Chapter 61: Countdown
The night after Crocus joined the crew, Kyle had asked him to examine Roger again. Crocus had been puzzled—Roger was healthy, stronger than any man his age. But Kyle had insisted, and Crocus had agreed.
Now, a week later, Crocus stood in the center of the deck, his instruments laid out on a cloth, his face pale.
Roger sat on a crate, shirtless, his arms resting on his knees. The crew had gathered around, curious at first, then quiet as Crocus's expression tightened. Shanks and Buggy peered from behind Jabba. Rayleigh stood with his arms crossed, his face unreadable.
Crocus straightened. He removed his glasses, wiped them, put them back. His hands were steady, but his voice was not.
"Roger," he said, "you have an illness. I've never seen it before. I've read no account of it. There is no cure."
The deck went still. The waves against the hull seemed louder, the wind sharper.
Roger's grin did not waver. "How long?"
"Without treatment, three years, maybe four. With everything I can do, perhaps five." Crocus's voice was hoarse. "I can slow it. I cannot stop it."
The words hung in the air. Jabba's bottle slipped from his fingers and shattered on the deck. No one moved.
Roger stood. He stretched, rolled his shoulders, and laughed.
"Kuhahaha! Five years? That's plenty."
"Roger—" Rayleigh began.
"Plenty," Roger repeated. He turned to face his crew, and his grin softened into something quieter, more serious. "I'm not dying in a bed. I'm not fading away. I'm going to reach the end of this sea. And when I do, I'll go out the way I choose."
Shanks's fists were clenched, his face red. Buggy was staring at the deck, his shoulders shaking.
Jabba stepped forward, grabbing Roger's arm. "You can't just—"
"I can." Roger's voice was firm, but not harsh. He placed a hand on Jabba's shoulder. "I have five years. Maybe less. But I have today, and tomorrow, and the days after. And I have all of you."
He looked at each of them—Rayleigh, Jabba, Shanks, Buggy, Crocus, Kyle. "We're going to find the last Poneglyph. We're going to reach the final island. And we're going to do it faster than anyone thought possible."
He walked to the helm, his steps steady. "Hoist the sails. We've wasted enough time."
---
The crew moved. There was no celebration, no shouting. Men climbed the rigging, checked the lines, set the course. The Oro Jackson turned, her prow pointing toward the horizon, her sails filling with wind.
Kyle stood at the stern, watching the wake spread behind them. Crocus appeared beside him, a cup of tea in his hand.
"You knew," Crocus said. It was not a question.
"I suspected."
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
Kyle was quiet for a moment. "Because I was hoping I was wrong."
Crocus studied him. "You're not going to let him waste the time."
"No." Kyle looked at Roger, standing at the bow, his coat billowing, his laughter already carrying across the water. "He's going to live it."
---
That night, the crew did not feast. They sat in small groups, speaking quietly, their voices low. Shanks found Kyle at the bow, his face still flushed.
"He's not going to die," Shanks said. It sounded like a command.
Kyle looked at the boy. "He's going to live," he said. "Every day, until the end. And we'll be there."
Shanks's jaw tightened. He nodded once, then walked away, his fists still clenched.
Buggy appeared from the shadows, his eyes red. "He's an idiot," he said. "He's always been an idiot."
Kyle smiled. "He is."
Buggy stood there for a moment, then turned and disappeared below deck.
---
Kyle stayed at the bow as the stars came out. Rayleigh joined him, two cups in hand. He passed one to Kyle.
"You knew before Crocus came aboard," Rayleigh said.
Kyle did not deny it. "I knew it was possible. I was hoping it wasn't true."
Rayleigh nodded slowly. "And now?"
Kyle looked at the sky, at the endless dark above the endless sea. "Now we sail."
They stood together in silence, watching the stars wheel overhead. The Oro Jackson cut through the water, her course set, her crew awake.
Five years. Maybe less. But the sea was wide, and the horizon was waiting, and they would not stop until they reached the end.
---
End of Chapter 61