This story takes place only a few years after Wendy's first visit to
Neverland with Peter Pan, so it is considered a follow-up to the 2003 P.J.
Hogan film Peter Pan (with some references to the original Barrie novel
[1911] and his own Peter Pan prequel, Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens
[1904]).
Again, I have no ownership of any of the characters or actors who portrayed them...but I have dibs on February 5, 2007. (mwahahaha!)
Here's Chapter VI .....please leave comments! :-)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
VI. A FRESH OBJECTIVE
Being the concerned readers that we are, it is only natural that our first priority above all else at this point is to know what has become of Wendy Darling after that dreadful plummet from the cliff. And so we dash off straight away toward Blind Man's Bluff so that we may see what fate has ultimately befallen our heroine.
But alas, we arrive at the Bluff and find nothing! We are certain we saw her fall – right there, on that very rock. What do you suppose has become of her? Did Peter fly back to her rescue? No, we know this not to be true, as he is still in the jungle searching heartily for the abducted Tinker Bell.
Perhaps the Lost Boys came back for her upon Peter's instruction...No, they have no stake in the older girl's life whatsoever. So, what can it be that has removed Wendy from what most assuredly had been her final resting place? Vultures? Indians? Mermaids?
Aha! The Mermaids!
Those dark and mysterious creatures of the sea know all that occurs in Neverland. Surely, they will be conscious of Wendy's whereabouts. And we, being in the privileged position that we find ourselves, are perfectly entitled to ask this of them. So let us be off, shall we, to the Mermaid Lagoon...
The creatures are there, and they seem to have been waiting for our arrival all along. Good fortune for us! Now, 'tis time we pose our query to them, but wait, not too close! For no matter how quiet and unassuming they may appear, they shall not think twice about dragging you to a watery grave! So please, do take caution.
We ask the question, and they respond in their quirky language, but as I have told you, we possess an ability to understand them. However, they speak to us in riddles –
"Where the Wendy goes, only the Devil knows."
Oh, why can't these blasted creatures speak plainly? Taking note of our displeasure, they go quiet and then simply cast their eyes darkly in the opposite direction from us, toward a sinister brig floating in the shadows near the shore.
Ah, now we understand. We know the Devil of whom they speak. And it is not Peter Pan, as you might be suspecting – no, Peter is merely a *demon*, but the Devil himself resides elsewhere in Neverland. And instead of a pitchfork, he carries something quite different yet similar affixed to his right hand. And even his beard does he wear akin to Lucifer himself.
'Tis James Hook who holds the secret of Wendy's fate. And aboard the Jolly Roger is where our story shall resume...
* * * *
A pair of robust shadows lingered over Wendy's delicately bruised features as if an inquisitive shroud. These shadows had voices, and they used them blithely.
"Could it truly be?" The first voice asked. It's deep, velvety timbre only seemed to darken the room further.
"I can't rightly be sure," the other shadow whispered anxiously. "But it could be no other."
"Yes," came the reflective reply.
"Red-Handed Jill?"
And then a sigh: "The Wendy..."
The shadows eased from the girl's face, which remained walled up soundly in wounded slumber. Besides she, there were three other occupants of the tiny, dimly-lit room, each more depraved than the next. One had stepped forward and taken hold of her wrist, surveying the cuts and scrapes upon her arms through a malevolent looking monocle affixed to his right eye. He set her arm down and let his hand drift toward her knees and ankles, all at once shaking and nodding his head, giving such vague indication of his meaning to the two other eager persons loitering in the background.
One of these stepped from the shadows once more like a smoky breeze billowing from a hellish portal, allowing a flicker of candlelight to expose one dreaded half his long dreaded face. The illuminated right eye twinkled with such a blue brilliance as to rival the most tropical of seas known to Man. It, and a terrible metal claw protruding from his right arm, hovered like a lurid omen over the unconscious young lady's still figure. Had it been aware of this, it would have shuddered.
She was indeed the Wendy girl, with whom this dark and sinister man was well acquainted. At least, he thought he had been. Even in the rusty dimness of this cabin, he could plainly take notice of the changes in her. Her face had thinned whilst her body had rounded, and the damage to her dress caused by the jagged rocks of Blind Man's Bluff exposed some portions of her flesh not suitable for viewing except by a lady's betrothed. But Captain James Hook, ever appealing to the façade of gentility he held to so steadfastly, politely averted his eyes from these prohibited areas.
But what was she doing back in Neverland? No, she was not quite grown-up yet, but she appeared far too mature than anyone the Captain would expect to see in Peter Pan's privileged company.
James Hook stopped and grinned to himself a moment. "Too mature." The Wendy girl had been "too mature" for Pan even at the age of twelve. She had come, at that time, to be a mother to the Boy and his band of delinquents. Now, she could fit the part most accurately!
The strange little man in the monocle continued his thorough examination of Wendy's limp body. You would never be able to tell, being the refined and civilized person you are, that this man was actually a doctor. Given his wool cap and red-stained leather apron, he would more likely be mistaken for the corner butcher than a man of medicine. But, you see, he was also a pirate, and as such only came to the ways of healing and surgery through a stark process of elimination. He exhibited a knack for it and was therefore made the ship's surgeon with nary a note of certification to his name. 'Twas dubious, to be sure, but one shan't be too particular when stranded aboard a pirate ship in the middle of a perpetual dreamscape known as Neverland.
"Well, what is there to tell, Doc?" The ship's Captain inquired impatiently, referring to the man by his generic and impersonal nickname.
Doc shrugged matter-of-factly as he resumed his probe. "Eh, she'll live."
Hook let his eyes, brimming with dark ideas, first drift toward the wall in front of him and then toward the third person in the room behind him. His gaze set firmly upon the stocky elder man, who was his chief bosun, and his notice was met with an equally interested one. The gray-bearded pirate could see all the thoughts racing through his captain's mind simultaneously, and he knew where to which they all came down – or rather to *whom* they all came down. For everything, both in Neverland and in James Hook's haunted life, always came back to that boy...
Just then, all deliberations in the cabin came to a stop. The Doc had been holding Wendy's wrist in order to obtain a pulse when she suddenly seized upon his hand and groaned. All eyes shot in her direction whilst hers remained closed but tightened. She gripped forcefully the doctor's hand and wept under the thin blanket of her subconscious.
And her lips found their way to form the terrible words: "Peter...no...please don't go...don't leave me..."
Her sobs were soft but painful as her plea. And it was all music to Captain Hook's ears. He sensed his man Smee at his side, and he turned halfway to him.
"Can it be..." Hook muttered gleefully, "...that Pan has abandoned her? His Wendy?"
"I thought I spotted 'im at the top o' that cliff, Cap'n," Smee offered, "but when I saw 'im fly off without the girl, I thinks to meself, 'Naw, can't be 'im! 'E wouldn't leave 'er alone like that!'"
Hook raised a cocky eyebrow. "Or *would* he, Mr. Smee?"
The two men turned their attention back to Wendy, who was being gently persuaded back into sleep by the doctor and a goodly amount of brandy. Soon, her weeping ceased and she let her hand fall onto the cot where she lay. The doctor tossed Hook a reassuring glance that the young lady's fit had passed. All was quiet once again.
But inside the dreadful hollows of Hook's mind, a din such that you could not imagine tore through the silence and beat like a merciless drum. This drum chanted the name of Pan, and its echoes sent ripples of excitement and frustration all at once swirling about Hook's head. He knew he had laying before him a great weapon with which to destroy Peter Pan. He had nearly succeeded with it once, only to fall prey so foolishly to the girl's impish word games. Calling a kiss a "thimble"...What silliness! And yet it had saved Peter from certain doom. She was a clever one. Hook would have to be mindful of that. Yet he merrily welcomed such a challenge.
With eyes ablaze, Hook spun around on his heel and marched toward the door, bellowing "Smee! Come!" as if the older man was but a pet.
They moved to exit the room, but at the last moment, Hook stopped and turned once more to the doctor.
"Do not leave her side for a moment, Doc," he ordered. "If she so much as twitches a pretty eyelash, alert me at once!"
Without waiting for the doctor's acquiescence – for surely the man would not be so foolhardy as to challenge the Captain's instructions – Hook swung the door shut and made his way briskly to his own quarters, his bosun shuffling behind. Once both men were inside the captain's cabin, Hook threw his arms into the air and released from the deepest pit of his belly a laugh so maniacal that Smee instantly shut the door so as to prevent the outburst from poisoning the fresh air outside.
"Do you know what we have here, Smee?" Hook hissed, more or less to himself.
"What's that, Cap'n?" He needn't have asked, for Hook would tell him anyway.
"Laying beneath the cloak of a deep, desperate sleep, we have in our possession Peter Pan's inescapable downfall! His one weakness in this world come back to haunt him...the one weapon that has ever succeeded in felling that brazen lad!"
Smee couldn't help but get swept up in Hook's contagious enthusiasm. "'E sure fancied that young lady but good, didn't 'e?"
Hook grinned luxuriously at this next memory. "Aye, just the thought of her no longer caring for him reduced him to nothing more than a soiled lump upon the deck of my ship." He stroked his claw in thought. "But this is not the target at which my arrow points."
"Whatchya thinkin', Cap'n?" Smee stood by with bated breath. It seemed nearly an eternity since Hook last hatched a devious scheme.
"If it true that Pan has abandoned her, and therefore no longer cares, I could not use his feelings for her to my advantage. BUT –" The pirate's eyes grew round as saucers, "If he has left her in such a thoughtless manner, I could use HER feelings for HIM to my advantage."
Smee's enthusiasm waned. "I don't follow, sir."
Hook let out a frustrated grunt, as if Smee should be able to simply read his mind. "Smee, you ignorant goat, don't you see? Red-Handed Jill lives!"
"Eh?" Smee was more confused than ever.
Hook began pacing about the room, no longer concerned with his bosun's presence. "Surely, the girl knows where his new hideout is!"
"Oh! Aye!" Smee was beginning to catch on.
"She will know, and she will tell us!"
"She will?"
Now Hook turned intensely to his first mate. "We shall keep her here, nurse her back to health, wait upon her hand and foot as if she were a queen! And all the while waiting for her precious Peter Pan to come to her rescue, but he will not, thus fanning the flames of her disdain for the boy until she becomes more than happy to tell us, the ones who have taken such great pains to see to her well-being, exactly where that surly boy now calls home!"
Smee would never tell, but he did not think really this such a grand scheme. For one, it sounded as if the pirates would be trading in their shiny cutlasses for silver platters. For another, well, it was not very creative and seemed all too simplistic. In truth, Smee had watched helpless his Captain's schemes rapidly wane in their ingenuity and his desperation call upon the most ridiculous of conspiracies at which Hook held to for dear life. He was fast running out of options. And Smee, being at a disadvantage in both intelligence and rank, could only stand by and offer suggestions.
And this is the suggestion he offered at once: "Cap'n, can ye be sure Pan ain't gonna come back for the girl?"
"Eh?" Hook's eyebrows furrowed and silently called Smee a fool.
"It's just...forgive me, but..." Smee continued delicately, "We can't be certain Pan left 'er on purpose. Maybe he was distracted or forgot she was there, or..."
Hook only stood silent and round-eyed, and Smee knew not whether he would strike him or praise him. And to his minor surprise, the Captain did both.
"Smee!" Hook blurted, whacking his bosun upon the shoulder with his good hand. "You are a blithering moron, but even a blind squirrel finds an acorn on occasion!"
"Oh, thank you, sir!" Smee was just happy not to have a claw in his belly.
Hook walked past him and began pacing anew. "Yes, yes, yes, he may return to the Bluff thinking she is still there and wonder why she is not. We must find a way to convince him that she is no longer in Neverland and hence no longer available for rescuing!"
"Shall we leave a letter for 'im, Cap'n?" Smee suggested happily, still milking the backhanded praise he had just received.
Hook exhaled in inconvenienced frustration. "Smee, Pan can no more read a letter than I can play violin!" He waggled his claw for emphasis, just in case Smee had forgotten.
"Well," Smee staggered, "I 'ave 'eard one of his Lost Boys does read letters..."
Hook dismissed him immediately. "Forget the letters, Smee. Even if we did such a thing, Peter could simply ask those mermaids what – "
The Captain stopped in his tracks. "Blast it, the mermaids!"
"Erm, mermaids, Cap'n?"
"Aye, Pan always turns to those slimy creatures for information to which he cannot be privy. They will know the girl is here, and they will tell him if he so asks it of them."
Hook scratched at his beard with his claw in such a manner as to make Smee cringe for his safety. In the next moment, the cabin door was flung open and Hook was charging out onto the deck. Smee, followed, though Hook would have hardly noticed, and he found his Captain leaning over the side of the hull staring out to sea.
He saw that look in Hook's cold, heartless eyes that he had seen so often before whence an epiphany was bubbling to the surface. Smee needed only to say nothing and wait for it.
At last, Hook relaxed his countenance and turned to his bosun with a casual air.
"Smee, ready the dinghy," he instructed smugly. "We are going fishing."
Again, I have no ownership of any of the characters or actors who portrayed them...but I have dibs on February 5, 2007. (mwahahaha!)
Here's Chapter VI .....please leave comments! :-)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
VI. A FRESH OBJECTIVE
Being the concerned readers that we are, it is only natural that our first priority above all else at this point is to know what has become of Wendy Darling after that dreadful plummet from the cliff. And so we dash off straight away toward Blind Man's Bluff so that we may see what fate has ultimately befallen our heroine.
But alas, we arrive at the Bluff and find nothing! We are certain we saw her fall – right there, on that very rock. What do you suppose has become of her? Did Peter fly back to her rescue? No, we know this not to be true, as he is still in the jungle searching heartily for the abducted Tinker Bell.
Perhaps the Lost Boys came back for her upon Peter's instruction...No, they have no stake in the older girl's life whatsoever. So, what can it be that has removed Wendy from what most assuredly had been her final resting place? Vultures? Indians? Mermaids?
Aha! The Mermaids!
Those dark and mysterious creatures of the sea know all that occurs in Neverland. Surely, they will be conscious of Wendy's whereabouts. And we, being in the privileged position that we find ourselves, are perfectly entitled to ask this of them. So let us be off, shall we, to the Mermaid Lagoon...
The creatures are there, and they seem to have been waiting for our arrival all along. Good fortune for us! Now, 'tis time we pose our query to them, but wait, not too close! For no matter how quiet and unassuming they may appear, they shall not think twice about dragging you to a watery grave! So please, do take caution.
We ask the question, and they respond in their quirky language, but as I have told you, we possess an ability to understand them. However, they speak to us in riddles –
"Where the Wendy goes, only the Devil knows."
Oh, why can't these blasted creatures speak plainly? Taking note of our displeasure, they go quiet and then simply cast their eyes darkly in the opposite direction from us, toward a sinister brig floating in the shadows near the shore.
Ah, now we understand. We know the Devil of whom they speak. And it is not Peter Pan, as you might be suspecting – no, Peter is merely a *demon*, but the Devil himself resides elsewhere in Neverland. And instead of a pitchfork, he carries something quite different yet similar affixed to his right hand. And even his beard does he wear akin to Lucifer himself.
'Tis James Hook who holds the secret of Wendy's fate. And aboard the Jolly Roger is where our story shall resume...
* * * *
A pair of robust shadows lingered over Wendy's delicately bruised features as if an inquisitive shroud. These shadows had voices, and they used them blithely.
"Could it truly be?" The first voice asked. It's deep, velvety timbre only seemed to darken the room further.
"I can't rightly be sure," the other shadow whispered anxiously. "But it could be no other."
"Yes," came the reflective reply.
"Red-Handed Jill?"
And then a sigh: "The Wendy..."
The shadows eased from the girl's face, which remained walled up soundly in wounded slumber. Besides she, there were three other occupants of the tiny, dimly-lit room, each more depraved than the next. One had stepped forward and taken hold of her wrist, surveying the cuts and scrapes upon her arms through a malevolent looking monocle affixed to his right eye. He set her arm down and let his hand drift toward her knees and ankles, all at once shaking and nodding his head, giving such vague indication of his meaning to the two other eager persons loitering in the background.
One of these stepped from the shadows once more like a smoky breeze billowing from a hellish portal, allowing a flicker of candlelight to expose one dreaded half his long dreaded face. The illuminated right eye twinkled with such a blue brilliance as to rival the most tropical of seas known to Man. It, and a terrible metal claw protruding from his right arm, hovered like a lurid omen over the unconscious young lady's still figure. Had it been aware of this, it would have shuddered.
She was indeed the Wendy girl, with whom this dark and sinister man was well acquainted. At least, he thought he had been. Even in the rusty dimness of this cabin, he could plainly take notice of the changes in her. Her face had thinned whilst her body had rounded, and the damage to her dress caused by the jagged rocks of Blind Man's Bluff exposed some portions of her flesh not suitable for viewing except by a lady's betrothed. But Captain James Hook, ever appealing to the façade of gentility he held to so steadfastly, politely averted his eyes from these prohibited areas.
But what was she doing back in Neverland? No, she was not quite grown-up yet, but she appeared far too mature than anyone the Captain would expect to see in Peter Pan's privileged company.
James Hook stopped and grinned to himself a moment. "Too mature." The Wendy girl had been "too mature" for Pan even at the age of twelve. She had come, at that time, to be a mother to the Boy and his band of delinquents. Now, she could fit the part most accurately!
The strange little man in the monocle continued his thorough examination of Wendy's limp body. You would never be able to tell, being the refined and civilized person you are, that this man was actually a doctor. Given his wool cap and red-stained leather apron, he would more likely be mistaken for the corner butcher than a man of medicine. But, you see, he was also a pirate, and as such only came to the ways of healing and surgery through a stark process of elimination. He exhibited a knack for it and was therefore made the ship's surgeon with nary a note of certification to his name. 'Twas dubious, to be sure, but one shan't be too particular when stranded aboard a pirate ship in the middle of a perpetual dreamscape known as Neverland.
"Well, what is there to tell, Doc?" The ship's Captain inquired impatiently, referring to the man by his generic and impersonal nickname.
Doc shrugged matter-of-factly as he resumed his probe. "Eh, she'll live."
Hook let his eyes, brimming with dark ideas, first drift toward the wall in front of him and then toward the third person in the room behind him. His gaze set firmly upon the stocky elder man, who was his chief bosun, and his notice was met with an equally interested one. The gray-bearded pirate could see all the thoughts racing through his captain's mind simultaneously, and he knew where to which they all came down – or rather to *whom* they all came down. For everything, both in Neverland and in James Hook's haunted life, always came back to that boy...
Just then, all deliberations in the cabin came to a stop. The Doc had been holding Wendy's wrist in order to obtain a pulse when she suddenly seized upon his hand and groaned. All eyes shot in her direction whilst hers remained closed but tightened. She gripped forcefully the doctor's hand and wept under the thin blanket of her subconscious.
And her lips found their way to form the terrible words: "Peter...no...please don't go...don't leave me..."
Her sobs were soft but painful as her plea. And it was all music to Captain Hook's ears. He sensed his man Smee at his side, and he turned halfway to him.
"Can it be..." Hook muttered gleefully, "...that Pan has abandoned her? His Wendy?"
"I thought I spotted 'im at the top o' that cliff, Cap'n," Smee offered, "but when I saw 'im fly off without the girl, I thinks to meself, 'Naw, can't be 'im! 'E wouldn't leave 'er alone like that!'"
Hook raised a cocky eyebrow. "Or *would* he, Mr. Smee?"
The two men turned their attention back to Wendy, who was being gently persuaded back into sleep by the doctor and a goodly amount of brandy. Soon, her weeping ceased and she let her hand fall onto the cot where she lay. The doctor tossed Hook a reassuring glance that the young lady's fit had passed. All was quiet once again.
But inside the dreadful hollows of Hook's mind, a din such that you could not imagine tore through the silence and beat like a merciless drum. This drum chanted the name of Pan, and its echoes sent ripples of excitement and frustration all at once swirling about Hook's head. He knew he had laying before him a great weapon with which to destroy Peter Pan. He had nearly succeeded with it once, only to fall prey so foolishly to the girl's impish word games. Calling a kiss a "thimble"...What silliness! And yet it had saved Peter from certain doom. She was a clever one. Hook would have to be mindful of that. Yet he merrily welcomed such a challenge.
With eyes ablaze, Hook spun around on his heel and marched toward the door, bellowing "Smee! Come!" as if the older man was but a pet.
They moved to exit the room, but at the last moment, Hook stopped and turned once more to the doctor.
"Do not leave her side for a moment, Doc," he ordered. "If she so much as twitches a pretty eyelash, alert me at once!"
Without waiting for the doctor's acquiescence – for surely the man would not be so foolhardy as to challenge the Captain's instructions – Hook swung the door shut and made his way briskly to his own quarters, his bosun shuffling behind. Once both men were inside the captain's cabin, Hook threw his arms into the air and released from the deepest pit of his belly a laugh so maniacal that Smee instantly shut the door so as to prevent the outburst from poisoning the fresh air outside.
"Do you know what we have here, Smee?" Hook hissed, more or less to himself.
"What's that, Cap'n?" He needn't have asked, for Hook would tell him anyway.
"Laying beneath the cloak of a deep, desperate sleep, we have in our possession Peter Pan's inescapable downfall! His one weakness in this world come back to haunt him...the one weapon that has ever succeeded in felling that brazen lad!"
Smee couldn't help but get swept up in Hook's contagious enthusiasm. "'E sure fancied that young lady but good, didn't 'e?"
Hook grinned luxuriously at this next memory. "Aye, just the thought of her no longer caring for him reduced him to nothing more than a soiled lump upon the deck of my ship." He stroked his claw in thought. "But this is not the target at which my arrow points."
"Whatchya thinkin', Cap'n?" Smee stood by with bated breath. It seemed nearly an eternity since Hook last hatched a devious scheme.
"If it true that Pan has abandoned her, and therefore no longer cares, I could not use his feelings for her to my advantage. BUT –" The pirate's eyes grew round as saucers, "If he has left her in such a thoughtless manner, I could use HER feelings for HIM to my advantage."
Smee's enthusiasm waned. "I don't follow, sir."
Hook let out a frustrated grunt, as if Smee should be able to simply read his mind. "Smee, you ignorant goat, don't you see? Red-Handed Jill lives!"
"Eh?" Smee was more confused than ever.
Hook began pacing about the room, no longer concerned with his bosun's presence. "Surely, the girl knows where his new hideout is!"
"Oh! Aye!" Smee was beginning to catch on.
"She will know, and she will tell us!"
"She will?"
Now Hook turned intensely to his first mate. "We shall keep her here, nurse her back to health, wait upon her hand and foot as if she were a queen! And all the while waiting for her precious Peter Pan to come to her rescue, but he will not, thus fanning the flames of her disdain for the boy until she becomes more than happy to tell us, the ones who have taken such great pains to see to her well-being, exactly where that surly boy now calls home!"
Smee would never tell, but he did not think really this such a grand scheme. For one, it sounded as if the pirates would be trading in their shiny cutlasses for silver platters. For another, well, it was not very creative and seemed all too simplistic. In truth, Smee had watched helpless his Captain's schemes rapidly wane in their ingenuity and his desperation call upon the most ridiculous of conspiracies at which Hook held to for dear life. He was fast running out of options. And Smee, being at a disadvantage in both intelligence and rank, could only stand by and offer suggestions.
And this is the suggestion he offered at once: "Cap'n, can ye be sure Pan ain't gonna come back for the girl?"
"Eh?" Hook's eyebrows furrowed and silently called Smee a fool.
"It's just...forgive me, but..." Smee continued delicately, "We can't be certain Pan left 'er on purpose. Maybe he was distracted or forgot she was there, or..."
Hook only stood silent and round-eyed, and Smee knew not whether he would strike him or praise him. And to his minor surprise, the Captain did both.
"Smee!" Hook blurted, whacking his bosun upon the shoulder with his good hand. "You are a blithering moron, but even a blind squirrel finds an acorn on occasion!"
"Oh, thank you, sir!" Smee was just happy not to have a claw in his belly.
Hook walked past him and began pacing anew. "Yes, yes, yes, he may return to the Bluff thinking she is still there and wonder why she is not. We must find a way to convince him that she is no longer in Neverland and hence no longer available for rescuing!"
"Shall we leave a letter for 'im, Cap'n?" Smee suggested happily, still milking the backhanded praise he had just received.
Hook exhaled in inconvenienced frustration. "Smee, Pan can no more read a letter than I can play violin!" He waggled his claw for emphasis, just in case Smee had forgotten.
"Well," Smee staggered, "I 'ave 'eard one of his Lost Boys does read letters..."
Hook dismissed him immediately. "Forget the letters, Smee. Even if we did such a thing, Peter could simply ask those mermaids what – "
The Captain stopped in his tracks. "Blast it, the mermaids!"
"Erm, mermaids, Cap'n?"
"Aye, Pan always turns to those slimy creatures for information to which he cannot be privy. They will know the girl is here, and they will tell him if he so asks it of them."
Hook scratched at his beard with his claw in such a manner as to make Smee cringe for his safety. In the next moment, the cabin door was flung open and Hook was charging out onto the deck. Smee, followed, though Hook would have hardly noticed, and he found his Captain leaning over the side of the hull staring out to sea.
He saw that look in Hook's cold, heartless eyes that he had seen so often before whence an epiphany was bubbling to the surface. Smee needed only to say nothing and wait for it.
At last, Hook relaxed his countenance and turned to his bosun with a casual air.
"Smee, ready the dinghy," he instructed smugly. "We are going fishing."