Phantom Pirates

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Phantom Pirates Page 4

by Daren King


  The moment Agatha’s hand touched the door handle, the door evaporated, only to materialise further along the wispy wooden wall.

  ‘You’d better hurry, Aggie dear,’ Eleanor said. ‘I think the phantom pirates may have seen us.’

  Across the water, we could see the Elizabethan Captain and Captain Mean-Beard wisping above the bow of the Raggy Dolly.

  ‘This,’ Wither said, ‘will be a battle to behold.’

  But rather than fight, the two phantom Captains tossed their cutlasses onto the deck, slapped each other heartily on the back and shook hands.

  ‘How frightfully friendly,’ I said.

  ‘If the pirates are joining forces,’ Charlie said, ‘they won’t be needing their old ghost ship.’

  ‘In that case,’ Tabitha said, ‘they won’t mind if we steer it all the way to England.’

  ‘Wait!’ the still-alive boy said. ‘I have something to tell you.’

  ‘We’d better listen to the lad,’ Charlie said, adjusting his cufflinks.

  ‘Remember when you counted seven pairs of eyeballs?’ the boy said. ‘When you lifted me from the barrel, I could count only six.’

  ‘Plus your own wondrous orbs,’ Wither said. ‘Six plus one equals seven.’

  ‘Wither, the boy is right,’ Agatha said. ‘There should be eight pairs of eyeballs, not seven.’

  ‘Which of us is missing?’ Tabitha said.

  ‘Let’s ask Humphrey,’ Wither said. ‘The Bump boy is good with this sort of thing. Humphrey, which . . . ?’ Wither scratched his seagull head with a claw-like finger. ‘I say, where’s Humphrey?’

  We were about to start calling Humphrey’s name when Humphrey came tumbling towards us through the air.

  ‘Humphrey,’ Tabitha said, ‘where have you been?’

  ‘I found the pirates’ secret stash of fish fingers. I had to eat them before they went off.’

  ‘Well, you’ve arrived just in time,’ I said. ‘We’re about to set sail for England.’

  ‘I think we’d better sail in the opposite direction,’ Humphrey said. ‘I heard the pirates talking. They plan to invade the ocean liner the Porcelain Princess’

  ‘Ooh, how mean,’ Wither said, and he pursed his lips.

  ‘I knew those ghostly pirates were up to no good,’ Charlie said.

  ‘First thing’s first,’ Tabitha said. ‘The phantom pirates are flitting across the water. If we hide in the cabin, they might forget we’re here and wisp away.’

  ‘The door handle keeps evaporating,’ Agatha said, grasping desperately.

  ‘There’s nothing else for it,’ Charlie said. ‘We’ll have to pass through the wall.’

  ‘That’s easy for you to say,’ I said. ‘You’re the only ghosty who can pass through, Charlie.’

  ‘I’d bet any ghosty can pass through a wall as wispy as that,’ Charlie said.

  ‘I must say,’ Agatha said, ‘I do find the thought unnerving.’

  ‘You can do it,’ Charlie said, holding his trilby to his chest. ‘I pass through solid walls all the time, and this wall is as light and wispy as cloud.’

  ‘Charlie is right,’ Eleanor said. ‘Even a still-alive could pass through so wispy a wall.’

  Charlie passed through first, followed by Wither, then Humphrey, with the still-alive boy sat on his shoulders.

  ‘All girls together!’ Tabitha said, and she took my hand and Agatha’s hand, and Agatha held hands with Eleanor Wraith, and a moment later we found ourselves on the other side of the wispy wall.

  15

  Dressing Up

  ‘With so many pirates searching for us,’ Agatha said, peering out through the cabin window, ‘wherever we hide, they’re sure to find us.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Wither said, and he made that face like he’s chewing a wasp. ‘What if we dress up as pirates ourselves? This wispy ship is so laden with junk, there’s sure to be pirate clothing somewhere.’

  ‘There’s a coat stand behind the door,’ Eleanor said, ‘and this wispy wicker basket is stuffed full of pirate hats.’

  Before you could say ‘shipshape’, us seven frightfully friendly ghosties were dressed from head to transparent bits as mean-spirited, swashbuckling pirates. Ooh-arrr!

  ‘What about me?’ the still-alive boy said. ‘I can’t wear a ghostly pirate outfit. And if I don’t dress as a pirate, the real ghost pirates will recognise me, and they’ll make me walk the plank.’

  ‘Not if we have anything to do with it,’ I said, sounding quite brave, I thought.

  But then the wall parted like a phantom curtain, and I lost my nerve and hid behind Wither’s eyepatch.

  ‘Ooh-arrr!’ the pirates cried as I peered out. There were an awful lot of them – pirates from Captain Mean-Beard’s crew and Elizabethan pirates in those lovely old-fashioned costumes, all baring their teeth.

  Charlie doffed his pirate hat. ‘Yo ho ho,’ he said politely. ‘And, um, a bottle of fizzy ginger pop.’

  ‘You lot are stowaways,’ one of the Elizabethan pirates growled.

  ‘Actually, we’re not,’ Tabitha said.

  ‘We’re pirates, like you ‘orrible lot,’ Humphrey said, and he gave the pirate a bump.

  ‘And this still-alive boy is our prisoner,’ Agatha said.

  ‘If you’re pirates,’ one of Captain Mean-Beard’s crew said, ‘sing us a sea shanty, to prove it.’

  ‘I know a terrific sea shanty,’ Eleanor whispered. ‘I read about sea shanties while researching for my second novel, The Wave Doth Tumble?’

  ‘Oh, what a poignant title!’ Wither crooned, and I wisped out from behind the eyepatch as his eyes filled with tears.

  ‘Away, ho, away!’ Eleanor sang. ‘Away, away, ahoy!’

  One of the Elizabethan pirates rubbed his crooked nose with his hook hand. ‘Is that it?’

  ‘I’ll sing it again if you like,’ Eleanor said.

  The pirates were just drawing their cutlasses when the wardrobe door creaked open and out tumbled a ghostly white parrot.

  ‘Ooh-arr!’ the pirates cried as the parrot flapped around the cabin.

  The funny thing was, the parrot took a shine to Wither.

  ‘Get off me!’ Wither cried as the bird perched on the top of his pirate hat. ‘I’m allergic to feathers. AAA-CHOOOO!’

  ‘Let’s leave ’em to it,’ one of the Elizabethan pirates growled. ‘If these mad ghosties aren’t pirates, I’ll eat my pirate hat.’

  16

  Force-Ten Gale

  We watched through the cabin window as the pirates wisped high over the waves, back to the Raggy Dolly.

  ‘We’re not out of trouble yet,’ Wither said. ‘There’s a gale blowing in. And if we don’t reach the Porcelain Princess before those meanspirited pirates, the holler-days of thousands of still-alive families will be ruined.’

  ‘My mum and dad are on that ocean liner,’ the still-alive boy said.

  ‘Look!’ Agatha said, peering out through the cabin’s wispy window. ‘The Raggy Dolly has set sail.’

  ‘And in this wind it’s sure to move at a terrific pace,’ Tabitha said.

  ‘If this storm is so fierce,’ Wither said as the phantom parrot pecked his nose, ‘why are we not moving?’

  ‘You have to stow the anchor,’ the boy said. ‘We learnt about sailing ships at school.’

  we flitted about the ship until we found the ghostly wooden winch. As we turned the haunted handle, the wispy rope grew thinner and thinner, then faded into nothing.

  ‘This ghost ship is so old,’ Agatha said once we had gathered on the top deck, ‘it has started to evaporate.’

  ‘Now we know why the Elizabethan pirates were so keen to commandeer the Raggy Dolly,’ Tabitha said.

  ‘We must reach the ocean liner before we run out of boat,’ Wither said, the wind howling through his ears. ‘Quite how we go about it, I have no idea.’

  ‘Hoist the mainsail!’ Humphrey said as the still-alive boy clung to his shoulders. ‘And, um, do something with the rigging!�


  We did just that.

  Fortunately the ghost ship was lighter than the Raggy Dolly, so we soon caught up with the pirates.

  ‘Ahoy there!’ we called as our floaty boat wisped past, the sails billowing like Wither’s long johns on the washing line.

  The storm grew fiercer, and it wasn’t long before the ocean liner appeared on the horizon.

  ‘There she blows!’ Charlie cried, holding onto his pirate hat. ‘The Porcelain Princess, in all her glory.’

  ‘Let’s hope we reach it,’ Tabitha said, ‘while our ghost ship is still ship-shaped.’

  17

  The Porcelain Princess

  As we dropped anchor, the still-alive passengers ran into their cabins, waving their arms above their heads.

  ‘They’re waving at us, to say hello,’ Tabitha said.

  ‘It is the polite thing to do,’ Charlie said, doffing his pirate hat.

  ‘If the still-alives are so happy to see us,’ I said, a little shyly, ‘why have they gone inside?’

  ‘They’ll be out again in a moment,’ Tabitha said. ‘I expect they’re combing their hair, or putting on their best clothes.’

  We waited in the blustery breeze for a minute or so, but the still-alives remained in their cabins.

  ‘Perhaps someone warned the holler-day makers about the pirates,’ Agatha said.

  ‘No, that’s not it,’ the still-alive boy said. ‘People who are still alive find ghosts frightening. The passengers ran into their cabins to hide.’

  ‘How mean!’ Wither said as the parrot flapped its wings.

  ‘I don’t know why they’d be afraid of us,’ I said. ‘We’re frightfully friendly.’

  While we floated around the ghost ship, trying to decide what to do, we barely noticed the Raggy Dolly drop anchor alongside the Porcelain Princess. The pirates drew their cutlasses and wisped across the tumbling waves.

  ‘Oh dear,’ Wither said, plucking ghostly feathers from his pirate blouse. ‘What are we to do?’

  ‘It’s too late to warn the passengers now,’ Agatha said.

  If the still-alives were afraid of us friendly ghosties, the sight of the phantom pirates terrified them.

  ‘Help!’ the still-alive passengers cried. ‘Help!’

  We heard a SPLOSH, then another and another, as lifeboats hit the surface of the water.

  ‘The still-alives are trying to escape,’ Agatha said.

  The pirates flitted down from the ocean liner’s deck and wisped around the lifeboats.

  ‘And now the pirates are rounding them up,’ Tabitha said.

  ‘Does their meanness know no bounds?’ Wither said, and he sneezed.

  By now, our ghost ship resembled little more than a blob of cloud.

  ‘We’d better float aboard,’ Tabitha said, ‘before it’s too late.’

  ‘The phantoms won’t harm us,’ Charlie said. ‘Not while we’re disguised as pirates.’

  Humphrey lifted the still-alive boy onto his shoulders and we wafted over to the deck of the Porcelain Princess. When we looked back, our ghost ship had vanished.

  ‘What are you doing with that still-alive boy?’ one of the Elizabethan pirates growled.

  Tabitha shrugged. ‘Um . . .’

  ‘All prisoners are to be kept below deck,’ the pirate yelled, his earrings jangling in the breeze.

  ‘That,’ Wither said, ‘is precisely where we intend to take him. AAACHOOOO!’

  18

  Cabins and Corridors

  ‘What a beautiful boat,’ Wither whispered as we floated below deck, the parrot pecking his left ear.

  ‘Look at that lampshade,’ Agatha hummed, gazing up at the ceiling. ‘Like hundreds of glass tears.’

  ‘It’s a chandelier,’ Eleanor whispered back. ‘I have one just like it in my downstairs loo.’

  ‘This is no time to be admiring the decor,’ I whispered. ‘We have to rescue the stillalives.’

  ‘Yes, and fast,’ Eleanor whispered, scrawling in her notebook. ‘I’ve never seen so many unhappy faces.’

  ‘I’m not surprised that the still-alives are unhappy,’ Tabitha whispered. ‘One minute you’re enjoying a summer holler-day, the next a bunch of phantom pirates poke you with their cutlasses and order you into the dining saloon.’

  We waited till the pirates had wisped up to the top deck, then lowered the still-alive boy to his feet. ‘It’s nice to be able to walk again,’ the boy said. ‘On posh carpet too.’

  Of course, the still-alives thought we were real pirates. ‘Don’t worry,’ the boy would tell them as we passed. ‘These ghosts are my friends.’

  ‘We’re not actually pirates at all,’ Charlie would say, and he’d doff his pirate hat and wink.

  ‘Ghosties we may be,’ Wither would add, ‘but we’re frightfully friendly.’

  We stopped by a grand piano, with a posh old lady cowering beneath. ‘Excuse me, madam,’ Charlie said, ‘but could you tell us where we might find the ship’s Captain?’

  ‘They’re – they’re holding the poor chap p-prisoner in a broom cupboard,’ the old lady stammered. ‘Follow that corridor, and turn left at the painting of the Titanic.’

  We passed a dozen doors before we found one with a gold sign reading BROOM CUPBOARD. The still-alive boy tried to open the door, but it was locked.

  ‘The poor man looks frightened out of his wits,’ Tabitha said, peering through the keyhole. ‘Pass through, Charlie. Tell him we’re here to help.’

  Charlie Vapour doffed his hat – the polite thing to do – and passed through the door.

  The rest of us put our ears to the wood.

  ‘Please do forgive the intrusion,’ we heard Charlie say. ‘The fact is, I’m not a pirate at all.’

  ‘Aargh!’ the Captain screamed. ‘Keep away from me, spirit!’

  ‘A ghosty I may be,’ Charlie said, ‘but I’m frightfully friendly.’

  ‘These ghosts are my friends,’ the still-alive boy yelled through the keyhole. ‘They rescued me from the pirate ship, and they’re here to rescue you and every passenger on this ocean liner.’

  ‘I have to admit,’ the Captain said to Charlie, ‘you’re too polite to be a pirate. You’ll find a spare key on the hook by the painting of the Titanic‘.

  The still-alive boy ran back to the painting and lifted the key from the hook.

  A moment later, the ship’s Captain, a round man with a neat orange beard, stood blinking in the open doorway. ‘I hope you have a plan,’ he said, straightening his cap.

  ‘I’m not sure that we do,’ Tabitha said.

  19

  Garlic Wafts

  Wither wrinkled his nose. ‘What’s that wafty smell? It’s coming from the other side of this air vent.’

  The Captain led us down the corridor to a door with a sign reading CARGO.

  ‘Garlic,’ the Captain said, opening the door. ‘Tonight was to be the night of the Porcelain Princess’s Annual Garlic Festival. These ten crates are packed with fresh garlic bulbs.’

  The seven of us ghosties held our noses. GARLIC, read the words painted on the crates. HANDLE WITH CARE.

  ‘If you think it smells now,’ the Captain said, ‘you wait till we unpack it.’

  ‘Ghosties hate garlic,’ Tabitha explained.

  The Captain shrugged. ‘Garlic is said to ward off evil spirits.’

  ‘It wards off friendly spirits too,’ Agatha said.

  A man in a checked suit came racing down the corridor, holding a leather case in his left hand. He squeezed past the Captain’s tummy and sprinted off towards a stairwell.

  ‘Who’s that man?’ the boy asked.

  ‘Him? That’s Harold Unwhiff, the nose-plug salesman,’ the Captain said. ‘Mr Unwhiff is a millionaire. I expect he bribed the pirates to let him go free, and he’s running away before they change their mind.’

  ‘If that man is a nose-plug salesman,’ Charlie said, adjusting his cufflinks, ‘that case will be full of nose plugs.’

  Harold
Unwhiff was about to disappear up the stairs when we heard the loudest SPLASH you could ever imagine.

  ‘What in the name of my auntie’s bloomers was that?’ Harold said, backing away from the stairs.

  ‘Only one thing on this ocean liner could make a splash as loud as that,’ the Captain said. ‘The engine!’

  The Captain led us ghosties and the still-alive boy down several corridors to a door with a sign reading ENGINE ROOM.

  ‘Oh my!’ the Captain cried as he opened the door. ‘Those phantom pirates have hauled out the engine and pushed it overboard.’

  ‘Why would they do that?’ I said.

  ‘The pirates want to turn this ocean liner into a floating pirate hotel,’ Humphrey said. ‘I heard them talking about it.’

  ‘We need a plan,’ Tabitha said.

  Wither rubbed his chin. ‘Let’s see. We’re trapped on an ocean liner with ten crates of garlic and a case of sample nose plugs. Hmm.’

  ‘Well?’ the Captain said impatiently. Any ‘ideas? ’

  ‘The answer is obvious,’ Wither said. ‘We feed the garlic to the seagulls, then write HELP on the nose plugs and fling them into the sea.’

  ‘Wither, that’s a terrible idea,’ Charlie said. ‘Do you have any ideas, Pamela?’

  ‘Only one,’ I said shyly. ‘We could use the garlic to frighten away the phantom pirates. If we block our nostrils with the nose plugs, the garlic won’t affect us.’

  ‘Another clever plan from Pamela Fraidy!’ Charlie said, and he doffed his hat.

  I was about to point out that the plan would only work if we could find Harold Unwhiff, when Harold came running down the corridor, quite out of breath.

  ‘Ah, just the man,’ the Captain said. ‘Harold, we need your help.’

  ‘Can’t stop!’ Harold said between puffs. ‘I’m running from the phantom pirates.’

  As the salesman turned a corner, his briefcase popped open and several nose plugs rolled onto the carpet.

  ‘You don’t need to run from these phantoms,’ the Captain told the salesman. ‘The pirate outfits are a disguise.’

 

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