Wimberly's Short Stories: The Alias of Davy Jones

By Weston James Wimberly

In this page-turning alternative history short story, the year is 1716 and the American Revolution nears its end. It is also the Golden Age of piracy. Pirate James Cortez wants to fight for freedom just like his father, and therefore must walk a fine line between pirate and freedom fighter. The Continental Congress approves his petition to becom

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: Mar 9, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685158231

Weston James Wimberly

Weston James Wimberly was adopted at the age of three by a U.S. Air Force family. When he was eight, he was informed by his doctor and parents that he has Asperger's Syndrome. Throughout his life he's had very few friends, so in his spare time he would roleplay, creating his own stories and characters. As he got older, his roleplaying turned into writing. One day his dad stumbled across his work and suggested he write a book, and Weston thought why not? Weston is the proud owner of a husky. In his spare time he does judo, taekwondo, kung fu, Brazilian jujitsu, and boxing.

Book preview

Chapter One

The Introduction

T

he year was 1716, and the Revolutionary War neared its end. James Cortez had an average build, thick combed-back brown hair, and a long goatee.

Wake up, son! Brian yelled in excitement. Brian was barrel chested and bald with a silver beard.

Yes, Dad, what is it? James asked, still trying to wake up.

Your dream comes true today—follow me, Brian said. James quickly got dressed in his blue shirt and black pants and followed him outside.

Walk with me—I’ll explain, said Brian. James walked with his dad down a dusty road outside town.

Members of the First Continental Congress are willing to support your dream, my son, Brian said, grinning.

What? They’re going to support piracy? asked James, astonished.

Keep it down! Yes, but with conditions, of course, replied Brian as James lit a pipe.

You can’t steal from or harm American people. On top of that, you must have a good presence and keep the redcoats away…unofficially, of course, said Brian. James paused for a moment.

I see—so I’m fighting not just for freedom but for our country as well, James replied as he took a puff off his pipe.

Vargas Scott will join you. He is an accomplished seaman, and the two of you have been friends for some time now, Brian said.

Now I feel comfortable with my plan—although, why are we walking to the docks? inquired James.

They are building ships. You get to pick one. Until then you will sail under a friend. He was a privateer; now he is a well-renowned pirate, and he's here waiting for you. I believe Vargas is with him, Brian replied.

Thank you, Dad. What did you say to the Congress to convince them? asked James as he took another puff off his pipe.

Do you remember my friend Samuel Adams? asked Brian. James nodded his head.

He explained your reasons to the president and the Congress. Your fight for freedom, what you say about the black flag. It was people wanting freedom from tyranny, and since you couldn’t fight for our country's freedom, you want to fight for the world's freedom, Brian explained. James knocked the burned tobacco out of his pipe. They then approached a handsome man with black hair.

Good to see you, Samuel, James said.

You as well. Did your father fill you in? asked Adams. James gave a nod. You get to pick one of these three ships. They’re almost finished, but we will send it to you whenever you are ready, Adams continued.

The middle one. Try to give it a pear-shaped hull. It will help with cargo and going down rivers, said James, pointing at the ship with a wolf figurehead. It was a galleon, a hundred sixty feet long with no commissioned officers’ quarters.

"A good choice—that one is called the Alliance," said Samuel.

"Not anymore. It's called the Fenrir. And fit five more cannons on it as well," said James.

You want forty-eight cannons? asked Adams. James gave a serious nod.

All right. Whenever you need help, just send word. The Continental navy will answer the call, said Adams.

Your new captain awaits us, said Brian. James followed him down the pier. Waiting was an elderly black man, balding on top, with a shaggy white beard. He was wearing black pants, a black shirt, and a black wool coat.

Captain Henry Morgan, my son James, Brian said.

Welcome aboard. Your friend has already made himself comfortable. You all right being a helmsman? I was told you done it before, inquired Captain Morgan.

Only once, replied James. I’ll make do.

Good to hear. Now to your station, ordered Captain Morgan. James walked up the loading bridge. When he walked onto the brigantine, he was greeted by Vargas. Vargas was a young man with long, curly blond hair and a small shaggy goatee, wearing a black shirt and a fancy white canvas coat.

So when you don’t have the helm, I will, Vargas informed him.

My friend, are you ready for a journey? James asked excitedly.

Yes, and quite the journey it’ll be. I’ll follow you to your post, said Vargas.

As James grabbed the wheel, Vargas gave him a concerned look. What are we doing after we get our own ship? asked Vargas.

We help the pirate republic the best we can, and while doing that, we target the English so they can’t return to America, explained James.

All right. I can stand behind that. Although I don’t understand why you are determined to fight for pirates, said Vargas.

One day I’ll tell you, but for now, just know they aren’t the enemy. They’re just lost souls, said James.

And we just joined them… said Vargas.

Yes, that we did, replied James, and the two began to laugh.

Later that evening, Vargas took the helm from James. James walked down the stairway and to the captain's quarters. After knocking on the door, James heard a voice.

Come in, said Morgan. James entered to see him hovering over a map, looking frustrated.

Is there a problem, Captain? asked James.

I just don’t know how we will get around Havana. We can’t go this way, said Morgan, pointing. James approached the table and then began to study the map.

If we go around this way and wait for the cover of night, we can sneak past, observed James, pointing his finger.

Well look at that—I think you’re right. Looks like you are my new navigator. Don’t disappoint me, said Morgan. James's stomach turned at the thought of losing his only chance to make a difference for the black flag. He had to build a name for himself if his plan was to work. Working on Morgan's crew was the easiest option.

I’m sure it’ll work. I won’t disappoint, sir, replied James.

What did you come here to ask me? inquired Morgan.

Just wanted to know what the cargo is, said James.

Spices. The rare kind, big money in Jamaica, replied Morgan. James nodded before leaving to sleep in his hammock down below the deck.

The next three days were long. James struggled doing chores around the ship. He tried to do his own