Chapter 7
The cool breeze from the open windows in her room, fluttered through Carolyn's hair that morning as she sat at her desk, typing. She'd finished several articles already and was working on yet another. The sooner she finished her ongoing work, the sooner she and the captain could make a start on their book.
When a floating stack of papers appeared right in front of her at eye level, Carolyn tilted her head and smiled.
"Good morning, captain," she said, cheerfully. "You look much better than last night. And I see you've been hard at work," she said.
"Good morning, madam," the captain replied, just as jovially and choosing to ignore her comment about his appearance.
He materialised out of thin air, holding a stack of papers and standing beside her desk. "I have indeed been working diligently to compile a list of my most interesting adventures for our book," he said.
"That's quite a list," she remarked.
"Aye, well, it may require some whittling down, but I shall leave that to your sound judgement," he said. "I have a few favourites of course but…" he trailed off for a second and looked down at the stack of papers he'd covered in calligraphic hand writing.
He began to leaf through them with a smile. "There was my almost fatal encounter with the killer whale off the coast of NewFoundLand. The time I escaped from the head hunters of Pernambuco. And we must mention the mermaids of Bermuda…"
"Mermaids?"
"Well…" he pursed his lip.
"Well, what?"
"Well, it transpired that there were in fact no mermaids. They were dolphins. We followed an entirely creditable witness and I was intrigued," he admitted and she laughed.
"And then, disappointed," Carolyn said.
"Quite," he nodded. "Moving on, there was the time that I captured fat Phillipe the pirate and paraded him through the streets where he was pummelled by rotten fruit. My bout with giant squid off Pago Pago…mmm…that was quite a battle. Ah, of course, and speaking of battles, there was the Battle of Vera Cruz which very nearly cost me my life. And of course, we cannot omit the time that I was made an honorary member of a tribe of cannibals off the coast of New Guinea. And the terrible storm off the coast of Madagascar, when I steered my ship through that dreadful squall. The ship, its crew and passengers were all unscathed…shaken perhaps, but alive nonetheless."
"That's quite a collection of stories," Carolyn remarked.
"And that is by no means all of my tales," he assured her. "I hardly led a life of idleness, madam. If the horizon called, I answered," he said, dramatically.
"And it…called…a lot," she said.
"Oh yes," he smiled. "There was far too much to experience to stay ashore for long. The world is a vast, wonderful place with beauty and wonder beyond comprehension to all who ventured to see it. And I wanted to see all. And I did."
"You make it sound a lot easier than it was, I bet."
"Oh, I never claimed that it was an easy life. A life at sea is a difficult one. There were many times that fate almost had me in her clutches. In fact, after one particularly lethal skirmish at sea, the heavy handed saw-bone of a ship's doctor, swore that I'd lose my right leg and he almost cut it off in a misguided attempt to save my life," the captain said. "Fortunately I was still conscious on the operating bench and I was able to set him to rights," he finished, proudly.
"And how did you do that?"
"Simply by informing him, that if he removed my leg, then I would remove his."
"A leg for a leg?" Carolyn raised an eyebrow.
"Indeed. He was always most keen to remove the limbs of others, whether the injury truly warranted it or not, but much less keen to lose his own. Suffice to say, that I recovered and I did not lose my leg," he added.
"Well, now you've gone and spoilt the ending," she said, dryly.
"Your concern really is moving, my dear," he drawled.
"Oh, now I didn't say I wasn't concerned," Carolyn said, quickly. "But obviously you didn't lose your leg," she added.
"No, of course I did not," he crossed his arms.
"Then neither did that doctor. So it was a happy ending all around."
"I had a long and arduous recuperation. I'd hardly call that a 'happy ending'."
"No," she said, with with an apologetic glance. "It must've been awful, I'm sorry I didn't mean to…"
"No matter," he shrugged. "And I suppose that it was 'happier' for me than for the doctor, and I use that term loosely. I sacked him once I had recovered and I preceded to sail off into the sunset once more," he smiled.
"Well, good," Carolyn smiled back, "He doesn't sound like a good addition to any crew."
"No, indeed," he said and strolled over so that he could peer down at what she had been typing. "What is your current subject, might I ask?" he asked.
"You can ask, but it won't interest you," Carolyn replied. "It's for a women's magazine about the changes in fashion in the last decade, specifically for the modern, working woman," relied and smirked at the look of complete snd utter disinterest on his face. "I told you, you wouldn't be interested," she said.
"Quite," the captain replied. "I suppose my input would not be welcome?"
"I think they're after a more…forward thinking…angle," she replied. "Maybe womens' fashion in the nineteenth century can be their next article."
"A subject on which I could contribute enormously," the captain smirked.
"I'm sure you could," Carolyn rolled her eyes.
"Unless my expertise on the subject is required, I shall leave you to your 'forward thinking' article," he said and left the stack of hand written papers on her desk. "I shall see to it, that you are not disturbed," he said and with a slight incline of his head, he vanished.
He re-appeared in the kitchen where Martha was, predictably, cleaning up.
"Hello, Martha," he said, announcing his prescience.
"Well, you look better," she remarked after looking over at him.
"That is the second time I have been informed of the fact," he sighed. "I could not have looked so shockingly terrible last night."
"Maybe not, but you always look the same, so we're bound to notice any slight change," Martha reasoned.
"Logical, I suppose, if a little inconvenient."
"And by the way, I'm beginning to think the scheme of yours is a bad idea if it's going to make you vanish for days in end."
"You already swore an oath…"
"I know," she grumbled. "But you didn't have to deal with them running around, worried sick about you and I'm no good at keeping secrets from people like this, not when I know they're worried and I'm just lying to them. I didn't know it'd have you vanishing like that."
"It is unavoidable," he replied, "And all for a good cause."
"You won't do them any favours if you keep disappearing like that. Those children have gotten attached to you…as impractical as it is!" Martha shook her head.
"You gave me your word…"
"You didn't have to listen to the kids stomping up and down the house looking for you!" she exclaimed.
"Not quite so loud," he hissed. "Mrs. Muir is working and not to be disturbed," he said. "Before you consider breaking your word, at least give me a few weeks to learn if I can manipulate this ability beyond the space of a few short seconds. I will make my attempts while you are all asleep from now on, at least that way, no one will notice my absence."
"We hope," she scoffed.
"Should they notice, or should I fail to materialise before morning, I trust you will be able to calm the situation and fabricate a suitable excuse," he said.
"Right…" Martha muttered and then he vanished. "Well, I've really done it this this," she lamented and shook her head.