Putting It All Together

Aelia O'Hession

Author's Note: I decided to write a one-shot for the classic film Muppet Treasure Island after watching it one night. The idea for this came to me and would not leave me alone. Writing this has been a guilty pleasure for me. I adore the film more than most people my age should and I can quote and sing the entire thing from top to bottom. You may laugh if you wish, but I shall continue to enjoy it.

Disclaimer: The Muppets belong to Jim Henson (may he rest in peace). The novel Treasure Island is the work of Robert Louis Stevens. I only own what you don't recognize.

o.o.o.o

I had stood on there on the bustling docks as the Hispañola began her voyage off to the Caribbean. My father was aboard as a crew member. I remember watching him give me the tiniest of waves before returning to his duties to see the ship ready.

That was the last I ever saw of my father.

Many years have passed since that day on the docks of Bristol as I watched the Hispañola sail away with my father. Such time has passed that it no longer pains me to speak of my father to others who inquire as to why I call myself an orphan. Though, sometimes, when I mention my father's name, listeners give me the queerest of looks. It makes no matter though. My father was Long John Silver and that is all that can be said.

As for me, I remain quite simply, May Silver, daughter of the 'pirate' Long John Silver. When the Hispañola left Bristol, I was twelve. He left me alone that day. The only family I had ever known was sailing away from me. Even now I am unclear as to why John had even kept as his own, instead of dropping me off at the nearest orphanage.

With my father gone, I knew I had to make ends meet for myself somehow. I put my services in where I could. Some days I was a maid, others a laundress, others still a cook. The odd jobs that I did allowed me to keep the tiny tenement flat that my father and I lived in. It was a hovel at best. The stench in the entire building always reeked of stale alcohol and out of work men that had bathed perhaps twice in their lives. Our flat had been only two rooms. A closet sized bedroom that my father had used, and the main room that was the kitchen, sitting room and my bedroom. There was a chipped and rusty basin in the corner that served as a washtub for our laundry and ourselves. But despite how decrepit the flat was, it was still home.

o.o.o.o

The years passed by slowly and no news of the Hispañola or my father reached my ears. Early on, when I was still a child, I had haunted the docks every day after work, pestering the dockworkers and sailors for any news they could give me. While they knew much about what was going on in the world, they knew nothing of the Hispañola and its fate.

After a while, I began to not care too much. I told myself that if my father wanted to return to me, he would do so at his own leisure. I contented myself by working. When I was fifteen, I gained a position as a servant in an elite upper-class home: The Woodfell House. My quarters were far better than the flat I had been keeping since I was twelve. In the servant's quarters, servants were given their own room. This was even unusual for upper-class homes. After my first year of work, due to good conditions and regular meals, my health improved considerably. I had blossomed into a plain but healthy young woman. My features were nothing spectacular; long brown hair usually pulled into a plait, brown eyes, pale skin spotted with freckles and a strong lithe body from all my work. These small improvements made my delirious with joy the day I finally noticed them. Since childhood I had always been a scrawny mousy girl, and I had never dreamed of improving my lot.

Then, in the winter of my eighteenth birthday, the news came. The Hispañola was coming back to port after six long years. Eagerly I waited for the day it was supposed to dock. Finally, on a bitter day in the middle of January, the Hispañola pulled into port. I was standing there, huddled in my drab winter cloak, nearly in the same spot as I had six years ago. The crew unloaded exotic goods from the hold while the gentlemen of the ship disembarked.

Even at this distance, I recognized Captain Smollett and the first mate Mr. Arrow. Near them was a young man and his friends, a rat and a, well, whatever. I vaguely recognized them as being the cabin boys that had gone aboard. I edged closer, hoping to get a better look at all of the gentlemen and to catch any snippets of information.

I shivered in my thin cloak as a biting wind blew. I nearly fell over in the gust. But I regained my balance and continued on. Once I was close enough, I politely sought the attention of a man I remembered to be the inventor, Mr. Bunsen Honeydew.

"Pardon me sir, but may I ask you something?"

He turned a smiling face towards me. "Certainly Miss."

"I'm looking for a crewmember. He's my father."

"His name, Miss?"

"John Silver."

The offered name met silence. Mr. Honeydew looked at me carefully for a few moments before speaking again. "It would be best if you spoke with the Captains Smollett and Hawkins." He left me to speak with the captains. While waiting, I tried to make myself look somewhat presentable, but I am sure I failed miserably.

The captains came over to me after a while. "Afternoon, Miss," the frog said pleasantly. "I am Captain Abraham Smollett and this is Captain Jim Hawkins." Captain Hawkins tipped his hat at me in greeting. Smollett continued. "I understand that you are inquiring after Long John Silver."

"Yes, Captain. He's my father and I was wondering if he has returned with the Hispanola." I clutched my cloak tighter. "I saw him off from this very port six years ago."

"Miss, you father, along with some crew members, committed mutiny in the first year of the voyage. We have not seen him since he escaped on a life boat."

"A very unsafe lifeboat," Mr. Arrow informed me.

"It is highly possible that he drowned Miss." I stared mutely at the gentlemen. So my father was most likely dead. At least he died out in the seas that he loved so much.

Bobbing a curtsey, I said, "Thank you, gentlemen. I must now return to my work. Excuse me." Hitching up my skirts so they would not drag in the snow and muck, I fled the docks and went back to the Woodfell House.

When I arrived, I was greeted by the matron of the House, Lady Sybil Woodfell. Late in years, Lady Woodfell had gone, in the politest of terms, a bit dotty. She constantly talked to her dead husband Gabriel, as though he was standing right there. She had also taken to wandering aimlessly about the manor. Ever since I had started here as a servant, I have always been Lady Woodfell's personal caretaker. None of the other young ladies would even go near her.

"May my sweet!" she called from the top of the grand staircase. "Come with me and Gabriel to the study." I could do little but obey. I placed my cloak on the coat rack and mounted the stairs. These gilded stairs of marble with a velvet rug running down the middle always fascinated me. I made sure that my dirty shoes did not tread upon the carpet. Upon my entrance to the study, I was seized by the elbow and ushered into an armchair.

"Dearie, there is something very important I must talk to you about. Gabriel, do shut up. May dear, my days are growing fewer, I can feel it. Gabriel and I have made specific instructions as to what happens to you when I'm gone. You've been like a daughter to us May, it's only right that you should be taken care of." Lady Woodfell gave a cough into a handkerchief. I could see flecks of blood upon the white linen. She quickly stuffed the handkerchief in her sleeve when she saw me looking at it. "Now dear, I have arranged for you to work in the household of Captain Abraham Smollett. In addition to working in the his household, you will inherit a portion of my estate."

I began to voice my protest, but she held up a hand for silence. "I, in good conscience after all you have done for me, could not let my greedy son have the entire estate. I have arranged for it to be placed in a bank account to be only accessible by you."

Lady Woodfell talked with me a bit more as to what was going to happen in the next few months. It was not a happy conversation, but I knew that it must be discussed. Despite my shock at receiving such a gift, I accepted it graciously. It would support me for many years to come.

The next few months passed by slowly and painfully. Each day I saw the health of Lady Woodfell deteriorate at an alarming rate. The doctors could do nothing to ease her suffering. I would sit with her into the long hours of the night, reading to her, or transcribing letters to send to her family members.

The night she died my heart broke. I had been doing some stitching at her bedside when she gave a hacking cough that brought up blood. I pulled her up to a sitting position, but she kept coughing and could not breathe. After minutes of struggling, she calmed. Lady Woodfell settled back into the pillows and looked at me.

"Goodbye, May my sweet. I'm off to see Gabriel."

Those were the last words she spoke before she drew her last breath. I sobbed and sobbed when I realized that she was indeed gone. I sat slumped over the bed for nearly an hour before I collected myself. I tidied up Lady Woodfell and then went to fetch her only son from his bedchamber.

I gave a tentative knock on the door. "Lord Woodfell?"

There was a rustle of bed sheets before the door was wrenched open. "What?" Lord Woodfell snapped at me.

"My Lord, your mother has just passed away."

"Is that all?" I gave a nod. "Then dress her in the funeral clothes and wake me in the morning after you have made the funeral arrangements." With that said, he slammed the door in my face.

Lady Sybil Woodfell's funeral was a simple but honorable funeral. Many friends and family turned out to see her laid to rest. I was the last to leave the cemetery. On her grave, I laid a single white lily – her favorite flower. When I returned to the Woodfell House, I packed my few belongings and informed Lord Woodfell of my departure to the Smollett household by order of Lady Woodfell.

"WHAT!" he roared at me. "How dare that woman send away one of my servants without my knowledge!"

The death of Lady Woodfell gave me a little pluck. "My Lord, I am not your servant. Lady Woodfell, may she rest in peace, hired me three years ago to be her servant. You have no control over me." I turned on my heel and slammed the door behind me. I have never set foot within that house ever since.

o.o.o.o

My first few months in the Smollett household were unusual. No one was quite sure how to treat me. They all knew that Lady Sybil Woodfell was my beneficiary. But they also knew that I was here as a servant and not as a permanent guest. I was left alone to tend to my work. In some ways, I had become the mistress of the Smollett household. I saw that the servants work ran smoothly.

Benjamina Gunn, now Mrs. Benjamina Smollett, admired how well I ran the servants of her household. She would often come to me with questions as to how to organize large parties and such. I delighted in the opportunity to help. I had done much the same for Lady Woodfell.

Living in the Smollett household was never dull. There were always people coming and going. The variety of people that came to see Captains Smollett and Hawkins were quite amusing. Some people came with phony treasure maps and others came with bids to travel to exotic countries for goods. I had to shake my head at some of the people that came to see the Captains.

Ever since the Hispañola had docked back in Bristol, Captain Jim Hawkins had been living in the Smollett household. Captain Smollett had taken Jim as his beneficiary; much like Lady Woodfell had done for me. Jim and I had developed a sort of friendship. At night, when all the chores were done, the two of us would sit out in the garden and talk. He would tell me tales of when he was a tavern boy and his travels with the Hispañola. I would tell him about some of the things I had read in Lady Woodfell's home.

When Jim turned 21, Captain Smollett and Benjamina decided to throw a party for him. It was going to be a very important night because Jim would be taking over the Hispañola from Captain Smollett. Benjamina and I would stay up late at night making sure that every detail would be absolutely perfect.

Then, Benjamina told me something one night that startled me.

"May, tomorrow you and I are going to the dressmakers."

"Alright," I agreed.

"After all," she continued, "you do need a dress for this party for Jim."

I stared blankly at her.

"Mrs. Smollett, I am a simple housemaid!" I sputtered at her. "I'm not fit for the company that will be present at Jim's party!"

"Nonsense. Squire Trelawney and that man in his finger will be there. And don't forget Jim's best friends; a rat and a whatever. Don't fret dear. I'll teach you everything you need to know. I'm sure that Jim will make it so that you aren't too uncomfortable. "

She had a point, though I was loathe to admit it. I just did not understand why Jim made it a point to have me there. But I never got a chance to ask him the next day before Mrs. Smollett whisked me away to the dressmakers. The woman there bustled about me, pinning and measuring, while yards of fabric whirled about my head. Once the she had all of the bits pinned in place, she said that we could come pick up the finished dress that evening.

While Benjamina and I walked along the streets of Bristol, she said to me, "Jim's going to love you in that dress."

I had no idea what she was talking about. In all of the bustle, I had not been able to get a glimpse at what the dress looked like. My confusion must have shown on my face.

"You'll see what I mean when we go back to retrieve the dress. Until then, we have a cake to order." Mrs. Smollett took me by the elbow and guided me through the busy streets. On our way back to the dressmakers from the bakery, we passed the little hovel where my flat had been. I stopped at the end of the street that led down into the little village of tenements.

"May, what's wrong dear?"

"I used to live there," I said to Benjamina in a dreamy voice. "I've come such a far way from being a street rat."

"Shush, no need for that sort of talk. Let's go fetch your dress dear."

That was the last time I ever say that hovel.

Once at the dressmakers, I could not believe what waited for me. The dress was pale blue with crisp white lace at the skirt hem, around the deep square neckline, and flowing down from the elbow length sleeves.

"Mrs. Smollett, I can't…"

She merely shook her head at me while she paid the dressmaker. "Come, we have a party to get ready for."

The preparations for the party barely registered in my consciousness. One minute, I was telling the servants where to set the place settings and in the next I was being put into the gown. I stood awkwardly in front of Benjamina's floor length mirror in the blue gown, with my long hair swept back in curls that trailed down my back.

"You look lovely, May." Captain Smollett said from the doorway. "Jim will be beside himself."

I turned to look at the Captain. "Sir," I said as politely as I could. "Why does everyone keep mentioning Jim to me? Is there something you all are not telling me?"

Captain Smollett took a long sideways glace at his wife. "Should I tell her, Mina?"

"It wouldn't hurt, I suppose," she conceded.

"May, for as long as you have been with this household, Jim has been mentioning to all of us how captivated by you he is. You're friendship means a great deal to him, and I think he's realizing that he might, well, feel a bit more for you."

I looked at the Captain, flabbergasted. But before I could even begin to discuss what was just said, I was being ushered out and down the stairs to the party.

I can remember very few details about Jim's 21st birthday party. What I do remember is absolute bliss. Despite my lack of upper class social skills, no one made me feel inferior. I remember dancing almost every single dance with Jim and I remember the words he spoke to me the first time he saw me. "May, you are absolutely breathtaking." My heart stopped beating when he spoke those words to me. Never in my life had someone called me breathtaking.

I suppose that you could say that our romance began that night. One could say that it seemed rushed into, but we both knew that it was right somehow. We just worked. As childish and innocent as that sounds. It was not easy for us though. Jim would be gone for weeks at a time, sailing the Hispañola off to distant shores. While he was gone I would pace relentlessly about the Smollett's home. But when he came home, I was there, standing on the docks, waiting for him.

There was one time when he was away that it stormed terribly. For weeks on end storms raged all over England. We all feared that the Hispañola would be unable to pull into port for a long time, or worse, be dashed upon the rocks as it waited for the storm to abate. Despite the violent storms, my favorite haunt was the widow's walk at the top of the Smollett's home. It gave me a clear view of the port and I could watch for any signs of Jim and the Hispañola. Even during gale winds and torrential downpours, I would stand up on the walk wrapped in a cloak, waiting for Jim to return safely home.

"Jim's been gone for nearly five months now." I bemoaned to Captain Smollett and Benjamina. "He's never been away this long!"

"I know dear. The weather has been most disagreeable. I'm sure he's fine."

Despite Captain Smollett's reassurances, I could not keep my dread at bay. The confounded frog captain barred me from pacing the widow's walk, so I paced the entire interior if the house. I did not do any of the housework that was assigned to me. It was not until late in the night that I actually sat down for any length of time.

As I started to drift into a troubled sleep, there was a loud crash from the first floor. I jumped in the chair I was falling asleep in. I pulled a dressing gown over my nightdress and went out into the hall where I was met by Captain Smollett and Benjamina. We carefully made our way down the stairs to the first floor foyer where we could hear the sounds of someone pacing.

"Who's there?" Captain Smollett inquired into the dark.

"Smollett?"

"Jim?" Captain Smollett asked back.

"Yes…"

Before Jim could finish his sentence, I came flying from the stairwell. "Jim!" I cried before flinging my arms around his neck. "You're all wet."

Jim laughed at me. "I got sick of waiting around so I jumped ship and swam to shore."

"Let's get you some dry clothes…"

"Not now," Jim cut me off. "I couldn't wait another day for this. It's the reason why I swam to port."

I had no idea what he was babbling about. "Jim, what…?"

"May, I've waited five long months at sea. Will you marry me?"

o.o.o.o

A whole new life started for me that night. I accepted Jim's proposal and Captain Smollett freed me from my position as a servant. Our wedding was small, for we both had no family except those who had been around us since we had come to the Smollett's home.

It has been forty years since the night Jim proposed to me. Once we were married we moved into a modest home near the Smollett's. We have raised four wonderful children, three boys and one girl. Our sons have long taken over the shipping company and our daughter is married and has a child of her own now. I can hardly imagine what my life had been like if I had never taken that position in Lady Woodfell's home. I have been blessed countless times. Sometimes when I look at Jim, I see the same young man who called me 'absolutely breathtaking' at his 21st birthday party.

Despite what lot had been given to me when my father left, everything came together more beautifully than I could have ever imagined. I suppose I have lived a sort of faery tale, but it has all been very real to me.