Captain Hook changes occupation
A satiric missing scene for "Something Changed"(which will always be №1 for me)
London, 1912 A.D.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a man, having been brought up as an English gentleman, is sure to undergo substantial difficulties in the business of providing for his family (should hard times come) without losing his most precious possession – Good Form.
Such were the thoughts of a representative of the mentioned specie, the former Captain Hook, now mere Mr. James Stuart, the prodigal son of British nobility in disguise, who now, three months after his return from the land of Nowhere and marriage to the fair Wendy Darling, was sitting in the kitchen of №14, Bloomsbury, peeling apples for the apple tart his mother-in-law intended to cook.
"You don't look happy today, Mr. Stuart, is anything wrong?" observed Mary Darling with evident concern.
"Mrs. Darling, I believe you may as well address me by my first name, if you don't mind," answered the son-in-law, taking another apple from the bowl with a deep sigh.
"Of course, James. You know, I'm not as fond of sticking to formalities as George is. Forgive my impertinence, but I have been a mother long enough to notice when something is wrong. So I do see something is troubling you; but of course, I won't interfere if you don't feel like speaking out.
Now, if there was something that could make the former Scourge of the Seven Seas feel embarrassed, it was the open expression of genuine empathy. So, after clearing his throat several times and having accidentally peeled a pile of potatoes instead of apples (never mind, thrifty reader, the vegetables were also quite necessary for dinner!) he finally spoke:
"You are right, Mrs. Darling, no doubt. Something is gnawing at my soul, not letting me enjoy my present life as I am expected to. I hate to admit it, after your daughter and you have been so kind and helpful during my…well… adaptation period, but I still do feel somewhat out of place, if not out of time…"
Mary Darling looked concerned.
"Even in spite of all Wendy's efforts to alter your state of mind? Excuse me again, but I know my daughter much longer than you do, and I realize how hard she tries to make you feel at home…"
The former Captain felt uneasy.
"I can assure you, Mrs. Darling," he said gravely, "that I appreciate my wife's efforts much more than anyone else does."
"No doubt, dear James. What I wanted to say is that you and Wendy look so happy together, so now, when George finally decided to bury the hatchet and the boys, when they come home for vacations, are behaving at least civil in your presence, I believe you shouldn't have any reason for being unhappy?"
When she turned back from the oven to face her son-in-law, his expression was unreadable. It seemed as if he was gazing through her into the open sea, trying in vain to reach for the horizon that was nowhere to be found.
"You see, ma chere belle-mere," he finally answered, standing up from his place by the kitchen table and whisking off apple seeds from his otherwise impeccable costume, "as much as I enjoy to help you in your…domestic activities, I'd rather prefer to accomplish a man's job."
Mrs. Darling frowned.
"Despite your handicap?"
"Madam," the son-in-law's voice sounded somewhat offended, "of course in my search for occupation I will be looking for a position requiring my …er…mental facilities. In other words, in my future career I intend to use my brain, not my hand or…any other tools…."
Mrs. Darling couldn't help but smile.
"But of course, dear James, for certain my imagination is by no means as wild as my daughter's, so it is hard for me to fancy you applying for a job of, say, a factory worker or a taxi driver. However, frankly speaking, I cannot imagine you as a white-collar, working from nine to six in an office of some law firm or bank, like my George, either."
The prodigal son sighed again, turning away as if to check the fire in the oven.
"The main problem is, my dear Mrs. Darling, that I myself cannot imagine it either!"
However, the mother-in-law was not going to let it pass.
"Look, James", she said in earnest, "surely your and Wendy's financial situation is not that bad? It cannot be, considering all of those precious things you brought from Neverland. Why, if you sell them all and invest the revenue properly, you could as well live upon that income for years. And, speaking of occupation, - why don't you write a book, for example? That would be a good challenge for you!"
The former Captain was left speechless.
"A…a book, madam?"
"Yes, James, a book. Sheets of paper between two covers where text is printed. Don't look at me as if I've suddenly gone mad – surely my daughter is not the only storyteller in this family!"
"You see, ma belle-mere," was the somewhat confused reply, "as for those artifacts you have mentioned, I do intend to sell most of them, but only in order to invest the money into real estate – so to say, to buy a house of our own. Please don't be offended – I know you are the most kind hostess, but we have treaded upon your and your husband's hospitality for long enough, and for the sake of keeping up good relationship, it would be better for all of us, especially of your, um, numerous sons. Besides, Wendy and I thought it reasonable to look for a house within this district, maybe even next door to your own, so that you could communicate whenever you wish".
Mary Darling felt very excited.
"But of course, James, I'd like to be of some help to Wendy and you, especially when babies come around," she added with much feeling.
"As for my writing a book," at the mention of his future heirs the former buccaneer hardly knew where to look, "I indulged such thoughts myself, but this project will have to wait until I find a permanent source of income. Moreover, I have wasted enough time in my former existence , stagnating on that accursed island," his voice became bitter, "and I should know better than to go on wasting it now, when I am supposed to be the breadwinner. The problem is, that in my times a gentleman's range of activities was, to put it mildly, rather narrow…"
"Oh, yes", Mrs. Darling chuckled, "Army, navy, Church, or law. I know that."
"So you see," the ex-nobleman's tone grew nearly despondent, "as the first two variants are out of the question due to my…incapability, and the third variant is even more impossible for both canonical and ethical reasons, and so evidently is the fourth one, it seems that I am left neither here nor there…."
Driven by empathy, Mrs. Darling was just going to find the right words for her miserable son-in-law, who, overcame by melancholy went as far as starting washing the dishes, when the door opened and her daughter Wendy, now Mrs. Stuart, burst into the kitchen.
"Hello, James." She gave her husband a quick kiss. "Hello, Mummy! You'll never guess – the editor said they are going to publish my story! Of course, he handed it back to be re-written, you know, stylistic mistakes, and all that…"
"Oh, Wendy, what good news!" exclaimed Mrs. Darling, proudly giving her daughter a hug.
As for the husband of the aforesaid storyteller, he didn't look that much enthusiastic.
"Stylistic mistakes?" he snorted, continuing to do the dishes. "Mrs. Stuart, you are either too vain or too ignorant. Your mistakes in grammar are even more numerous than your middle brother's, judging from his last letter, and as for your punctuation…."
The newly wed Mrs. Stuart went red with indignation.
"James, that is not fair," she started, but was interrupted by her own mother.
"But of course! Why didn't it occur to me earlier!" cried Mrs. Darling seizing her son-in-law's only hand. "James, you could actually go in for teaching!"
Wendy's husband, having been so stunned by the sudden suggestion his mother-in-law imparted, had to sit down in order not to faint in front of the ladies.
"Teaching? Madam, did I get it right? You advise me to become a schoolmaster???!!!!"
Wendy's face lit up again, all anger vanished.
"But of course, my love, that's a great idea! It's a pity Mother was the first to suggest it, and not myself! With your vast experience in dealing with boys…. By the way, Mother, I forgot to mention that on my way home I met none other than your old school friend, Mrs. Harker! She told me she was going to visit us one of these days….Lord, but I'm thirsty! James, darling, will you please make me a cup of tea?"
"Done for," thought the former Captain, handing the teacup over to his overexcited young wife.