فصل 35

CHAPTER 35

DEASY’S TALE

CAPTAIN HOOK STOOD AT the starboard rail of the Jolly Roger, a happy man. At last—at last—he was where a pirate belonged, at sea, in command of a ship. Granted, the ship had pink sails; Hook could barely bring himself to look at them. But he intended to fix that problem by stealing the sails of the first ship he encountered, along with anything else of value. Why, he’d take the whole ship if he liked it better than the one he commanded now.

Hook spat into the dark blue water. He smiled, imagining the terrified looks on the faces of those aboard the first ship he attacked. The word would spread quickly, he was sure of it. Hook was back. The world would quiver in fear.

“Cap’n!” shouted the helmsman.

Hook turned and said, “What is it?”

The helmsman pointed to port.

“Smoke,” he said.

Hook quickly crossed the deck and squinted into the distance. It took him a moment, but then he saw it: a black smudge on the horizon.

“Steamer,” he said.

“Aye,” said the helmsman at the wheel. “Heading northeast.”

Hook rubbed his chin, careful to use his non-hook hand. He was surprised to see a steamer this far out to sea; in his pirating years, steamers had mainly been slow and fairly small coastal vessels. But no matter. Whatever had brought this ship out to the open sea, it was going to be Hook’s ship soon. Its cargo, his cargo.

He studied the wind a moment, the direction of the smudge on the horizon, noted the position of the sun, then shouted some orders. His men adjusted the sails; the helmsman altered his course a few degrees.

“Smee!” bellowed Hook.

The spherical first mate appeared a minute later, puffing from the exertion of climbing the ladderway.

“Aye, Cap’n?”

Hook pointed at the smudge. “Y’see that ship, Smee?”

Smee squinted. “No, Cap’n,” he said. “But I do see smoke.”

“That’s the ship, you idjit. It’s a steamer. That’s coal smoke you see. I’ve put us on a course that will intercept her after sunset. Cover of darkness, Smee. A sneak attack. They’ll never know what hit them.”

Smee nodded, frowning doubtfully at the smoke.

“Now, listen, Smee, I want you to go below and check them prisoners, make sure they’re secure. Don’t want ’em getting loose in the fray.”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

“And check that pesky girl, too. Tell her to keep to her cabin until it’s over.”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

Smee was still frowning at the smoke smudge. There was something troubling about this plan, but he couldn’t quite think of what it might be.

“Don’t stand there gaping like a grouper!” bellowed Hook. “Get below!”

“Aye,” said Smee, waddling away, still frowning.

Hook turned back to look at the smoke smudge once again. It had already grown noticeably larger.

Hook grinned.

“They’ll never know what hit them,” he said.

Peter, hidden high in the sails almost directly over Hook’s head, had seen the steamer and heard the pirate’s plan.

“Tink,” he whispered. “When you go to Wendy’s cabin tonight, I’m going with you.”

Tink had been visiting Wendy after dark to get food and water. Wendy saved it from her rations, and Tink carried it, a bit at a time, up to Peter.

You can’t go, chimed Tink. They’ll see you. She didn’t mention her other reason, which was that she liked having Peter to herself, away from that girl.

“I have to go,” said Peter. “I need to warn Wendy that Hook’s planning to attack that ship.”

Why! said Tink.

Peter didn’t actually have a good reason. He was bored from being stuck in his cramped hiding place, and he wanted to see Wendy.

“In case something happens,” he said.

Tink made a disgusted face and chimed, You just want to see that girl.

“Don’t be silly,” said Peter.

I’M not being silly, said Tink. YOU’RE the one who’s going get himself killed by Hook.

Peter smiled and said, “He’s already killed me, Tink. Remember?”

Tink made a disgusted sound, turned her back, and refused to talk to Peter again until nightfall.

Samuel Deasy walked unsteadily to the starboard rail on the main deck of the steamship Lucy, a two thousand-ton liner carrying one hundred eighty-five passengers across the ocean in considerable luxury.

Most of the passengers, including Deasy’s wife and her family, were still in the dining hall, finishing a lavish dinner. But Deasy had consumed a bit too much wine—quite a bit too much wine—and was feeling queasy. He was also annoyed by the disapproving looks he was getting from his in-laws, particularly his mother-in-law, who was not fond of him. So he had announced that he wanted to get some fresh air, and made his way unsteadily to the main deck.

The sun had set, and the moon had risen full and bright. Deasy leaned heavily on the rail, listening to the deep thrum-thrum-thrum of the ship’s engine and watching the water whoosh past far below. He raised his head and looked out at the vast expanse of ocean, utterly empty except for …

A sailing ship.

It was running without lights but was visible in the moonlight, ahead and just a bit to starboard. To Deasy, it appeared to be on something of a collision course. At the least, it would pass very close to the Lucy. He was not worried; he assumed that the ships were aware of one another. The helmsmen would adjust their courses accordingly.

What Deasy didn’t know was that the helmsman of the Lucy had also had a bit too much to drink this night. He was half asleep at the wheel, unaware of the dark and far smaller sailing ship to starboard, a ship on a heading certain to cross his course.

“Cap’n,” said Smee.

“What is it?”

The two stood on the foredeck of the Jolly Roger, watching—along with every other pirate on the ship—as the steamship, ablaze with lights, churned toward them, looking taller and more massive every second.

“Well,” said Smee, “I was just thinking that the ship…that is, it’s…it’s …”

“It’s what, Smee?”

“It’s big, Cap’n. It’s quite big.”

Hook had been thinking the same thing. He had never seen a ship quite so large as the one bearing down on him, nor one that moved so fast. The smudge of smoke had turned into a towering, billowing plume.

“I was wondering,” said Smee, “if perhaps we should plunder a different ship. One that’s not so…big.”

Hook turned around and saw that his men were listening with great interest, awaiting his response to Smee’s suggestion. In his heart, he wanted to agree with Smee. If he could have thought of a good piratical reason for not attacking the steamship, he would have done so. But to simply quit—to turn tail and run like a scared dog—Hook could not bring himself to do that. He was Captain Hook. Captain Hook did not run.

“Smee,” he said, speaking loudly so all the crew could hear.

“Aye, Cap’n.”

“What are we?”

“Nervous, Cap’n?”

“WE ARE NOT NERVOUS,” bellowed Hook, nearly bowling Smee over. “WE ARE PIRATES!”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

“AND WE ARE GOING TO PLUNDER THAT SHIP!”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

Hook turned to face the crew. “Any man who feels otherwise,” he said, “is welcome to jump overboard now.”

He glared at them. Nobody moved.

“Good,” said Hook. “Prepare to board.”

He turned to face the oncoming Lucy, which looked like a mountain moving through the sea.

“Do you hear that?” said Cheeky O’Neal.

“Hear what?” said Rufus Kelly.

The two were sitting slumped against the walls of their cramped and stinky cell. Frederick DeWulf and Angus McPherson were sprawled on the filthy floor, snoring.

“Ship’s engine,” said O’Neal. “Close by.”

Kelly listened. “I hear it,” he said, after a moment. “Sounds like a big ’un.”

O’Neal rose and went to the cell door. He grabbed it with his massive hands and shook it. It didn’t give; it never did. He cursed, then turned and kicked at the two sleeping men. They woke up, grumbling.

“What is it?” said DeWulf.

“Ship,” said O’Neal. “Nearby.”

“What good does that do us, locked in here?” said DeWulf.

“I don’t know,” said O’Neal. “Maybe they’ll board us. Maybe the fool Hook will try to board them. Maybe nothing. But I want us to be ready. If we get out of here, we make for the lifeboat, starboard side. Don’t waste a second. Kill any man tries to stop you.”

The men nodded. Now they could all clearly hear the thrum of the other ship’s engine.

“Very close,” said O’Neal.

On the deck of the Lucy, Samuel Deasy watched with increasing fascination as the liner bore down on the sailing ship. Neither ship had altered course. They were now close enough to each other that in bright moonlight Deasy could clearly see men standing on the deck of the sailing ship. He could also see that the ship’s sails were an odd color—pink, it looked like.

It was evident now that the ships were going to collide. Deasy wondered if he should shout a warning. But to whom? He looked around: There was no one else on deck. There was nothing he could do.

Deasy turned back to the rail, unable to look away from the disaster about to take place below.

Peter and Tink dropped to the deck at the stern of the Jolly Roger, unseen by Hook and the crew, all of whom were staring with various degrees of fear at the monstrous looming steamship hull.

“Where is she?” Peter whispered.

This way.

Tink, a streak of light, shot down a ladderway. Peter was right behind. Tink zoomed along a passageway and stopped in front of a door. Peter yanked it open. Inside it was dark. Somehow, Wendy had slept through the excitement.

“Wendy, wake up!” Peter said.

“Peter?” she said, her voice sleepy. “What is it?”

“We’ve got to get out now!” said Peter, tugging at her arm.

“Get out?” she said. “Why?”

Fine, chimed Tink. Let’s leave her here.

“We’re about to be hit by a ship!” said Peter. “A very large ship.”

“WHAT?” said Wendy.

Not very bright, is she? observed Tink.

“A ship!” said Peter, dragging Wendy into the passage-way. “Hurry! We have to get on deck before—”

But it was too late.

What saved the Jolly Roger from being instantly crushed by the massive hull of the Lucy was that at the last possible instant, Hook lost his nerve. With the steamship’s sharp prow only yards away, he suddenly turned and—in a surprisingly high, almost girlish, voice—screamed at the helmsman, “HARD TO STARBOARD! HARD TO STARBOARD!”

With all his strength, the helmsman spun the wheel right. It was not nearly enough movement to get the Jolly Roger out of the steamship’s path, but it was just enough to turn the smaller ship so that the larger one, instead of hitting head-on, scraped it at an angle.

But it was a tremendous collision for those aboard the Jolly Roger—a thundering crash, then a horrendous grinding sound, as the Lucy, herself barely affected, pushed the smaller ship violently sideways as if she were a scrap of driftwood, hurling Hook and his men to the deck. The Lucy surged past, raking the length of the Jolly Roger’s port side, ripping away pieces of her deck and hull. The pirates hung on to whatever they could grab to keep from sliding overboard as the Jolly Roger leaned sideways at a sickening angle.

Belowdecks, Peter and Wendy were hurled sideways, slamming into the passageway wall. Peter’s head hit something, and he fell to the floor, dazed.

Tink was at his ear instantly.

Up! Up! she chimed. Out! Out!

Peter groaned, his head throbbing. He felt blood trickling down his face. He struggled to get to his feet. It was difficult because he felt woozy, and something seemed to be wrong with the floor. He felt Wendy pulling him up.

“Peter,” she said, “are you all right?”

“I think so,” he said, staggering sideways. “The floor …”

“The ship is listing,” said Wendy. “We have to get out of here.”

As I already told you, noted Tink.

Holding on to each other, with Tink lighting their way, a wounded Peter and a determined Wendy headed toward the aft ladderway.

“What’s happened?” said McPherson, struggling to his feet, his voice on the edge of panic.

“We collided,” said DeWulf. “And we’re taking on water. Hear it?”

From somewhere near their cell came the sound of rushing water.

“We’ll drown!” shouted McPherson.

“Be quiet!” snapped O’Neal. He grabbed the door and shook it, but it still held firm. His eyes scanned the cell, stopping at a corner to his right. Where the walls had once met flush, there was now a gap of about an inch.

“Come here!” he shouted to the others. They stumbled over, and he positioned them against one of the walls.

“On three, push like your lives depend on it,” he said, “because they do. One…two…THREE!”

The four heaved against the wall, and the gap widened by several inches.

“Again!” said O’Neal. “One…two…THREE!”

With a crash, the wall gave way. The men stumbled into the passageway.

“The lifeboat,” said O’Neal. “Nobody stops us.”

Peter and Wendy climbed onto the deck. The Jolly Roger had righted itself somewhat but was still listing. The steamship’s long hull had just finished passing; its stern loomed high above, bearing the name Lucy.

Peter looked forward on the deck of the Jolly Roger. Hook, Smee, and the rest of the pirates were regaining their footing, turning to watch the ship that had almost crushed them.

And then Hook saw Peter.

For a moment he stood utterly still, staring.

“You!” he shouted. “You’re dead. I killed you.”

“He don’t look very dead to me, Cap’n,” said Smee.

Hook ignored Smee, keeping his glittering black eyes on Peter. Had the boy’s ghost come back to haunt him? But no: he appeared perfectly real. Hook started walking aft.

“I killed you once, boy,” he said. “And I will kill you again.”

“Peter,” said Wendy. “Fly away. Now.”

Yes, said Tink, in a rare moment of agreement. Fly.

Peter wiped some blood from his eyes, trying to force his woozy brain to think.

“Peter, he’ll kill you!” said Wendy. “Fly!”

Hook was only yards away, his razor-sharp hook held high.

“Wendy,” said Peter. “Hang on.”

She started to speak, but her words became a scream when Peter reached behind her, grunted, and picked her up.

“NO!” screamed Wendy.

NO! chimed Tink.

“NO!” bellowed Hook.

Ignoring them all, Peter turned, took two staggering steps, and with a desperate effort leaped with Wendy over the stern rail of the ship, eluding by inches the furious arc of the pirate captain’s lunging hook.

On the main deck of the Lucy, Samuel Deasy had trotted the entire length of the starboard rail from bow to stern, trying to stay even with the drama below, watching with fascinated horror as the steamship’s hull brushed aside and swept past the sailing ship.

Incredibly, the smaller ship had not sunk. And now, as it tossed in the wake of the Lucy, Deasy saw an amazing scene unfold. Two children—a boy and a girl—stood on the moonlit aft deck as a tall man charged toward them, shouting, with something—a knife?—glinting in his hand. Just as he was about to reach the children, the boy swept the girl into his arms and, as Deasy gasped, leaped off the stern.

What happened next was so astonishing that Deasy nearly fell over the rail. The boy and the girl, instead of falling into the sea, began to…rise. Their ascent was wobbly; it seemed to require great effort on the boy’s part. But after a few moments they had gained enough altitude to be level with Deasy. They continued to rise as they flew toward the Lucy, passing a good fifty feet over Deasy’s head, preceded by a strange streak of light, like a tiny shooting star.

“Hello!” shouted Deasy, this being the only thing he could think of to say.

The boy and girl did not respond; they swooped toward the bow of the Lucy, passing the tall, red-and-black smoke-belching funnel. Then they were gone, leaving Deasy struggling to comprehend what he had just seen—if he’d seen it at all.

He heard a shout, and turned to look astern. The sailing ship was rapidly disappearing behind; it would soon be out of sight. But Deasy could see that the tall man was still standing at the stern rail, shouting in the direction of the Lucy. He seemed very, very upset.

O’Neal, DeWulf, Kelly, and McPherson crept along the starboard rail, unseen and unheard. The pirates were all on the port side of the Jolly Roger, some assessing the damage inflicted by the steamer, some watching Hook, who was still screaming curses at the hated flying boy.

It took less than a minute for the four men, experienced hands all, to untie the lifeboat and lower it over the side. With O’Neal rowing as quietly as he could, they slipped quickly and silently away from the Jolly Roger, undetected by the pirate crew and their furious captain.

Samuel Deasy, red-faced and disheveled, stumbled into the elegant main dining room of the Lucy, shouting incoherently. He was quickly surrounded by a curious crowd, which included the steamship’s captain, an experienced, dignified-looking seaman named Alfred Hart, who’d been dining with invited passengers at his table.

It took several minutes for Deasy to calm down enough to get his story out. And quite a story it was, starting with an account of the Lucy colliding with a sailing ship. This drew doubtful looks from the crowd, as nobody had felt anything. A few guests went out on deck and returned quickly to report that they saw nothing. Captain Hart declared that such a thing would not happen, especially not on a bright moonlit night.

But Deasy was adamant: not only had they struck another ship, but that ship had pink sails!

Now the doubtful looks turned to amusement: clearly this man was drunk. Deasy’s wife and her family, mortified, tried to pull him away, but he yanked himself free and began shouting that two children had leaped off the sailing ship and…flown over the steamship.

At this absurdity, the crowd roared with laughter. Deasy’s in-laws, furious, were pulling him away as he continued to insist that he had seen these things with his own eyes. He was still shouting as he was dragged out of the dining room.

The passengers returned to their tables, still laughing. Now they’d have a fine story to tell, about a drunk who claimed he’d seen a pink-sailed ship and flying children.

Of all the silly tales!