The player twitched on the ship’s deck and the screen glowed. Rays of light shot out of the screen, then spread out into the hologram of a man. He wore a tight-fitting white T-shirt and shorts like a soccer referee. A whistle dangled around his neck. He turned to Frankie, and his image flickered.
“Greetings!” he said. “Welcome to the fantasy league. What is your team’s name?”
“What?” said Frankie. He thought the man looked familiar.
The referee checked his watch. “No time for warming up. You have been selected to play in the fantasy league. Team name, please.”
“Frankie’s FC!” said Louise. “Like the professional teams. Soccer is called ‘football’ in some other countries. The really famous teams are called ‘football clubs.’ FC, get it?”
“Hang on….” said Frankie.
“Your ball, your team,” said Charlie.
“So be it,” said the Ref. Frankie felt a slight buzzing on his chest. When he looked down, an emblem had appeared there, with “FFC” written in an upside-down triangle.
“Cool!” he muttered.
“Frankie’s FC,” said the Ref. “Your first match is against the Pirate Pillagers.”
“Pirates?” said Frankie. So that’s what the skull and crossbones meant.
“Right ye are, me hearties,” said a voice.
Frankie and his friends spun around. A man wearing a tattered red jacket stood before them. In place of one of his legs was a wooden peg. His straggly brown hair looked like it needed a lot of shampooing, and he had a thick patch of stubble on his chin. At his side, he wore a cutlass.
“Who are you?” asked Louise.
The pirate limped forward, his wooden leg knocking on the deck. Frankie noticed that the buttons on his jacket were the shape of miniature soccer balls. “I be Captain Cropper, owner of this vessel, The Jolly Striker, and I think ye stowaways have come to steal my treasure.”
“Actually, we just came to get our ball back,” said Charlie.
The captain scowled. “Yer ball, ye say! Well, what about that, Rolf?”
The deck creaked as a huge man emerged wearing an open leather shirt. He must have been seven feet tall, with tattoos covering his barrel chest, and a hook for a hand. In his other hand, he gripped the magic soccer ball. “Looking for this, are ye?”
Frankie gulped and nodded.
A flash of color caught his eye as a parrot with red-and-yellow wings and a blue breast landed on the ship’s wheel. It opened its beak and squawked, “This’ll be easy! They’re just kids.”
“Did that bird just talk?” said Charlie.
“What’s so weird about that?” said a gruff voice at Frankie’s feet.
He looked down and saw Max staring at him.
“Did you just …”
“Sure did,” said Max.
Frankie was still staring at his pet dog when a figure came swinging down on a rope. It was a girl, maybe a year older than them, with bright red hair and baggy turquoise pants. She landed lightly on the deck and bowed low to Frankie. “Scarlet’s the name, and this ’ere parrot is Tito.”
Captain Cropper sneered, revealing a couple of gold teeth. “So, landlubbers! Ready to face the finest team on the seven seas?”
Louise laughed, then tried to cover it with her hand.
“Something funny, missy?” asked the captain.
“I just didn’t know pirates played soccer,” Louise replied.
Rolf growled and chucked the ball into the air. Tito the parrot swooped down and knocked it with his beak to Scarlet. She flipped onto her hands, caught the ball between her feet, and tossed it to Captain Cropper. He bounced the ball on one foot three times, then pinned it against the deck with his wooden leg.
“Yer in for a surprise, missy,” he said.
“What’s the prize?” asked Charlie. “And don’t say buried treasure!”
The hologram of the Ref flickered above Louise’s console. “The winners will get to play again.”
“And the losers?” gulped Frankie.
Rolf extended his hooked hand over the side of the ship. “The losers end up there — until they build a raft or the crabs eat ’em!”
Frankie squinted and saw a low, flat island, dotted with palm trees and not much else. It’s my fault we’re here, he thought. There’s no way I’m letting my friends get marooned on a desert island!
“May the best dog win!” said Max, scampering back and forth.
Frankie swelled his chest and stepped up to face Captain Cropper. He held out his hand. “Let’s start the game!”
Captain Cropper snarled down at the hand.
“Where is the goal?” asked Charlie. “Should we use the masts?”
The Ref shook his head. “Each game in the league has different rules.”
Scarlet drew her cutlass and pointed to a tiny basket on top of the main mast. “The winner is the first to score three goals in the crow’s nest.”
“That’s not how we play back home,” said Louise.
“Not our problem,” said Captain Cropper, throwing the ball onto the center of the deck. As soon as it stopped, a cannon blasted from the side of the ship, making Frankie’s ears ring.
“Ready?” said the Ref. He brought his whistle to his lips and blew.
Captain Cropper pounced toward the ball, and Frankie dashed in, too. He slid across the deck and reached the ball first, sending it between his opponent’s legs. Frankie scooped the ball onto his foot and sent it curling into the crow’s nest.
“Barnacles!” muttered the Captain.
“One–nothing, Frankie’s team!” shouted Charlie.
“Beginner’s luck!” squawked Tito.
The game restarted with another boom from the cannon, and again Frankie closed in on the ball first. He barely heard Louise call “Look out!” before Rolf plowed into him. Frankie went tumbling across the deck like a bowling pin.
“That’s a foul!” said Louise. “Ref?”
But the Ref seemed to have disappeared.
Rolf grinned at Frankie. “Nothing wrong with a little shoulder shove.”
Max ran at the huge pirate, but just bounced off his leg.
We might as well try to tackle an oak tree! thought Frankie.
Rolf kicked the ball to Scarlet. With a swish of her leg, she chipped the ball into the crow’s nest.
“One goal apiece!” said Scarlet.
“What are we going to do?” Charlie said.
Max’s ears pricked up. “We need to stop chasing our tails.”
Charlie rubbed his forehead with a gloved hand. “I can’t believe I’m taking advice from a dog.”
As the cannon sounded, Frankie sprinted toward the ball. Rolf charged in again, but Frankie stalled, then stepped nimbly past him. Captain Cropper was closing in, so Frankie passed the ball to Louise. As she steadied herself to shoot, Scarlet came swinging down on a rope. Louise looked up, and bounced the ball off the bottom of a mast. It rolled to Max’s feet.
“Shoot!” yelled Charlie.
“Knock it in!” called Louise.
Max took a few steps back, spun on the spot, and kicked the ball with his hind legs. It bounced off a barrel and flew up toward the crow’s nest. He wagged his stubby tail in triumph.
It’s going in…. thought Frankie. He did it!
Just as the ball hovered over the goal, Tito flapped into view and batted it with his wing.
The ball spun over the edge of the ship and landed with a splash.
“Drats and cats!” barked Max.
Everyone ran to the deck rail.
“Our throw-in,” said Louise.
Frankie saw the water churning with dozens of triangular fins. “Sharks!” he shouted. One of the deadly creatures broke the surface of the water.
“If they eat the ball, we can’t get home!” said Charlie.
But instead of swallowing the ball, the shark nosed it out of the water. Another one batted it into the air. A third thumped the ball with its tail.
> “I guess sharks like soccer, too!” said Frankie.
“Either that, or they don’t like the taste of leather,” said Charlie.
After passing it back and forth among themselves, one of the sharks flicked the ball back toward the deck, over their heads. It stopped in midair, right on Rolf’s hooked hand.
“Handball!” yelled Frankie.
“It’s not my hand,” Rolf sneered. Drawing back his arm, he tossed the ball into the crow’s nest. “Two–one to the Pillagers!”
Frankie’s team gathered around him. “They’re better than they look,” he said.
“I feel seasick,” said Charlie.
“They’re nothing but cheaters, with all those fouls!” said Louise. “Where is the Ref?”
Frankie glanced around. The Ref was lying in a hammock strung from the mast. He seemed to be asleep. “I don’t think we’ll get much help from him,” Frankie said. Behind the hammock, the island looked closer than before, but no more inviting. How long could they last there without food or water?
“Maybe if we had a better goalie, we wouldn’t be losing,” muttered Max.
“There aren’t even any goalposts!” said Charlie.
“Enough!” said Frankie. He hated seeing his teammates arguing with one another. “We’re going to lose unless we play as a team.”
“Frankie’s right,” said Louise. “I don’t plan to lose to a bunch of smelly pirates.”
“Maybe we need to cheat, too,” said Max. “I could always give one of them a little bite on the ankle — slow them down a little.”
“No!” said Frankie.
“I’m just saying,” said Max, “it might even things up.”
“We’re not going to stoop to their level,” said Frankie. “We play fair.”
He peered over his shoulder. Captain Cropper had his foot up on the deck rail, doing stretches. He flashed Frankie a wide grin. Rolf was showing Scarlet the tattoos on his bulging arms, while Tito stabbed at what looked like a cracker with his beak.
I bet they’ve never lost before, thought Frankie. That’s their weakness. They’re overconfident.
“Look, team,” he said. “Remember what Mr. Donald says when we play away from home?”
“Take off those gloves when you’re on the bus?” said Charlie.
No one laughed except for Max, who gave a doggy chuckle.
“Not that,” said Frankie. “He says, ‘The field might look different, but the game’s the same.’”
“This field looks very different,” said Louise. “How can we even score? They’ve got a flying goalie!”
“I might not be able to fly,” said Charlie, “but I’m not useless!”
Frankie huddled closer, and patted his pocket. “We need to distract Tito,” he said. “And I’ve got just the thing.” The others listened closely as he explained.
“It’s worth a try,” said Louise.
“Get a move on!” bellowed Captain Cropper. “I’ve seen sea slugs move quicker than you lot!”
They turned to face the Pillagers.
Rolf, Tito, and Scarlet were lined up behind their captain. Captain Cropper hooked his thumbs in his belt. “About time,” he said. “Decided which one ye’ll eat first on the island?” He pointed to Frankie’s dog. “That fella looks tasty.”
“Don’t count your treasure before it’s dug up,” growled Max.
The cannon fired and a gust of wind sent the smoke drifting back across the deck. Frankie coughed and wiped his stinging eyes, then ran at the ball. He saw the shape of Rolf closing in, so he slid the ball to Louise. She looked up to the crow’s nest, as if she was going to shoot. Tito shot up from the deck and hovered, ready to stop the shot.
Frankie fished one of Max’s dog biscuits out of his pocket and hurled it into the air. The parrot twisted midflight and swooped toward the dog treat.
“Now!” said Frankie.
As Tito snapped up the treat, Louise chipped the ball into the crow’s nest.
“Two each!” Max barked.
The Ref suddenly sat up. “What … where … oh. Two goals a piece, is it? Then the next goal wins it.” He shut his eyes again and began to snore.
“Oops!” said Tito, landing on the rigging.
Captain Cropper stamped his wooden leg on the deck in anger. “Birdbrain!” he growled. “I’ll pluck all of your feathers out if you fall for that again.”
“You said this would be easy,” said Scarlet.
The captain narrowed his eyes and a smile spread across his lips. “Time for a change of course,” he said.
Scarlet snickered and Rolf grinned, showing his black, rotting teeth.
Scarlet grabbed a rope as the captain crept closer to the mast. Rolf stamped toward the ship’s wheel. What are they planning? Frankie wondered.
He looked across to his teammates. “Be ready,” he said. “They’re up to something.”
Louise nodded and her eyes darted across the ship suspiciously.
“Where did Charlie go?” snapped Max.
Frankie shrugged. He couldn’t see Charlie anywhere.
The cannon went off. For some reason, Captain Cropper didn’t even move from the mast. He simply raised his hand. Frankie ran for the ball. He was almost there when Captain Cropper lowered his arm and gripped the mast. Rolf swung the wheel around violently and the ship lurched in the water. Frankie lost his balance and tripped. He saw Louise and Max go sprawling, too.
As he regained his footing, Frankie saw Captain Cropper casually line up the ball. He gave Frankie a sly wink. “Bad luck, kiddies,” he said, and kicked the ball perfectly.
Frankie stared in horror as it arced up toward the crow’s nest.
It’s all over….
Frankie saw a shadow behind the sail, near the top of the mast. It was too big to be Tito.
Then a gloved hand reached out and batted the ball away.
“Go, Charlie!” yelled Louise.
Charlie waved, then lost his grip. He slid down the mast like it was a fireman’s pole.
The ball landed on the deck and rolled to Max’s feet.
“Tackle that mutt!” bellowed Captain Cropper.
Rolf thundered across the deck like a charging bull. The timbers shook under Frankie’s feet.
“Shoot!” called Louise.
But Max looked terrified, frozen to the spot as Rolf bore down on him.
He’s going to get squashed flat! thought Frankie.
Just as Rolf was about to crash into him, Max scampered to the side. The massive pirate flew into a barrel and toppled over the top. Max rolled the ball to Louise, but not hard enough. Scarlet and Louise reached it at the same time, and the ball went spinning through the air. It landed right beside Captain Cropper. Frankie was already running. He tipped the ball between the captain’s legs, then took aim at the crow’s nest.
I’ll only get one chance, he thought. Better not waste it.
“Look out!” called Louise.
Frankie glanced up. Rolf was running at him, an enormous barrel raised over his head. His eyes were wild with rage and the deck creaked and groaned under him.
Uh-oh, thought Frankie. I can score, but I’ll get flattened!
He looked left and right, then saw his chance. He fired the ball hard at a pulley coiled with rope. With a clunk, the rope began to unwrap and one of the large sails fell. Rolf was almost on him when the sail dropped over his head.
Frankie heard an “uh,” then a mighty crash as the pirate tripped and hit the deck. The sail thrashed as Rolf yelled and writhed beneath it.
“Tito!” bellowed Captain Cropper. “Stop the ball!”
The parrot ruffled his feathers. “You called me a birdbrain,” he said sulkily.
Frankie imagined he was back at the carnival with nothing more than fifty cents at stake.
He lifted his foot and swung. The wind caught the ball and it wobbled for a moment at the top of its arc. Scarlet tried to swing on a rope to stop it, but Max gripped the other end of it in his teeth.
The ball rolled around the edge of the crow’s nest, then fell in.
“SUPERGOOAAALL!”
Captain Cropper groaned and slumped to the deck.
Frankie’s teammates piled on top of him, cheering.
“We won!” said Louise.
“Three–two!” said Charlie.
“I never doubted us!” Max yapped.
A loud whistle cut through the air.
As Frankie pulled himself free, he saw the Ref standing over the ball.
“Frankie’s FC are the victors,” he said. “I haven’t seen a kick that good in years.”
His words made Frankie pause. “I knew you looked familiar,” he said. “You’re the man from the carnival!”
The Ref winked. “I’ve been looking for a new team,” he said. “Looks like I found one.”
With a grinding sound, the ship suddenly shook from deep within, and leaned to one side. Frankie only just managed to keep his balance.
Rolf peered out from beneath the tangled sail. “We’ve run aground!” he said.
“You’re marooned!” said the Ref. “Just as you requested.”
“But — but —” stammered Captain Cropper.
“Don’t be sore losers,” said Louise. “Now, how do we get home?”
The Ref pointed across the deck, where a board hung out over the water. “Time to abandon ship,” he said.
“You mean walk the plank?” said Frankie. He peered over the side. The water looked to be a long way down. And what about the sharks?
“Trust me,” said the Ref.
“We don’t have much of a choice,” said Frankie.
He edged along the plank with Louise, Charlie, and Max behind him. When they were all standing side by side, he grinned at them. “Ready?”
“Yup!” said Louise.
“Maybe,” said Charlie.
“No,” said Max. “I hate baths, remember?”
“Until next time!” said the Ref.
Frankie leapt off the plank and felt gravity pull him down. He waited for the splash….
Instead, he found himself sliding across grass on his knees.
“… GOOOAAALL!”
Frankie vs. the Pirate Pillagers Page 2
