.

He had to get out of here. He had to find his father. One way or another, the would be reunited. And they would find a way out together.

Sooner or later. He had to make it his mission to get off the ship and find his way back to England.

What would Malcheffi want with Edward Cannidor anyhow? It was a fine way to pay someone for the work they did. Mark felt a chill down his spine as he realised that, if Edward Cannidor was dead at all, his mother was stuck at home without any knowledge of what had happened. Just how long would it take for her to react to this? Would she seek them? Would she send an alert out to the villagers? Surely, something like this could not go unnoticed.

Mark wanted to sit up, move about, but his body felt so numb, it almost seemed impossible to do anything. He tried to move his fingers, his toes, his hands, arms, legs…he was frozen solid. How could this be? How did he get into this state? Was he paralyzed? Injured? Or was it because he was so uncomfortable? He didn’t know how long he had been there, but he had to try to leave.

Unexpectedly, there were footsteps approaching him. A moment later, a curtain opened.

It was the woman who tried to stop Captain Malcheffi from attacking him. He felt sick. He was furious.

‘You!’

‘Shhh!’

The woman offered Mark a bread roll with some butter.

‘Eat this. You’ll need it’.

Overcome with relief,

Mark so desperately wanted to reach out and grab the roll. But he was stuck. He couldn’t move. He struggled with all his might, but he couldn’t feel a single bone or muscle inside his body.

‘Has he…what the hell…?’

‘Sorry...I had forgotten...’

The woman was trying to urge Mark to stay still and remain calm, yet Mark didn’t know what was going on. He tried with all his might to wriggle himself free. But it was almost as if he had been frozen solid. He pleaded with the woman to set him free. Panicking, pleading for mercy, Mark moaned and tried tossing and turning. But he just couldn’t budge. Pain spread throughout his entire body while he tried to wriggle himself free. The woman could see a fear in his eyes, almost like someone who was close to a certain death. So, the woman took a thin stick of wood out of her pocket and pointed it at Mark.

‘Untangelo’.

Mark painfully felt every bone in his body come back to life. It was almost as though he had come back to life. He sat bolt upright, aching from the stiffness he had just encountered from the spell.

‘Sorry, it will be irritable for a little while at first,’ the woman explained. ‘The tangling charm always does that when it’s removed. It is such an uncomfortable experience. The first time it happened to me, I couldn’t move for days from all that agony. I would never wish that on any other living thing’.

‘How the bleeding hell did you just do that to me?!’ Mark asked, gasping, feeling every muscle spasm wildly as his body woke itself up again. He was astounded by what the woman had just done to him. Every bone and muscle in his body ached, and he felt as though he could collapse at any moment with all that mental energy drained from him.

‘Magic,’ the woman responded. ‘Long story. I’ll explain later’.

Mark nodded, struggling to understand how such a strange thing like magic could ever have gotten him into this position. Not long before, Mark would have thought that believing in magic was crazy. Whereas now, he just believed that he was crazy. How on earth could it be magic that had got him here?

‘Eat,’ the woman commanded, trying to urge him to eat the bread and butter into Mark’s empty hands. ‘It’ll help you to recover’.

Mark looked down at the roll of bread in his hands. He looked at it longingly, then listlessly devoured some of it, yet when he tried to swallow the food, it didn’t seem all that appetising. Perhaps it was because he had found himself in an unfamiliar place, an unfamiliar surrounding with little recollection of how he got there. Once the food hit the pit of his stomach, one thing was for certain – Mark felt sick with worry.

‘Who are you?’ Mark asked.

‘Oh, of course,’ the woman replied. ‘I’m Jayne. Jayne Malcheffi’.

Mark’s jaw dropped. The woman, Jayne, chuckled.

‘Relax, I’m not going to kill you,’ Jayne continued. ‘It’s been a job convincing my husband you’re innocent, I can tell you. He’s too set in his ways. Not always easy to get along with, as you may have seen already. He didn’t want children on the ship, but he took it all out of proportion when you embarked’.

Mark shook his head.

‘I didn’t do it,’ Mark said pleadingly, standing, ignoring the pain in his legs. ‘Whatever it was. I swear. It wasn’t me. I didn’t do anything’.

‘I know it wasn’t you,’ Jayne explained calmly. ‘Trust me. I know what the captain is like. If he sees something that he doesn’t like, he’ll work as hard as he can to convince everyone else otherwise. I’ve been married to that man for nearly twenty years. I’ve seen his games. He’s no fool, I can promise you that. Come to mention it, I think most of the people on this ship have seen his games. Wicked, if you ask me. But there you are'.

Mark’s mind was swimming with fear. Dreaded fear. Captain Malcheffi was an evil human being. He, Mark Cannidor, had been captured by Captain Malcheffi. His wife was sat opposite him. She was so kind, so thoughtful, so generous. The complete opposite to who Malcheffi was. What would happen to Jayne if the captain found her down here with Mark? Helping him to escape. Would she be in just as much danger as he was? He was starting to like this woman. He didn’t want to see her get hurt either.

‘I can tell you’re upset,’ Jayne said, standing up and studying him. ‘I am ever so sorry about all of this. I think I would be just as upset as you if I was in your position. I’ll leave you alone for a little while. Perhaps I could bring you some Pineapple Juice later? Yes – that normally cures the Tangelo charm. Feel free to find me if you need anything’.

Jayne was just about to leave. Only, Mark had a thought. If he could find his father, then he could find a way off this ship. Surely, his father could help with that, right?

‘Where is my father?’ Mark asked, standing up. He dropped the uneaten chunk of bread roll. ‘Edward Cannidor. Is he here? On this ship? Can I see him?’

Jayne turned round.

‘You’re Edward Cannidor’s boy?’

Mark nodded. Surely, she should have guessed that by now. Instead, she shook her head pitifully.

‘Oh, Mark…I am sorry. Your father…he was taken away…’

Mark gulped. Jayne bit her lip as she noticed how scared, hopeless and angry Mark must have felt.

‘Where are we?’ Mark croaked.

‘We’re at sea,’ Jayne responded, unable to avoid Mark’s questions any longer. ‘Naturally, I cannot tell you our precise location. However, we are on a course to Germany. We will return to England as soon as we can. And I promise that when we are finished, we will get you home as soon as we can’.

It was simply not a good enough answer. There was nothing more that could be said for the situation. Mark was on his own, away from his parents for the first time in his life, trapped on a ship in the middle of the sea. Who knew when he would be reunited with his parents? He could not tell exactly when he would return to England. He was on his own. He was stuck, he was afraid, angry, hurt. Lost. This was all his fault. If only he hadn’t boarded the ship in the first place.

Then again, this was Malcheffi’s fault just as much as it was his. All this was his doing. If he had just allowed Mark to step onto the ship with his father, perhaps none of this would have happened. Mark was trustworthy. If he could help the elderly in his community, the sure to goodness he could embark on a ship just like a normal guest. He had no intention of causing trouble for the people of the Lady Sinatra. Mark had surely proven himself of that. Then again, Malcheffi said it himself. No children on board this ship. Were children such a bother to the captain? Did Malcheffi have any negative experiences that he barred children from coming on board? Then again, there were other children on board before he even knew the ship existed. Perhaps they were the kids of the crew? Yes, that could have been it. Maybe Malcheffi had no choice but to let those children on because their parents worked for Malcheffi. Then again, Edward Cannidor was working for Malcheffi. And Mark was refused entry.

And what about So and Jay? Who exactly were they? Did Malcheffi have any knowledge of them? It was so unfair. Mark felt remarkably upset. He had been singled out for no reason.

No, Sigourney Malcheffi had been far too irrational for Mark’s liking. Mark wasn’t going to do any harm. All he wanted to see was a real-life ship. A working ship. Whatever the Lady Sinatra did was none of his concern. He was excited to at least set foot on the Lady Sinatra. Now that he got to see the ship, the novelty of travel had worn off already. The glorious idea of luxurious sea travel had been diminished by a horrible little man who clearly did not like Mark. Was it worth it? Was it really worth it in the end? Instead of politely asking him to leave, Malcheffi had taken the very liberty of k********g him and stealing him away from everything he loved. This was all Malcheffi’s fault. Mark was not in the wrong here.

And he was determined to prove his innocence.

His mind flooded with questions again. When would he be reunited with his parents? When will Mark be given the opportunity to return home? When will Mark see freedom? When will he see the outside of this cabin? What did he have to do to prove he was innocent?

‘I demand to speak to the captain!’ Mark shouted after Jayne. His fists were clenched. He was determined to have his questions answered.

‘Speak…I’m sorry…speak to the captain?’ Jayne asked nervously.

Mark simply nodded.

‘I don’t think that’s possible’.

‘That’s a lie!’ Mark spat.

‘Excuse me?’

‘I’m here against my will,’ Mark continued, rasping, with full knowledge that he was within his rights to a fair trial. ‘You know more than I do that I am no threat to anyone. I’m just a boy. Why would you treat me like this? I haven’t done anything wrong!’

Jayne refused to answer.

‘Please,’ Mark pleaded desperately. He just wanted a chance to prove himself.

‘No,’ Jayne continued, shaking her head lightly. ‘I am sorry, young man. I don’t think my husband will speak to you. In fact – I don’t think you are in any position to speak to anyone. At least, not after what you did. I’m sorry, but I will not allow you to make any further mistakes here’.

Mark’s teeth could have cracked. He was gritting them so hard, and he was angry. How could they deny him the truth? He hadn’t done anything wrong. He knew it, and so did they. What was so difficult about denying them the truth?

‘I want to get out of here,’ Mark demanded.

Jayne studied Mark once again, then smiled.

‘I beg your pardon?’ she asked nastily, her temper flaring up.

‘I want to get off this ship,’ Mark repeated. ‘Now. I don’t care what I have to do. I don’t care how I do it. I’ll jump overboard if I have to. I’ll risk my own life if needed. All I ask is for you to take me to the captain. Now’.

‘Young man, I assure you that you are in no fit state to…’

‘NOW!’

Jayne was surprised. It was a lot for a thirteen-year-old boy to ask for. She contemplated his argument, weighing her options up carefully. Once she was calm, she made her decision.

‘Come with me’.

***

Mark could not believe his luck. His demands had been answered to. Whether he was being held prisoner for a reason or not was still in question. Either way, Mark Cannidor was determined to get what he wanted. No matter what the consequences may be. He wanted to be off this ship. He wanted to return to England, back to Battalion Manor to be with his parents. He had been kidn*pped, and he was determined to know why.

He had a pretty good argument to back himself up. He was determined to persuade the captain that he had made a grave mistake and that he was, in fact, in the wrong for taking Mark hostage the way he did.

Jayne was oddly quiet as she led Mark to the captain’s quarter. When she first found Mark, she was as caring as any parent or guardian would be. Now, she seemed more like a prison guard leading the convict to a cell. Mark felt uncomfortable but knowing that he was innocent helped in his defence. Mark had been wrongly accused, and he knew it. He may be the captain, but Malcheffi was in the wrong.

Jayne finally stopped at the captain’s door.

‘Wait here,’ Jayne demanded, and she entered without any further explanation.

Mark was determined to press his ear to the door listen in on their conversation but felt that it would be giving too much away if he tried that. Instead, he waited patiently until he was called in. Or until the captain agreed to see him. He couldn’t hear any sign of conversation. His name wasn’t brought up. However, there was a c***k of a glass hitting wood. No – had someone thrown a glass at a wall? It was impossible to tell. The talking was so quiet. It was quite mysterious…

A few moments later, the door opened. Mark had come face to face with his nemesis.

Captain Malcheffi himself. He was tall, with black hair tied back. This time he wore a royal blue dressing gown with pyjamas and looked comfortable despite the fact that he was at sea. He didn’t seem too impressed to see Mark. Yet, there he was, glaring down at Mark as if he had eaten something rotten. Mark wasn’t going to be intimidated by this.

‘So!’ Malcheffi barked. ‘You believe it is your right to make the demands around here?’

Mark nodded. Everything he had argued against with Jayne had suddenly slipped his mind. He was no longer the ambassador for his own well-being. He was instead a contemplator, thinking about the way he should defend himself. All of a sudden, nothing came to him.

He was doomed.

‘I see,’ Malcheffi said softly, after spending several long moments observing him. ‘Well, in that case…’

Mark feared for the worst at that moment. Something told him that Malcheffi was going to hurt him. Was he going to be dragged by the ear to a cell below decks? Or thrown overboard, perhaps? He could see that the worst was yet to come.

He was wrong.

Instead, the captain handed him a pile of clothes. Then Malcheffi knelt-down and patted Mark on the shoulder in a fatherly sort of way.

‘I think we should take you home,’ Malcheffi suggested. ‘The first opportunity we have. First, we need to carry out some business around Europe. Once we’re ready, we’ll take you back to England’.

‘Love,’ Jayne said. She approached her husband and whispered something in his ear. Mark couldn’t establish what was being said, but it seemed as though Jayned was encouraging her husband to rethink his decision. However, Malcheffi merely shook his head in disagreement and turned towards Mark.

‘Very well,’ Malcheffi said. ‘That will be your uniform. I’ll take you to the kitchen, and you can help to prepare tonight’s meal’.

***

‘Where are those other children on the ship?’ Mark asked Malcheffi on their way to the kitchen. Mark had changed into a white jacket and checked pants, the style of uniform a chef would wear. It appeared as though Malcheffi wanted young Mark to help out with some of the maintenance work on the ship. This should be a good opportunity for Mark to prove his worth. Maybe after this, he could make sea travel a long-time thing for himself.

The captain, however, did not seem too enthusiastic.

‘Never you mind,’ Malcheffi spat. ‘You are not to mix with the other children or any other crew members. You will answer to me and my wife only. You ask me for permission before using any of our facilities. And you will go to bed before everyone else. Understood?’

Mark nodded, confused by Malcheffi’s sudden change in attitude. Mark was almost under the impression that Malcheffi was trying to help. Surely, having him on board the ship should have been beneficial? Instead, he felt like a prisoner again.

They entered a small, cubby kitchen. A young man in his early twenties was braising a large bird which looked like it had been overfilled with stuffing. It looked rather unpleasant, but Mark felt it would have to do if he wanted to eat something.

The captain cleared his throat.

‘Lorenz, this is Mark,’ Malcheffi explained. ‘He will be lending a helping hand to prepare dinner tonight. Once that has been done, he goes to bed. I will leave him in your capable hands. Make sure he does not leave your sight. Good night’.

The captain smirked as he left.

‘Don’t take any notice of him,’ Lorenz said, sounding like he was from somewhere in Germanic speaking Europe. ‘He’s foul to everyone. It’s nothing personal to you. Even his wife says he’s rotten sometimes. Don’t you worry, though. You’re in the right place’.

Mark smiled. This made him feel a little bit better. Yet, he still felt singled out. After all, he was here against his will. No matter how this job turned out, he was still stuck somewhere in the world on his own. Out at sea. On his own. Or, rather, not quite. He trusted Lorenz instantly and knew he was going to be in good hands.

‘I see it was your father who supplied us with these vegetables,’ Lorenz continued, studying a finely shaped stalk of broccoli. ‘Vegetables are such wonderful items. Full of goodness and energy. They are good for the mind. Good for the body. Good for the soul. Tasty, too. They must be doing well for business, eh?’

Mark shrugged unenthusiastically. ‘I suppose they do’.

‘You are so lucky,’ Lorenz said. ‘Most children your age are either in a classroom, in a factory, or on the streets begging for money. I guess you are working for your parents. Most farming families work for themselves, from what I understand’.

Marks mind had wandered off elsewhere. He could never help but feel sorry for those children who had less than he did. There were many other children out in the world today who were less fortunate. He had aspired to make it his mission to help others who needed it the most. His mother Hazel always reminded him to be lucky and put yourself first. That was a golden rule in the Cannidor household. That was what made them happy. And if he was able to look out for himself, then maybe he could look after someone who had a lot less than he did.

At least Malcheffi had listened to Mark. Given him a chance to prove he wasn’t all that evil. What Mark really wanted to do was to give something to the captain and his crew. At the very least, to persuade the captain to bring him back to England sooner rather than later. If that didn’t work, then maybe he had no hope in the world to reach home.

Mark liked Lorenz. The chef of the Lady Sinatra showed Mark the ropes of the kitchen. Within an hour, Mark was peeling and boiling vegetables, stacking plates, and organising cutlery.

It felt so good to be useful again.

When dinner was ready that evening, the crew members savagely crammed onto the main deck for their fair share of the food. In the end, all that was left was a few chunks of meat and a couple of carrots.

‘All yours,’ Lorenz said, taking a bread roll out of his pocket.

‘I couldn’t,’ Mark said, feeling guilty. Lorenz had done most of the work, after all. Why should he go without food?

Lorenz winked.

‘You could do with some energy more than me. You’ll see’.