Will cupped his hand around his mouth. ‘Ship ahoy!’ He pointed to the dark speck moving slowly but steadily towards them.
In a blink the Captain was on the fo’c’sle with his telescope to his eye. He shouted an order to the First Mate and soon there were pirates dashing about the deck, squawking like a flock of seagulls following fish.
Will began the climb down. He was more than halfway when the First Mate yelled up at him.
‘Stop. You’re to go back up. Cap’n says it’s the Bonny Lasses, a bunch of pirates as greedy an’ cunning as they’re good lookin’. If they get aboard, they’ll sack the ship. You’ll be useless down ’ere, a skinny runt like yerself. Here, I’ll throw ye a sword. Shimmy back up the ropes an’ see if ye can’t swing along them rat-lines and fend off any rosy-cheeked women swingin’ onto our riggin’.’
‘Aye, the Captain’s mighty impressed by yer aerial abilities,’ Dogfish called up to Will. ‘An’ yer stayin’ power. “For once we’re prepared for these vixens,” ’e said. “We’ll shoot ’em out of the water before they reach us.”’
‘Cut yer blathering, Dogfish,’ said the First Mate. ‘Can’t ye see there’s work to be done? You’re all blitherin’ layabouts! Wait till the Captain catches you jawin’ on.’
‘Man the cannons!’ came the order from the Captain. ‘Every swab on deck!’
Will caught the sword the First Mate hurled up to him. He hoped to heaven he wouldn’t have to use it.
As he hooked the sheath over his belt buckle, he wondered why his life just seemed intent on getting worse. He wished for the hundredth time he could wake up from this nightmare.
By the time he was wedged in the crow’s nest again, the gunner had fired the first cannon. It exploded in the sea, right in the path of the Bonny Lasses, showering sparks over their bowsprit. Will heard a cheer go up as the crew watched the enemy ship pull away and steer off-course.
He took out his telescope and spotted a nimble figure swinging along the enemy ropes. She had a red bandanna around her head and a flash of blue feathers – a bird – on her shoulder. He couldn’t see her face but there was something familiar about the firm and steady way she darted along the rigging. She was joined by another who handed her a bucket. It weighed her down and she nearly lost her grip on the ropes. The sparks across their bow had caught, licking now at the edge of the Lasses’ foresail. He saw the first woman hurl the bucket full of water at the flames.
He narrowed his eyes to slits, peering at her. No, he decided now, it had been a trick of the mind. Wishful thinking. That sword at her side and the bandanna on her head were pirate trappings; his mother would have none of that. The Lasses were flying about the deck now, dousing fires wherever they began. And the ship was turning, on course again …
‘Fire the second cannon!’ cried Will. ‘Enemy ship approaching!’
But the men were so busy applauding themselves and their lucky shot that they didn’t hear.
The pirate called Goose was twirling his sword above his head until he fell over a cable and nearly speared himself. Squid found a bottle of rum. Another pirate was trying to grab it from him and a fierce fight broke out. Goose tried to stop it and accidentally threw Buzzard against the tiller, which splintered and broke loose.
The ship shuddered.
Will waved from the basket and yelled down to them. But no one was listening.
And now the Bonny Lasses were gliding grimly towards them with their black sails billowing in the wind. He could see the snarling mermaid bearing down upon them.
‘HELP!’ he cried for the last time. ‘DO something!’
He glimpsed the Captain tearing up from the deck below, glancing up at Will and out to sea. It was too late for the cannons. The enemy ship was almost on top of them.
The Captain strode to the rails and took out a small gunmetal object from a box under his arm. Taking aim, he hurled the thing and Will saw it make a sweeping arc across the sea, landing on the Bonny Lasses’ main deck.
A little ball of fire exploded, igniting the mainsail. The Captain threw another exploding object and soon fires were spreading all along the deck until the ship looked more like an island-forest aflame than a ship on the Cannonball Sea.
There was a terrible scrambling now on board. The Bonny Lasses threw water and curses, reefing sails and stamping out fires with rags of carpet, hammocks, their feet, anything that would smother the flames.
The Captain stood gazing at the Bonny Lasses, his body as still as a figurehead on a bow, his arms crossed and his back to the crew. Only Will, making his way down the rigging, could see the clenched fury written upon his face.
The pirates were dancing a hornpipe and slapping each other on the back as they watched the enemy ship turn about and head for the horizon, sails smoking.
But a hush slowly settled as the Captain advanced among the crew. His eyes were as dark as a storm.
‘Enlighten me, please,’ he said. ‘What is it you men are cheering?’
‘The Bonny Lasses ’ave retreated, sir,’ the First Mate said. ‘The lads were just, like, celebratin’ the fact.’
‘Celebrating? Is that so?’
No one said a word.
‘I see. Are they celebrating the fact they were nearly run down and raided?’ the Captain enquired, his voice held back like a gathering gale.
Silence.
‘Are they celebrating the fact that no one followed up after the first cannon?’
The quiet deepened.
‘Are they elated that due to their stupidity it was necessary for their captain to waste two of his precious new grenades to stop ’em?’
And then the storm broke.
‘NEVER IN ALL MY BORN DAYS HAVE I SEEN SUCH LAZY, BONE-HEADED, FECKLESS LAGGARDS! YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A PACK OF DAWDLING DUNDERHEADS!’
‘But sir, our aim was true—’ began the First Mate.
‘NITWIT! If I were you I’d say nothing and keep my head down. I’ve a mind to strip you of your rank, you great goon. Now, you are all to set about your work without break until sun-up tomorrow. I want the tiller mended, gunpowder and shot checked, main topmast repaired, empty food barrels broken up and wood stored. You, Buzzard, will build a new wheel if needs be and Goose, patch the jib and the mainsail. See it’s done by first light.’
A moan from the crew caused the Captain’s eyes to narrow further. ‘And we will not stop at Bell Island tomorrow to collect supplies as planned. We will keep sailing through the Cannonball Seas, past Devil Island and the Mainland. We may not dock at port for many months, not until I see you’ve learned your lesson. Do you all realise, we could have been taken, lock stock and barrel!’
‘There’s nothing ’ere to take,’ murmured Buzzard under his breath.
‘If I don’t see that new wheel by sunrise,’ the Captain swung around to face Buzzard, ‘you will walk the plank at dawn tomorrow. How do you mewling infants think we’ll ever find treasure if you can’t learn to behave as pirates? Pathetic excuses for men, the lot of you!’
The pirates were as quiet as mice.
‘B … but what’ll we eat?’ a boy asked in a quavery voice.
‘Only one boy will eat tonight. This young ’un here, still wet behind the ears,’ the Captain pointed at Will. ‘He’s barely weaned but he saved your worthless lives. If you’d been paying attention, we’d be counting the Lasses’ treasure now, feasting on their spoils, swilling their rum. Ah, it doesn’t bear thinking about. You men, you’re not worth the piece of deck you’re slouching on!’
And with that he went below.
The pirates slumped.
‘Blimey, I’m hungry already,’ muttered one boy.
‘We all are,’ said another, sliding down on the deck, leaning his back against the side.
‘Best not to tire ourselves out, like,’ Dogfish said, taking off his shirt and putting it under his head as a cushion. ‘The more work we do, the hungrier we’ll be.’
Will looked around him in amazement as pirates and
boys dropped where they stood, some leaning back to back, using each other as supports.
The First Mate just gazed out to sea, sighing gloomily.
‘B … but,’ said Will. ‘But … shouldn’t we be starting those jobs the Captain ordered? I mean, if we get them done, maybe he’ll let us stop for supplies. Remember he said—’
‘Ooh, listen up, men,’ hooted Squid, ‘the Captain’s pet what saved all our lives is talkin’. He’s so special, ye better stand to attention while the lad’s talkin’ or he’ll cast a spell on yer.’
‘Well, if he’s magic, he’s not sharin’ it with the likes of us,’ a pirate with one leg sneered. ‘I could do with another one of these pegs, an’ all. Maybe he can tell that shark to give it back.’
‘I don’t know who ever said anything about magic,’ Will protested. ‘But if you all showed the Captain how much work you were prepared to—’
‘What do you know, ye little pipsqueak?’ said Squid. ‘Even if we do everyfink right, we never get to see one drop of treasure, we never get one bite of reward. So what’s the bloomin’ point?’
‘Aye,’ said Buzzard. ‘How can a body be enthusiastic when he never sees the fruits of his honest labour?’
‘But Buzzard, sir, you’ll walk the plank if you don’t fix that wheel. The Captain needs a carpenter. We all need to have a skill, because a skill keeps folk safe, otherwise they’ll be left behind for the pir—’
‘Oh, will you listen to this little whelp givin’ us the benefit of his worldly advice! Yer think ye know everyfink at nine years old?’
‘Ten, actually,’ whispered Will. ‘Today is my birthday.’
‘Well happy bloomin’ birthday. We were all ten once too.’
‘An’ we could ’ave had skills as well. Only most of us didn’t ’ave time to find out what they were, like,’ said Goose.
‘Aye, an’ I had me fear of the water,’ said the pirate with one leg.
‘An’ I got me disappointment,’ said Dogfish. ‘Where’s the rum?’ asked Squid.
‘An’ you got a drinkin’ problem,’ said the First Mate.
‘I wouldn’t have one if ye just told me where you stashed that last bottle.’
‘I told you I gave it to the Captain to keep him sweet. Fat lot of good that did, but. The man’s a bottomless hole. Only gets meaner on the grog. Anyways, swabs, we better get to work or starvin’ to death will be the least of our problems.’ The First Mate eyeballed Will. ‘Bon appetit,’ he spat.
Will stared at him.
‘What, ye don’t know French? Ye never fought a Frenchie or felt his sword at yer gullet? Well, it means enjoy yer meal, ye little traitor.’
‘Steady on,’ sighed Dogfish, ‘that’s a strong word for young Wicked here.’
‘Aye, well, he better start livin’ up to that name of his.’ The First Mate glared at Will. ‘This here situation is your fault, yer little try-hard. Showin’ us up with yer evil enthusiasm. Ye better put a lid on it, or ye won’t last long on this ship.’
‘I might start givin’ ’im a few fatherly lessons like,’ said Squid, rubbing his callused hands together. ‘Soon as you wanna give the order, sir.’
Will had lost his ‘appetit’. He wished he could lose his fear, too, and the memory of the First Mate’s ugly words.
As he watched the last of the straggling boys trail off to their jobs at the rigging, he wondered if they, too, had lost their appetites. He wondered if they could possibly be as mean and unfeeling as the pirates. Dogfish didn’t seem as bad as the rest. But down in the berth at night no one talked, and never was there a whisper of homesickness or a shared look between them.
Maybe, if Will offered to help with the rigging, there might be one boy among them who could be a friend.
He tried to stop biting his cheek. There was a raw patch now that stung each time his tongue found it. He took a step towards the boys at the mainmast. The offer to help was all ready in his mouth but they gave him such looks of disgust that the words withered before he could get them out.
As he hurried away, he hoped the Captain would forget about his meal. He hoped the man would never notice him again or mention any special skills he had. He almost hoped, standing there, that the sea would rise up and take him so he’d never, ever have another birthday.
And then he wouldn’t have to feel anything anymore, just as the First Mate had advised.
Chapter 10
The sea stayed where it was and the month of Will’s birthday wore on, a heartless sun shining down upon them each day. Then the Captain finally gave the order to drop anchor off Devil Island, and the pirates rowed the long-boat to shore. Waiting on board, the boys heard the islanders’ distant shouts as the men raided and plundered the village, returning scratched and bitten but laden with great sides of ham and pickled trout, loaves of bread, sacks of flour and rice, spices and rum and a fresh young crew.
That evening, when the new boys were shown their sleeping quarters and left to nurse their wounds, Will lay in his hammock and listened to the dark. He heard crying, the kind that is quickly stifled. There was a lot of lonely nose blowing too and whispered curses, but the bold words lost their shape in the awful quiet until they trickled into sobs.
He stood up and crept over to a huddle of new boys. He remembered his own dread that first night and his sadness, fresh again, worked its way up into his throat. But before he could say anything, Heartless from the hammock next to him elbowed his way in.
‘Stop whimperin’, you lot, you’re keepin’ us awake. You all better toughen up – we don’t stand for cowardly little milksops here. You oughta take a leaf out of our Wicked’s book, he’s Captain’s pet.’ Heartless grinned, slapping him hard on the back as if it were all a huge joke. ‘Wicked doesn’t say boo but he climbs the riggin’ like a monkey, an’ makes us all look like fools.’
Will said quietly to the boys, ‘There’s ways of overcoming sea sickness and hanging onto the ropes in the wind.’
‘Oh aye, Wicked the Know-all,’ said Heartless. ‘Makes you wanna puke, just listening to him.’
But in the early morning, when the light had barely stolen down into the berth and the boys were still in the clutches of dreams, Will whispered to the boy next to him. ‘The trick to climbing high is to locate your centre of gravity,’ he began, ‘just above your belt buckle …’
‘Ah go shove your face down a shark’s gullet,’ said the boy from Devil Island, ‘and let me get some shut-eye.’
But Will kept trying. When they ate dinner at night in the mess, he noticed that many of the new ones just sat in silence – little planets of misery, chewing and swallowing on their own. He sat down next to Scab, a boy with a nervous tic that made him wink continuously as if he knew something everyone else didn’t.
‘How long have you had that wink?’ asked Will. ‘See, I’ve been here a while, and now I bite my cheek. I might know a way to get rid of it if you—’
‘Yeah, gettin’ off this ship,’ said the boy. ‘Do you know how to do that?’
‘No,’ said Will, watching him. The boy rubbed and rubbed at his eye, as if he wanted to rub it out. ‘Probably the more you think about it, the more it winks. If you try to think of other things …’
‘Like what? Like how to escape? Fat chance.’
‘No, because that’s too hard right now. I could tell you about some other things to take your mind off it, like … like …’
Will thought of Treasure and the way she had talked to him that first time he’d followed her up the hill. Her words had been like a lullaby after all the terrifying silence, and now he felt an urge to do the same for poor lonely Scab.
‘Do you know much about hermit crabs? They’re fascinating – for instance, they’re always looking for a bigger house.’
‘Who cares?’
‘Well, you can make really pretty ornaments from seed pods. You know the calabash tree?’
‘No trees at sea. Why don’t you push off and pick yer nose an’ eat it?’
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br /> It was the same with every boy he spoke to. No one from Devil Island knew how to say please or thank you, or offer a kind word. And no one wanted the comfort of a friend.
These boys weren’t so much older than Will. But they seemed like a different species, like plants or cuttlefish or sharks even, for all that they had in common with him. It was the loneliest thing in the world.
After a while Will noticed that up in the crow’s nest, where there was just him and his thoughts, he felt less lonely. And he could talk to his mother.
‘Such strange folk there are in the world,’ he confided. ‘How can I be so different? Don’t they want what I want? A bit of conversation, a friendly word …’
Of course they do, said his mother. It’s just that they’ve forgotten how. Don’t you do that, my boy. Remember our games? Remember our limbo dancing in the moonlight? Remember your funambulism in the mangroves? Just keep an eye on your balance and one foot in the front of the other, and you’ll be all right.
Sometimes, when he was up in the crow’s nest, he found himself talking to Treasure, too. He told her about the habits and lifestyle of the pirates, how a conversation on board never went anywhere that wasn’t planned, or didn’t have a purpose. Words were either an order or an insult. How fascinating! she said. When I see you again I’m going to write down everything you tell me.
His eyes filled then and he couldn’t see the horizon. So he tried not to imagine that part too often. But he could hear the lilt in her voice and the little breath she took before she said fascinating, and often it was this that got him to sleep at night.
In the weeks after a raid, the crew ate food with no weevils or fungus growing in it. Yet in all their plundering, the pirates had never come across any man or boy who’d known how to cook.
‘It’s a damn shame,’ Dogfish said when Will asked him about it. ‘But seein’ as the captain shows no interest in food, no one’s bothered learnin’ how to cook it. We’d only get into trouble.’ Dogfish’s eyelids drooped as he contemplated the Captain’s lack of appetite. ‘The man doesn’t seem human sometimes,’ he muttered.
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