Page 55 of In Just a Year
“But you feel alright?” Greg asked.
Ben nodded. Considering the two-dozen sickly crew below deck, he was glad to stay up above.
“I wonder why you and I are the only ones safe from whatever has befallen the men.”
“Maybe it’s a matter of time until we catch it.” Ben reached for some of the dried fruits Vati had left for him. He kept a few in his pocket, wrapped in a paper, so he wouldn’t have to go below deck and lose daylight for the many tasks he had to accomplish on deck. “Here.” He handed the paper funnel he’d stuffed with dried fruit to Greg. They shared a cabin and often their food.
They chewed in silence for a few seconds, and Greg spat a seed overboard. “The men are spitting teeth like this.” Yet Ben was glad that his and Greg’s smiles were as radiant as ever.
“All of them?” Ben screwed up his face. He was in no rush to pay the sailors a visit below deck and cater to them at night. Their groans and spitting blood made his stomach convulse regardless of how much pity he felt for them.
“We’re the only two who are absolutely fine.” Greg observed.
“The only two? Out of fifty-two men?” Ben crumpled the empty paper and stuffed it in his pocket.
Then he froze.
“Greg!” Ben rushed over the deck toward their cabin. “Get the crates Vati gave me.”
Greg followed Ben. “Why?”
“We’re the only ones not getting sick. We’re the only ones who eat the pickled vegetables, limes, and dried fruits.”
CHAPTER26
Over the next few days, Ben had shared his provisions with the crew. The men recovered slowly, some regained their strength and returned to work. Nobody else died.
Three weeks later, they made it to the coast of France. Ben pulled a rope from a mast and tied it to another. His clothes were just as worn and dirty as the other seamen’s. The boatswain, whose rash had healed and whose mouth had stopped bleeding, helped him.
“Mister Klonimus,” the Captain said. “We need to thank you.”
“For what, Captain?” Ben straightened his posture.
“You shared your food with us and something in it healed us. This is the last of it.” He handed Ben a bowl of pickled vegetables.
“Keep it,” Ben said. “You are still weak and need it more than I do.”
The Captain eyed the bowl and cast the boatswain a look. “You’re a fine man, Mister Klonimus. Most others would have kept whatever they needed for themselves. You saved our lives, I reckon.”
“I did what I thought was right, Captain.” Ben returned to work.
“You did the right thing because there’s righteousness in your heart, Mister Klonimus. A rare trait. You risked your life to save us.”
“I never thought I’d see my daughters and wife again. Without me, the girls would have no dowries and no futures. But now that I can come back home to them with the prize money, they have futures. Without your selflessness and the risk you took to give your pickles and dried fruit to us, my children wouldn’t have a future. My wife and mother wouldn’t have enough to grow old in safety.”
Ben felt heat rising to his face as the older men spoke to him with such respect. They didn’t address him as the youngest Klonimus, a little brother, one of many students. He was their equal, a grown man standing before them to receive the honor of their gratitude. “I only did what I hoped would help you.”
“No, Mister Klonimus,” the Captain added. “You taught us a lesson. Without looking after the future for all our lives, nothing wouldn’t have been left of this treasure for our families. The gems and the prize money would have been lost.”
Ben leaned against the railing and crossed his arms as he watched the men walk away. In the hierarchy aboard, they were his superiors and only had to report to Greg who owned the fleet. Their demeanor, however, signified that Ben was at least as high in rank as Greg. And what had the Captain said about his good deed? If he hadn’t prioritized preserving their future, their rewards wouldn’t exist for their families.
An epiphany washed over Ben like the schooner’s bow crashing upon the waves and cutting its path across the sea. The lesson, imparted by Izaac Pearler, had finally taken root in Ben’s mind. It was a lesson that could not simply be taught; it had to be experienced, lived, and felt in every fiber of his being.
Izaac Pearler hadn’t scattered treasures across the globe to stir up a sense of adventure in his offspring. Nor had he done so to bestow upon them an easy life of wealth and privilege. The real purpose was far more profound, far more compassionate, far more... Pearler.
It was about securing their futures. Each treasure, in its solitary grandeur, held enough value to safeguard the welfare of a sizeable family. Not just for a couple of years, but for generations to come. And yet, the true worth of these treasures wasn’t in the gold, gems, or artifacts they comprised.
No, the true treasure lay in what they represented: the continuation of love and support that defined their family. It was not about the opulence they could provide, but the enduring legacy of love, unity, and strength they symbolized. The real wealth was the family itself, its bonds, its memories, its shared joys and sorrows, its collective journey through time, and the single goal to make the world a little bit better for the next generation. And that’s what Izaac Pearler did with the clues and the lessons. Each of Ben’s older brothers who’d returned with a piece of the treasure had proceeded with a new set of values as adults; they’d started a family and protected it. That’s why he had been free to embark upon this journey to India, and he was unmarried. Izaac Pearler couldn’t have predicted that Ben’s heart was attached to Esther and that being apart for the whole year could be so difficult. Yet, returning with the triad of such precious sapphires elevated Ben among the family. He’d earned his place in the Diamond Dynasty and was more man now than the boy who’d left—he could offer Esther more now. And wasn’t that the essence of Izaac Pearler’s lesson? Ben was now better equipped to start a family with Esther and to look out for the next generation.
