Unfortunately, my father wasn’t in any condition to discuss the possible location of this sunken galleon let alone help us get there. I decided to go check on him. I was wasting my time with this useless map. As I exited Bertha’s room I looked out to the four horizons, north to south, west to east. We were in the middle of a deep blue ocean. And I had no idea where we were. I wished my father was awake.

He wasn’t. He lay inert in the bed, eyes closed. His face had taken on an ashen cast that made his bushy black eyebrows stand out in stark contrast to the pallor of his skin. His mouth was slack and encrusted with blood. Joseph was still standing at the side of the bed like I’d left him a quarter of an hour before. Bertha was unwinding my makeshift tourniquet, taking care not to disturb her patient. She looked up as I entered the room.

“Casey, be a love and fetch me my sewing kit. It’s under my bed.”

Joseph exclaimed, “Are ye daft, woman? This man’s dying and ye wanna sew?”

“Aye, that I do, Joe.”