Hamish X and the Cheese Pirates

by Sean Cullen

  The Comptesse raised her face from her hands and saw the owner of the commanding voice.

  He was tall and broad in the shoulders, outlined against the firelight in silhouette. She couldn’t make out his facial features, but a broad-brimmed hat framed his head with a bedraggled ostrich feather sticking out of it. He exuded menace and the rank stench of rancid dairy products. The source of the stench was the thick, matted beard that hung stiffly from his chin, covering his chest completely. The beard was solid with melted cheese, glistening and greasy.

  The Comptesse screamed, “Who are you? Why are you here? What do you want of me?” She began to weep again.

  The shadowy man cocked his head towards her.

  “To answer your questions in the order they were presented,” he began. He held up a finger. “One: we are Cheese Pirates.” He held up a second finger. “Two: we are here for your cheese.” He held up a third finger that was missing its tip, ending in a scarred knob at the first knuckle. “Three,” he said, “we want you to come with us.”

  Hoots of laughter went up from all the pirates. The Comptesse screamed herself hoarse. A shadow blocked out the stars. She stopped screaming long enough to see that something huge obscured the moon and the few stars peeking through the clouds. She heard the thrum of engines.

  Chapter 8

  The next morning, the klaxon sounded at seven. The lights came on, long racks of heartless fluorescent tubes flickering to life. The light of a fluorescent bulb is specially designed to discourage optimism and dampen the spirits of children,36 and these lights excelled at their allotted task.

  When Mimi woke up she found that Hamish was already dressed. He wore his new pair of overalls but still had the same huge boots on. The cuffs of the overalls had been cut along the seams to accommodate the boots. He sat on his cot, rucksack plunked down on the floor at his feet. A huge book rested on his knees. He was poring through the pages with intense concentration, his golden eyes flicking back and forth.

  Mimi was feeling a bit tired from all the dangling the night before. She propped herself up on one elbow and looked at Hamish X’s boots. They were marvellously smooth and shiny. Hamish X sensed Mimi looking at him.

  “Good morning, Mimi.” Hamish X smiled.

  “Nothin’ particularly good about it,” Mimi grumbled sleepily. “Just don’t puke on me.”

  Parveen returned from the common room. He spent a lot of time there studying whatever reading material he could get. Mrs. Francis saw that he got all of Viggo’s discarded magazines and newspapers as well as whatever used books she could find. She also made sure scraps of paper and pencils found their way into Parveen’s hands. He currently carried a wad of scrap paper. Seeing Mimi and Hamish X awake, he tucked his pencil back behind his right ear. “Hello,” Parveen said. “Did the bowl kites function as I intended?”

  “Perfectly.” Hamish X slapped Parveen on the back heartily. The little boy winced.

  “The porridge was a bit of a waste though,” Mimi laughed.

  She described the scene at the door to the cafeteria in detail. Parveen listened in silence to the tale. When it was finished, he turned to Hamish X.

  “Voluntary projectile reverse peristalsis,” he said. “Fascinating.”

  “Messy, too,” Mimi laughed again.

  “You stole a keycard,” Parveen said, his brow creased in a serious expression much too old for his little brown face. “Such actions are extremely dangerous. They can lead to a lot of trouble.”

  “Borrowed,” Hamish X corrected. “Dangerous but necessary.”

  Parveen immediately stepped closer to examine the book on Hamish X’s lap, leaning closer to read the title.

  “Great Plumbers and Their Exploits?”37

  “My mother left it with me,” Hamish explained. “I read from it every day. I’m sure my mother hid a message for me in it somewhere. If I can just figure it out, I’ll be able to find her one day.”

  “Your mother?” Mimi said. “I thought you was an orphan.”

  “Only for the purpose of official classification,” Hamish said breezily. “She was forced to leave me at an orphanage but she left me the book as a clue to where I would find her.”

  “Well, I don’t mean to be the squirrel in the peanut butter, but if she’s still out there somewheres, why doesn’t she come and find you?” Mimi asked.

  Hamish X’s face darkened and his strange eyes flashed. “Because she can’t. I have to find her! That’s the way it has to be!” he snapped.

  Mimi flinched. “Whatever you say! Don’t get yerself in a lather!”

  As quickly as his anger came, it went away again. Hamish X smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I’m a little sensitive about Mother.”

  “Well, how come you haven’t managed to crack the code? In all these years?”

  “If it was easy to crack, it would hardly be a secret code, would it?”

  Mimi had no answer to that.

  Parveen bent over the book, examining it minutely through his thick glasses. He looked at Hamish.

  “May I?” he asked.

  Hamish X narrowed his eyes and clutched the book tightly. Parveen held out his open hands. “I promise I’ll give it right back.” Hamish X hesitated a moment longer, then handed the book to Parveen.

  Parveen ran his hands over the cover. The book was bound in leather and inlaid with gold leaf. It would have been very valuable had its subject not been so obviously boring. Parveen carefully opened the cover and flipped through the pages. There were diagrams and black ink illustrations throughout. The print was fine and dense. Parveen studied the book silently for a moment. “I would very much like to examine this at leisure, Hamish X. Perhaps I could help you decipher something, given time.”

  Hamish X shook his head, snatching the book back. “Only I can crack the code. I have to do it alone.” He placed the book on his cot. Then he picked up the rucksack and dumped the rest of his belongings onto the scratchy grey flannel blanket that covered the bed.

  “Not a lot to show for myself,” he said, looking at the meagre bundle of possessions. “Just these things and, of course, my boots.” He plunked them on the floor: one, two.

  “May I?” Parveen asked again, pulling a magnifying glass out of the pocket of his overalls.

  Hamish X smiled. “Be my guest.”

  Parveen spent the next five minutes examining the strange boots in detail. He tapped them. He stroked them. He lifted each one and looked at the knobby soles. Finally, he sat back on his heels. “Where did you get them?” he asked.

  “I don’t remember exactly,” Hamish said. “It sounds weird but … I’ve always had them. I can’t remember a time when they weren’t on my feet.” He laughed.

  “C’mon,” Mimi scoffed. “You tryin’ to tell us those boots grow with ya?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you, Mimi. And what’s even weirder is, I’ve never, ever taken them off.”

  “You’ve never seen your own feet?” Parveen’s eyes were wide behind his glasses, which made him look even more owlish. “That is truly disturbing!”

  “How is it even possible?” Mimi said. “How can boots grow?”

  Hamish X shrugged. “I only know what I’ve seen with my own eyes. They’re my best friends, these boots!” He slapped the shiny black footwear. “They’ve been with me through thick and thin. I like to think maybe a wizard put them on me. That they’re magic or something.”

  “Whatever!” Mimi rolled her eyes. “Got any other surprises?”

  He looked around him to check that they weren’t being watched. All the children were in the cafeteria and the one guard, Hammerface, was dozing in a chair by the wall.

  “Just this,” he whispered.

  Hamish stuffed the fingers of his right hand down the side of his right boot. With a flourish like a magician in a stage show, he produced a bulky Swiss Army pocketknife.

  The knife looked like most Swiss Army knives; red on the sides with an inlaid Swiss Cross, utensi
ls neatly folded into the centre. The only difference was in the number of utensils: there were too many to count. The knife practically bristled with them. The strange thing was that the knife didn’t seem to weigh as much as it should considering all the bits folded into it.

  “Nice knife,” Parveen whispered, awestruck. He loved tools and gadgets of any description, but this knife was a thing of beauty.

  “How did you git that past the metal detector?” Mimi asked incredulously.

  “It must be made of a non-metallic alloy that the detectors can’t pick up,” Parveen said. Hamish X tossed it to him. The smaller boy held the knife cradled in his brown hands like a priceless treasure.

  “It was given to me by the King of Switzerland,” Hamish X said, a strange look coming over his face. “I’m supposed to give it back to him one day.”

  “Switzerland is a republic,” Parveen said. “They don’t have a king.”

  “Yeah, they do. He gave me this.” Hamish X took the knife back and held it up so that it sparkled in the fluorescent lights of the dormitory. “There’s a corkscrew, a screwdriver, a boning knife, a saw, a magnifying glass, a pair of scissors, a spatula for flipping tiny pancakes, a spoon, a fork, three different knives … There are lots more but I haven’t had the time to look for them yet.”

  He stuffed the knife back into his boot and sat on the edge of his cot.

  “Why didn’t you use it last night?” Mimi demanded. “You could have cut us loose!”

  “Sure,” Hamish X shrugged. “Then what? We’d have been blown like leaves across the freezing tundra. No, I needed that time to sound out whom I could trust in this dump. I know I can trust you, Mimi. You pack a punch but you’re honest and true.”

  Mimi blushed. Hamish X turned to Parveen.

  “You were willing to risk getting into trouble to bring us that food. And those little bowl kites have inspired me. I think I’ll take you with me, too.”

  “What do you mean?” Parveen asked. “Where are you going?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Hamish smiled. “I’m going to escape and you’re both coming with me.”

  Parveen and Mimi sat in stunned silence. Finally, Mimi shook her head.

  “It’s impossible,” she whispered. “There are too many guards.”

  “Stupid guards,” Hamish pointed out.

  “And dogs,” Parveen added.

  “I have a way with animals.”

  “And even if you get past them,” Mimi insisted, “there’s the electric fence. You’ll be fried for sure.”

  “It is very, very electrical,” Parveen said simply. “Probably a million volts.”

  “Electrical fences are a personal favourite of mine,” Hamish X said airily.

  “And even if ya did get out,” Mimi reasoned, “where would ya go? The nearest town is nine hunnert kilometres away across a frozen wasteland. If the bears don’t eat ya,38 you’ll freeze to death.”

  “Now that’s the most fun part of the whole plan.” Hamish smiled and patted Parveen on the back, not so hard this time. “And I have Parveen to thank for that.”

  “Me?” Parveen said nervously.

  “You,” Hamish X confirmed. “Just be ready when the time comes.”

  Mimi couldn’t help herself. “Is it gonna be soon?”

  “As soon as possible,” Hamish X nodded.

  Parveen shook his head. “I find it very hard to believe that there is any possible escape from this place. I am resigned to wait out the years until I am fourteen and then I will be removed from here to live a productive life perhaps working for an electronics firm.”

  “How do ya know they’ll let ya go after ya turn fourteen, huh? The ODA come and pick ya up and then yer never seen again!” Mimi realized she was talking loudly. She looked around and continued in a whisper. “I fer one don’t wanna wait. Hamish X, are you shore we can git out?”

  “Trust me,” Hamish said. “Can you?”

  Mimi and Parveen exchanged a look. “I won’t go without ya, Parv.”

  Parveen sat looking at Hamish X for a long moment. When he finally spoke, he asked a strange question. “You’re quite certain you don’t know how old you are?”

  Hamish X thought about it. “I think I’m about ten years old. Why?”

  Parveen looked hard at Hamish X for a few seconds before he put away his magnifying glass. “You don’t seem to know very much about yourself at all,” he said. “Yet you expect me to trust you?”

  Hamish X hung his head. “I know. You’re right.” He raised his golden eyes to Parveen and then to Mimi. “There are holes in my memory. It scares me a bit. People tell me about the things I’ve done and the places I’ve been … And I don’t really remember them clearly. It’s like they happened to somebody else. There are things I can’t explain. My boots, for example. Things I’m able to do that I don’t remember learning. It’s all kind of weird.” Hamish X reached out and grabbed Mimi and Parveen by the hand. He looked up into their faces with an intensity that was almost frightening. “But I promise you, I can get us out of here. I’d like to take everyone with us, but Windcity is too remote … too dangerous. I can only take you two. Do you trust me?”

  Parveen and Mimi looked at each other for a moment then made their decision.

  “We’re in,” Parveen said softly.

  “What have we got to lose?” Mimi added.

  “Exactly.” Hamish X clapped his hands and stood up. “Now, let’s get some of that delectable porridge. It’s time for me to learn the ropes and become the model worker.”

  He turned and led the way through the common room to the cafeteria. Mimi and Parveen followed him.

  VIGGO ASSIGNED HAMISH X to cutting detail. Mimi showed him what to do and he mastered the job quickly. He was surprisingly strong for his size. He could shovel and cut and heave as much cheese as anyone and he did it cheerfully, even finding time to help others if they fell behind.

  Viggo watched Hamish X from his glass box of an office, high above the factory floor. He was surprised at how the new boy fit in so seamlessly, but he couldn’t help but be suspicious. Every time the boy caught Viggo looking at him, he would wave and smile in an infuriatingly impudent way. Hamish X was a troublemaker and he would have to be watched. Viggo would have to leave that in the hands of the guards, however. Other important events consumed his attention.

  Chapter 9

  As the days passed, Hamish X seemed so at home in the factory that Mimi began to wonder if he’d forgotten all about escaping. He never mentioned anything about breaking out. Only by studying him closely could she see anything but the perfect little cheese worker. But there was something going on behind the facade. She sensed that he was watching and learning, taking everything in.

  Hamish X worked all day slicing and heaving. He didn’t complain. He whistled cheerfully, and kept up a running chatter with whoever was close by. Frankly, his workmates didn’t know what to make of him. They were used to keeping their heads down and working in silence. But Hamish X asked the children questions about themselves, about their time in the orphanage, about their work in the factory. Innocent enough questions, but Mimi watched how carefully Hamish listened to the answers, as if he were storing up the information for use at a later date.

  Hamish X even took time to learn about the other aspects of production. He played with the young children as they paddled in the milk tank. He tried his hand at pressing, too, trudging around and around singing strange songs in strange languages to keep up the rhythm. When asked, he said he didn’t know what the words meant, couldn’t remember where he’d heard the songs before. His good humour was infectious. Hamish X was strange, but the children grew to like him.

  Thus the time passed. Hamish X settled into life at the Windcity Orphanage and Cheese Factory. On the surface it was still the same crushing grind of boredom and hard work, but somehow there was a difference. Mrs. Francis noticed it as she ladled out the porridge and poured out the whey. Every once in a while, she saw a smile on a chil
d’s face. Not a big smile, certainly. Not an outright, coast-to-coast, face-splitting, blue-ribbon grin. Just a little smile from time to time, but it warmed Mrs. Francis’s heart nonetheless.

  What did Viggo think of the change in atmosphere? He didn’t notice. Normally he would have pounced on any little glimmer of good feeling and crushed it underfoot, but he was preoccupied. Over the weeks since Hamish X’s arrival he had been under a lot of stress. Reports about the marauding Cheese Pirates were coming in daily.39

  Therefore, he paid less attention to Hamish X than he should have. He let the guards take care of disciplining the boy.

  The undercurrent of good feeling that Hamish X inspired was disturbing to the guards. Furthermore, they noticed a discrepancy in the cheese count. Several ounces were missing. Someone had been pilfering small amounts of cheese. Only a few dozen ounces were unaccounted for, but Viggo was extremely possessive of Caribou Blue. Even a small amount of wayward cheese could add up to a large financial loss over time.

  Pianoface, Tubaface, and Hammerface (following an elaborate game of paper, rock, scissors) decided that Hammerface should take the bad news to the boss. The unfortunate guard reluctantly climbed the stairs like a man climbing the gallows. He arrived at the glass door of Viggo’s inner sanctum and hesitated, looking back to his friends at the bottom of the stairs for encouragement. But they had already scattered in anticipation of the coming storm. So Hammerface gulped, screwed up his courage, and rapped tentatively on the door.

  “What is it?” the voice barked.

  “Master Viggo, sir,” Hammerface stammered. “May I speak with you for a moment?”

  The door flew open to reveal Viggo, his hair a greasy corona around his head, his eyes sunken and hollow. “What could you possibly want to talk about?”

  “Uh …” Hammerface was so terrified that his entire body was clenched—which was fortunate because if it hadn’t been, he might have wet himself. The strange thing was that Hammerface could have snapped Viggo in half had he chosen to, and then snapped someone else in half without feeling the slightest bit tired. But Viggo was a master of cowing people with his intense displeasure. Lion tamers are puny compared to the fierce animals they control. Will is all that stands between them and the snap of the lion’s jaws.40