by C. Vandyke
Roman: You just want to hear my voice crack.
Malone: It'll be better than the nine troy ounces of cracked gold you've got in that chest of yours.
Roman: And is it ever a heavy weight to carry.
Malone: What you need is to patch that lead-shot filled heart before it sinks you in Davy's locker.
Roman: He may not make for bad company.
Malone: For now though, pick up that burdensome heart, and put on your mask. You're in our company for the time being and maybe we'll find someone to unload the buckshot from your feels.
Bostock: Come on, slowpokes, we need to get in there.
Roman: Seriously though, let me be the king.
Malone: No can do, toucan. You do better performing than you do glooming about.
Roman: Maybe I should just play Hamlet and kill everyone.
Malone: As long as it doesn't get Monty down our throats.
Roman: This is a bad idea, not just me performing.
Malone: I think it's bloody brilliant.
Roman: I had this dream yesterday.
Malone: So did I, what a coincidence.
Roman: You gonna share your dream with the rest of the class?
Malone: Sure. I had to take over for Monty for a day and convinced the guys to take up a bit of fishing. We caught this monster of a shark that pulled us all in and we found the largest pearls in an oyster bed and made bank. Only after we got ported did I find out I'd done the whole thing without my pants. Now, which part of that dream is the biggest fish story you ever heard?
Roman: Probably about the part where you sleep long enough to have a dream.
Malone: Says the guy who's been watching Selene drive her chariot across the sky a week running now. One'd think you'd fallen in love with her.
Roman: Maybe just hoping she'd give me a couple words of wisdom.
Malone: Here's your words of wisdom then, lover boy: loosen the hell up. We're just gonna have a bit of fun.
Bostock: Y'all keep yammering and we'll never get there in time. They've already finished doing rounds on meals. I see the waiters clearing out the first round of trash bins for the evening.
Roman: This has got me all kinds of vibes. An enriching experience that'll leave me poorer in the end. Or maybe a poor experience leaving me richer in the end. An odd feeling. I guess I must be odd if we're planning on doing Hamlet in front of Lutterell.
Bostock: Put on a bit o' swagger, boys. We're going in.
Exeunt Roman, Bostock, and Malone.
Scene 5.
Squanderer's Bay: Prodigal Son. Musicians waiting. Enter pub staff with help from Galley crew
Palmer: Dammit all, where'd that bilgerat get off to? I can't have plates stacking up here.
Galley Help: Help, good or otherwise, is almost impossible these days.
Palmer: Jefferson! Show yourself, you sodding clot! Louis, take this crap out of here before I knock something over. Leave me a bit of that pie if you know what's good for you.
Galley Help: On it, sir!
Jefferson: What! What! What! I'm here.
Palmer: Cap's looking for you.
Galley Help: You can't be both here and with the cap. Get out of here.
Exeunt Palmer and Jefferson. Enter Captain Lutterell, Boatswain, Tyndall, Sailing Master Luther, Jules, and other crew members. Black Albatross crew meet Roman, Bostock, Malone, other party members, and pub staff.
Captain Lutterell: Welcome crew and friends of The Black Albatross! We celebrate tonight! Though it is not of tradition to keep the times in such a manner, I wish you to join me in marking the passing of my seventy-fifth year alive and fiftieth year as captain of The Black Albatross! I must blame my luck on Fortuna and the madams of the Bay! Now, behold, entertainment of a type for the evening. Food, drink, crappy actors. Who brought the tomatoes? Right, boatswain! Bring the box over here and sit down. You and I are gonna see who gets the first actor in the face. (Sits down in chair.)
Boatswain: (brings box of rotting tomatoes and sets it next to Captain's chair before sitting down.) Best seat in the house, Captain. You always remember my arthritis.
Captain Lutterell: Surely you can't be arthritic, you old gunner. You're just fifteen years my younger.
Boatswain: You keep adding to that number, Cap. I'm five years your younger and we grew up together chasing seagulls not far from our mothers' skirts.
Captain Lutterell: You were chasing seagulls. I was chasing skirts.
Roman: (whispering to a crewman, pointing out Jules) Psst. Yeah, you. Hey, who's that over there? No, not that one. The one with the eyepatch. Oye, no, my blind fellow. Okay, fair, half the people here have one. Yes, you've got one, I get it. Sorry. The one with the bit of swagger. Yeah, yeah, that one.
Crewman: No clue.
Roman: Damn.
Tyndall: I smell a Montgomery. (To a crewman) I left my knife in my cabin. Bring it to me. No one of the Blades curses my crew.
Captain Lutterell: Tyndall, what by all the pearls in the hold, are you going on about?
Tyndall: We've got a Blade in here. They've come to crash the party.
Captain Lutterell: Hold, Tyndall. It's Roman, isn't it, under that costume? Good Lord, he's dressed as Hamlet.
Tyndall: An even worse omen. Let me spill his guts across the deck.
Captain Lutterell: No, don't go slicing him apart. Even the Blades can spit out decent people. He's upstanding to a fault and has no stomach for bloodletting. He's their quartermaster and we might just have need to split him from the Blades if'n our Jules takes up with Parker's crew instead.
Tyndall: You cannot be serious, sir.
Captain Lutterell: You want to test that accusation, Tyndall?
Tyndall: You would protect a Montgomery, after everything they've done to us?
Captain Lutterell: Shut it, Tyndall. Last warning. Don't jeopardize the truce, it's tenuous as it is. He's known as one of the most virtuous of the quartermasters in these parts.
Tyndall: Have it your way. Him being here is just asking for the crew to go volatile, and then we really will have Montgomery up our mast.
Tyndall exits.
Roman: (Sips beer before approaching Jules. Offers Jules the pint.) Bit lonely over here, don't you think?
Jules: (Takes beer.) They say sharing a glass someone's drunk from is like a second-hand kiss. (Drinks.)
Roman: And your thoughts on second-hand kisses?
Jules: I prefer them first hand.
Roman: You seem not to mind a second-hand kiss from me.
Jules: It is not so much that I do not mind.
Roman: Then will you mind first hand?
Jules: Only if you don't free me of this whole flirting thing. I'm crap at this.
Roman: Then allow me a liberty. (They kiss.) Ale does taste better this way, if I might say so.
Jules: I might agree.
Roman: Would you like to be certain?
Jules: If you would like to be certain. (They kiss once more.) Even bad pick up lines yield good results some days.
Doc: Jules, Sailing Master wants you.
Jules moves to leave.
Roman: Who is their Sailing Master?
Doc: Luther from The Black Albatross.
Roman: May they fly and never land. (To himself) Crap, an Albatross. With what bad luck does Fortuna wish to bless me this time?
Bostock: Let's get out before you have to monologue more Hamlet. They've got tomatoes and they're throwing them at both the good and bad acts.
Roman: I'd brave the tomatoes.
Captain Lutterell: Now, now my fine actors, don't exit stage left just yet! I promise to withhold the tomatoes if you give us another glimpse into the life of Hamlet! (Pub staff whispers in his ear) Past hours! It was just getting fun. Fine. Alright, you bilge rats, return to your stations. We're getting evicted for the favor of the rising sun.
Everyone other than Jules and Doc exit.
Jules: Doc, my vision isn't what it was. Who's that leaving?
Jules: And that? They all look alike right now.
Doc: Let me think. The Djinn's Lamp's sailing master, or was she the quartermaster?
Jules: And the ones from the play tonight?
Doc: No clue, Jules. It's late. Or early. What is dawn when you've been up all night?
Jules: Go ask, I can't see in this glare and I think Captain would like to see them do another play sometime. (Doc leaves) I might just have a celebrity crush now.
Doc returns.
Doc: We had a freaking Montgomery in the house. Roman, their quartermaster, played Hamlet.
Jules: And he has good taste in beer.
Doc: Hold up. Do what?
Jules: Prodigal Son's stocking good beer.
(Someone calls for Jules off stage)
Doc: It was stale. Let's get back to ship and get you reinstated in your regular cabin. It has a good vantage overlooking the fleets this time around. You've been in the infirmary since before we docked. Waking up to something nice to look at will be easy on the eye.
They exit.
FIN
The Dowery
The Bride-token: The Legend of How Bananas Came to Be
Imelda Taylor
Once in the town of St. Nicholas, a young man, called Barty, sought the heart of a baron's daughter, Anne, through his songs and poetry. Under a willow tree, they fill their days with laughter, songs and dreams of the future.
'I want to see what's across the seas and beyond the horizons. Stop on every island, taste every type of food and hear every bird song,' said Anne.
'And I would like to be there by your side. I have not much in life, but you fill it to the brim with grace and beauty. It might be time I asked your father for your hand.' Barty looked into his lady’s eyes.
Anne was overjoyed. She replied, 'First, there is something you must learn.' She lifted the hem of her skirt and 'lo one leg was missing. 'I'm not complete,' she said, in tears. ‘For this, no man would have me as his wife.’
'You are complete to me in every way,' said Barty.
When they said their goodbyes, Anne’s maid remarked, ‘Forgive my impertinence, my lady, but I do not wish to see your heart broken. Are you certain this lad meant well?’
‘I am but a damaged good, Felicity. If he could love me as I am now, then, there can never be a better man.’
‘And your father?’
‘My father? I can see him happy to give me away. After all, he has been trying for many years and this could be an opportunity he has been waiting for.’
‘Will your lover be able to provide better? I fear his intentions might not be pure.’
‘It is upon him to worry. A lady mustn't bother herself with such matters.’
The day arrived when Barty was to ask for his sweetheart’s hand.
‘Certainly,’ the baron said. ‘Of course, it is customary to provide a token to the bride's family? As a father, I also want to make sure my daughter will live the utmost comfort in life. What have you got to offer, boy?’
'My undying love, sir.'
To this, the baron laughed out loud. 'Have you got land? Wealth? A mansion to house my daughter? Or do you think I'm a fool?'
The boy shook his head quietly.
'Well, I'll tell you what I think of you! You are a rapscallion trying to swindle our family. Now, be gone!' the baron shouted at Barty as he turned him away.
Anne was broken hearted and embarrassed by how his father behaved. She was crying in her room when suddenly she heard a tapping from her window. She looked outside and saw Barty.
‘Come with me and be my wife!’ shouted Barty from down below. Anne wasted no time. She took off her wig and heavy garb and jumped from the window in only her pantaloons. Barty caught her and wrapped her in his coat.
‘My lady!’ the maid called and threw out Anne's stick. Then off went the lovers on horse.
Barty took care of his lady. He made her a leg out of wood and a shoe with wheels. She wore no wigs, no pannier, no gowns; content with her trousers, shirt and coat—yet she remained the most beautiful lady in his eyes.
Time passed, and Anne was struck with an illness. Barty, full of fear that his love would depart, went back to the baron to beg for his help. The baron, whose heart had turned to ice when his daughter eloped, refused Barty’s plea.
'My lord, please, I ask nothing more than for my love, your daughter, to live. I have never humbled myself in front of anyone until.' Barty's love showed through his eyes as he persevered. Upon seeing this, the baron felt ashamed he couldn't love his daughter as much. However, the baron's greed was more potent than his love.
‘Very well. Bring her back. But I still expect a bride-token if you want to keep her as your wife,’ the cunning baron said. 'And since you asked for nothing more, it is what you shall get.' The baron made Barty sign an agreement stating he had no right to any of their family's fortune.
Upon returning Anne to her father's house, Barty promised Anne that one day he’d come back.
In desperation, Barty headed to the port and looked for a ship which sailed to Squanderers Bay. As a stow away beneath the tatty merchant ship's deck, he found items he could 'borrow' to trade. He took a sack, a powder flask, and the finest clothes he could find on board. The boy had a plan. Barty wasn’t a skilled thief, but he was stealthy.
When he reached Squanderers Bay, he headed to Atoll of the Giants where he had heard he could harvest pearls. Three days he harvested till his sack was full, not only with pearls but oysters and other shells too. With treasure at hand but no ship to take him home, Barty staged his next scheme.
He used the shells to adorn the powder flask he had taken and ground some pearls into powder to fill it. Once a dull item, it became a thing of beauty. He peddled his ware in fine clothes and proclaimed to the crowd:
‘Last one left. A treasure from the sea, a miracle flask with magic powder which enhances your lady’s beauty, used by mermaids themselves.’
With some demonstration, he was able to entice ladies who bid for the item. Alas, it was not the end of his cunning plan. He told the disappointed ladies, ‘Please mesdames, it breaks my heart to see you in this state. I could come back with some more, but my ship was recently stolen. Therefore, there is no way to source such goods. Oh, if only I had my ship back, I could provide an endless supply.’
One of the ladies tugged at her husband and asked that he provide Barty with a vessel. The gentleman made a deal, so long as he got a share of his profit upon his return. Barty agreed, knowing he would never see them again.
He wasted no time and set off home to his beloved to present the pearls to her father. The baron accepted and released his daughter to her love. They sailed the sea and settled in Silona.
In a terrible twist of fate, sailors whose Captain was the same man Barty fooled into lending him a ship arrived on Isla De Los Torcidos. Sure enough, he recognised his ship, which had become home to Barty and Anne.
Men raided the place, found Barty with Anne and took him away by force. Anne held on to her husband’s hand so tightly they cut it off. Barty was never seen again.
Anne kept her husband’s hand close to her bosom, never letting go. She searched alone, weeping. The locals soon found her lifeless body and buried her near the woods with Barty’s hand.
Time passed. A plant appeared on the spot where Anne was buried. It grew into what looked like a tree and from it, came a heart-shaped bloom. From its bloom, fruits which looked like fingers grew.
The locals of Silona called it banane, believing it came from Barty's hand and Anne's heart.
Stolen Goods
J.C. Pillard
In the all-encompassing shadows enshrouding Isla de Luz, Jess was looking towards the edge of night.
Behind her, the dock stretched back to the fishing district. The ocean’s still, inky waters lapped against the wood, a soft song just audible above the bustle of the Port Iberia market. Jess breathed dee
p, taking in the salty tang of the air and staring towards where the darkness ended. She strained her eyes, trying to see past it, to imagine the world outside.
She tried to imagine the sun.
Jessica Cartwright had been born in the darkness. This didn’t make her particularly special: if you were born on Isla de Luz, where the only constant light was that of the Lighthouse, then darkness walked beside you from your first breath. But from her earliest infancy, Jess dreamed of seeing the sun. She recalled her mother telling her stories of it—the brilliant, beautiful light that hung over the world outside. Now, whenever Madame Colette Delacroix sent her into the market, Jess always found herself on the dock, peering towards where the shadows ended and wondering how it would feel to walk beneath the sun.
One day you’ll see the sun, my green-eyed lass, her mother had said. So far, that prophecy had not come true.
Behind her, the bells of Port Iberia rang, marking the hours in the eternal night and startling Jess. She shook off the memories, turning away from the undulating ocean. Plucking up her basket, she headed back towards the market.
Port Iberia was the largest city by far on Isla de Luz, and Jess had rarely left it. She’d been to End of the World once or twice, and she’d seen the Lighthouse. But Port Iberia was where the family of her employ had their primary seat, and so it was in Port Iberia that Jess remained.
Passing through the bustling crowds along the marina, she cast a longing glance towards the tall masts of the ships lining the docks. Frigates and schooners, sails furled tightly against the nighttime breezes, bobbed at anchor while their crews took in the pleasures of the city. Jess muscled her way out of the docks and into the crowd of the open air market. Stalls selling every imaginable good—and some unimaginable ones—lined either side of the street. Jess drifted to the right, passing several jewelers’ stalls. One of the jewelers, a mustachioed and portly man, was occupied in discussion with a sailor. As she passed his stall, Jess let her hand glide over the fine jewels lining the table’s edge, and a pair of ruby earrings found their way into her hand.
