1. An Adventure With a Pirate
Thunk!
The boy ignored the sound and continued writing. While is right hand expertly maneuvered the expensive feather pen his left absently fingered the bright red scarf that draped around his neck. His grandmother sent him one every year. She worried about the cold sea wind giving him a chill.
Thunk!
A frown creased his forehead as he stared down at the paper, trying to keep his train of thought on the tracks.
Thunk! Clack!
He heaved a sigh that was half exasperation half resignation as he rose from the oak desk. Pushing aside the lace curtains he opened the window and poked his head outside. "Will you stop? Mother will hear you!". He hissed as loud as he dared.
One story below, right in the center of the flower bed stood a boy with red curls and a bright toothy grin. He dropped the large rock he had been about to throw. "You're mother's deaf as a stump," he called back with an unconcerned wave, not bothering to lower his voice. "And before you ask that penguin that answers your front door is out of the way too. Now come on! There's adventure to be had!"
The boy with the scarf sighed, sincerely disappointed. "I can't. I'm studying." He still kept his voice low. The son of a colonel in His Majesty's Navy was hardly allowed to fraternize with the mongrel boy of a sailor and a barmaid. Even if that boy was his cousin. If his parents ever discovered this friendship their reaction would certainly not be one of understanding.
"Oh, studying too much will make you're head explode." The redheaded young man said with just a hint of annoyance. "Besides..." His smile widened and his voice took on a conspiritory tone as he held up a large shovel. "Will studying ever make you rich beyond your wildest dreams?"
The boy with the scarf's eyes widened a bit. His family was already fairly wealthy and was among the upper middle class of the small port town. So it wasn't the prospect of wealth that made his spine tingle. His friend's words crackled with the promise of adventure. As always he couldn't resist. He glanced once over his shoulder before climbing out of the window.
The boy with the scarf nervously eyed the sign as they passed it. It read: 'NO TRUSPASIN' in red, dripping letters that easily could have been painted in blood. Underneath a skull and crossbones clearly announced the consequences of anyone foolish enough to disregard the warning. "Are you sure this is a good idea? They say he shoots at anyone who invades his land. I heard he even chased Doc Morgan away with a cutlass!"
"This is a marvelous idea." The redhead marched confidently ahead without even a glance at the sign. "And of course he shoots at people. He doesn't want them to find his treasure."
"What are we going to do if he catches us?" It wasn't that the boy with the scarf was skittish. In fact he had a calm courage beyond his nine years. But unlike his friend he was cautious and the questions he was asking were perfectly logical ones.
"He won't catch us." Said the redheaded boy as he tripped over a tree root and fell flat on his face. He bounded back to his feet and continued on as if nothing had happened. "The secret is stealth. But on the off chance that he does catch us we'll just use a simple combination of common reasoning and psychology. We'll just tell him that we know about his treasure and as he is an old man, who at the age of fifty is likely to die soon anyway, we would be happy to take that old treasure chest off his hands so he won't have to bother with it in his will."
It sounded like a rather dubious escape plan to the boy with the scarf. But at least it was a plan. "So how did you find out about this treasure, Captain?"
"I was in the tavern." The boy lived with his mother in a small room above the local drinking establishment. So he spent much of his time helping serve drinks and listening to the gossip, fish stories and tall tales told by the patrons. It was also the place where, as a very headstrong toddler, he had earned the nickname 'Captain'. "And I heard from a very reliable source that old Red Roy used to be a pirate!"
"Really?" Asked the boy with the scarf. He wasn't quite sure if any tavern goer could be called a 'reliable source'. The small harbor town was a relatively quiet place and its inhabitants mostly fishermen and sea loving gentry. And the harbor rarely got anything larger than the local fishing skiffs. So if this fellow was indeed a terror of the seven seas he was the most exciting person they had in their little village.
"Yep. And as a pirate he obviously has treasure. The whole idea of being a pirate is the treasure, you know. Well, that and not having to wash behind your ears. Pirate's mothers never tell them to wash behind their ears." He brushed some foliage aside as they continued through the wooded area.
"So how are we supposed to find this treasure?" The boy with the scarf tugged at the leather bag that hung over his shoulder as it became caught on a passing bush. Hopefully that bag would be filled with loot by the end of the day.
The Captain gave his friend a suspicious look as if wondering if he were really that stupid. But he quickly shrugged it off. "I suppose you wouldn't know anything about pirates with your head filled with all that useless book learning. You're going to have to do some emptying in there if you want to make room for important things. It would be difficult. Learning things can be heard, but unlearning them is as easy as falling off a pier."
The scarf-wearing boy frowned just a bit but didn't let the remark offend him. Instead he tried to keep his friend on topic—a very difficult thing to do at times. "Um…so how are we going to find this treasure again?"
"Everybody knows pirates hide their treasure under X's. Generally big read ones, unless the pirate in question's favorite color is green. Then it would probably be a green X." The redheaded boy prided himself on his knowledge of all things nautical. And pirates were the most nautical things he could think of, aside from anchors. Those were particularly nautical as well. The boy with the scarf wasn't exactly up on seafaring ways himself but he often wondered how accurate his friend's knowledge actually was.
"Okay." The boy with the scarf nodded, filing that information into his mind. "Look for a red X."
"Or a green one. Or any color for that matter. Well, perhaps not pink. Only a lady pirate would hide treasure under a pink. X. And old Red Roy is certainly not a lady pirate."
Just ahead the woods gave way and the two boys stopped gazing out at the clearing. The tall, unkept grass spanned from the tree line to an abrupt drop off and beyond sparkled the blue ocean. Right at the edge of the cliff, looking as if it were about to crumble into the sea was an old, lopsided pile of wood that if you squinted hard might pass for a small cabin.
The boy with the scarf quirked one side of his mouth skeptically. "If he has treasure why would he live there?"
The Captain stared at the old place, his hazel eyes sparkling. "It's just a front, you see. Devilishly clever. I'll bet he's got a mansion underneath it somewhere!"
The boy with the scarf smiled a bit. "I'm sure you're right, Captain." He seriously doubted there was anything under that shack but dirt. But it felt kind of cruel to say so when the Captain was so excited over the idea.
"Now, do you see any promising X's? Remember they're tricky little things and like to play hide and seek."
The boy with the scarf surveyed the area, looking for anything that might mark buried treasure. He didn't see anything.
"Ah! There it is!" The Captain strolled out into the open with no qualms about being seen.
The boy with the scarf slunk behind him. "Shouldn't we make sure he's not home first?"
"Look at the place!" He waved a hand toward the dilapidated building. "Why would he be up here peeking out of windows in that old wreck when he's got a whole mansion down there." His hand lowered a bit, pointing to the ground beneath the cabin.
"I suppose you're right." They younger boy said, sounding far less than sure.
"Of course I'm right. And here's where we'll dig." The Captain reached his destination and motioned proudly to the ground where two branches crossed each other, sitting conspicuously in the grass. It did indeed look like an X. The bark on the limbs even had a reddish hue.
The Captain shoved both hands on his hips and gave the boy with the scarf a pointed look. "Well, don't just stand there like a slice of toast! Get to digging!"
The boy with the scarf smiled a bit as he stabbed the shovel into the dirt. The 'Captain's nickname suited him perfectly. He was never really rude about it but he had no qualms about bossing others around. He was a leader. That was for sure.
The boy with the scarf had only been digging a few moments when the Captain rolled his eyes and snatched the shovel away. "You wealthy school types really don't know how to do anything useful do you?"
The boy with the scarf frowned just a little. But he couldn't really argue. This was the first time he had ever used a shovel and he might very well have been doing it wrong. The truth was he was so thin and so light he hardly had any leverage to push the shovel blade.
The Captain demonstrated the proper procedure, using his foot to push the blade into the thick soil. "You really need to learn how to dig properly." He insisted. "You just never know when you'll need a good hole."
The scarf-wearing boy watched closely and listened as his friend listed all the virtues of a decent shovel.
There was a rustle from behind and a shadow fell over them. The Captain was too busy digging to notice but the boy with the scarf whipped around with a gasp to see a giant of a man blocking out the sun before a huge meaty hand grabbed him around the waist, squeezing all the air from his lungs so quickly he couldn't even shout a warning. The Captain gasped and dropped his shovel as he was lifted off his feet, a giant hook where the man's hand should be piercing the collar of his red coat. The Captain struggled for a moment, dangling in midair, while the boy with the scarf kicked and squirmed with all his might.
The mans voice was like thunder. "What'er you two lubbers doin' digging up my land?!"
The Captain stopped struggling and tried to twist around to see the mountain that was holding him aloft. "We…We heard you needed an outhouse out here and thought we'd save you the trouble of digging the hole."
The pirate roared with laughter as loud as the waves in a storm. He clearly wasn't buying it. If they didn't get away he'd probably toss them both over that cliff over there. Struggling wasn't working so the boy with the scarf tried the next thing on the list. He bit down as hard as he could on the tan, hairy hand that gripped him. The pirate let out a lions roar and with a flick of his oak-like wrist sent the offender flying. The boy with the scarf tumbled through the air, collided head first with the nearest tree and crumpled bonelessly to the ground. The last thing he heard was a piercing shriek of "No!" from the Captain before everything went dark.
Poke.
"He's not waking up. You've gone and broke him!"
Poke.
"Let him be. He'll be alright."
Poke.
"You better be able to fix him. You can't replace a best friend, you know."
Poke.
"Quit pokin' him, lad!"
The boy with the scarf awoke to a headache and the sensation of being stabbed in the chest with someone's finger. He blinked his eyes open to find a very blurry redheaded figure hovering over him.
"How many fingers am I holding up?"
The boy with the scarf blinked a few more times, his vision becoming gradually clearer. "Um…three?"
The Captain looked at the fingers he was holding up, counted them himself and then grinned triumphantly. "Right!"
"Ye alright lad?"
The scarf-wearing boy sat up straight when he saw the huge mountain-of-a-man sitting near the end of the cot. His skin was tanned and weathered and a gigantic curly, chocolate-brown beard spanned from his face to halfway down his chest. A dangerous-looking hook, polished till it sparkled, topped the end of his right arm where his hand should be. Seemingly to balance it out his left leg ended just above the knee, replaced by a long wooden peg.
"Sorry, fer tossin' ye, boy. But ye startled me." He held up his hand and there was a clear red mark where the boy had bitten him.
The boy with the scarf crinkled his nose a bit. The taste of hairy, sweaty pirate still lingered in his mouth. "I startled you?"
"Don't judge me, boy. I don't fancy folks on me property. I was just tryin' to scare ye off."
"Because you're hiding a treasure, if I'm not mistaken?" Asked the Captain, not the least bit intimidated by the man that was likely ten times his size.
The big man squinted one eye dangerously. "And what makes ye say that?"
"You're a pirate." The Captain said matter-of-factly. "All pirates have treasure. Don't tell me you didn't know that. What kind of treasure do you have, by the way? I'm particularly fond of rubies. They're red, aren't they? Red is my favorite color."
Old Red Roy chuckled. "By Neptune's knickers, every pirate should have treasure. And I've had plenty of treasure in me time."
The boy with the scarf relaxed a little. With a smile, even though it was missing a few teeth, the man didn't seem quite as dangerous as he had before. "But you haven't any now?" He ventured to ask.
"You two lads want a ham sandwich?" He bustled over to the one counter that made up his kitchen and pulled a huge, shiny cutlass out of nowhere and with two massive 'chops' that nearly split the counter in two he parted a couple of slices from a side of ham. Moments later he came back, handing each of the boys a plate. He sat down on the room's one chair and wiped the mustard from his saber.
"Thank you." The boy with the scarf said.
The Captain took a huge bite and tried to speak around his food. "So what's it like being a pirate?"
And he told them. He spun tales of the sea and the wind. Of ships, grand ships that crossed the oceans to places no man has ever seen. He told of islands and treasure maps and caves filled with mountains of gold. There were stories of sea battles, some won, some lost. He must have spoke for hours with the two boys hanging on his every word. The Captain's young face glowed, his eyes sparkling with these tales of adventure.
Soon it was time to go home. But they returned to the old cabin every time they got the chance to hear more. And every time old Red Roy would have some new piratical tip. "Every pirate needs a good nickname to strike fear in his enemies." And "ham is a pirates best friend" and "Take care of your beard, lad. His beard is a pirate's pride and joy."
Although the old pirate insisted he didn't like trespassers he always seemed delighted when the two boys came to visit.
One day, after hearing a particularly exciting story from their pirate friend the two boys were walking home, side by side.
The Captain stopped in his tracks, his brows lowered in thoughtful determination. "You know. When I grow up, and I'm nearly there you know, I'm going to be a pirate! Why, I'll be the best pirate captain to ever sail the seven seas! There are seven of them aren't there? I'll have my own boat and my own crew. And by Neptune I'll have treasure too! Lots of that. And cannons! Every good pirate ship has cannons." He turned to the younger boy as something brilliant seemed to strike him. "And you can be my first mate! Every pirate captain needs a first mate, you know."
The boy with the scarf smiled. "Where would we sail first, Captain?"
This is the first in a series of short stories about the Captain and Scarf's early friendship.
