“I guess you must know everything there is to know about life at court,” said Millie. “I know how to dance. I can waltz. You got to count one-two-three, one-two-three, just like this.” She jumped up and did a few steps for Oscar’s benefit. “I know how to hold a fork, and use a napkin the right way. And I know how to curtsey. I’ve practiced.”
But just as she dipped down, Captain Mack strode over, looking peeved. “None of your airs now, Missy,” she said. “Go and give Jarvis a break at the tiller.
“Givin’ you her nonsense about wantin’ to be a lady, I’ll wager,” said Captain Mack when Millie was gone. “It’s all I can do to knock it out of her — train her to run the ship proper.”
“It’s a beautiful ship,” said Oscar.
“Bought the Rosalie six years ago,” said the captain, warming to what was clearly a favorite topic. “And a good, solid ship she is. Not so fast as the three-mast ships that can make the trip to Cat’n’berd Island in two days. But more sail power’s costly, so I do the best I can. In a good wind like this, we should make it to Cat’n’berd Island by dawn tomorrow.”
The Rosalie had left its home port, a place called Pig’s Head Island (because it was shaped like a pig’s head, Lucy was told when she asked) only three days before. “Give us a day at Cat’n’berd Island to unload and collect our money, and we can be home in a week, weather permittin’,” said Captain Mack. “This time of year, I can take nine, maybe even ten loads of seed. Got to be quick, though, or all the business gets taken by the three-mast ships.”
“The birdseed’s for the Queen’s birds, isn’t it?” Lucy said.
“Well, sure!” Captain Mack looked surprised that Lucy would need to ask.
But Lucy was thinking of her father. “And do you deliver it directly to the Queen?”
“Not likely! I drop off my cargo at port, take my money, and go. What use have I for her silly goin’s on?”
“Is she silly?” Lucy was watching Oscar amble toward the stern. Millie’s face brightened when she saw him coming.
“All this bird business!” said the captain. “Mind you, I’m not complainin’ or anythin’ — birds are my livelihood, after all. The quarrel between those two has been plenty good for some of us. But it ain’t been good for everyone, that much I’ll say. And there’s many who would agree with me — if cats that used to be people could express their opinion. No, indeed! That island’s a sorry place what with her in charge.”
“In charge! What about the King? Isn’t he in charge?”
“Oh, he’s a fool!”
“Doesn’t he change everyone into cats?”
“Ha! You can’t call that bein’ in charge. That’s just spite.” Captain Mack squinted at the sky for a moment, checking the sun’s position. She waved her hand at Millie, who was showing Oscar how the tiller worked. “A hair to the north, girl!” she called. “Check the compass or we’ll end up sailin’ off the edge of the world.”
“Yes, Auntie!”
“Why doesn’t he change the Queen into a cat?” Lucy asked. “Has she got magical powers?”
“Not a speck of ’em.”
“Well then, why couldn’t he change her into a cat?”
“Well, I suppose he could,” said Captain Mack. “But that’s not the same as sayin’ he would. Got him wrapped around her finger, that one has. Even if they ain’t on speakin’ terms.”
“Will they ever make up?”
“Not likely! She likes birds. He likes cats,” said the captain. “What folks say is, the Queen doesn’t just like birds. She loves ’em. They say her palace is one of the seven wonders of the world. Some rooms all red and green and gold — filled up with parrots. Others all rainbow-like, filled up with little finches. Swans and seagulls and such — all displayed as if they was in a museum. Must be somethin’ to see.
“But wouldn’t you know, millions of birds ain’t enough for her!” added Captain Mack. “Just last week, I heard a captain of a ship out of Bramble Island sayin’ he’d found a big black bird. Sold it to the Queen for thirty silver coins.” The captain snorted. “Thirty silvers for an old crow!”
“Are there lots of crows around here?” Lucy asked eagerly.
“Nah! I ain’t seen one for ten years!”
Lucy gripped the rail of the ship.
After the midday meal of hard biscuits, dried beef, and sour oranges, Captain Mack disappeared into the cabin at the stern. Millie told Oscar and Lucy that her aunt usually slept during the afternoon so she could be alert for the night watch.
Oscar and Lucy took shelter from the sun in a strip of shadow cast by the main sail. Lucy told him everything she had heard, including the encouraging news about the crow. “Do you think it could have been my father?” she wondered aloud.
“Sure.” Oscar was watching Mavis and Hugh and the other small children jump rope. In the absence of their captain, the members of the crew appeared to do more playing than sailing.
“I’ve got an idea,” Lucy continued. “We can use the potion to make a bird. Then we can use the bird to get into the palace — pretend we want to sell it to the Queen.”
“Sure.”
“You didn’t even hear what I said.”
“I did! It’s a good idea, Lucy.” Oscar looked at her, then back at the children. “I was just thinking about how queer all this is.”
“What?”
“Well, everything. This ship, Captain Mack, the crew. They’re all just part of a story I began. That’s all. But see how complete everything is. The sail there — it’s got a tear near the corner. How did the tear get there? I reckon if you ask Captain Mack she’ll tell you. And the crew — each and every one of them’s a completely different person with a past and a future. There’s Millie — she never stops talking about how bored she is. She wants to go with us when we go to see the Queen. Don’t look at her, for heaven’s sake! She’ll be over here in a second. She’s been making eyes at me all day, worse than Earl’s sister Charlotte.”
Millie was sitting on an overturned barrel peeling potatoes. Every so often her eyes flickered in their direction. Sometimes they did more than flicker and opened wide like two pansies as she smiled coyly at Oscar.
Meanwhile, the jump rope thwapped against the deck, whisking beneath Mavis’s quick feet as she jumped, her brown braids flapping. She was chanting a rhyme Lucy had never heard before:
“The moon is a cookie,
with sugar on its cheeks.
We like to eat it every night
for weeks and weeks and weeks.
We nibble and we nibble,
until it’s all but gone.
And then we beg for more again,
so we can sing this song.
How many cookies can we eat?
One, two, three . . .”
Mavis counted up to thirty before she missed. She stamped her foot and accused Hugh of pulling up on the rope to trip her. They began to argue, and Jarvis, who was dozing in the sun, told them in a bored voice to shut up so a person could get some sleep.
“I never imagined any of this!” said Oscar, his voice quiet with wonder.
Captain Mack came up on deck as the sun began to set. Millie followed behind, lugging a steaming black kettle. Hugh came too, carrying a basket of bread. “Stew’s on!” called the captain.
Everyone ate ravenously, using bread to soak up fish and potato stew from wooden bowls. Then Hugh climbed up proudly to take Jarvis’s place at the tiller so Jarvis could have his supper. “Tell a story, Auntie,” Hugh called down.
“Yes! Yes! A story!” Even Jarvis joined in the cries.
Captain Mack told a story about how long, long ago, the moon got so thirsty it tried to drink up the sea. The earth poured salt into the ocean to stop her. Everyone laughed as Captain Mack demonstrated how the moon spat out the salty water.
“Do you know any stories?” Millie asked Oscar, giving him a dimpled smile.
Lucy glanced at the captain. Every time Millie smiled at Oscar, or gigg
led at him, or moved a little closer, the captain looked annoyed.
Oscar told “Rapunzel.” Lucy wondered whether the children had ever heard it before, because they listened so intently. When it was over, they wanted it again.
“No,” said the captain in a firm voice. The agreeable look she had worn at the beginning of Oscar’s story had vanished. “It’s gettin’ late, and we’ll all need some sleep before mornin’.”
“Oh! Let’s sing songs first,” begged Hugh and Mavis.
The children clamored so loudly that Captain Mack waved her hand. “Go on then,” she said.
So Oscar sang “Billy Boy” for them, his voice clear and strong.
Lucy could tell the captain liked the song. She was tapping her foot and humming along by the third verse. But by the last verse, she looked suspicious. Her eyes kept traveling from Millie’s face to Oscar’s.
“Again! Again!” Millie cried, and the other children chimed in as well.
So Oscar sang the song again, and this time everyone joined in — everyone except the captain. Lucy glanced at Oscar. He seemed unaware that Millie was gazing raptly at him, or that the captain was glowering at him.
“Oh, where have you been, Billy Boy, Billy Boy?
Oh, where have you been, charming Billy?
I have been to seek a wife,
She’s the joy of my life,
Sheeee’s a young thing and cannot leave her mother.
“Did she bid you to come in, Billy Boy, Billy Boy?
Did she bid you to come in, charming Billy?
Yes, she bade me to come in,
There’s a dimple in her chin,
Sheeee’s a young thing and cannot leave her mother.”
“That’s enough there now!” said the captain after the second verse. “Why’s this Billy Boy messin’ about with girls too young to leave their mothers?”
“It’s just a song,” said Oscar.
“Everyone to bed now,” said the captain. “You too, Millie. Your bedtime’s no different than the rest.”
Though Millie looked as if she would die of shame, she joined the line of shuffling children without protest.
“Interestin’ song,” said the captain to Oscar when they were gone. “But no decent young man ought to play up to a young girl like that. Deceitful’s what it is. Same goes for your story! What’s that lad up to, goin’ behind the old woman’s back, crawlin’ up that tower like a spider to steal away the girl?”
“It’s just a story,” said Oscar.
“We’ll see land by dawn tomorrow.” The captain turned abruptly and hoisted herself up the ladder to the stern deck. “Go to bed now, Hugh!” they heard her say.
“Did you ever hear the like?” said Oscar as he and Lucy laid themselves down on some burlap bags near the bow of the ship.
“I think . . .” Lucy was thinking that Captain Mack was a bit like a mother hen protecting her young. But before she could say so, a yawn overtook her.
“What were you going to say?” asked Oscar.
“Nothing,” Lucy murmured sleepily. A mother hen, she thought, smiling to herself. And here she had been afraid Captain Mack was the sort who would make them walk the plank.
Perhaps that was why what happened the next morning came as such a shock.
Lucy awoke to find Oscar shaking her and Jarvis standing over the both of them. “There’s land,” said Jarvis.
Lucy stood up, unsteady on her feet, and looked out over the bow. Straight ahead was a line of rocky cliffs rising above a dense forest and a narrow strip of white sand.
“That’s the island,” said Oscar.
“Hold up here, Jarvis! Jack — help your brother with the anchor.” It was the captain. “You’ll get out here,” she said. “Jarvis’ll row you to shore.”
“Where’s the Queen’s palace?” Lucy asked.
“Queen’s Harbor’s at the other end of the island.” The captain’s voice was gruff, and her face bore the same scowl that had greeted Lucy and Oscar when they had first boarded the ship.
“But we want the harbor — we’ll go the rest of the way with you,” Oscar said.
“Fair is fair,” said Captain Mack in a steady voice. “I said I’d take you to the island, and so I have. This is the island and this is where you’ll get out.”
“But this is the wrong end of the island,” said Oscar.
“We made a bargain. I said I’d take you to the island, and I’ve kept to that bargain.”
“You said you were in a hurry. It’s a waste of time for you to leave us here,” said Oscar.
Captain Mack leaned forward until her face was close to Oscar’s. “Waste of time is right, Billy Boy — or whatever your name is. But I seen the way Millie was lookin’ at you last night. Nothin’ gets by me. You can bet I made her tell me your plans.”
“What plans?” said Oscar.
“You’re lucky I don’t make you swim to shore!” said the captain. She turned and stomped off, slapping the rowboat as she passed it. “Jarvis — Jack! Let’s get this tub lowered.” She disappeared into the cabin at the stern.
“Oscar — what is she talking about?” asked Lucy.
“I don’t know.”
It didn’t take long for the rowboat to bump down the side of the ship. As Jarvis was climbing down into it, Captain Mack reappeared.
“If it’s money you want, we can pay you,” said Oscar.
“What I want is for you to get off my ship.”
“What have we done?”
“Why?”
“Tryin’ to lure away a girl too young to know her own mind — that’s what!” Captain Mack sneered at Oscar. “Ready to follow you to the moon she is — more likely hell before you’re done! Don’t think I ain’t seen you carryin’ on with my Millie — puttin’ ideas in her head.”
“It was Millie who was talking and carrying on!” said Oscar.
“And to think it was I who let you on board! Get off my ship before I push you off!”
Lucy half expected the captain to brandish her knife at any moment. Or perhaps she would produce a plank after all and send them to the sharks. Surely there would be sharks in an adventure story. “Come on!” she said, tugging Oscar by the arm. She threw one leg over the side of the ship, then the other. “Come on!” she called as she slid down the rope.
From above, she heard Millie’s voice, swollen with sobs. “No, Auntie! No!” A second later, Oscar dropped into the boat.
“No, Auntie!” Millie cried again. “It ain’t his fault!”
Jarvis pushed the boat away from the ship and began to row.
“What did you say to Millie?” Lucy asked Oscar.
“Nothing!”
“You must have said something.”
“Mavis found Millie’s things all packed,” said Jarvis with a grin. “And Mavis can’t keep her mouth shut five minutes. It was Mavis that told Auntie.”
“Told what?” said Oscar.
“Millie was all set to run off with you when we got to port.”
“Run off with us!” said Oscar.
Jarvis smirked. “Millie told Mavis all about it. Said you could introduce her to the Queen. Millie’s always fancied being a lady. Auntie don’t take kindly to that. She wants to make Millie captain one day.”
“Oscar, what did you say to Millie?” asked Lucy.
“I told you! She did all the talking. She didn’t like being on the ship. She wanted to run away. She wanted this. She wanted that. She went on and on . . .”
“That’s our Millie. Can’t shut her up,” said Jarvis.
“I just said if she didn’t like it, she should do what she wanted,” said Oscar.
“Great! Just great!” Lucy said. “You told Millie to do what she wanted, and what she wanted was to run away with us!”
“How was I to know?”
“Do you mind wadin’ in to shore?” Jarvis interrupted. “Auntie’ll skin me alive if I don’t get back to the ship right away.”
“But you can’t ju
st leave us here!” Oscar protested.
“Got to.” Jarvis waited as they climbed over the side. The water was up over their knees. “Just follow the shore around, and you’ll come to Queen’s Harbor,” he called as they splashed through the surf. “Wait!” he called again. He held up a cloth bundle and tossed it to Oscar. “Mavis says Millie wants you to have this!”
When they reached the shore, they discovered that the bundle was food. “More biscuits and oranges and dried beef,” said Lucy. “That’s good.”
“It’s hard to feel very grateful.” Oscar looked apprehensively at the dark and tangled forest beyond the beach.
“Which way should we go?” said Lucy. The beach curved away in two directions.
“Let’s follow the ship,” said Oscar.
But the wind was strong, and the ship moved more quickly than they did. Soon it disappeared from sight behind one of the many outcrops of rock that jutted into the sea.
Whenever they rounded one of these outcrops, Lucy grew hopeful, thinking she might see the Queen’s palace. But after being disappointed countless times, she began to find walking tedious. The fact that they were trudging through sand only made it worse. With every step, her feet sank down just far enough to make the next step come out wrong. “I hate walking on sand,” she complained. “And I’m thirsty.”
“There’s a stream up ahead.” Oscar pointed at a bright ribbon of silver lying across the sand. “Only . . .”
“Only what?” called Lucy as she bounded toward the stream.
“Only I think I recognize this place,” said Oscar as he caught up with her.
“It’s too sandy to drink here, isn’t it? But if we follow it up into the jungle, don’t you think we could . . .” Lucy stopped, having just realized what it was that Oscar had said. She followed his gaze along a line of rocks that jutted up from the beach, then curved inland to grow into a high cliff that towered above the jungle. “What do you think?” she asked.
“I think I don’t like it here in the least. I think we ought to be on our way.”
“But surely it can’t hurt to get a drink of water.”
The Book of Story Beginnings Page 12
