“Well if that don’t beat all,” McCurdy said, shaking his head. He slapped his hat on his head, his grey eyes turning to steel and just leaned back on the seat. He thumbed a cigarette out of his pack and put it in his mouth. He didn’t light it though. He just sucked on the end of it as if it was, and looked disgusted.

McCurdy didn't stew very long. He looked at the pirate captain sewing on Hawksmoore and then looked out of the window at the earth below them. He eased back to watch the surgery again.

"Why don't we just drop down to the river and dip him in it," he said rather lazily. He seemed to have gotten over being snubbed by Marianne, accepting that his initial impression of her had been right in the first place. Folk from the isles were always a bit self-impressed and haughty in his experience.

Brother Clary held his swing as the snake began to move away.  He leaned back, breathing heavily, and muttered "Jest cain't abide them snakes..."

Then he moved to find a seat in the opposite direction of the where the serpent went, and settled himself in, keeping the shotgun close at hand.

When he was a little more collected, he addressed Marianne.  "Ma'am, I don't look at anyone as a pawn, but as a person with the dignity of bein' created in the very image o' God.  I was also taught to show respect fer ladies, and I could not sit back and watch you carried off by that de Vega feller.  What I do agree with is that we all need to stick together if'n we're gonna git through this in one piece."

With that, he leaned back, slid his hat down over his eyes to give the appearance of resting.  In reality, though, he was watching out for that snake...

Marianne rolled her eyes at Hornsby's remark and seemed about to reply, but McCurdy's reaction brought a smirk to her face instead. She glared at the private eye and the preacher.

But Brother Clary's reply seemed to mollify some of her anger, and she nodded at him. "Thank you for your help," she said briefly. She didn't even glance at McCurdy. Instead she turned back to watch the Captain as he sewed up the wound, taking silent note of what he was doing.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:44, Mon 17 Oct 2005.

"He offered his blood to the lwa, to defeat de Vega," Hornsby replied, "This wound won't kill him - but it canst be healed by magic.  Just by time."  The man's hands were steady enough, and his skill at binding a wound shut seemed sufficient.  Marianne was able to observe how best to suture a wound.  "And think what ye will of that, Yank - I'll tell you no lies.  No time for lies, the truth be dicey enough."  With that, he tied off the thread and was done, handing the small sewing kit back to Liza.  Then he winked at Marianne with the lone eye, saucily.

Brother Clary watched the snake slide itself along the ropes in easy, slinky loops, smoothly questing toward a porthole, where it flicked its tongue at the thick glass viewport for a while.  Then it curled back on itself to ease along the ropes into a patch of sunshine, where it seemed to go to sleep.  It was probably the worse guard-snake on record.

McCurdy clucked once at one-eye’s quip about the truth, glancing at the redhead. “You got that right,” he mumbled as he turned his eyes to the snake. He moved over to the seat closest to it and eased back, mimicking Brother Clary. Only he wasn’t watching the snake.

“Wish I had it as easy as you, snake. Right now, I could do with bein’ deaf. Reckon you won’t mind my company, though. Seems some in here think we have the same personality. We ought to get along just fine...”

Marianne smirked at the P.I and threw him a look that said he didn't know half of it. "Captain, since we do seem to have some time on our hands, would you consent to answering a few questions?"

"M'lady, time's one thing we're bloody short on," Hornsby replied, "Even with this flying machine.  The path to the fountain is long and ard'just, and must needs be made afoot.  I have not the fastest way in my head, and to try to find the short-cut is to put yourself in harm's way quickest."

McCurdy thought, just for an instant, there was a flicker of an eyelash on Hawksmoore, as if he was listening rather intently and something McCurdy said had gotten to him.

McCurdy stared at Hawksmoore as he said, "Who does know the fastest way? Ringrose? And how dangerous is it exactly?"

Marianne stared incredulously at Hornsby. "Oh, for...! You make this journey every forty years, Captain!

Five hundred and twelve miles West of Manaus - to Maya's Cat. That's where you want to go," she said in exasperation.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:36, Sat 22 Oct 2005.

It seemed that no matter how old a man got, when it came to the ability to ask for directions, there weren't any age limits.

"Aye, Ringrose made a map - " Hornsby began to reply to McCurdy, while Hawksmoore shammed being out - McCurdy was now sure the youth was faking sleep.  The old one-eyed pirate looked over at Marianne with a stunned look as she spoke in exasperation.

"Eh ?"  Hornby said, sounding as startled as he looked.  Hawksmoore's eyes snapped open too, and both looked at her.  "You've got the map ?  You know the way ?"

"Mayascat," Hawksmoore said, in a low voice, with a slight wince as the ribs twinged,  "Tell the Hessian."

 Hornsby shut his mouth and made his way to shout at the noisy cockpit.

"I had the map," Marianne corrected. "Basil has it now - along with my clothes, my writer's journal, and all the rest of my belongings."

"Fortunately for us, and most unfortunately for him, I have an  excellent memory," she said with satisfaction. She was obviously relishing the prospect of putting a spoke in her erstwhile companion's wheel.

McCurdy chuckled aloud, now looking at Marianne. “That figures,” he mumbled to no one in particular. “So what’s after Maya’s cat? Armenio’s dog?”

Marianne's expression abruptly grew annoyed, and she turned a stony stare on McCurdy. Then, without a word, she rose and followed behind the Captain.

"Captain... May I speak with you?" she asked, mindful of the noise from the cockpit.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:38, Thu 27 Oct 2005.

Hornsby raised an eyebrow at the way Marianne ignored McCurdy, but it was apparently against his code to say anything about it.  Hawksmoore assumed the jaundiced air of an offended teenager, but stayed where he was...and was watching McCurdy out of the corner of his eye.

"As you wish, Marm," he said, and even tried to bob a little bow in the tight space the cargo hold offered.

The snake idly flickered its tongue and twitched a lazy coil, dreaming of mice.

McCurdy looked over at Brother Clary. "You sleepin', padre?"

"I was a tryin' to, but with that varmint snake sneaking around and all this jabberin' goin' on, it don't look much like that's gonna happen."

"Then let me ask how much of all of this do you believe exactly," McCurdy said, shifting slightly to lean on one side, one leg thrown over the other. "What happened to you to get you caught up in this?"

"Well, now that it appears we've saved some time because of this shortcut, would you mind answering a few questions?" she asked a little impatiently, gesturing around at the cabin. "I really don't think we have anywhere to go for a while."

Brother Clary lifted his chin to peer out at McCrudy from under the brim of his hat.

"I've seen a few things in my time to make me know that there is a lot of stuff out there that folks may not think is 'natural.'  After all, I'm a guy who believes in God becoming a human baby, growing up, dyin' for no crime of His own, and then comin' back to life.  In the meantime, He made blind people see again and lame people walk.  Not only do I believe it, I spend my days tryin' to git other folks to believe it. Then there's the whole demon stuff....

I guess it'd be best fer me to say that I haven't seen anythin' yet to make me not believe this stuff was happenin'.

As fer how I got here, well, after one o' my services, some feller walked up to me and said he had somethin' he thought I should have.  Turned out it was this bejewelled cross with a Latin inscription on't.  Feller said he found it in a cottonwood tree that was hit by lightnin'.  When I was lookin' fer information on the cross, I ran across't a kid name o' Billy Chang, who is descended from a lady Hornsby there know'd.  Billy knew all about the cross and sent me to find Hornsby, and well, that's how I got here."

The two men chatted, while Marianne cornered Hornsby, who managed a mischievous smile at her words.  At the mention of Chang, Hawksmoore's eyes narrowed again.  That was of course where McCurdy had found the youth.

"Ask, and be answered," he replied, with a gallant flair.  "If you truly have the map, Milady, I am your very servant !"

"You will?!" Marianne was momentarily startled, having worked herself up for an argument. He had put her off so many times before, she hadn't expected that he would agree.

A delighted smile lit up her face and transformed her expression. Her fingers itched for a pencil and paper. How she wished she had her notebook with her!

"I don't know where to begin! Why don't you start?! Just tell me the story as you experienced it... How did you come to discover the fountain? How were the others involved? What happened when you finally found it?" The questions poured out excitedly.

Hornsby raised one eyebrow, just a bit. "We're pirates, marm," he said, with a nod at Sebastian Hawksmoore. "We heard the tale from some slaves we freed aboard a prize we took; so we undertook, with certain of our crew, to find this fountain of youth.  Ringrose made a map from what the slaves said.  As for what happened, it's a tale we'll tell on the ground !"  He gulped and sat down suddenly, as the plane began to tilt downwards for a landing.  The Hun set the seaplane down on the river without any difficulty, and they taxied up to a small pier where two canoes were bobbing.

"Mayascat," said Hans Gruber.

There seemed to be a path that led into the jungle, and all was quiet...very quiet.

McCurdy was on his feet before the taxi was finished. He eased toward the door and threw it open, checking the landing and those outside carefully for a moment. He looked at Gruber and nodded his thanks at him. “Good bit of flying,” he said before stepping out of the plane and onto the pier. As soon as he hit the deck, he had his pack of cigarettes in hand and was tapping one loose...

Brother Clary watched the Arkansas gumshoe leave the plane.  Then he gathered up his shotgun.  "Well, I don't aim to sit around starin' at everybody like a knot on a log.  I got a job to do."

He then joined McCurdy outside the plane.