Well, here I am at Chapter 10, and I finally get to introduce Estella. She's been in the works of the turning wheels in the head since Chapter 3! So, Pintel and Ragetti are good at doing a whole lot of nothing, and it took a while. The chapter title has the musical "A streetcar Named Desire" in the back of my mind. I have never heard this piece, but my ex-boyfriend used to go around and cry out "Stella!"
So, far, as far as I can tell this is now the longest Pintel and Ragetti fiction, or I'm at least tied with Japas the Bassist. You guys keep me writing, and I actually have an end planned out for this story, but it is a very long ways off. I have plans for us to meet that illusive Mrs. Pintel. Yes, someone was crazy enough to marry the old goat! But this will be be quite some ways off! Mullroy and Martogg should be back about Chapter 15, if not earlier if things go well. Still no plans to work Will into this story, but Elizabeth will make a short appearance. These are some things for you to mull over, and maybe intrigue you. Keep reading! :)
My thanks goes out to my faithful readers and reviewers, PeiPei and Miran Anders. Both of them are writing very interesting pieces, and they are both well written. Mme. Calico Jack Rackham is writing two very good stories herself.
Last piece. I have yet to proof read this, but I will get to do so hopefully this afternoon. I like to keep something resembling a schedule on this one.
Chapter 10: Stella!
Two weeks had come and gone for the two pirates at the bakery. For the last week, Pintel had been up and about on his own, and he had returned to his proper demeanor . . . i.e. his rude, crude, lazy, worthless and generally nasty self. With another firm introduction to St. Peter and many asundrious flying objects ( . . . Ragetti's wooden eye was feeling rather jealous over all the other inanimate objects cutting in on its act!) that more often than not hit their target, Pintel was finally convinced to get up and help out with the chores and do his fair share. It was not like he was dead against doing the work (Been there, done that!) and helping out his partner (He was not certified in the proper department for that one), but it was the principle of it all. He had become a pirate to get out of doing so much work. The career change didn't quite work out the way he had planned. Doing highway robbery on the high seas was a lot of work, like swabbing the deck, mending the sails, and patching up holes. It just didn't pay too bad, and he was encouraged to terrorize little old ladies.
Although the threats to his physical being seemed to do little good (He'd heard worse threats. Barbosa could be quite a creative fellow when it came to torture and the ultimate demise of fellow crew members. The Spanish Inquisition was in his blood. Not to mention, Mrs. Pintel knew a thing or two to scare the pants off a man.), Marita had come up with another approach. She was an exceptionally intelligent woman and thought up a way that would be less trying on her throwing arm and would leave some of her worldly possession in tact. The threat of "No work, No more rum" not only got the older man's attention, but it got him out of bed and ready to work. Even Lucy stood at attention for this offer. She did not particularly approve of the two loafers drinking her rum behind her back, nor did she particularly approve of them getting her dog sloshed in the process, but it did get rid of the crateful of rum that her late husband had bought right before his death and kept in the cellar for those special occasions with the guys. It did take Pintel and Ragetti a while to get through the supply. The two tended to be unconscious after two bottles of the stuff, and that wasn't counting the dog's share. They certainly were not a pair of Jack Sparrows, not that the mistress of the bakery knew the infamous captain and his special drinking habits. She would find Ragetti spread out face down on his bed with the empty rum bottle in hand. Pintel would be flat on his back snoring loudly with the unconscious dog stretched across his midsection. Oh well, it kept the trio from romping about while the bread was rising, and one of the two managed to clean up the mess made. It was most likely Ragetti.
Over the two weeks, she got them cleaned up and presentable. They were no longer in the old world, where baths were taken once a month during the warm seasons, whether they needed them or not. They were not on a ship any longer, where fresh water was a precious commodity. Port Royal was on a tropical island, that was often prone to balmy sweaty conditions and it had plenty of fresh water. So, in favor of cleaner air, she felt it was her duty to convince the two to have regular bathing habits. Ragetti was the easier of the two to convince. A smile, a wink, and sometimes even a peck on the cheek was enough to get him to dazedly fall into the tub, usually fully clothed. Oh well, it saved on him doing the laundry. Pintel took another kind of convincing. She didn't dare do any kind of flirting with the dirty minded old letch. So, liking the older pirate as much as he did, Lucy was still Marita's dog and he did her bidding. Not to mention, he had the best sense of smell of the four of them. Needless to say, the dog and the pirate usually ended up taking a bath together. Pintel could have thought of better bathing partners, but Marita might do some not so nice things to him.
Having been human for a short while and everything was back in working order again, Ragetti found that his hair was growing at an incredible rate, and since his barber was laid up for that week, he decided to cut it himself. That was until Marita caught him with the soup bowl. Well, at least she could cut straight, and she didn't even need the soup bowl to do it either! She left his blonde hair a little longer than he usually kept it, but she wanted something to grab hold of when he misbehaved. She stopped all his complaints by telling him that he was quite handsome with the longer hair. Ragetti responded by opening his mouth (a hazardous move indeed) and suggesting something that would have done Pintel's teaching proud. Needless to say, he ended up unconscious on the floor. Oh well, thirty years around the older pirate was enough to rot anyone's mind.
By the time this chapter took place, Ragetti's big mouth had been forgotten, and the two fugitives found themselves as able bodied working men. Marita had done all the proper alterations to her late husband's old clothes so that her two employees didn't look like a pair of vagabonds. Even Pintel looked like a man of worth. Miracles do happen. The baker had to purchase him a new pair of shoes, since the man's foot was of an exceptional size even in the local cobbler's experience. Now, one might feel that she took these pains because of the goodness of her heart, but she calculated it in as their non-existing wages.
She kept up the ruse that she told the doctor that they were her very distant cousin and his nephew from the poorer side of her husband's family, that no one really claimed. Each man had acquired a special duty in the business. Ragetti took care of the kitchen and the back, and Pintel took care of the front. This wasn't to say that she was foolhardy enough to trust the older pirate with the money, but she had her reasons and her ways. Pintel knew a little about pastries, he could count change, and he wasn't marked for being a pirate. Not to mention, Ragetti had a real hard time with shoes. It wasn't that the shoes given him were uncomfortable. It was more of the fact that he was used to going barefooted. He also wore his shirt loose and his sleeves rolled up, that tended to reveal the "P" on his arm, and with that wooden eye, he looked more like a pirate. This wasn't to say that she would trust the younger man around the money either. So, when Marita found herself called away on other business, she left the bakery in the hands of the twits, but she wouldn't be gone for more than a couple of hours at most. Pintel took care of the front and the customers. She just literally shook him down to regain her profits of the day, and with the help of St. Peter, she was able to recover the rest of her money.
So, on this bright Wednesday afternoon, Marita went to make arrangements to replenish her supplies. Pintel was left with a feather duster to occupy himself with something other than bugger flinging. She also left him with a severe threat to his manhood should she get more complaints about his crude attitude, unwanted flirtations, bad service, extra goodies in the pastries, and missing articles of value from anyone entering the bakery or even walking in front of it. Although he was more often than not the leader of the two, he wasn't above learning a thing or two from Ragetti on the sly.
Ragetti happily wiped off the tables and swept the floor. He was also to pull the baking pastries from the oven when they were done. He had managed to get this task done right and down to a fine art. His olfactories where connected to his drool glands. He had only burned the donuts twice, and one of those times he was unconscious. When he did get it right, Marita would give him an approving smile, and as long as he kept his mouth shut, he did alright. He had his mind on pleasant little things, that involved Marita in something less than her baker's uniform, as he swept up the dirt and the flour from the floor, when he saw a small round object roll into his path. The tall man stood up straight with puzzlement written all over his face. What else was new! He reached up and touched his wooden eye. It was still in its proper place. So, he poked his real eye to see if it was still there, too. That act caused him to cry out in pain. It was still there.
Another round object rolled across the floor to bump into the first. Curious, the pirate knelt down and picked up two marbles as a third one rolled in. His brows furrowed in confusion, and he pulled back. He followed up the direction the marbles came from. Several more marbles were on the stairs going to Marita's room upstairs. In the shadows stood a little girl in a lacy dark blue dress. Her long curly light brown hair was tied up in a matching dark blue ribbon. Her big dark eyes stared out of a round frightened face at the tall man. She had a striking resemblance to someone Ragetti knew, but he just couldn't place her at the moment.
"Why, 'ello there, poppet!" he exclaimed in a cheerful friendly voice, "Where ya come from?"
The little girl took a step back up the steps. Ragetti picked up the marbles that were now scattered on the floor. He held them up to her in his cupped hands. "These be yours, ain't they?" he inquired, "I know they ain't mine. Lost mine a long time ago," he exclaimed with a smile and a wink of his left eye.
The child smiled back. "Are you one of the bad men that mommy told me to stay away from?"
Ragetti poured the marbles into one hand and scratched his head with the free one. He had to think about this one. His eyes would have crossed with the effort if he had had both of them. "Uh . . ." he answered brilliantly, "I don't think I'm all that bad. 'Course, mum and da, they said I was good fer nuttin'! But Mrs. Marita, that be Pintel's and me's boss, she says I'd make a good baker one day, as soon as I learn the right porpoise of all the stuff. I didn't know that bread 'ad any fish in it! Ne'er tasted fishy to me. Oh well, she says I do make a pretty good stew, though."
The little girl laughed and came the rest of the way down the steps. She looked up at the tall man, and Ragetti gave her one of his big goofy grins. "You're funny!" she exclaimed, "I like you!"
"I like you, too," he answered rather flattered, "Whatcha name, poppet? Me name is Tony."
"I'm Estella," she replied.
Ragetti took her hand and shook it. "Why 'ello, 'Stella! Nice to meet ya!"
She continued to giggle. "I live upstairs with my mommy," she added, as she pointed to where Marita had told them her rooms were.
"Wow! Me boss, she lives upstairs, too!" he cried out incredulously, not quite making the connection. Oh well, no one accused him of being a genius. "Where's yer mommy now?"
"She went out for awhile," she answered as she took the marbles from the tall pirate.
"'Ey! So did our boss!" he added excitedly, "Mebbe yer mommy and me boss, they went out together doin' women things, ya know."
"Want to play marbles with me?" she requested, "I don't have anyone to play with."
Ragetti shrugged and gave another big smile. "Yeah, sure!' he replied.
Within a few minutes, the tall pirate found himself laying flat on the floor with the child. He had the shooter marble in his right hand, and he was taking aim with his non-existing right eye. Needless to say, he was losing to a five year old. So involved was he with the game, he didn't notice the smell of the burning pastries. He didn't notice Pintel's noisy entrance nor his use of his lovely sailor vocabulary as he pulled the blackened croissants from the oven. The only time he took notice of the older pirate was when Pintel came from behind him and whacked him in the back of the head with the bread board. Ragetti's eye popped out, hit all the right marbles, and won the game for him.
Estella jumped up and down and clapped her hands together. "Look!" she cried out, "It's an inksy, and a pinksy, and an eyeball!"
"What's ye think ye doin', ye git!" Pintel complained.
"Playin' marbles with 'Stella," he protested as if it was what he was suppose to be doing all along.
The younger pirate held out his hand to the little girl for his eye. She placed the wooden orb in his waiting hand, and she announced, "That's a great trick! Will you show me how to do it?"
Pintel squinted his eyes at the jovial little girl. "Ye don't reall' wanna know!' he pointed out.
"Oh," she said brightly, "Are you one of the bad men mommy told me about?"
"Nah," Ragetti declined, as he popped his wooden eye back in place. He blinked several times to get it readjusted. "'E be me mate 'Enry."
She giggled and clapped her hands again. "Uncle Tony and Uncle Enry!"
Pintel glared at his partner. "Where'd she come from?" he demanded.
"Pintel! If ye don't know that one, I can't 'elp ye there, mate! I thought ye 'ad four littl' ones back 'ome!":
"I don't mean that, ye numbskull," he snarled, "Where ye find 'er?"
Before Ragetti was able to go into his long drawn out explanation, the drawing back of a hammer to a flint was heard. The two criminals, being used to such sounds being aimed at them, raised their hands and stood up slowly. The little girl pointed to their assailant and cried out, "Mommy!"
Pintel narrowed his eyes and muttered to his companion, "Now what 'ave ye gotten us into now, boy!"
A/N: I couldn't resist the last line, since the two were based on Laurel and Hardy! :)
So, far, as far as I can tell this is now the longest Pintel and Ragetti fiction, or I'm at least tied with Japas the Bassist. You guys keep me writing, and I actually have an end planned out for this story, but it is a very long ways off. I have plans for us to meet that illusive Mrs. Pintel. Yes, someone was crazy enough to marry the old goat! But this will be be quite some ways off! Mullroy and Martogg should be back about Chapter 15, if not earlier if things go well. Still no plans to work Will into this story, but Elizabeth will make a short appearance. These are some things for you to mull over, and maybe intrigue you. Keep reading! :)
My thanks goes out to my faithful readers and reviewers, PeiPei and Miran Anders. Both of them are writing very interesting pieces, and they are both well written. Mme. Calico Jack Rackham is writing two very good stories herself.
Last piece. I have yet to proof read this, but I will get to do so hopefully this afternoon. I like to keep something resembling a schedule on this one.
Chapter 10: Stella!
Two weeks had come and gone for the two pirates at the bakery. For the last week, Pintel had been up and about on his own, and he had returned to his proper demeanor . . . i.e. his rude, crude, lazy, worthless and generally nasty self. With another firm introduction to St. Peter and many asundrious flying objects ( . . . Ragetti's wooden eye was feeling rather jealous over all the other inanimate objects cutting in on its act!) that more often than not hit their target, Pintel was finally convinced to get up and help out with the chores and do his fair share. It was not like he was dead against doing the work (Been there, done that!) and helping out his partner (He was not certified in the proper department for that one), but it was the principle of it all. He had become a pirate to get out of doing so much work. The career change didn't quite work out the way he had planned. Doing highway robbery on the high seas was a lot of work, like swabbing the deck, mending the sails, and patching up holes. It just didn't pay too bad, and he was encouraged to terrorize little old ladies.
Although the threats to his physical being seemed to do little good (He'd heard worse threats. Barbosa could be quite a creative fellow when it came to torture and the ultimate demise of fellow crew members. The Spanish Inquisition was in his blood. Not to mention, Mrs. Pintel knew a thing or two to scare the pants off a man.), Marita had come up with another approach. She was an exceptionally intelligent woman and thought up a way that would be less trying on her throwing arm and would leave some of her worldly possession in tact. The threat of "No work, No more rum" not only got the older man's attention, but it got him out of bed and ready to work. Even Lucy stood at attention for this offer. She did not particularly approve of the two loafers drinking her rum behind her back, nor did she particularly approve of them getting her dog sloshed in the process, but it did get rid of the crateful of rum that her late husband had bought right before his death and kept in the cellar for those special occasions with the guys. It did take Pintel and Ragetti a while to get through the supply. The two tended to be unconscious after two bottles of the stuff, and that wasn't counting the dog's share. They certainly were not a pair of Jack Sparrows, not that the mistress of the bakery knew the infamous captain and his special drinking habits. She would find Ragetti spread out face down on his bed with the empty rum bottle in hand. Pintel would be flat on his back snoring loudly with the unconscious dog stretched across his midsection. Oh well, it kept the trio from romping about while the bread was rising, and one of the two managed to clean up the mess made. It was most likely Ragetti.
Over the two weeks, she got them cleaned up and presentable. They were no longer in the old world, where baths were taken once a month during the warm seasons, whether they needed them or not. They were not on a ship any longer, where fresh water was a precious commodity. Port Royal was on a tropical island, that was often prone to balmy sweaty conditions and it had plenty of fresh water. So, in favor of cleaner air, she felt it was her duty to convince the two to have regular bathing habits. Ragetti was the easier of the two to convince. A smile, a wink, and sometimes even a peck on the cheek was enough to get him to dazedly fall into the tub, usually fully clothed. Oh well, it saved on him doing the laundry. Pintel took another kind of convincing. She didn't dare do any kind of flirting with the dirty minded old letch. So, liking the older pirate as much as he did, Lucy was still Marita's dog and he did her bidding. Not to mention, he had the best sense of smell of the four of them. Needless to say, the dog and the pirate usually ended up taking a bath together. Pintel could have thought of better bathing partners, but Marita might do some not so nice things to him.
Having been human for a short while and everything was back in working order again, Ragetti found that his hair was growing at an incredible rate, and since his barber was laid up for that week, he decided to cut it himself. That was until Marita caught him with the soup bowl. Well, at least she could cut straight, and she didn't even need the soup bowl to do it either! She left his blonde hair a little longer than he usually kept it, but she wanted something to grab hold of when he misbehaved. She stopped all his complaints by telling him that he was quite handsome with the longer hair. Ragetti responded by opening his mouth (a hazardous move indeed) and suggesting something that would have done Pintel's teaching proud. Needless to say, he ended up unconscious on the floor. Oh well, thirty years around the older pirate was enough to rot anyone's mind.
By the time this chapter took place, Ragetti's big mouth had been forgotten, and the two fugitives found themselves as able bodied working men. Marita had done all the proper alterations to her late husband's old clothes so that her two employees didn't look like a pair of vagabonds. Even Pintel looked like a man of worth. Miracles do happen. The baker had to purchase him a new pair of shoes, since the man's foot was of an exceptional size even in the local cobbler's experience. Now, one might feel that she took these pains because of the goodness of her heart, but she calculated it in as their non-existing wages.
She kept up the ruse that she told the doctor that they were her very distant cousin and his nephew from the poorer side of her husband's family, that no one really claimed. Each man had acquired a special duty in the business. Ragetti took care of the kitchen and the back, and Pintel took care of the front. This wasn't to say that she was foolhardy enough to trust the older pirate with the money, but she had her reasons and her ways. Pintel knew a little about pastries, he could count change, and he wasn't marked for being a pirate. Not to mention, Ragetti had a real hard time with shoes. It wasn't that the shoes given him were uncomfortable. It was more of the fact that he was used to going barefooted. He also wore his shirt loose and his sleeves rolled up, that tended to reveal the "P" on his arm, and with that wooden eye, he looked more like a pirate. This wasn't to say that she would trust the younger man around the money either. So, when Marita found herself called away on other business, she left the bakery in the hands of the twits, but she wouldn't be gone for more than a couple of hours at most. Pintel took care of the front and the customers. She just literally shook him down to regain her profits of the day, and with the help of St. Peter, she was able to recover the rest of her money.
So, on this bright Wednesday afternoon, Marita went to make arrangements to replenish her supplies. Pintel was left with a feather duster to occupy himself with something other than bugger flinging. She also left him with a severe threat to his manhood should she get more complaints about his crude attitude, unwanted flirtations, bad service, extra goodies in the pastries, and missing articles of value from anyone entering the bakery or even walking in front of it. Although he was more often than not the leader of the two, he wasn't above learning a thing or two from Ragetti on the sly.
Ragetti happily wiped off the tables and swept the floor. He was also to pull the baking pastries from the oven when they were done. He had managed to get this task done right and down to a fine art. His olfactories where connected to his drool glands. He had only burned the donuts twice, and one of those times he was unconscious. When he did get it right, Marita would give him an approving smile, and as long as he kept his mouth shut, he did alright. He had his mind on pleasant little things, that involved Marita in something less than her baker's uniform, as he swept up the dirt and the flour from the floor, when he saw a small round object roll into his path. The tall man stood up straight with puzzlement written all over his face. What else was new! He reached up and touched his wooden eye. It was still in its proper place. So, he poked his real eye to see if it was still there, too. That act caused him to cry out in pain. It was still there.
Another round object rolled across the floor to bump into the first. Curious, the pirate knelt down and picked up two marbles as a third one rolled in. His brows furrowed in confusion, and he pulled back. He followed up the direction the marbles came from. Several more marbles were on the stairs going to Marita's room upstairs. In the shadows stood a little girl in a lacy dark blue dress. Her long curly light brown hair was tied up in a matching dark blue ribbon. Her big dark eyes stared out of a round frightened face at the tall man. She had a striking resemblance to someone Ragetti knew, but he just couldn't place her at the moment.
"Why, 'ello there, poppet!" he exclaimed in a cheerful friendly voice, "Where ya come from?"
The little girl took a step back up the steps. Ragetti picked up the marbles that were now scattered on the floor. He held them up to her in his cupped hands. "These be yours, ain't they?" he inquired, "I know they ain't mine. Lost mine a long time ago," he exclaimed with a smile and a wink of his left eye.
The child smiled back. "Are you one of the bad men that mommy told me to stay away from?"
Ragetti poured the marbles into one hand and scratched his head with the free one. He had to think about this one. His eyes would have crossed with the effort if he had had both of them. "Uh . . ." he answered brilliantly, "I don't think I'm all that bad. 'Course, mum and da, they said I was good fer nuttin'! But Mrs. Marita, that be Pintel's and me's boss, she says I'd make a good baker one day, as soon as I learn the right porpoise of all the stuff. I didn't know that bread 'ad any fish in it! Ne'er tasted fishy to me. Oh well, she says I do make a pretty good stew, though."
The little girl laughed and came the rest of the way down the steps. She looked up at the tall man, and Ragetti gave her one of his big goofy grins. "You're funny!" she exclaimed, "I like you!"
"I like you, too," he answered rather flattered, "Whatcha name, poppet? Me name is Tony."
"I'm Estella," she replied.
Ragetti took her hand and shook it. "Why 'ello, 'Stella! Nice to meet ya!"
She continued to giggle. "I live upstairs with my mommy," she added, as she pointed to where Marita had told them her rooms were.
"Wow! Me boss, she lives upstairs, too!" he cried out incredulously, not quite making the connection. Oh well, no one accused him of being a genius. "Where's yer mommy now?"
"She went out for awhile," she answered as she took the marbles from the tall pirate.
"'Ey! So did our boss!" he added excitedly, "Mebbe yer mommy and me boss, they went out together doin' women things, ya know."
"Want to play marbles with me?" she requested, "I don't have anyone to play with."
Ragetti shrugged and gave another big smile. "Yeah, sure!' he replied.
Within a few minutes, the tall pirate found himself laying flat on the floor with the child. He had the shooter marble in his right hand, and he was taking aim with his non-existing right eye. Needless to say, he was losing to a five year old. So involved was he with the game, he didn't notice the smell of the burning pastries. He didn't notice Pintel's noisy entrance nor his use of his lovely sailor vocabulary as he pulled the blackened croissants from the oven. The only time he took notice of the older pirate was when Pintel came from behind him and whacked him in the back of the head with the bread board. Ragetti's eye popped out, hit all the right marbles, and won the game for him.
Estella jumped up and down and clapped her hands together. "Look!" she cried out, "It's an inksy, and a pinksy, and an eyeball!"
"What's ye think ye doin', ye git!" Pintel complained.
"Playin' marbles with 'Stella," he protested as if it was what he was suppose to be doing all along.
The younger pirate held out his hand to the little girl for his eye. She placed the wooden orb in his waiting hand, and she announced, "That's a great trick! Will you show me how to do it?"
Pintel squinted his eyes at the jovial little girl. "Ye don't reall' wanna know!' he pointed out.
"Oh," she said brightly, "Are you one of the bad men mommy told me about?"
"Nah," Ragetti declined, as he popped his wooden eye back in place. He blinked several times to get it readjusted. "'E be me mate 'Enry."
She giggled and clapped her hands again. "Uncle Tony and Uncle Enry!"
Pintel glared at his partner. "Where'd she come from?" he demanded.
"Pintel! If ye don't know that one, I can't 'elp ye there, mate! I thought ye 'ad four littl' ones back 'ome!":
"I don't mean that, ye numbskull," he snarled, "Where ye find 'er?"
Before Ragetti was able to go into his long drawn out explanation, the drawing back of a hammer to a flint was heard. The two criminals, being used to such sounds being aimed at them, raised their hands and stood up slowly. The little girl pointed to their assailant and cried out, "Mommy!"
Pintel narrowed his eyes and muttered to his companion, "Now what 'ave ye gotten us into now, boy!"
A/N: I couldn't resist the last line, since the two were based on Laurel and Hardy! :)