Hamish X and the Cheese Pirates

by Sean Cullen

  “Let’s git everybody aboard,” Mimi said urgently. “Mr. Kipling’s bought us a minute or two at most.”

  MR. KIPLING CALMLY AWAITED the wave of attackers boiling towards him. He held his weapons ready and tried to pick out whom he would take down first. Captain Cheesebeard hadn’t joined the attack, leaving the death of his first mate to his underlings as a final insult. The loathsome Viggo stood beside the Captain, grinning and whispering into his ear.

  Suddenly, the pirate charge faltered. The wave shambled to a stop, with each filthy, greasy face turning to look at something behind Mr. Kipling. He stole a glance over his shoulder and saw a boy walking towards him. The boy wore a torn and tattered woollen coat, a broad smile, and a pair of huge, shining black boots. The boy stopped beside him and held out his hand.

  “Hello there,” the boy said, “I’m Hamish X.”

  “Mr. Kipling.” He shook the proffered hand and sketched a bow. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Mrs. Francis. Magnificent boots.”

  “Thanks,” Hamish X grinned. He cocked a thumb at the pirates. “Looks like you could use a hand.”

  “Always! However, your friends are already on the airship. You should join them and leave this to me.”

  “Very thoughtful of you, but I’ll stay just the same,” Hamish X answered. He turned to the pirates. “Surrender!”

  At the sight of the boy, a fury swept over Cheesebeard. He raised his sword and pointed at Hamish X. “You!” he howled, “Hamish X!”

  Hamish X merely looked at him in mild curiosity. “Yes. I’m Hamish X.”

  “You killed Soybeard, my dear brother,” Cheesebeard bellowed.

  “He tried to kill me first,” Hamish X answered, “and he tried to sink the boat I was in along with forty-two orphans I was helping to escape from a running shoe factory.”

  “You call that an excuse?”

  “Yes, I do,” Hamish X said sadly.

  “It was self-defence. He was an evil, vicious murderer, and so are you.”

  At this, Cheesebeard howled with fury. “I am going to kill you right now and I promise you …” Cheesebeard licked his lips, “it will be slow and painful.”

  “It’s nice to have a goal in life, even if it can never be realized,” Hamish smiled. “Surrender.” The pirates looked at each other incredulously, then started to laugh.

  Cheesebeard’s beard shook with his own scornful laughter, raining crumbs down upon the ground. “There’s only two of you.”

  “I’m impressed that you can count so high. I’m giving you one chance to give up, and it’s more than you deserve. You’re a vicious pirate, a thief, and a kidnapper, but more importantly, you stole something that belongs to me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A book.”

  Cheesebeard picked at his beard, thinking. “You mean that horribly boring book about plumbers? It’s terrible!”

  “Nonetheless, it’s mine and I want it back. Give it to me and we’ll leave you in peace. Otherwise, I’ll take it from you by force.”

  The Captain barked out a laugh. “By force! You’ll take it by force? You and what army?”

  “This one,” Hamish X said. “Winkie!”

  At the sound of his name, the huge snow monkey burst out of the stairway from the caverns below. At his back swarmed hundreds of his fellow monkeys, shrieking, hooting, and bent on destruction.

  “Sweet mother of all primates!” Cheesebeard gasped, astonished at the tide of angry monkey flesh rolling over the front rank of disbelieving pirates. The men barely had a chance to raise their weapons before the deluge overwhelmed them.

  Hamish X and Mr. Kipling lent their support to the monkey onslaught. Mr. Kipling lay about with his sword and dagger, spinning and striking with devastating grace. Hamish X lashed out with his powerful boots, somersaulting, pirouetting, cartwheeling his way towards the foe, attempting to clear a path to the pirate Captain.

  The bewildered pirates didn’t know what to do. Sheer weight of numbers and the ferocity of the attack forced them to retreat towards the great hall. They tried to rally, to organize some kind of defence, but the monkey attack was too intense. One by one, gangs of angry simians began to drag them down. Perhaps with better leadership they might have had a chance, but Cheesebeard only shouted insults at his men, all the while edging towards the hall behind him. “Hold them, men! Hold them! Have you no pride? Are you no match for a gang of dirty monkeys?”

  Clearly, the pirates were not. Between the monkeys, Mr. Kipling, and Hamish X, Cheesebeard’s men were losing their stomach for the fight. First one turned and fled. Then another. In seconds, the entire pirate force was in full retreat, catching the monkeys by surprise with the suddenness of their flight.

  “To the hall!” Cheesebeard shouted. He stood by the open doors waving his sword. “This way!”

  Viggo had seen which way the battle was going and was hiding behind the door watching the battle unfold. When Hamish X had emerged from the caverns he could hardly believe his eyes. And now he felt such a surge of hatred that he almost ran out of his hiding place to confront the boy with the big boots.

  First he has the nerve to escape from my orphanage, Viggo fumed. Then he has the temerity to survive a pirate attack! And now he comes here and ruins my wonderful new partnership with Cheesebeard!

  Unfortunately, coming out into the open would expose Viggo to personal danger and monkey vengeance. His natural cowardice won out and he stayed huddled in the shelter of the doorway.

  The pirates ran as fast as their legs could carry them towards the open doors of the hall, the monkeys hooting in hot pursuit. Fear fuelled the pirates’ steps, but fury drove the monkeys faster. Cheesebeard assessed the situation and, realizing that his men would never reach the doors in time, he decided to do what all true leaders of pirates have done throughout the ages: he saved himself. He leapt into the hall and pushed the doors closed in the faces of his henchmen. Viggo quickly slammed down the bar, effectively locking the monkeys and pirates out while locking himself and the Captain in.

  The pirates howled in frustration, pounding in vain at the wood with the butts of their weapons. Defeated, they turned to face the onrushing monkey horde and did the only sensible thing: they threw down their weapons and surrendered.

  “Stop!” Hamish X cried. Winkie hooted and the monkeys reluctantly reined themselves in. Hooting and shrieking, they pounded their chests and slapped the ground with the palms of their hands, making such a ferocious din that some of the pirates began to cry like little children.

  “Don’t kill us,” they begged. “We give up! We was just followin’ orders.”

  “I don’t even like being a pirate!” one man cried.

  “I don’t even like cheese,” added another.

  “I’m easily led,” said another. “My guidance counsellor in high school said so.”

  Hamish X and Mr. Kipling made their way through the ring of monkeys to stand in front of the captives. Hamish X looked at the pathetic men on their knees wringing their hands.

  “Should we kill them?” Mr. Kipling asked.

  Hamish X thought for a moment. “No,” he said at last.

  “Then we’d be no better than they are. I have no quarrel with them any more. It’s Cheesebeard I want, and the book.”

  “Good boy,” said Mr. Kipling, sheathing his weapons.

  “You go to the airship and make sure everyone’s aboard,” Hamish X said to Mr. Kipling. “I’ll deal with Cheesebeard.”

  “Be careful, lad,” Mr. Kipling said, laying a hand on Hamish X’s shoulder before trotting away.

  Hamish X watched him go, then turned and glared at the pirates. “Out of the way.”

  They parted like a flock of sheep for a wolf as he walked up to the doors. He kicked them once. A resounding boom echoed from the crater walls.

  “Cheesebeard!”

  “We don’t want any,” came the muffled response. “Come back later!”

  “Very funny,” Hamish X called ba
ck. “Open the door right now or else I’ll kick it down!”

  “I’d like to see you try! It’s made of solid oak reinforced with steel.”

  “You asked for it!”

  Hamish backed up a few steps. He concentrated on the boots. It was becoming easier now to connect with the strange energy they held. The familiar tickle of power coursed up his legs.

  He stamped one foot. “One.” The power swelled.

  He stamped the other. “Two!” The boots began to glow.

  He leapt, striking the doors where they met in the centre with both boots together.

  “Three!” The power surged as he made contact. With a crack like a cannon blast, the doors burst inward. The bar broke in two pieces and fell to the floor. Hamish X tucked and rolled in a somersault, coming to his feet ready for action.

  Standing on the raised step in front of a huge recliner was Cheesebeard, grinning like a maniac. One of his arms was wrapped around Viggo’s neck and the other held a knife to the cheese master’s throat.

  “Don’t come any closer,” Viggo whimpered piteously. “He’ll kill me.”

  Chapter 32

  The cheese master cringed in terror as Captain Cheesebeard pressed the knife harder into the wattle of loose skin covering his Adam’s apple.

  “Why should I care if he kills you?” said Hamish X. “You never did a good thing for anyone in your life.”

  “Please,” Viggo whined, “I know you have no reason to care about what happens to me, but I know you’re a kindhearted boy. You were so nice to little what’s-his-name with the glasses and whosit …”

  “Parveen and Mimi.”

  “Exactly! What would they think of you if you let someone die in cold blood?”

  Hamish X clenched his jaw. According to Cheesebeard, he’d killed the pirate Soybeard. But he felt sure he’d been justified in ridding the world of an evil pirate who’d killed so many people and was probably bent on killing him, too. Viggo was helpless, however, and at Cheesebeard’s mercy. Hamish X searched his heart and found that he couldn’t let the cheese master die like this. Despite Viggo’s horrible behaviour towards himself and his friends, Hamish X discovered he felt sorry for the miserable man. Perhaps this would be the act of kindness Viggo needed to see the light.

  “All right, Cheesebeard. Let him go and I promise you won’t be harmed. All I want is the book. Give it to me and I’ll go.”

  “You promise?” Cheesebeard laughed. “What good is a promise from you? How do I know the moment I let him go you won’t give me a boot massage with those massive clodhoppers?”

  “What do you want me to promise by?”

  “The International Pirate Code!” A gasp went up from the pirates who had surrendered outside. They had gathered in the doorway to watch the confrontation between the Captain and the strange little boy.

  “International Pirate Code?” Hamish X asked.

  “Is there an echo in here? Yes the International Pirate Code!” Cheesebeard pressed the knife deeper into the flesh of Viggo’s neck.

  Hamish X sighed. “I promise by the International Pirate Code that I shall not harm you if you let him go.”

  Cheesebeard’s eyes narrowed. “The IPC, eh?”

  “You heard me.”

  “You promise by the International Pirate Code not to harm me or Viggo here?”

  “You’re the one with a knife at his throat.”

  “Just promise!” He pressed the knife harder.

  “Fine. I promise!”

  Cheesebeard hesitated a moment longer, then smiled. “You were right, Viggo. He’s an altogether gullible boy.” He removed the knife from Viggo’s neck.

  “I told you, Captain,” Viggo grinned, “I can read him like a book.” He looked at Hamish X’s shocked expression. “Of course it was just a ruse, Hamish X. You are such a little fool.”

  “Why you rotten …” Hamish X snarled and lunged at Viggo. The thin man yelped and darted behind Cheesebeard.

  “We had a deal,” Cheesebeard said smugly. “IPC!”

  With supreme effort, Hamish X curbed his anger. “All right. You fooled me. Once! You’ve taken advantage of my kindness. Once! You won’t be given a second chance. Now, where’s the book?”

  “That wasn’t part of the deal. I said I wouldn’t harm Viggo. I didn’t say I’d tell you where the book is.”

  “Give it to me! Now!” Hamish stamped his foot. Bottles jumped on the table and fell crashing to the floor.

  “Temper! Temper!” Cheesebeard tutted. “You really have to control yourself. You won’t get anywhere being so rude.” He walked easily up the steps and sat in his recliner, crossing his legs. “What’s so important about this book anyway?”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “I’m making it my business.”

  Hamish clenched his fists. “It was my mother’s. She meant for me to have it.”

  “She couldn’t have cared that much if she left you with strangers and with the most boring book ever written as a final slap in the face. I don’t mind saying, it’s obvious to me she didn’t care too much about you at all.”

  Hamish X’s sudden leap caught Cheesebeard by surprise. The boy launched himself through the air, landing with one big black boot on the arm of the recliner and the other big black boot pressed against the pirate Captain’s throat.

  “Say one more word about my mother … one more word and IPC or no, I’ll crush you like a grape.” Cheesebeard’s face went red and then purple as Hamish X leaned on his windpipe. Finally, Hamish X hopped down from the chair and stood waiting for Cheesebeard to regain his breath.

  “The book,” Hamish X said simply.

  “I have it somewhere safe. You’ll never find it if you kill me. But I’ll tell you what we’ll do …” Cheesebeard’s eyes glittered with malice. “We’ll have a challenge according to the code. If you win, I’ll give you the book. If I win …” he smiled like a crocodile, yellow teeth gleaming in the lamplight. “If I win, then you have to come and work for me. Is it a deal?”

  Hamish X was silent. Working for Cheesebeard was an impossible scenario, but so was leaving without the book. Great Plumbers and Their Exploits was the only connection he had with his mother. Each time he held it he felt closer to the truth. He had to have it back.

  “All right,” he sighed at last. “But I choose the challenge.”

  “It can’t be anything to do with boots or kicking,” Cheesebeard said quickly.

  “Good one, Captain,” Viggo simpered.

  Hamish X glared at the cheese maker, who ducked behind the recliner. Hamish X thought for a moment. Then he smiled.

  “I know,” he said. “We’ll have an eating contest. Whoever can eat the most Caribou Blue wins.”

  A triumphant light filled Cheesebeard’s eyes. He crowed to the ceiling. “Ho! Ho! Ho! You’re on, my little friend. No one can eat more cheese than I. No one! Especially not a sawed-off little runt like you. Ho! Ho! Ho!”

  Hamish X smiled grimly and crossed his arms. “Any time you’re ready.”

  “Bring in the Caribou Blue,” Cheesebeard snarled. “Right away.” Viggo bowed and scraped, backing away.

  HAMISH X AND THE PIRATE CAPTAIN sat on the platform. Cheesebeard occupied his recliner while Hamish X sat on a low stool facing him. A small table separated them.

  Viggo painstakingly measured each cube so that each weighed a uniform ounce. The fumes were so powerful around the block he cut them from that he was forced to wear a gas mask. Hamish X watched the process like a hawk, keen to catch Viggo in case he cheated with the measurements.

  At last, the two combatants announced they were satisfied. Two plates piled with one-ounce cubes of Caribou Blue rested on the table. Everyone stood back a good distance, but many complained of watery eyes and dizziness.

  Hamish X and Cheesebeard didn’t flinch. They stared at each other over the mounds of cheese, the tension so palpable one could have cut it with a knife. The stench of the cheese was so palpable one could ha
ve used the same knife to cut it, too.78 But neither of the combatants showed any sign of weakness.

  Cheesebeard raised his buttock, expelled some trapped gas, smiled and spread his hands. “As challenger, you should go first.”

  “If you insist,” Hamish X said.

  Hamish X reached out and plucked a cube of cheese from the top of his pile. He popped it into his mouth and chewed it with gusto. The crowd of pirates standing all around gasped. The monkeys clinging to the walls hooted. Hamish X swallowed, opened his mouth, and displayed the empty cavity.

  “Your turn,” he said.

  Cheesebeard reached out, plucked the top piece of cheese off his plate, and with a nonchalant flick of the wrist tossed it into his mouth. This time the pirates hooted and the monkeys gasped. He chewed, swallowed, and smiled.

  “You know you haven’t got a chance, don’t you?” Cheesebeard said as Hamish picked up his next morsel. “I’m going to win and you’ll be my slave.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” Hamish X said, placing the cheese in his mouth.

  “It’s a matter of fact that I am easily three times the size of you. I’ve been eating cheese my whole life. There’s no cheese that can get the better of me,” Cheesebeard laughed.

  Hamish X shrugged, opening his mouth to display that he had swallowed. His golden eyes watered slightly, but otherwise he showed no ill effects. “That may be true. But Caribou Blue is a powerful cheese. The fumes alone can induce madness. No one has ever eaten more than three ounces and survived. Those consuming two ounces have been known to experience hallucinations, blindness, and paralysis.”

  Cheesebeard popped another ounce into his mouth, chewing as he answered. “Umph, yes, indeed. So how can you hope to defeat me? I’ll eat you under the table. Yumph.” Beads of sweat stood out on Cheesebeard’s brow. He blinked again and again. “Feeling it yet, Hamish X?”

  “No. I think you are though. Look at your hands.” Cheesebeard held up his hands. They were trembling violently. “It’s nothing … just the cold … and I haven’t been sleeping well lately … Mommy?” He turned his head sharply to look at an empty space. “Is that you, Mommy?” Suddenly his right arm went rigid. He banged it on the tabletop. “Mommy my arm’s all stiff!”