PART ELEVEN: The Reluctant Captain
Another restless night at sea; though the ocean outside was now dead calm, Stooge Viller tossed and turned on his bed, unable to get to sleep until well past midnight. Part of the reason was due to the fact that there was a pesky little rat – one of the four-legged variety – scurrying around inside the wall and occasionally making gnawing sounds. Before he finally dropped off, Stooge made a mental note to check the supplies in the hold the next morning, to see if some rat poison might be stashed there.
When he woke up a few short hours later, sunlight streaming into his eyes, he rolled over and groaned: "Ohhhhh ... Mumbles, I had the craziest dream last night. I dreamt you went nuts and tried to blow up the ship, and then you ... uh ... oh, yeah..." The sight of the empty bunk across the room that had not been slept in brought him back to reality like a splash of cold seawater. Mumbles was gone. Stooge had lost his crime buddy. His initial anger over the perceived betrayal was slowly being replaced with depression.
Before he could get a really good mope going, however, somebody pounded on the door to his cabin. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty – time to wake up!" came the unmistakable voice of Flattop. "We're about to draw straws to find out who's gonna be Captain today."
As far as Stooge was concerned, Oodles could be Captain for the remainder of the voyage, for all he cared. Nevertheless, he dragged on his clothes and made his way to the forward deck, where the others were impatiently waiting. B-B Eyes was holding a brown paper bag with the ends of seven broom straws poking out of the top of it. "'Bout time you showed up, Viller. You're slower than a tortoise with three wooden legs, see?" This produced snickers from several of the other criminals.
"Bug off," Stooge growled irritably as he joined the group of potential captains. "Let's just get this stupid ritual over with so I can go back to my cabin. I didn't get much sleep last night."
"Sheesh, what a grouch!" Itchy commented as he scratched his shoulder. "What's your problem, anyway? Aren't you through being hung-over yet?"
"Nah, he ain't hung-over." The look on the Brow's face was something midway between a smirk and a sneer. "He's just carrying a torch for Mumbles, right, Viller?"
"I am not!" he shot back. Where, Stooge wondered, had that come from?
Pruneface grimaced. "Save it for later, you buffoons. Just select a straw and we'll see who gets custody of the treasure map today."
With the exception of B-B Eyes and Sketch Paree, they all reached for a straw. Stooge deliberately chose what appeared to be the shortest one – but to his surprise, it just kept coming out of the bag, until it was obvious that he was to be that day's Captain and keeper of the treasure map, which Paree grudgingly turned over to him.
"Any orders, 'Captain' Viller?" the Brow asked half-mockingly.
"Yeah," replied Stooge. "Just shut up and stay outta my face."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Back on that first afternoon of the voyage, Stooge had looked forward to possibly becoming the ship's Captain for a day. Getting to boss the others around, getting temporary custody of the treasure map, getting to wear the Captain's cap and sleep in the opulent Captain's cabin – it had all seemed like it would be great fun at the time. He and Mumbles had even made a wager as to which one of them would end up being appointed Captain first.
This, of course, had been before the ill-fated party of that particular night, the results of which had rendered the wager null and void. Now it all seemed so pointless. There probably wasn't any treasure where they were heading, anyway. It was all going to be for nothing.
A familiar voice intruded on his self-pity wallow. "Hey, uh, Skipper?"
Stooge glanced up in annoyance to see the Mole carrying a telescope under his arm. "Don't call me Skipper, y'dope. What d'you think this is, Gilligan's Island? And you don't have to call me Captain, either. Just call me Stooge, same as always."
"Ok, Ski– uh, Stooge. It's just that I spotted somethin' while lookin' through this spyglass, and I thought maybe I should tell you, you bein' Cap'n and all..."
"All right, what did you see?" Stooge asked in a totally disinterested tone. "A flying fish, I suppose? Or maybe a mermaid?"
The Mole shook his unsightly head. "Nope, nothin' like that. It looked more like a life raft."
"Ohh, a life raft..." Two seconds later, the significance sunk in. "A LIFE RAFT?! Where? Where did you see it? Is it still there? Show me!"
The Mole started to lead the way, but Stooge was already racing to the wheelhouse. Quickly, he flipped the switch on the Dutch Master's navigational computer from "automatic pilot" to "manual," and then he switched off the ship's engine. If the Mole's find was what he thought it was ... if it was who he thought it was...
Then, suddenly recalling the crack the Brow had made earlier, Stooge abruptly became suspicious. "Mole, I swear, if this is some prank the others put you up to, I'm gonna–"
"No, really, I saw it, I really did!" The Mole seemed to be in earnest. "I found this spyglass, and was hopin' to spot that island we're supposed to be headed for, and I noticed this flashin' light far out across the water. I focused the spyglass on it, and there was this thing that looked like a rubber life raft. It was too far away for me to make out what was in it, though... There, see it? That little flash of light out there...?"
Could it be...? Or -- could it be ... something else? And if it is you-know-who, what do you suppose is going to happen when the others see him? Find out in the next installment...
