Captain James Hook and the Curse of Peter Pan (5 page)

“James,” my father snapped. “The admiral was addressing you.”

“It’s quite alright, Captain,” the admiral said.
 
“He wouldn’t be a Hoodkins if he weren’t enthralled with the horizon.”

My father, Officer Jukes, and the admiral exchanged pleasantries.
 
There was a tone of seriousness to their light conversation that was unsettling.
 
When we finally reached the admiral’s office, I saw Captain Ashley through the open door and was reminded what unsettling truly meant.
 
He looked at me with disdain and curled a corner of his mouth into a snicker.
 
The blood rose into my face as my eyes devoured him with hatred.

William and I remained in the hall as the meeting continued.
 
We played for hours but kept the door in view.
 
When it opened, our fathers were changed men.
 
The crew didn’t hear the new orders until later, but from that moment forward, the whole tone of the journey changed. There were fewer smiles and far less laughter.

That same night, as usual, William finished his side of the ship first.
 
He went off to bed and I was left on the bow.
 
As I secured the tethers to the forward mast, I was alone with my thoughts.
 
In them, Emily smiled and moved in to kiss me gently.
 
Her lips parted to tell me something that I cannot hear.
 
I closed my eyes and a small voice came from above.

“I saw your ship and want to play with it,” the mild voice said.
 
“I don’t have any toys that look this nice where I’m from.
 
My name’s Peter.
 
Peter Pan.”

Chapter Eight

“I’m Peter Pan,” the child said proudly.
 
He was standing on the mast as if it were the floorboards of the deck.
 
I had seen him fly before and although this was nothing new, I was still amazed.

“I’m James,” I told him.
 
It didn’t bother me that I had to reintroduce myself.
 
“We’ve met before.” His blank expression told me of his genuine surprise that we knew each other.
 
“We played weeks ago in my room in Port Royal.”

“Oh,” was all he said, as if bored already.
 
I decided to retell one of the adventures in my literature books as if it were one of ours.

“Did I say my room?” I led.
 
“I meant we played in a magical forest.” His head turned and bent to the side with interest.
 
“You and I had a jolly time robbing wealthy carriages and saving England from the evil prince and his sheriff.” His eyes burst with excitement as I retold the whole adventure.
 

We laughed for a few minutes before I remembered that telling my parents about my first meeting with Peter got me removed from school and put on this ship.
 
It was that thought that reminded me of the other crewmen on deck.
 
A flying boy would be difficult to explain to the officers.

Pan was an expert in evading grownups.
 
He hid on the side of the ship or behind a mast.
 
He even hid in plain view between barrels and behind sheets.
 
The crewmen just passed by each time, looking at me as if I’d been talking to the wind.

“I have a wonderful idea for a game,” Peter said.
 
It’s obvious that he had become bored with hiding.
 
He bent to my ear as if his idea were a great secret that no one else could know.
 
“I’ll steer the ship and you’ll be my first mate.”

“We can’t do that,” I told him.
 
“There are crewmen on watch all night.
 
One of them always steers.”

“Oh.
 
I wanted to steer,” Peter said.
 
He shrank as if all of the air was squeezed out of him.

“Besides,” I said.
 
“The ship is a place of serious work.” This news was more disappointing to him than I expected.

“There’s no talk about work in Neverland,” Peter said.

“Neverland?” I asked. “I’ve never heard of such a place.”

“That’s my home,” Pan said.
 
He pointed to the sky. “It’s easy to get there,” he boasted. “You have to find the second star to the right and follow it until morning.
 
However, only one of my cleverness, not to mention my skill, can survive there.”

He looked up to the stars for a minute.
 
Then his eyes settled on the door to my father’s quarters.

He instantly sprang upright and said, “I don’t have to steer to be captain.
 
Steering is for the men to do.” He glided on air to the captain’s cabin.
 
“I’m so clever.”

“No!” I whispered. “Don’t go in there! That’s my father’s room!”

“You’re father is the captain?” Peter said as he opened the door.
 
“Then he won’t mind if we use his room for a little while.”

I’d been cleaning the opposite side of the ship and didn’t know if Father was in his quarters or below deck.
 
Pan was taking a gamble by barging in as he did.
 
My heart leapt as Peter dove through the door into the darkness of the cabin.
 
I looked to make sure that I was not being watched and followed.

“We can’t be in here,” I said.

“But we are,” Peter said.
 
He looked around the room and smiled, proud with himself for winning the argument.

“That’s not what I mean, Peter,” I said with growing frustration. “We’re not supposed to be here.”

Pan didn’t bother responding.
 
He was too busy digging through my father’s trunk.
 
He grabbed a uniform coat and tied it around his neck.
 
He then pulled a short sword from his waistband and swung it wildly about the room.

I ran to him to take my father’s things back, careful of his blade.
 
I couldn’t let him wreck the whole ship in the name of a good time.
 
Besides, I was sure my father would notice that his uniform was no longer as he left it.

Pan floated upside down above my father’s desk and lit a candle.
 
The flickering light danced on the navigator’s charts.
 
I didn’t see them in the pitch black, but now they shined like the moon on a clear night.

“What are those?” Peter asked, noticing that he was no longer the center of my attention.
 
“They look boring.”

“Far from it,” I said.
 
“This is the route the navigator, Mr. Stevenson, plotted.” Peter looked at me blankly. “These maps show the direction that the ship is going and how it is going to get there.”

Pan was already looking around for something else to do, so I picked up my father’s sword and told him what the crew learned earlier.
 
“We’re going to capture pirates.”

“Pirates?” Peter squealed.
 
“What a game that would be.” He repeated this several times as he slashed the air with the sword.
 
“What I wouldn’t give to fight pirates! Who are we catching?” His next swing came too close and our steel clashed. His eyes flashed with wild excitement. I pushed him back and raised my guard.

“His name is Jesse Labette,” I said, dodging a wild swing.
 
“He is a dreadful pirate who steals whatever he can and kills everyone in his way.”

“He sounds as bad as the Sheriff we fought the last time we met,” Peter said, referring to the story I told him.

“Not exactly, Peter,” I corrected. “This time, we’re on the side of the law and we’re not corrupt.” I swung high and thrust low.
 
The sword was heavy in my hands, so he flew between attacks with ease.
 
He’s fast and well-practiced.
 
If I could only ground him, I’d at least have a chance at keeping up. “Also, pirates don’t usually fight head on.
 
They have smaller ships so that they can sail in shallow water and avoid the bigger British ships.”

“Isn’t it better if he hides?” Peter asked.
 
“It doesn’t seem like much fun if they don’t try to hide first.”

“I don’t think he feels that he has to hide,” I said. “The crew tells rumors of a massive cannon on the bow.
 
They call it Long Tom.
 
It’s a ship killer.” Peter gasped. He then lowered his sword and looked back at my father’s desk.

“Those maps still look boring,” he said, “and I want to play captain.”

The charts called my eyes back to them with each flicker of the candle.
 
I traced my fingers over the course that I memorized the last time I saw them.
 
There were new lines plotted now.
 
One circled around against the current to a gulf on the south side of an island.
 
The other sloped in from the north. The meeting place was marked with a cross.
 
Mr. Stevenson had to be a fool for plotting this trip so carelessly.
 
In seconds, I figured out that the southern course could get to the location much faster sailing with the current and with a more direct route.

Then I got an idea that was far cleverer than Peter’s.

“You can,” I said.
 
I told him that as captain, he could order me to make a course correction.
 
“This is part of what the captain does.”

Pan agreed as long as he was the one giving orders.
 
That was fine by me since I was telling him what orders to give.

Peter flew around the cabin while I was busy at work.
 
Charting a route was easy.
 
I even found the difference in the amount of time and food that was saved by following this course.

I was just putting away my father’s things when the door creaked. Peter dove through the window.
 
I ran to the porthole to see him fly into the distance and vanish from sight.
 
The door rattled open. Father didn’t see me at first, but when he did, I was too far from his desk to arouse suspicion.

Now was not the time for him to see my skills at work.
 
I told him that my condition made me tired and it would be bad form to let the crew to see me that way.
 
With a nod, he sent me off.

I feigned exhaustion until I was out of his sight.
 
I flew to my bunk and dove under the sheet.
 
In one night, I proved Pan was real, made a fool out of Mr. Stevenson, and left the surprise of a lifetime for father.

Chapter Nine

The ship listed to one side and I was thrown off of my bunk.
 
An argument of whispers was followed by a gasp, then the crash of glass on the hardwood floor.
 
I landed on pieces of a broken lantern.
 
The men ran past and over me.
 
Heavy footfalls muffled what was being said.
 
I pulled the glass from my arms as I made my way on deck.
 
Waiting for me was the island I expected, but with a surprise that I didn’t.

Dawn broke over the mast of a ship in the distance.
 
Her dark masts cut deep gashes into the horizon.
 
Smoke billowed from her sides.
 
The shock of the fall still clouded my head.
 
I realized what was happening only after seeing a black flag, its white skull and crossed cutlasses danced in the wind.

Pirates.

My thoughts went to finding William.
 
I made a promise to Emily that I intended to keep.
 
I weaved through the crew as they scrambled to their posts.
 
Like gears in a machine, they worked as one without variation.
 
William was easily found cowering among men.
 
It was a sight that I’d never let him live down.
 
For the first time, I was the one who was strong and fearless.

In battle, William and I had a job to do.
 
I shook him into the moment and we hurried below deck.
 
Along each side of the ship was a row of cannons.
 
The crew had already lined them on the port side.
 
William and I brought the barrels of gunpowder.
 
We returned with the first barrel when we were fired upon again.
 
The ship rocked as we heard wood splintering above deck.

“Long Tom will send us all to a watery grave,” Mr. Stevenson cried.

We loaded and packed the gunpowder.
 
The men placed the cannon balls and lit the fuse.
 
Seconds later, thunder sounded.

We immediately began loading and packing again.
 
I noticed that the pirate ship was closer.
 
I tried to make my adjustments to the angle of the cannon look like an accident.
 
Mr. Stevenson swatted me away and aimed the cannon in haste.
 
Thunder sounded and the shot missed for the second time.

Over the hum in my ears, I heard my father shouting orders.
 
Through the hole in the deck I saw his frustration.

“Where’s Captain Ashley?” he barked at Mr. Jukes.
 
Heath Ashley.
 
Selfishness was one thing, but this was a betrayal that cannot stand.
 
I swore I’d slay him for it, if for nothing else.

Another two crashes sheared the main deck from the ship and my father was gone.

There was nothing but sky over me now.
 
The salt spray stung my cuts.
 
I stood alone among prone bodies.
 
Three were dead, two were groaning.
 
William stirred but didn’t get up.

Everything my father and Mr. Jukes had taught me led to this moment.