Disclaimer- In this chapter, I briefly have Emma listening to music. I assure you, this is an actual song. It's a cool song too. But unfortunately, it's ©2004 to U2, and so is the song name, Vertigo. You know, that iPod commercial.
Emma was listening to her Walkman again, a sure sign of boredom. She sat against the railing on the quarterdeck, eyes distant and glazed.
Jack shot her another irritated look. It was in his nature to lift up midshipman from the deck when they were sitting and give them the old run-by; "We stand tall on the quarterdeck, son, all of us," but Emma was a girl, and it was totally against etiquette. Oh well.
Suddenly, Emma mumbled loudly along with the song, "Hello hello/Hola! /I'm at a place called Vertigo! /Como estas! /It's everything I wish I didn't know, except you, give me something, I can feel! Feel!"
"What?" Jack asked, fearful for her sanity. He still didn't understand the concept of listening to music through wires and shiny silver discs.
She glanced up as if just seeing him. Her eyes widened suddenly, and she yelled, "Duck! I mean, get down!"
Jack did so without question, and was very glad he did. A cannonball ripped through the mizzen like a knife through butter, toppling it. Splinters, dust, and sails rained down on the deck.
Emma and Jack got up immediately. Jack was yelling orders instantly for the guns to be run out and for someone to bring him a glass. Suddenly, he felt a tug on his sleeve and turned.
"What can I do?" Emma asked. Her Walkman lay forgotten on the corner of the deck. But Jack had no time now. All manner and etiquette forgotten, every inch the naval officer, he snarled, "Get to your cabin and stay there."
"But I want to fight!" she protested. "I can help!"
Jack whirled on her. "This is no place for a young girl! Go to your cabin, Miss Doyle!" he roared.
Emma backed away from him, eyes wide. "Okay, okay, I'll take the hint," she mumbled. Scooping up her Walkman, she trotted down the steps and bolted below. But she did not go to her cabin.
She walked quietly down to where she knew the weapons were kept, in the gunroom. No one was in there, so Emma pushed the door open and stepped in. Carefully, she picked up a pair of loaded pistols and belted them on, then picked up a long saber with a grin.
It was a nice blade, well made and just Emma's size. It had been her specialty in fencing, which Emma took in the winter when baseball was over. She thrust it resolutely through her belt and dashed back on deck, where all hell was breaking loose.
So, now you know Emma is a complete tomboy, a reckless rule breaker, and a violent little child. Haha! Stayed tuned...