Roll Back the Tide

by Twainsyke

In young Billy Jukes' opinion, the day could not have started out better. The morning sun shone brightly as soon as it rose, evaporating nearly every trace of the savage storm that had blown over Neverland the night before. What a gullywasher THAT storm had been; the crashing thunder had been almost completely drowned out by the storm's pounding rains. The lightning was just as severe, reaching its white hot fingers across the horizon, blinding fearful watching eyes with its brilliance. The winds had blown so hard it had driven away large branches and sent them straight through the Jolly Roger's sails, all the while howling like a creature tormented.

But now the sun was drying up the soaked island, and creatures all over were coming out of hiding. So would Peter and his band of Lost Boys, especially on a day as fine as this. Assuming that Peter Pan would be twice as eager to pay them a visit on this fine day, Hook had assigned Jukes the position of lookout in the crow's nest while he went off to see that the mainsails were properly repaired. Jukes scanned the skies with the spyglass, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, just the occasional passing gull and a few fluffy white clouds.

As an afterthought, he lowered the spyglass down to where the sky met the seas. It was then that he noticed something strange; it was as if the fine line separating the sky and sea had grown bolder. He blinked, rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, and brushed his thick black hair from his eyes before looking through the spyglass once more. He had not imagined it; the line was now even thicker than before. He was so busy gaping that he didn't hear the sound of Robert Mullins, his shipmate, climbing up to stand beside him, and didn't even acknowledge his presence until he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"What's on yer mind, lad? You've been starin' out to sea for the past several minutes. You see somethin' out there?" Jukes stopped peering through the spyglass and looked at Mullins thoughtfully. "Well, I'm not sure, but...something doesn't look right out there." He handed Mullins the spyglass and pointed. "Take a look. Doesn't it look like there's something out there in the water?" Mullins frowned as he looked. It appeared to be something huge moving rapidly in their direction; dark and taking up a very large part of the visible sea. A sense of uneasiness overcame the pirate; the same uneasiness he got whenever he sensed evil afoot. Just as he lowered the spyglass, Hook's voice reached their ears. "Jukes! Mullins! You dead-eyed lollygagging dolts! Get down here at once and give your report!"

They both began to climb down, neither of them wanting to be the first to reach the deck. Jukes was the unfortunate one, and no sooner had his feet hit the deck when Hook's hook had him by his bandanna and dangling several inches from the ground. "I couldn't help but observe, Mister Jukes, that your attention seemed to be diverted toward the ocean rather than the mainland, where since I last perceived, Peter Pan flies from. Explain yourself, else I cleave you from stem to stern!" Before Jukes could inform his captain in a choked voice that to explain himself he needed to breathe, he was roughly thrown onto the deck and into the enormous shadow of his glowering captain. He stayed down as he spoke. "Well captain, I was lookin' for Pan at first, but then I chanced to look out to sea. Something strange is going on with the water."

"Something strange, says you, Mister Jukes? Is it even remotely within your meager abilities for you to be more specific?"

Mullins suddenly jumped in. "Sir, I saw it too, and havin' more seagoin' experience than the lad, I can tell you it looks like there's some sort of impurity in the water. Here, have a look for yourself." Hook snatched the offered spyglass and peered into it, although he didn't need the glass's magnification to see it now; it was closer than ever. Hook's frown was immense as he lowered the glass and turned to his crew. "Well, whatever devilry this is we shall soon know. Smee! You and Mason ready the longboat. The two of you shall row out there and collect a sample of that tainted tide. Bring it here, that I may determine the enigma that is infecting this isolated piece of the ocean."

The two worked quickly, for they too wanted to know what it was. It was now closer than before, only several hundred feet away from the opening of Kidd Creek Bay. Hook watched rather impatiently as the longboat grew smaller and was actually lost from view amid the murky dark water. Several minutes passed, though it seemed like hours before the rest of the crew saw the longboat sailing back toward the Jolly Roger. Mason was the first to climb aboard, with a bucket of the strange water in hand. Without a word he dumped its contents onto the deck; slick, smelly, dark water. The pirates recoiled as Mason turned to Hook. "Its oil, Cap'n; no doubt about it. The ocean's full of it."

Oil? The pirates looked at each other wordlessly, then out to sea, as if they expected to see the smoke or incoming debris of a wrecked ship, but there was nothing but the oil. Finally they all stared at Hook. His blue eyes swirled with turmoil, like forget-me-nots bowing under a gale, and his face had suddenly become as expressionless as though it were made of stone. He ordered curtly for Mason to mop up the oily water, then without another word he retired to his cabin, where he locked the door and paced, alone with his thoughts.

"Wendyyyyyyyyy!" The small cry echoed in the early afternoon air as Wendy flew to the shore edge to investigate. What she saw took her breath away. The water was oily as far out as she could see. Dead fish, black seaweed and strange debris littered the shore, soaking in inky puddles. There was Nibs, Slightly, Curly, and the Twins, pulling Michael out of the shallow water. The Lost Boys were tainted black up to their knees, but poor Michael was almost covered in it. Wendy found it hard to believe that not half a day ago the water had been as clear as it had always been, and now it was full of glossy, smelly oil, swirling around in a hundred bent rainbows. She ran at once to Michael and used the hem of her dress to wipe his face while Nibs told her what had happened. "We were just heading to the shore to go for a swim, when Slightly here said the water up ahead looked 'slightly strange'. We all stopped, but Michael ran on ahead and went right in. He started to yell, so we ran in to pull him out."

Michael looked at Wendy, shaking all over and tears in his eyes. "I was afraid; the water felt really funny and it smelled bad. I was afraid I couldn't get out." Wendy held him close and assured him that he was safe. She looked up in time to see the twins examining some of the strange debris that had collected on the beach. Most of it was too warped and damaged to identify; scraps of cloth, bits of plastic, nothing very interesting. But what puzzled her most was that there was no wood among all that debris, save for the usual piece or two of driftwood that floated ashore ever so often. A spill this serious could only have been caused by a damaged ship, but how could a ship get damaged or sink without having a single piece of wood drift away? The ship had to have been wrecked somehow; no one would do such a thing as this on purpose. But there was no wood; no evidence of a ship save for a few strange pieces of plastic and cloth. For all she knew, it may not have been a ship at all. But if it wasn't a ship than what was it that had been carrying all this oil?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Curly's voice. He was flying a few feet off the ground and peering out at the first hundred or so feet of tainted ocean. "Hey, look at that over there. What do you suppose that is?" He was pointing to a long, white object, nearly as big as a full-grown person, floating among the oily water, rising and falling as the billows carried it closer to shore. Save for a large white spot on the very top, the object was covered in oil. Curly started to fly out to retrieve it, but Wendy stopped him. "You boys are already messy enough without going back out there to chase things in the water. If you really want to know what it is, why don't you wait until it reaches the shore? Then you can take a look at it."

Curly reluctantly agreed, and all eyes were on the object as it slowly floated closer and closer. Finally, it came to rest on the sand; a large clump covered in oily seaweed. Curly was the first to run over and start brushing off the flotsam clinging to the object. Suddenly as he brushed a large kelp leaf away, he gave a yell and drew back like he'd been stung. The others leaped away and stared at Curly, who was looking at the mound with an expression of horror on his tanned face. Wendy walked over and looked at the spot where Curly had been brushing the kelp away, and gasped. Right where the leaf had been, there was a small hole that was unmistakably a mouth. It was lined top and bottom with razor sharp teeth, which along with the rest of the mouth was stained with oil. Seeing that it wasn't moving, Wendy knelt down and quickly began to clear the rest of the seaweed away, signaling the boys to help her. When they had cleared it all away, they looked down at the creature they had uncovered.

It was about the size of a mermaid, and clearly female, but definitely not a mermaid. Instead of a tail, legs were visible, looking almost human save for their lack of toes and the transparent fins sticking out of them. There were tiny clawed hands that were starting to unconsciously clutch at the wet sand, with the same odd black marks and fins that existed on the creature's legs. Two small pink objects that resembled wings protruded from her chest and clung there like a pair of water weeds. Looking at the head one could see short, messily cut hair that could have been any color but for the oil soaking it and dripping onto the sand. There were long tapered ears, and two large, faded orange circles; the creature's closed eyes. Except for the hands, the creature was motionless, oil trickling out of its mouth and a few small sounds from its throat that could only be its labored breathing.

Wendy and the boys continued to stand there and stare with their mouths open at the half-dead creature. Little Michael was the first to break the silence. "What is that, Wendy?" She held Michael close as she kept her gaze fixed on the creature. "I don't know, Michael. I'm sure I've never seen one before." Slightly was the first to walk up to it and take a good look. He listened to the sounds it was making and straightened up. "If you ask me, this thing is slightly in need of assistance. And a good cleaning too. All that oil can't be good for it." Not to be outdone, Nibs placed his hands on his hips sarcastically. "Well of course it isn't good for it! Come on; we have to get it to some water. Since the ocean's polluted, how about we try the Mermaid's Lagoon? That's probably the cleanest body of water at the moment."

Wendy smiled. "What a good idea, Nibs!" Slightly muttered something under his breath while Wendy flew off to get some rags and clean water from the Underground House. Once she returned, they proceeded to wash the oil off, adding a little soap when the oil became stubborn, until the creature was oil-free. They could now see the creature's purplish-grey hair and the sky blue and white skin. But her eyes were still screwed shut, and her breath was still ragged. "Now," said Nibs once they were done, "Let's get it to the Lagoon." He walked over casually and picked the creature up underneath her arms.

Suddenly, the eyes flew open, and they all caught a glimpse of two bright orange orbs before the head lunged downward at Nibs' left arm. He yelled and dropped his load, which fell with a thud onto the sand. He grasped his arm painfully, blood seeping through his fingers. "It-it bit me! That thing bit me!" He let go of his arm to expose the wound; about six deep marks in a half circle on his arm. As Wendy bandaged the bite with a leftover rag, Nibs glared at the creature. "I was only trying to help it! Why'd it have to go and bite me?" Slightly hid a smile. "Well, maybe it doesn't like being touched by grimy humans."

Nibs glared at Slightly, but Wendy nodded, not seeing any direct insult in the remark. "You're probably right. It must not be used to being touched. Twins, why don't you two build a stretcher, and we can take it to the Lagoon that way." The Twins nodded, and in no time they had assembled a stretcher big enough to support the creature, and light enough to still be easy to carry when soaked in water. They carefully put the creature into the stretcher and proceeded to carry her to the Lagoon. She made no resistance, but once or twice she raised her head and made a few noises that reminded Wendy of a distressed cat. But after a few times the creature ceased and continued to lie there and be transported.

Finally they reached the Lagoon. The twins, who were the carriers, waded out into the shallows, and lowered the stretcher into the water. At first the creature remained still, but after a few seconds the orange eyes opened again, and it gracefully slid out of the stretcher and into the water. It whirled around and poked its head halfway out, looking at the group standing on the shores of the Lagoon, watching to see what it would do next. For several long seconds the creature stared back at them, then suddenly with a soft splash it dove back under and disappeared into the Lagoon's clear waters.

For hours on end it seemed as if the only sound to be heard on board the Jolly Roger was the steady ceaseless pounding of Hook's footsteps as he paced inside his cabin. An eerie sort of quiet had settled over the craft ever since the incident with the oily water. Even though the evidence had long since been mopped from the deck, it was no longer necessary to see that over half of the waters surrounding the small island had been contaminated with oil. The air reeked of oil and dead fish; not a single gull could be seen or even heard voicing its complaints to the sky, which was as clear as it was that morning. The pirates themselves went about their business, but quietly, as if they feared any sound would just make things worse.

"The captain still in his cabin?" Starkey whispered as Smee appeared on deck. "Aye that he is," Smee said, a note of annoyance in his voice, "And he told me 'e didn' want to be bothered by anyone, so you can just go back to yer duties an' mind you keep it down." Starkey shrugged and walked over to Mason, who had overheard the conversation and was rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Now this is a rum puzzle an' no mistake." he said as Starkey approached, "True there's oil all over in the water, but the capn's been less upset by worse. Why's he all shook up now? Don' make much sense if'n ya ask me." Starkey just nodded, as if he was only listening with half an ear. He had his own thoughts about all this to occupy him; he didn't need Mason's.

Silence continued to reign on the vessel. Even Cookson, as he stirred his pot full of unidentifiable sludge, was not to be heard whistling or even humming. The same question drifted about in the minds of everyone on board; what, they wondered, was drifting about in the mind of their captain?