The day was gray and cloudy, but that's the way it was every day on the Isle of the Lost. Outside Serpent Prep, the cold air and drizzle blew, hissing; and inside, Harry Hook burst into the classroom with his usual brash and threatening air, and frowned when he saw that his best friend, Uma, was not there.
Of course, it was common for students to be late (arriving early was considered losers), but Harry himself was already twenty minutes late. Sulking, he sat at one of the desks at the back of the classroom and saved a seat for her. There was a lot of commotion around, the students were playing cruel jokes on each other, but no one dared to disturb Harry. Whoever had dared to done it, would have been a fool, because the boy carried a hook with him, and he was always ready to use it.
Uma, who had grown up these past six years to be a beautiful, intimidating, and deadly young woman, walked through the door a few minutes before class began. She was soaked, her long blue-green braids were damp, and Harry could smell the subtle shrimp scent they gave off when she sat next to him.
"Hello?" Harry asked, noticing that Uma seemed distant that morning. The wind slammed into one of the broken windows, sending a blast of rain inward. There were grunts and screams, but Uma was unfazed. She looked at Harry and handed him a paper bag of fried potatoes.
"Here," she said, feigning nonchalance.
Harry grunted with delight; he hadn't eaten since he was at Ursula's tavern the day before. He popped the potatoes into his mouth.
"I thought you were going to stay on the ship overnight," Harry commented, his mouth full. Uma sighed.
"I did," and she didn't say more, but Harry assumed she had gotten up early and gone to her mother's tavern to bring him breakfast. He didn't say anything either. It wasn't strange, he thought, they were best friends and they used to take care of each other. One could not survive on the Isle without an alliance. If Uma had nothing to put into her mouth, then Harry didn't either. He was loyalty to his captain. "I dreamed of your mother."
Harry nearly choked. When they were kids, he was sometimes baffled by how direct Uma was. She never beat around the bush, always impatient and determined, but there were still times when her honesty was unexpected, like now. The dream. It was not unusual. Harry knew that Uma had been dreaming of the bonfire day at the Jolly Roger for several years; he always thought that memory was stuck in her memory because it was the closest thing she had ever known as family. Uma was practically alone in the world; her mother did not care about her. It wasn't that Harry's father was better these days, but there was a time when someone did care for him: his mother.
Uma was lonelier and more hurt than ever when she met her, so it was natural for her to remember, right? Of course, he was never going to comment on any of those things. Mentioning it, on the Isle, could be like implying that Uma was weak, and she was not.
"The song?" Harry asked, although he already knew the answer.
She nodded.
"Don't get too obsessed with it, Uma. It can be easy to go crazy, and I don't want to see you as my da," he joked, and Uma frowned. She was stubborn, one of the things Harry liked about her personality.
"It's important," she argued, "I still don't know why. But I know. "
And Harry didn't dare laugh because even though they used to joke, he would never have made fun of something she really believed in. Uma had that look again, that mixture of exasperation and curiosity that told him that this time she was not going to forget so easily, that she would not rest until she found answers to her questions.
And although Harry denied it, he was curious too. His mother had made them promise that they would never sing the song and, despite being raised as children of the Isle, willing to break all promises and rules, they never even thought of ignoring those words, although that did not imply that they could not sing the song in their minds.
Class started and they spent the next half hour listening to Accelerated Piracy, but all Harry could hear were the stanzas and his mother's voice in his mind.
While up aloft in storm, from me his absence mourn
And firmly pray, arrive the day, he's never more to roam.
Lunchtime at Serpent Prep was brutal. If you had managed to bring something from home, you'd better eat it soon, or someone bigger than you might steal it from you. If you had stolen something from someone, it was best to eat it soon, because someone else could steal it from you. Harry and Uma were used to that, and while they never shied away from a good fight, sometimes they just weren't in the mood to bully kids and eat stolen lunches, so they hid high up in the far part of the tower. With the rain outside and the walls of Serpent Prep wetter than ever, that was one of the days they preferred to hide to plot in peace. The two were heading to the tower stairs when they heard a puny brat taunting, laughing with his friends.
"Old Hook fell off the mast and nearly killed himself. That was really funny. You should have seen Smee's face when…" he broke off in mid-sentence when Harry hit him in the face with his hook. It wasn't that he wanted to defend the honor of his father, of which there was not much left, but he had to make sure that no one dared laugh at a Hook ever again. The boy's friends fled like rats as he crawled as far away from Harry as possible.
"Do you find hooks funny now?" He asked, his voice dripping with danger, but Uma touched his arm, drawing his attention.
"Go Harry. I take care of this and reach you there."
Not for the first time in the long years of their friendship, Harry wondered how she had gotten to know him so well. Because his father could be a drunk, moron, ruffian and selfish, but there was a moment when he cared for Harry and his sisters, and although on the Island any kind of affection was a weakness, he still wanted to know if his father was alive or not.
He nodded, forming an evil smile as he saw how Uma's eyes became threatening and dangerous as she turned her attention to the poor soul that had been unlucky enough. Harry ran back to the docks as fast as he could. He didn't need to look back to be able to trust Uma to take care of the matter.
The Jolly Roger had been one of the finest and most elegant ships of its time. When Harry was a child, there were still treasures hidden on the tables, fine fabrics covering the glass windows, and fine silver dishes to eat their rotten food; when CJ was born and Harry's mother was weakened for a few months, Captain Hook traded silver and jewels for something that was even more valuable on the isle, even rarer and more coveted: medicines. And that was the greatest and closest act of love he ever did for his wife or anyone. And it was forbidden to mention it.
Smee was on deck when Harry arrived, talking to Harriet. Harry's older sister was someone to fear on the isle, her crew was fierce and ruthless, but Uma was building a reputation even harsher than Harriet's, Harry had recently noticed. There were people in the docks who feared her more than they feared his sister, which almost made him smile. Uma had been born a Sea Witch, like her mother, and she was; but she became a pirate, like him and his family, and she was excellent at it.
"Harry, boy!" Smee exclaimed when he saw him. Harriet directed her attention to him as he leaped with ease over the barrels and ropes on the deck. He could have surrounded them, sure, but what was the fun of it? Harriet's smug expression softened a little, barely a fraction of a second, at the sight of him.
"Isn't CJ with you?" She asked, in her usual bossy voice. It irritated Harry a bit. It had no resemblance to Uma's strong voice that, although she also gave him orders, urged him to do whatever she wanted. She captivated him somehow, her Sea Witch charm, he guessed. "I sent her to find you."
"I found out by accident," said Harry, "well? He still alive? "
Smee exhaled, suppressing a chill from the rain.
"He's alive and your sister already did the broken bone count, but he's unconscious."
"That could also be because he's drowning in alcohol," Harriet snorted. "Anyway, I must get some supplies because we have to take turns looking after him, even for today. You will stay here until CJ comes."
"Uma is coming too," Harry reported, almost wanting to imply that he was staying because he had to wait for his best friend, not because Harriet said so. His sister rolled her eyes and hid a smile. Harry watched her get off the ship and walk along the dock in the rain.
Smee left him alone and Harry headed for the captain's cabin. He wasn't surprised to find his father stretched out on the old bed, with his tangled black curls and haggard face. In his old days, Captain Hook had been considered an attractive and dangerous man, and Harry sometimes thought that was what had drawn his mother to him, because he did not think it had been because of the big heart of James Hook. Now, the old man was rarely sober, and he looked skinny and finished.
The sickly light from outside was pouring in, Harry went to the large window to draw the curtains and then shook himself. The cold was beginning to soak into his bones and his boots were soaked, so he headed into his room to get some dry clothes. He was taking off his shirt (which was a shame because he really liked that hole shirt) when Uma's voice sounded from the hallway.
"Harry?"
"In my room!" He replied. Uma and CJ opened the door without knocking. Her younger sister made a disgusted sound and the two of them entered.
"How is he?" CJ asked, squeezing her hair onto Harry's bed. He knew she was only doing it to annoy him, so he pretended that he hadn't even noticed, which made her even more angry.
Suddenly, Uma found anywhere in Harry's room interesting except him, though the boy didn't notice. He pulled the dry, sleeveless T-shirt over his head, then pulled on his usual coat. He also changed his boots for the only other pair he had.
"Drowning in alcohol so I guess his broken bones shouldn't even hurt, but Harriet and Smee say he'll be fine. Apparently, we have to stay and watch the old drunk until he wakes up.
CJ snorted.
"Like I don't have better things to do!" She growled indignantly, but there was a little relief in her voice.
The three of them left Harry's room and headed for the captain's cabin, CJ grumbling all the way about how bossy Harriet was. Harry approached Uma.
"Are you going to work today?" He asked, knowing the answer beforehand. With Ursula, Uma always had to work. She was mad at her since she found out that she had had Triton's trident in her hands and lost it, so she started giving her double shifts, day and night, and Uma ended up exhausted, fleeing to the Lost Revenge to get some rest.
That left Uma very little time to be in the Jolly Roger, as before. There were times when she was so busy that even CJ and Harriet would ask Harry if she was still alive. After the shrimp incident, Uma had spent a lot of time with Harry, and the two of them used to hide in the secret places on the ship, planning adventures and playing games. That was long before they grew up and realized that they would never go anywhere; before they understood that they could not escape the Isle.
There was a time when Harry's mother fed Uma, sometimes when she could, and Harriet proclaimed herself her older sister (causing CJ to cry because she wanted to be, for once, the oldest) and the daughter of the Sea Witch, who was called Shrimpy all over the Isle, found a family.
Before Harry's mother died.
Before the family broke up.
"Of course I have to work," Uma snorted. "But I'll stay here until my shift begins. Anyway, what was your father doing up there? "
"Same question," CJ said, looking bored. She paced around her father's room, curiously analyzing his things. Harry would say sniffing, rather.
"I have no idea," Harry replied. "Let's wait for Harriet to come back, maybe she knows."
The girl appeared almost a quarter of an hour later, carrying a bag with used bandages and other things. She began her makeshift first aid work (that was the only kind they knew on the Island) and, when Harry asked, she sighed and laughed bitterly.
"Smee said he was looking at an old map. He said that he wanted to check a location, but I don't understand why. The Jolly Roger hasn't sailed in twenty years, nor will it ever sail again, so I don't see the point. He must be crazier than we think."
"The map," said Uma, "was it of the Isle?"
Harriet frowned.
"I do not know. Smee said it flew when Dad fell, and it got lost in the water."
The three of them fell silent after that. Harry didn't think too much of it, but he thought Uma would want to know if there was anything worth looking for on that damned isle. After the failure of the trident search, something in her had awakened stronger than ever: too much desire for freedom, thirst for adventure. Sometimes, when Harry caught her gaze, he would see her lost in distant places, which scared him a bit.
Suddenly Captain Hook shifted a little on the bed. Harriet forced him to stay still, and he fell back into his drunken sleep, muttering. He said nonsense, and none of the four paid attention until they heard the words clearly.
"Disdain ... glitterin 'old."
His trailing voice made it a bit difficult to understand the words, but it was clear to all four of them. Because, like Uma, no one had forgotten the night at the bonfire, no one forgot the promise, not the voice of Harry's mother, not the song.
Nor did they forget that it was forbidden.
The storm was rocking the ship so hard that even though Uma didn't mind getting a little wet, she had to admit she would make it to the Chip Shoppe more soaked than a fish fresh out of the sea, so she sent her mother to hell and stayed on the Jolly Roger. It wouldn't hurt that old witch to take care of her own shop for once.
It was the middle of the afternoon when Harriet remembered that she had actually gotten some food, so the four of them headed for the ship's small kitchen. Harry let his sisters step forward before taking Uma by the arm. She tensed at the contact, and then relaxed when she felt Harry's familiar hand on her skin. He was the only one who could touch her without her permission. Ever since Mal and the shrimp happened, Uma shunned any kind of physical contact with other people. And Harry hated that second it took her to recognize him, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it. On the Island, the memories linger and haunt.
"I know what you're thinking," he assured, and they both knew he was referring to the song. "Uma, I'm serious: I don't want you to go crazy."
Because Harry knew very well the difference between a bit of evil and a taste for impertinence, and the madness that led you to not recognize others. Sometimes Captain Hook would forget who he, CJ, and Harriet were, and kept yelling for Harry's mother. He sometimes forgot that she had died. He sometimes he went crazy.
Obsessed.
"But you have to admit it's not a coincidence," Uma said, "it must mean something. It has to mean something."
She couldn't keep despair from creeping into her voice a bit, and Harry looked at her in surprise. Even being best friends, Uma seldom let her weaknesses show so openly. She said not to have emotions, to be cold like the waves of the sea. Harry was the one who wasn't afraid to show himself as he was in front of her, because that was his kind of dangerousness. On the Isle, what could be more dangerous than a guy who dares you to challenge him by openly showing his weaknesses? As if he had nothing to fear.
"It could," Harry admitted, "but we don't know. He is drunk."
The storm rocked the ship once more, hard, and Harry had to hold onto the wall to keep from falling. He was used to it, but Uma hadn't been on the Jolly Roger for so long that the jolt sent her straight at Harry. She bumped into his chest and he grabbed her with one arm as the ship straightened again. She hurried away, not meeting his eyes. Was it his idea, or had something changed a bit between them on the trip to the Isle of the Doomed? Harry dismissed the idea immediately, scared. He forced himself to think of something else.
"Let's go to the kitchen before CJ starts yelling", Harry suggested.
"Fine", Uma agreed, still not looking at him.