One Big Wacky Family

by Jackie French

  ‘I like books!’ cried Cecil desperately. ‘I like reading and writing and things like that. And the only way to get a job reading and writing is to go to school.’

  Harry the Hook scratched his head with his hook. (Harry the Hook had two good hands, but he reckoned that if two hands were useful, then two hands and a hook were even better.)

  ‘Lad’s right,’ he said to Mum. ‘You can’t make the lad into a pirate if he doesn’t want to be one.’

  ‘He’s a reader all right,’ offered Filthy Frederick. He picked a piece of sea monster out of his long, grey beard and chewed it thoughtfully. ‘Some kids are weird that way,’ he added.

  ‘The problem is,’ said Ambrose One Arm, ‘how can a pirate kid go to school?’

  Mum scratched Snap’s horny back with her boot. Snap grinned happily, showing all his crocodile teeth. He loved having his back scratched.

  Then Mum nodded. ‘So be it!’ she declared. ‘Cecil goes to school. But not just any school! No being sent off to study with the monks or sitting with a pimply tutor for Cecil! I want my son to go to the best school in the world! Listen well, you landlubbers!’

  ‘Yes, Captain,’ they chorused.

  ‘We need to find ourselves a wizard!’

  CHAPTER 4

  The Wizard

  The pirate crew had to capture three more slaver ships before they found a wizard.

  The battle on the slaver ship raged around as the wizard stepped up on deck. He wasn’t much of a wizard. His robe looked like Mum’s second-best dressing gown and had gravy stains all down it, and someone had sat on his pointed hat, so now it was a squished and squashed hat instead. But he still had an air about him that wasn’t all last night’s fish dinner, as he trod onto the deck and looked about him.

  ‘Hold!’ he cried, as the swords clashed about him. ‘I am a wizard…’

  ‘Are you now?’ muttered Filthy Frederick, shoving his trousers down and aiming his bum at a fleeing slaver. ‘But you can’t magic iron, and swords are made of iron, so get out of the way before someone cuts you!’

  ‘But I…’ The wizard stopped as the fleeing slaver turned green, then purple, then collapsed from lack of breatheable air.

  Filthy Frederick hauled his pants up again and turned back to the wizard. ‘Captain will see you as soon as she’s got a spare second! So scoot! Climb over the rails onto our ship, where you’ll be out of the way!’ ordered Filthy Frederick.

  The wizard blinked. Then he clambered over to the good ship Mermaid, avoiding the grappling hooks that held the two ships together. He looked around then sat on a pile of rope and watched as Mum leapt up the companionway and poked the slaver captain in the bum with her sword. The captain jumped and turned around, just as Mum cut his belt so his pants fell down and…

  ‘Hi,’ said Cecil.

  The wizard blinked as Cecil climbed out of the pile of rope and sat next to him. ‘What were you doing in there?’ demanded the wizard.

  ‘Keeping out of the way,’ said Cecil frankly. ‘Mum says I get underfoot when there’s a battle on. This is Snap.’

  ‘Snap,’ said Snap.

  The wizard eyed Snap warily. ‘What’s a crocodile doing on board ship?’

  ‘He’s a pet. Didn’t you ever have a pet?’

  ‘I had a toad once,’ volunteered the wizard. ‘He ate the flies in the kitchen.’

  ‘Snap eats things too,’ explained Cecil. ‘Leftover sea monster or chopped-off toes and stuff lying round after the battles. Filthy Frederick said we could just throw the rubbish overboard, but Mum said, “No, that’s polluting.”’

  ‘Snap!’ said Snap. He chewed something thoughtfully.

  ‘What’s he eating now?’ inquired the wizard.

  ‘Best not to ask,’ said Cecil.

  ‘Oh, right,’ agreed the wizard. ‘Your mum’s the pirate captain?’

  Cecil shook his head. ‘She’s a privateer really,’ he corrected. ‘Good Queen Bess gave her permission to capture Spanish slave ships, as long as we share the treasure with her. And with the slaves too, of course.’

  The wizard nodded. ‘I see,’ he said. He watched the battle with interest.

  Ten minutes later, the slavers had walked the plank and Mum was cleaning the blood from her sword. (She hadn’t stabbed anyone. The blood was from the roast sea monster they’d had for lunch. But Mum said a nice bloody sword was a great way to frighten evil captains.)

  ‘Bunch of hairy-bummed baboons,’ she muttered. ‘Those slavers are lower than a whale’s belly! Avast there, matey!’ she yelled to Shark-eyed Pete. ‘Get the slaves up on deck and explain they’re free, will you? I need a tankard of tea.’

  She caught sight of the wizard. ‘Who would this poor cockroach be?’

  ‘He’s a wizard,’ explained Cecil, sliding off the pile of rope. ‘He was being kept prisoner on the slaver ship.’

  Mum eyed the wizard doubtfully. ‘If he’s a wizard, how did they keep him prisoner?’

  ‘It was the iron,’ said the wizard. ‘Magic can’t touch iron. As long as they had me chained, I was helpless. They were planning to sell me as a slave.’

  ‘Bunch of two-toothed toe-jam chewers,’ snorted Mum. She looked the wizard up and down disbelievingly. ‘Well, mayhap you’re a wizard and mayhap you aren’t. But whoever you are, you’re free now.’ She began to stomp down to the galley.

  ‘Hold a while,’ said the wizard quietly. ‘I want to thank thee.’

  ‘No thanks needed,’ said Mum. ‘Just keep thy guard up when slavers are nearby.’

  ‘Please,’ said the wizard. ‘Wizards always pay their debts.’

  Mum sighed. ‘So be it. Let’s say you are a wizard. Then there’s only one thing I want.’

  ‘A bigger ship?’

  Mum snorted. ‘The Mermaid’s the best ship that ever sailed the seven seas!’

  ‘A better crew?’

  ‘There’s no better crew on any boat afloat,’ said Mum loyally.

  She hesitated. ‘No, there’s something I want for my son. My son is more precious to me than any treasure in the world. He’s a fine son. But he likes reading. I’ve got naught against that, of course—some of my best friends can read, and they’re none the worse for it.’

  ‘True,’ said the wizard. ‘I’ve known some fine people who could read, and not all of them in dungeons.’

  ‘Well, you see,’ said Mum, ‘being a reader and all, the lad wants to go to school. And if that’s what he wants, I want him to have it. I want him to go to the best school in the world.’

  The wizard looked at Cecil, then he looked at Mum. Then he nodded. ‘Sail towards the sun for seven days,’ he said. ‘Then turn left at the next star. You’ll sail through a time warp and your son can go to the best school in the world.’

  Mum blinked. ‘What’s a time warp…?’ she began.

  It was too late. A cloud of silver stars shimmered on the deck. The wizard had disappeared.

  Mum blinked. ‘Shiver me timbers! That poor cockroach really was a wizard!’ she exclaimed.

  Ten days later, Cecil was at Bandicoot Flats Central School.

  And three months later, it was almost Parent–Teacher night, and Cecil was wishing he’d never ever heard of school at all.

  CHAPTER 5

  The Problem With School

  Cecil looked out the classroom window. There was the tuck shop with the oval below it, and beyond that was Bandicoot Creek, flowing sluggishly down to the ocean. Down in Bandicoot Cove, Mum, Filthy Frederick and the rest of the crew waited on the good ship Mermaid for him to come home from school, so they could sail back through the time warp and hunt for a slaver ship or two before dinner.

  It was hard just to sit in a classroom all day, after being able to roam around the ship as it sailed the seas. But school was interesting too, and that made up for it. Cecil had learnt a lot in the months he’d been at school.

  He’d learnt that long black boots and a pirate hat weren’t correct school uniform.

  He’d l
earnt to talk like everyone else.

  He’d learnt that even if your teacher gave you too much homework, you couldn’t make them walk the plank.

  He’d learnt that carrying a cutlass, or even a musket or blunderbuss, got you sent to the principal’s office.

  He’d learnt what TV was, and Game Boy, and how to order takeaway pizza.

  He’d learnt about prime numbers and whole centuries of history that hadn’t even happened yet on board the good ship Mermaid.

  He’d learnt that calling himself CJ instead of Cecil was a really good idea.

  He’d learnt that kids at school gave heck to anyone who was a bit different.

  And he’d learnt that the worst thing in the world would be if anyone found out that his mum was a pirate.

  ‘Right,’ said Mr Farthingale, ‘homework tonight is the problem on page thirty-six and the spelling list on

  page fifty-three. And remember, it’s Parent–Teacher night tomorrow! It starts at eight and there’ll be tea and coffee in the library.’

  The bell jangled just as he added, ‘Class dismissed.’

  Cecil shuddered. Parent–Teacher night! He could just imagine what would happen if Mum swaggered into the school hall in her boots and pirate hat and sword!

  Thank goodness he’d thrown away the note so Mum hadn’t seen it! He’d just have to make up some excuse: say she was too busy or had to go out tomorrow night.

  There was no football practice that afternoon. Cecil sauntered out the door, over the netball courts and out the front gate.

  ‘Hey, CJ,’ yelled Shaun from the bus stop. ‘Want to come over this arvo? Jason and I are renting a video.’

  ‘I…er.’ Cecil hesitated. It would be great to go over to someone’s place, just like a normal kid. And he’d never even seen a video. He shook his head regretfully. ‘Sorry, I can’t. I told Mum I’d be straight home.’

  ‘Give her a ring then.’

  Cecil gulped. How did you explain that you lived on a pirate ship with no telephone? ‘Er…the phone’s out of order,’ he said.

  ‘My dad says most of the phones round here don’t work half the time,’ said Shaun cheerfully. ‘See you tomorrow then!’

  ‘Yeah. See you.’

  Cecil walked slowly down the street. Even if Mum hadn’t expected him back on the good ship Mermaid, there was no way he could have gone to Shaun’s place. If you went to someone’s place, then they’d expect to come to your place and…and…

  Cecil shook his head sadly. How could you ask friends home to a pirate ship?

  It was about a twenty-minute walk to the cove where the good ship Mermaid lay at anchor. Cecil walked up the street from the school and through the Bandicoot Flats shopping centre. He was just crossing the road by the pizza shop when a voice hailed him. ‘Ahoy, young fellow-me-lad!’

  Cecil turned. It was Filthy Frederick. He limped over to Cecil, seven pizza boxes in his hands.

  ‘Your mum sent me out for pizza!’ he explained, squashing a slug that had crawled down his trousers, with his wooden leg. ‘I’ll walk home with you.’

  Cecil looked round quickly. But no one from school was watching, and anyway, Filthy Frederick had taken off his pirate hat to come into town. He’d even tied back his long, grey hair in a ponytail and combed the sea monster chunks out of his beard. A few passersby looked sympathetically at his wooden leg and one bare horny foot, or looked around to try to find where the smell was coming from, but most ignored them.

  ‘How was school, lad?’ asked Filthy Frederick, his wooden leg tapping as they walked along the footpath, and his fleas dancing on his collar in the sunshine.

  ‘Okay,’ said Cecil.

  ‘Me and the crew would love to see that school of yours one day,’ said Filthy Frederick wistfully. ‘What were those things you said could talk to anyone right around the world?’

  ‘Computers and the internet,’ gulped Cecil. He

  had a horrible vision of the entire pirate crew turning up at Parent–Teacher night or, even worse, at the school sports.

  ‘Amazing,’ said Filthy Frederick, shaking his head.

  Cecil crossed his fingers. ‘Parents and, er, friends aren’t allowed to come to the school,’ he said. ‘It’s a very strict rule.’

  ‘Well, if it’s a rule, we’d better obey it,’ said Filthy Frederick. ‘Don’t want them lashing you to the mast and flogging you with a cat o’ nine tails, do we lad? Or tar and feathering you, or shutting you up in the school dungeons, or…’

  ‘Afternoon CJ!’

  It was Mr Farthingale. Cecil tried to sink into the concrete, doggy doo and all. ‘Good afternoon, sir,’ he whispered.

  Mr Farthingale smiled at Filthy Frederick. ‘Is this your father?’

  Filthy Frederick grinned over the pile of pizzas, showing his remaining three long, yellow teeth. ‘Shiver me timbers! I’m not the lad’s father! His dad died in the big typhoon when Cecil here was just a little snapper. No, I’m…’

  ‘My great uncle,’ put in Cecil hastily. ‘This is Great Uncle Frederick, Mr Farthingale. Great Uncle Frederick, this is Mr Farthingale, my teacher.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Mr Farthingale. He sniffed. ‘Someone must have left a bag of prawns in one of the rubbish bins,’ he said.

  ‘Teacher!’ Filthy Frederick beamed. ‘Shiver me timbers and caulk my bulkhead, I never thought I’d meet a real live teacher! I was just saying to the lad here, how much his ma and me and the boys would love to see that school of his.’

  ‘Why not come to Parent-Teacher night then?’ asked Mr Farthingale.

  Filthy Frederick frowned. ‘What’s Parent–Teacher night?’

  Mr Farthingale frowned. ‘Didn’t you give your mother the note about the Parent–Teacher night, CJ?’

  ‘Er. Um,’ said Cecil. ‘She’s really very busy. I don’t think…’

  ‘So what is this Parent–Teacher night?’ boomed Filthy Frederick over the pizza boxes.

  ‘It’s when parents and teachers can talk about how kids are going in class, and parents can see some of the work the class is doing,’ explained Mr Farthingale. ‘It’s tomorrow night.’

  ‘Shiver me timbers!’ roared Filthy Frederick again. He gave Mr Farthingale such a smack on the back (while keeping a tight hold on the tower of pizza boxes) that he nearly fell into the gutter. ‘The lad’s ma will be there all right! The whole crew will be there!’

  No! thought Cecil desperately. No! Maybe he could run away and join the circus! He could learn to juggle and teach Snap how to jump through hoops.

  Maybe he could find another wizard to give him wings so he could fly away fast before Parent–Teacher night!

  Maybe he could…

  Filthy Frederick nodded at his pile of pizzas. ‘Better get these back before they get cold or the captain’ll have my guts to tie the sails with! Pleasure to meet you, M’lord Teacher.’

  Cecil bit his lip as they walked away. Mum and the crew coming to Parent–Teacher night! What could he do now?

  CHAPTER 6

  Parent Teacher Night

  The deck of the good ship Mermaid was scattered with pizza boxes and burnt crusts. The skull and crossbones flapped merrily in the breeze. In the shade of the mainsail, Snap chewed on crusts and Shark-eyed Pete’s anchovies.

  Mum took a last bite of her pizza supreme and wiped her hand over her mouth. ‘That was the best dinner I’ve had since we captured the king of Spain’s chef the day your dad and I got married,’ she said happily. ‘Now, I’d better get meself tidied up for this Parent–Teacher night. What do you think I should wear, son? My new black boots and the lace shirt with velvet jerkin?’

  ‘Um,’ said Cecil. ‘Most of the other mums will be wearing dresses, or maybe tracksuit pants…’

  Mum laughed so hard a pizza box nearly blew over the rail. ‘A dress! I’d get my sword tangled in my petticoats!’

  ‘But Mum, women don’t wear great big skirts and petticoats any more. They don’t wear swords either,’ he added hopefu
lly.

  ‘No sword! What if we run into some slavers?’

  ‘There aren’t any slavers in Bandicoot Flats…’ began Cecil.

  ‘Or footpads or bandits? No, son, I’d feel undressed without my trusty sword at my side. That was the sword I wore when I married your dad, the sword I wore the day you were born…’

  ‘Look, Mum, you don’t really want to come to Parent–Teacher night! It’ll be boring!’

  ‘Fa de la!’ cried Mum. ‘I’ve never seen a school before! Or met a teacher! Filthy Frederick said your teacher was a fine figure of a man, too! Now, are any of you landlubbers coming to Parent–Teacher night with us?’

  ‘Parent–Teacher night’s just for parents,’ put in Cecil quickly, then felt mean as Filthy Frederick’s face fell.

  ‘Snap?’ asked Snap hopefully, crawling up to Cecil’s feet and grinning with his giant, yellow teeth.

  Cecil shook his head. He felt worse and worse. ‘It’s not for crocodiles either,’ he added. Snap slunk sadly back to the shade of the mainsail.

  ‘Never mind, lads,’ said Mum comfortingly, ‘I’ll tell you all about it afterwards. Tell you what, why don’t you lads pick us up afterwards?’ she said to Filthy Frederick. ‘Sail the dinghy up Bandicoot Creek. Bring the crocodile too. It’ll be an outing for him. Save Cecil and me walking back in the dark.’

  ‘But Mum, we can take a taxi.’

  ‘A taxi! When there’s a good dinghy going idle!’ Mum shook her head. ‘And this way the crew can get a look at the school too. Come on. We don’t want to be late.’

  CHAPTER 7

  Mum goes to School

  The school hall was already crowded when Mum and Cecil arrived. The buzz of conversation stopped as Mum strode in, her best pirate hat set jauntily on her long black hair, her big leather boots shining in the light, the giant ruby on her finger flashing red.