"Avast!"
Eight-year-old Molly Hooper spun to face her attacker. Her pirate hat slipped over her eyes. She pushed it back to see a boy a little older than her dressed in all black with a shaggy black mass of faux whiskers hanging from his face. A couple of quick steps brought him from the footbridge to where she defended the upper platform of the central playground structure.
"I said, 'AVAST'!"
Molly shakily lifted her wooden sword. She had never met another child dressed as a pirate before. The boy grinned and struck into an elegant quarte stance with one hand back beside his head. His plastic foil, its end blunted by a ball, was held at a slight angle to his torso. She rubbed her lips together and tried to counter his pose.
His nose wrinkled and his pale sea-blue eyes narrowed. He was an unusual looking boy. His eyes were quite slanted, he had a long, lean face and lips that looked like they had been painted on like her favorite doll. Wild, dark curls poked out from beneath his black leather pirate's hat. The boy flicked his foil and jabbed gently at her a couple times. Molly whacked her heavy sabre one way and the other. However, he was much too quick and deflected her thrusts with ease. The ball-end of his weapon poked her shoulder in a victorious jab.
"How do you expect to defend your ship with such weak skills, Pirate?" he scoffed.
Molly pursed her lips. Her face went warm. She pushed up the sleeves of her dad's over-sized shirt and raised her blade again. Again, he breached her defenses and tapped each of her shoulders. She growled and waved her sword around.
"I-I am not weak, Black Beard!"
The boy stood up straight. He dropped the tip of his foil to the floor.
"I never said you were weak, Pirate. I said your skills are weak. Who are you supposed to be anyway?"
Molly lifted her chin. "I am 'Back from the dead Red', but I bet you don't know her."
"You mean Jacquotte Delahaye? The female pirate whose mother died in childbirth? The one who took care of her disabled brother when her father died and faked her own death only to rise again, thus earning her the moniker you mentioned? I know you well then, 'Red', but you need more than your fearsome reputation to advance your pirate career. You need an education."
Molly grinned. He was a boy a little too in love with himself, but she liked him. He was nice. He didn't laugh at her like the others.
"Let's do this, Black Beard!"
So, the boy showed Molly a few moves, taught her how to keep her weight on her back foot, and in short order, they were dueling (albeit, with some restraint on his part). Across the park, a widower and a well-to-do couple marveled at the sight of their socially reticent children playing together.
"I cannot believe it. I simply cannot believe it. He has never engaged with another child this way," Mrs. Holmes wiped a tear from her eye, "your daughter must be very special."
Mr. Hooper nodded. "Molly never finds fault with anyone or anything. She is a very old soul and wise … and determined. She already knows that she wants to be a doctor."
Mr. Holmes smiled. "That's lovely. Keep encouraging her, she will make an excellent physician one day."
Mr. Hooper shrugged. "Ah, yes, I will, of course. Hopefully she can keep up her marks and get herself a scholarship."
The Holmes exchanged glances. Mr. Holmes' face flushed at the realization such an education might be unaffordable for the working-class man and his daughter in her borrowed pirate garb. Mrs. Holmes' lips set in a determined line at that very moment. One way or the other, little Miss Pirate Hooper was going to be a fixture in her son's life and she would ensure that when the time came, the girl had a chance to pursue her dreams.
"Sir, do you come to this park often?" she asked.
Mr. Hooper smiled. "Every Sunday."
"Would you mind very much if we brought Sherlock here again to play with Molly?"
He chuckled. "Not at all, but I will warn you, once Molly decides he's her friend, he's stuck with her for life. She 'keeps' people."
Mrs. Holmes smirked. "Excellent."