The Hook (1991)

by Terry Brooks

  Jack's jaw dropped. "That is my Dad!" he whispered to himself in disbelief. "It really is!"

  Suddenly there were answering crows from all about and the Lost Boys appeared. They came from everywhere at once, yelling and sounding their battle cries. War paint streaked their faces, and they wore armor to shield their bodies-helmets formed of hollo wed-out gourds, vests and knee and arm pads of bamboo sticks laced together with leather thongs, shoulder pads of shells and wood, and brightly colored feathers and ribbons hanging everywhere. Rufio led the first wave of Lost Boys, catapulting from a springboard onto the ship's rigging. The Lost Boys' skiff, the Dark Avenger, seemed to appear out of nowhere to swing in next to the Jolly Roger. A boarding party clambered up the side. Ace and a handful more launched themselves from cranes and ship spars that jutted from the wharf. Others swung down on ropes and crawled over the railing from the waters below.

  Hook stared in disbelief. It seemed to be raining Lost Boys. He snatched Smee by the shirt front. "Call out the militia! We'll need every last man!"

  Smee charged up the stairs to the aft deck and began ringing a brass bell. "Oh, dear, oh, dear! What about Smee?" he muttered, his enthusiasm for Hook's war noticeably diminished.

  The Lost Boys and pirates engaged in battle, Rufio and his band swinging down out of the rigging with war clubs in hand to clash with sharp-edged steel. Peter had freed himself from the cargo net and joined them. The main deck turned instantly into a battleground.

  Hook charged to the quarterdeck railing, his eyes bright. "By Billy Bones's blood, I love a good war! The perfect start to a perfect day!" He wheeled back to Jack. "It'll be your first taste of blood, eh, son?"

  Jack's small face went pale. First taste of blood? He was beginning to think that being a pirate wasn't so wonderful after all.

  A small band of Lost Boys rushed up the stairs of the quarterdeck, war clubs waving. But Hook met them at the top and tumbled them down again like dominoes.

  A new cry rose as Thud Butt appeared on the wharf front with the remainder of the Lost Boys. He charged up the gangplank, bowling over pirates as he went, knocking several into the drink.

  Amidships, Peter and Rufio had rallied a skirmish line of Lost Boys to face a pirate charge forming below the quarterdeck. Thud Butt and Ace hurried to join them. Crossbows, longbows, blowguns, and slingshots released, sending a hail of hard, knobby, glue-tipped missiles into the pirates. Pistols and cutlasses went flying.

  The pirate charge dissolved in a cacophony of yowls and screeches.

  "Re-form your ranks, you bilge rats!" shrilled Hook in fury. "Remember the fires that forged you!"

  The pirates, of course, had no idea what he was talking about, but hastened to obey anyway. It was doubtful that they knew what they were getting into, having learned nothing from their previous skirmishes with the Lost Boys. But they were nothing if not persistent, and so on they came, giving forth bloodcurdling cries amid clashes of steel.

  At Peter's direction the Lost Boys formed two lines, the front kneeling, the back standing.

  "Steady, boys," he soothed. "Let's show them the white light we're made from."

  The pirates came on, howling. The Pan sword lifted.

  "Front row-dazzle!" Peter cried.

  Up rose a line of mirrors, catching the rising sun's brilliant light and sending it squarely back into the eyes of the attacking pirates. They squinted hopelessly, blinded by the glare. Pirates crashed into one another and tumbled down.

  Then Ace appeared at the forefront of the Lost Boys holding a fearsome-looking cannon on which had been mounted a cage filled with squawking chickens. Ace swung the muzzle about, directing it at the pirates. Eggs shot out of the muzzle, splattering into the pirates, knocking them back. As fast as the chickens could lay, the eggs were fired. Yolks spat from the weapon in yellow streams. Eggshells ejected with a clatter. Faster lay the chickens and faster came the eggs.

  And now the worst. Ace stepped back and the Lost Boy line re-formed. Bamboo tubes were lifted to shoulders, hand pumps were engaged, and streams of marbles caromed into the pirates and onto the deck. Feet skidded and pirates went down in a pile, arms and legs flailing.

  More pirates appeared suddenly from the darkness of the tunnel, summoned by Smee's bell. They charged into the light, weapons drawn, shouting fiercely. But the Lost Boys were waiting. Two lines faced them. The front knelt with shoulder-braced Cataspluts drawn back. As the back dropped rotten tomatoes in place, the Cataspluts released. Once, twice, a third time. Pirates tumbled back, blinded and choking. Pirates slipped and slid into tangled heaps. When one misguided bunch attempted a frontal assault on the gangway, Thud Butt wrapped himself into a ball and the Lost Boys rolled him down the ramp, scattering the pirates like tenpins.

  Rufio and a handful of Lost Boys had pried open the grating of the main hatch. As fast as pirates were captured, they were bundled up and rolled into the hold, cursing all the way. Bruised, egg-soaked, and tomato-splattered, Hook's crew was fast disappearing from view. Those who weren't shoved through the hatchways spilled down the gangplank onto the docks. Everywhere, the battle was being lost.

  On the quarterdeck, Hook watched with a mix of despair and rage. Nothing was going as he had intended. "Smee," he wailed, "do something intelligent!"

  Smee, not hesitating a moment, bolted into the captain's cabin. Hook glared. Very hard to get good help these days, he thought darkly.

  He started for the quarterdeck stairs, determined that someone should pay for this injustice, and came face-to-face with Rufio.

  "Hook!" the leader of the Lost Boys hissed.

  Hook smiled and beckoned him on.

  But then Peter was between them, having flown up from the main deck, the Pan sword cocked. "No, Rufio," he declared. "Hook's mine."

  And the redoubtable captain might well have been, except that in the next instant Peter heard a familiar voice cry out from the docks below. "Jack! Jack! Help!"

  "Maggie!" Peter cried out in recognition and off he flew again.

  Down on the docks, the jailer whom Hook had entrusted with looking after Maggie and the slave kids had come to the conclusion that things weren't going the captain's way. Since his fearless leader was otherwise occupied at the moment and the path out of town seemed unobstructed, he decided now was a good time to think about saving himself.

  But not without a little something to see to his future needs, of course.

  He slipped the iron key he wore about his neck into the lock and released it, pushing open the door. A fierce scowl greeted the anxious faces of the slave kids clustered before him, sending the pack of them scurrying.

  "Jack! Jack!" one little girl called wildly from the window.

  "Slag off, ye little sodder!"he growled at her. "I'll be just long enough to claim my fair share and then-''

  He stopped in his tracks. Another slave kid was in the process of throwing a rope braided from old curtains out the window. "Here! Where do you think you're going? Get away from that window!"

  The slave kid raced for safety and the front room emptied as the bunch of them fled into the recesses of the back. Only the girl was left, still yelling for help. He snatched her up and dragged her away.

  Peter flew in just behind him, landing in a skid, coming face-to-face with a second pirate who appeared at the same instant through another door. The second pirate gave Peter a single glance and dove back the way he had come.

  Peter charged ahead into the second room. The jailer dropped Maggie like a sack of hot coals and whirled about.

  Maggie's eyes went wide. "Daddy?"

  Peter was after the jailer instantly, chasing him about a monstrous globe, giving it a spin as he passed. "Small world, isn't it?" he observed, tickling the fellow's breast bone with the tip of his sword.

  The frantic jailer flattened himself protectively against a Greek statue, but Peter was behind him almost before he could think. A shove toppled the statue and pinned the hapless pirate to the floor.

  Maggie whe
eled into Peter's arms.

  "Daddy!" she cried gleefully.

  He picked her up and swung her about joyfully, then hugged her to him. "I love you so much," he whispered.

  "I love you, too," she murmured back.

  "I'll never lose you again."

  "Stamp me, mailman."

  He kissed her on the forehead as Latchboy and half a dozen other Lost Boys rushed into the room.

  Peter waved in greeting. "This is my daughter, Maggie," he announced, setting her down again.

  "Hi," Maggie greeted.

  "Hi," the Lost Boys greeted back, looking doubtful.

  Peter was already moving toward the door. "You'll be safe with them until I get back, Maggie," he called over his shoulder. "I have to get Jack. Boys, guard her with your lives."

  He gave them a hurried salute and rose into the air.

  Latchboy and the others barely saw him leave, their eyes fixed on Maggie. Finally Latchboy whispered, "Are you really a girl?"

  The Lost Boys were sweeping the decks of the Jolly Roger clean of the few pirates who remained, battening down the main hatch on those who had been captured, and chasing the rest down the gangplank and over the sides. Even Tickles was gone, relieved of his concertina and harried from the ship by Don't Ask. Thud Butt, tired of rolling down rampways, had secured his beloved Four-Way Stop. Working his way into the midst of one pirate melee after another with the bizarre weapon, he had fixed its sight, pulled its trigger, and released a foul-smelling liquid from its four directional tubes into the faces of bewildered pirates, leaving them stunned and gasping for air.

  Inside Hook's cabin, Smee was busily gathering up the captain's most valuable treasures and stuffing them into his pants.

  "What about Smee?" he said over and over. "It's time for Smee. Yes, it is."

  A knot of pirates and Lost Boys burst through the cabin door, fighting as they came, tumbling the furniture and furnishings every which way. Smee shrank from them, hiding behind a Red Cross flag he had confiscated. When a pair of pirates came too close with their weapons, he dropped the flag over their heads, stealing a gold earring from one while doing so.

  "Pretty, pretty," he murmured, testing the gold with his teeth as he moved toward the door, his pants and carry bag brimming with loot.

  On reaching the far wall he paused at a statue of Hook, twisted the captain's nose, and popped open a peephole.

  Can't be too careful, he thought.

  Cautiously, he peered out.

  Hook stood at the forefront of the quarterdeck, squared off once more with Rufio, his eyes red and dangerous. Jack was behind him, secured between Jukes and Noodler.

  "Rufio, Rufio," Hook whispered, drawing the other on.

  Rufio advanced, sword drawn, feinting as he came. "Looky, looky, I got Hooky," he whispered back.

  Hook sneered. "Sadly, you have no future as a poet."

  Peter was flying for all he was worth to reach them, but this time he was too slow. Hook and Rufio engaged, locking swords, fighting across the quarterdeck, lunge and parry, slash and block. Rufio lost his sword once, then got it back. Hook rang the ship's bell with a sweeping blow. It was an even battle between man and boy, pirate and youth, until the wily captain hooked away Rufio's sword with his claw and plunged his own blade deep into the other's body.

  Rufio fell to the deck with a gasp just as Peter reached him. Peter knelt in disbelief, cradling the red-streaked head in his lap.

  Jack freed himself from Jukes and Noodler and rushed forward to stand at Peter's shoulder. Rufio's eyes fixed on him. "Know… what I wish?" he whispered. His eyes shifted to Peter. "That I had… a dad like you."

  And then, because even in Neverland things do not always end well, he died.

  There was a momentary hush as Jack stared down at the fallen Rufio. He felt as if his stomach had been turned to stone. For despite being outwardly a replica of Hook, Jack was decidedly something else inside, where it matters. The thrill and excitement of being a pirate had long since disappeared. The anger and disappointment of being Peter Banning's son had evaporated. His dad had kept his promise this time; he had come for Jack and Maggie. And Jack's memory was stirred by the keeping of that promise-his memory of home and family, of quiet evenings playing board games at the kitchen table, of being read to and reading back in turn, of words of encouragement and wisdom offered when life got a little tough, of all the things that were good and true about his parents.

  He turned to face Hook, and tears sprang to his eyes. His real dad would never kill anyone.

  "He was only a boy like me, Captain," he said, his lower lip quivering. Then his jaw tightened with new determination. "Bad form, Captain James Hook!" he declared. "Bad form!"

  Hook looked stricken.

  Peter rose. He was starting toward Hook, the Pan sword lifting, when Jack called out. "Dad!"

  Peter turned. Jack was shaking his head slowly.

  "Just take me home, Dad. I just want to go home."

  "But… but you are home!" Hook sputtered.

  Peter stared at his son for a long moment, then bent to lift him in his arms. Jack removed his tricorne and tossed it at Hook disdainfully. Carrying his son, Peter Banning started to walk away.

  Hook stared in disbelief. "Wait! Where are you going?" he demanded, his face crestfallen.

  "Home," answered Peter quietly.

  He rose from the ship and flew down to the wharf where the pirates were in full retreat and the Lost Boys in complete command. Shouts and cheers heralded his coming, and the Lost Boys thronged about him as he settled down with Jack at the bottom of the gangway. Maggie rushed out to greet him as well, and he clasped both children in his arms, smothering them with hugs and kisses. Jack squirmed free long enough to take off the Hook coat and fling it aside.

  "Bangerang!" yelled the Lost Boys from all about. "Victory banquet! Victory banquet!"

  Then Latchboy asked, "Where's Rufio?"

  "Yeah, where's Rufio?" the others echoed.

  "He's dead, isn't he?" Ace said quietly.

  "Is Rufio dead forever?" Too Small whispered.

  Peter tried to answer, but no words would come. Then abruptly Hook shouted down to him from the deck of the Jolly Roger.

  "Peter!"

  Peter refused to look. He took Maggie in his arms and, with Jack and the Lost Boys crowding close, started to walk away.

  "Peter!"

  Hook was shrieking at him now, incensed beyond reason. He charged toward the quarterdeck stairs. "Peter, come back and fight me! You hear me. Where are you going? I haven't finished with you, Peter Pan! Is this the best you can offer? I am shocked and dismayed! Bad form!"

  Maggie glanced back over Peter's shoulder. "You need a mommy very, very badly!" she yelled back at Hook.

  The captain reached the quarterdeck stairs just as Smee emerged from his cabin, pants stuffed with Hook's treasure, a bulging bag slung over one shoulder. He was slinking toward the ship's lifeboat when Hook spotted him.

  "Smee!" he howled.

  Smee froze, eyes squinched shut.

  "Stairs!" Hook bellowed.

  Smee's eyes popped open again, a hint of relief showing in his crinkled features. He stamped the decking and the quarterdeck stairs flipped from bare wood to red carpeting. Hook started down without a word.

  Smee tried a reassuring smile. "I was just… moving yer personals, Cap'n. Out of harm's way and all…"

  Hook went past him as if he wasn't there, headed for the gangway. "You can't escape me, Peter!" he howled. His face was as scarlet as his coat. "I'll always be your worst nightmare come true! You'll never be rid of me! I vow to you, everywhere you look there will be daggers with notes bearing JAS. Hook! I'll hang them on the doors of your children's children's children's bedrooms for all eternity!" He kicked at the decking. "Do you hear me?"

  Peter stopped then, turned, set Maggie down beside him, and walked back to the gangway. He stood looking up at the enraged Hook.

  "What do you want, James Hook?" he asked s
oftly.

  Hook's face twisted. "I want you, Peter."

  Peter recognized the truth then. Revenge against Peter Pan was all that mattered to Captain Hook. He was for the captain an obsession that would not pass until one or the other of them was dead. Hook meant what he said. There would be no peace for Peter or his family until this business was finished once and for all. Peter sighed. "You got me, old man."

  On the main deck, Hook had discarded his captain's coat and ripped open his sash. He held his sword balanced and ready in his good hand. His claw gleamed wickedly.

  Ace and Don't Ask started forward, their own weapons drawn, but Peter motioned them back.

  "Put up your swords, boys," he ordered, and his eyes were grim. "It's Hook or me, this time."

  Crocodile Clock

  James Hook strode down the gangway of the Jolly Roger, sword in hand, his eyes bright and anxious. He grinned wolfishly. "Prepare to die, Peter Pan. It's the only adventure you have left."

  They rushed each other and met in a clash of steel. At first Hook had the upper hand, driving Peter back across the wharf as Jack and Maggie and the Lost Boys scattered before them. Then Peter regained control, growing stronger with each exchange. Hook reversed field, drawing Peter after him into the tunnel.

  "I remember you being a lot bigger," Peter offered, parrying a wicked slash to his head.

  Hook grunted. "To a ten-year-old, I'm huge."

  Peter grinned. "Good form, James."

  "Don't patronize me, Peter."

  They fought their way through the tunnel's darkness and out the other side. Pirates and Lost Boys ran to get out of their way, then followed in their wake like flood waters churning down a dry riverbed. They battled toward a pub entrance, where Peter snatched a tablecloth off a clothesline and taunted Hook as a matador might an enraged bull-

  To one side, Jack discarded his Hook vest. Hook sneered.

  "Rippingly good comeback, Peter," he offered between thrusts at the tablecloth. "Three days! Imagine. Share your secret with old Hook? Diet? Exercise? A woman? The right woman can do wonders for a man, restore his youth in moments."