D.B. scurried back into his shadow. I didn't blame him. He was much younger than I was, and most likely more frightened. The door was opened by the young Irish lad, (I recognized from the dingy) who walked in first, followed by a handsome Italian who wore a patch over his eye. Time seemed to stop and I held my breath when the next man walked in, ever so suave.
He wore clean, newly-shined, black shoes, with silk socks that were met at the knees by knickers, most deliquitly stitched, and a shirt so nice, it was fit for a prince. He had hair that fell in black curls, down to his shoulders, and sharp eyes that seemed to glow green. He wore a red tri-corner hat, which made me think he was of some importance. I didn't know what was happening, but I thought I was falling in love, which is odd to say, because I was scared for my life. Being in the company of these men made me want to curl up in a ball and become invinsible. Despite the dimness of the room I saw a glint of light reflect off something horrible. He wore a white glove on his left hand, but when I looked for its pair, I found a silver hook that winked at me with reflections. I covered my mouth and gasped at the sight of it. Who could be that horrible to do that to such a decent looking man? Yet, the other half of me insisted upon asking, who was brave enough to do that to such an evil man?
"Madame." he walked into the room, his shoes tapping against the floor with such elegance. "I am James Hook, Captain of the Jolly Roger." he paused for effect, "Who might you be?"
He stopped in front of me in a pose that made him seem striking, even in the poor light. I saw his long sword that came down to his knees and the jewels and decorations hanging on his scarlet overcoat. The sight of him took my breath away, but I wasn't sure if it because he looked most remarkable, or his sauvness made me uncertain and scared. I choked out with little breath I had "Kelly. My name is Kelly."
Hook smirked and turned to his mates. "She's a nice one, isn't she lads?" I didn't know what to make of this comment.
"Aye, she's a pretty lass." replied the Irish gentleman, as the Italian nodded in agreement.
He brought the iron hook up to his face and studied it, as if it had answers to his questions. "Tell me, Kelly," he paused and turned his attention towards me. He extended his arm in my direction, for me to take it, I did. "does the name Peter ring a bell to thee?" he spoke the name Peter through clentched teeth. A devious smile grew across his face, and it was the first warning, not to trust him. But did I listen? No.
As I thought about the question he linked my arm in his, with such gracefullness, my heart melted. "No sir, should it?" My brain was telling me to be careful, to be cautious, and my heart was telling me to trust him. After a milla-second to decide I figured, why listen to my brain? It was the one who abandoned me during the pop quizzes in math class, I had to follow my heart.
"Splendid!" he linked my arm with the Irish fellow and ordered, "Smee take her to a cabin, and tell cook we have a special guest." he said it with such a tone, that a chuckle should have followed it.
Hook stayed behind with the Italian and Smee guided me to different quarters. I glanced backwards and saw the door closing. What was I getting myself into?
Days went by so rapidly, I hardly noticed the difference between sunrise and sunset. I had fallen in love with this captain, despite the dear that still tugged at me inside. I learned to bury it, cover it with thoughts of his certainess and laughter I shared with men, I thought I no longer feared. The Captain was not much older then me, but seemed much more experienced about issues in life. When I was younger, and still believed in Santa Claus, I had always thought pirates to be... well the opposite of this crew. They never, in my presence, slit a mans throat for a pint of ale, nor did they through men overboard because the other was caught cheating at one of their many pirate games.
I spent the days catering to the men. At first I was to be their mother, though they called me Kelly. But soon a few of the men warmed up to me, swamping stories about adventures and war. Most stories were about their arch enemy, Peter. Peter killed this man, Peter stole that treasure..... that horrible Peter. I was ready to fight him myself.
Many men, though, did not warm up to me. Some tripped me as I walked by, carrying a tray of food, or they threw their knives inches from my face, purposely missing me. Others made up cruel songs one of these were often heard while Captain was getting his nightcap. Which is when I would be cleaning up the mess hall and the words rung through the corridors.
Kelly is the Cap'ns wench
Kellys heads as thick as a bench
and when it comes time to fight
Kelly's head is out of sight.
They often made up jigs and danced on deck as I was rinsing dish after dish. I never cried though. I kept my head erect and knew it was all worth it.
On many occassions I would be in my cabin, busily mending clothes, when men would start shouting and the sound of cold hard steel clashing together rung in my ears. I would rush to the door, but somebody would always be guarding it "Stay aloft madame, there are enemies onboard." When the sound died down, a few pirates were missing, and Smee would be outside my door, wiping his spectacles, but I was never able to see the enemy.
After James started to trust me, and accept me as a respectable woman, I inquiried him about the silver iron hook that hung from his right hand. It was a starry night in Neverland and I was on the deck, watching the waters splash againt the boat. James had come up to me warning about the dangers of being on deck alone at night. Thats when I questioned him about his hook. "Oh Kelly." he sighed leaning againt the edge, "some topics are better left undiscussed." I couldn't classify him as a pirate then. He seemed like a normal person, hurt by a tragic event. How could Peter say such nasty things about him, above all a codfish? No, that wasn't James at all.
"Is it that horrible of a subject to interrogate upon?" I asked sharply. I desperatly wanted to know.
He paused for a great length and sighed again. "Peter had cut it off." He replied through clentched teeth, as if the thought of it pierced his heart. For a moment rage seemed to surge through him, as if he was about to rip open his skin and seek vengance on this horrible deed. I put my hand on his arm, for him to continue. "We had attacked him and his brats on Marooners Rock when it happened. His own knife to his throat. I could taste victory in the air. I had him, Kelly, right where I wanted him. I was almost rid of him forever. Then he grabbed my sword from its holster, my own sword, and cut it off. One swish and it was gone. I fell backwards in horror, of the sight of my own blood. He dangled my hand in the air, danced with it, and threw it to a crocodile who happened to be swimming by." He paused once again, and turned his head towards the water, as if searching for that beast. "He wipped my blood off his knife and flew away. The croc licked his chomps and turned his direction towards me. The tide was coming in and Smee and Starkey pulled me onto a dingy and rowed for the ship, and the croc followed nearby." He wasn't as calm as he was before. I was beginning to regret asking such a question.
"That Peter sounds aweful!" I replied in shock, hoping it might calm him down.
It did not.
He grabbed me by the shoulders, squeezing me, as if I was a fish and he did not want me to get away."You do not know what he is capable of Kelly!" he let go of me and took a few steps away. "That is why I now forbid you to be on deck after sunset." He held his hands behind his back, not facing me, as if he was finished with his performance and was waiting for an Emmy to appear.
There was a long moment of realization and acceptance. I had no choice but to obey him. Afterall, he trusted me enough to tell me a story, such as this, and I felt I needed to make it up to him.
"Yes sir." I paused, gazing at the stars dancing in the water. "I am tired, I will retire to my bed chambers and see you in the morning."
The Captain did not speak a word, his gaze was fixated towards the sea. I wasn't sure if he had heard my last sentance, but I went to my cabin anyway.
He wore clean, newly-shined, black shoes, with silk socks that were met at the knees by knickers, most deliquitly stitched, and a shirt so nice, it was fit for a prince. He had hair that fell in black curls, down to his shoulders, and sharp eyes that seemed to glow green. He wore a red tri-corner hat, which made me think he was of some importance. I didn't know what was happening, but I thought I was falling in love, which is odd to say, because I was scared for my life. Being in the company of these men made me want to curl up in a ball and become invinsible. Despite the dimness of the room I saw a glint of light reflect off something horrible. He wore a white glove on his left hand, but when I looked for its pair, I found a silver hook that winked at me with reflections. I covered my mouth and gasped at the sight of it. Who could be that horrible to do that to such a decent looking man? Yet, the other half of me insisted upon asking, who was brave enough to do that to such an evil man?
"Madame." he walked into the room, his shoes tapping against the floor with such elegance. "I am James Hook, Captain of the Jolly Roger." he paused for effect, "Who might you be?"
He stopped in front of me in a pose that made him seem striking, even in the poor light. I saw his long sword that came down to his knees and the jewels and decorations hanging on his scarlet overcoat. The sight of him took my breath away, but I wasn't sure if it because he looked most remarkable, or his sauvness made me uncertain and scared. I choked out with little breath I had "Kelly. My name is Kelly."
Hook smirked and turned to his mates. "She's a nice one, isn't she lads?" I didn't know what to make of this comment.
"Aye, she's a pretty lass." replied the Irish gentleman, as the Italian nodded in agreement.
He brought the iron hook up to his face and studied it, as if it had answers to his questions. "Tell me, Kelly," he paused and turned his attention towards me. He extended his arm in my direction, for me to take it, I did. "does the name Peter ring a bell to thee?" he spoke the name Peter through clentched teeth. A devious smile grew across his face, and it was the first warning, not to trust him. But did I listen? No.
As I thought about the question he linked my arm in his, with such gracefullness, my heart melted. "No sir, should it?" My brain was telling me to be careful, to be cautious, and my heart was telling me to trust him. After a milla-second to decide I figured, why listen to my brain? It was the one who abandoned me during the pop quizzes in math class, I had to follow my heart.
"Splendid!" he linked my arm with the Irish fellow and ordered, "Smee take her to a cabin, and tell cook we have a special guest." he said it with such a tone, that a chuckle should have followed it.
Hook stayed behind with the Italian and Smee guided me to different quarters. I glanced backwards and saw the door closing. What was I getting myself into?
Days went by so rapidly, I hardly noticed the difference between sunrise and sunset. I had fallen in love with this captain, despite the dear that still tugged at me inside. I learned to bury it, cover it with thoughts of his certainess and laughter I shared with men, I thought I no longer feared. The Captain was not much older then me, but seemed much more experienced about issues in life. When I was younger, and still believed in Santa Claus, I had always thought pirates to be... well the opposite of this crew. They never, in my presence, slit a mans throat for a pint of ale, nor did they through men overboard because the other was caught cheating at one of their many pirate games.
I spent the days catering to the men. At first I was to be their mother, though they called me Kelly. But soon a few of the men warmed up to me, swamping stories about adventures and war. Most stories were about their arch enemy, Peter. Peter killed this man, Peter stole that treasure..... that horrible Peter. I was ready to fight him myself.
Many men, though, did not warm up to me. Some tripped me as I walked by, carrying a tray of food, or they threw their knives inches from my face, purposely missing me. Others made up cruel songs one of these were often heard while Captain was getting his nightcap. Which is when I would be cleaning up the mess hall and the words rung through the corridors.
Kelly is the Cap'ns wench
Kellys heads as thick as a bench
and when it comes time to fight
Kelly's head is out of sight.
They often made up jigs and danced on deck as I was rinsing dish after dish. I never cried though. I kept my head erect and knew it was all worth it.
On many occassions I would be in my cabin, busily mending clothes, when men would start shouting and the sound of cold hard steel clashing together rung in my ears. I would rush to the door, but somebody would always be guarding it "Stay aloft madame, there are enemies onboard." When the sound died down, a few pirates were missing, and Smee would be outside my door, wiping his spectacles, but I was never able to see the enemy.
After James started to trust me, and accept me as a respectable woman, I inquiried him about the silver iron hook that hung from his right hand. It was a starry night in Neverland and I was on the deck, watching the waters splash againt the boat. James had come up to me warning about the dangers of being on deck alone at night. Thats when I questioned him about his hook. "Oh Kelly." he sighed leaning againt the edge, "some topics are better left undiscussed." I couldn't classify him as a pirate then. He seemed like a normal person, hurt by a tragic event. How could Peter say such nasty things about him, above all a codfish? No, that wasn't James at all.
"Is it that horrible of a subject to interrogate upon?" I asked sharply. I desperatly wanted to know.
He paused for a great length and sighed again. "Peter had cut it off." He replied through clentched teeth, as if the thought of it pierced his heart. For a moment rage seemed to surge through him, as if he was about to rip open his skin and seek vengance on this horrible deed. I put my hand on his arm, for him to continue. "We had attacked him and his brats on Marooners Rock when it happened. His own knife to his throat. I could taste victory in the air. I had him, Kelly, right where I wanted him. I was almost rid of him forever. Then he grabbed my sword from its holster, my own sword, and cut it off. One swish and it was gone. I fell backwards in horror, of the sight of my own blood. He dangled my hand in the air, danced with it, and threw it to a crocodile who happened to be swimming by." He paused once again, and turned his head towards the water, as if searching for that beast. "He wipped my blood off his knife and flew away. The croc licked his chomps and turned his direction towards me. The tide was coming in and Smee and Starkey pulled me onto a dingy and rowed for the ship, and the croc followed nearby." He wasn't as calm as he was before. I was beginning to regret asking such a question.
"That Peter sounds aweful!" I replied in shock, hoping it might calm him down.
It did not.
He grabbed me by the shoulders, squeezing me, as if I was a fish and he did not want me to get away."You do not know what he is capable of Kelly!" he let go of me and took a few steps away. "That is why I now forbid you to be on deck after sunset." He held his hands behind his back, not facing me, as if he was finished with his performance and was waiting for an Emmy to appear.
There was a long moment of realization and acceptance. I had no choice but to obey him. Afterall, he trusted me enough to tell me a story, such as this, and I felt I needed to make it up to him.
"Yes sir." I paused, gazing at the stars dancing in the water. "I am tired, I will retire to my bed chambers and see you in the morning."
The Captain did not speak a word, his gaze was fixated towards the sea. I wasn't sure if he had heard my last sentance, but I went to my cabin anyway.