The pirates were launching themselves onto the deck of the Valiant, cutlasses in their teeth and fierce glints in their eyes. Landing almost directly in front of Alex was a small man with greasy, red hair who looked strangely familiar. He was carrying a large hammer in his hand. His whole body was covered with deep scars, and he was laughing wildly at nothing in particular. Alex ducked low, and he went off to join the fray.
Fighting had broken out all over the ship. Francesca was battling it out with a large man nearly twice her size, and De Wit was facing two men, the one with the red hair and the hammer, and another dressed in a white suit that the playwright Oscar Wilde might have quite liked.
At the bow of the ship, Captain Magnanimous had no fewer than eight men in his sights and was finally given some relief by O’Connell, who had passed the helm over to Shakespeare. Meanwhile, Tanaka was confusing his foe by performing a series of flips across the length of the deck.
Alex felt out of her element and entirely useless. She wanted to help her friends, but at the same time she realized that her trying to help would probably have the opposite effect. She was also incredibly scared and really couldn’t think of a single thing that she could do. Her only chance was to weather this particular storm and hope she would go unnoticed.
Alas, my friend, this was not to be. She had tried to keep as quiet as possible so that she would remain relatively invisible, but there was very little she could do about her smell. Because you can be quieter, and hide behind something to be less visible, but you can’t turn down your smell, at least not without taking a bath. And that is how Alex suddenly found herself face to face with a large, gray, drooling bear of a dog, growling softly.
“Oh, hello,” she said quietly. She stuck out a hand for it to sniff, but it snapped at her. “Easy, boy,” she said with a quiver in her voice, “easy.” The dog moved toward her slowly. Alex was quite cornered behind the stairs. It growled more loudly, revealing its long, sharp teeth. And it is fair to suppose that it most probably would have torn poor Alex to shreds had not a very loyal, and slightly seasick, friend come to her rescue. With the ferocity of a small tiger, Giggles exploded out of the hatch and, claws unsheathed, jumped onto the dog’s back. It yelped pathetically. But then it turned its full concentration on Giggles, and thus began a fierce battle.
Her fear for Giggles’s safety was momentarily stalled when Alex looked past where the dog had been. Alex let out a gasp. Out of the white fog that had once more blanketed the entire ship stepped forward a dark figure. A man, tall, lean, and fierce, was walking with large strides purposefully right toward her. How he knew where he was going, Alex had not the faintest idea, for wrapped around his face and head was a dark-black silk cloth. Instantly she recognized the terrifying figure from the photograph her uncle had taken moments before his death. It suddenly clicked that he was also the same character whose face she’d been trying to see in her nightmares. Alex pinched herself, hoping against hope that a dream was all that this was. She didn’t wake up, though. Because she wasn’t asleep.
As if in a trance, Alex stood to meet the man. He stopped right in front of her and for a moment time stood still. And then the man asked softly, “Alex?”
“Yes.”
The man raised one of his hands and placed it around Alex’s neck. Now I am sure you remember from the beginning of the book that this very dangerous man had hands made of wood. Well, if you don’t, this very dangerous man had hands made of wood. The grip they afforded him was so solid and unbreakable that it allowed him to close his fingers right around her neck and to lift Alex up by her chin without strangling her.
The man let out a whistle, and the gray dog, who had by now overcome poor Giggles, stopped instantly and ran over to its master. Alex looked over at Giggles, who was lying in a small, furry lump, his small chest rising and falling with effort. She wanted to call out to him, but something was preventing her speech. As she was carried through the fighting, everything became a blur.
She heard yelling that the side was breached, and she saw De Wit held to the mast by a dagger through his hand. She could see Captain Magnanimous spinning to meet one new foe after the next, fighting them off with less dexterity than he had had at the beginning, sweat pouring down his face. O’Connell was cornered by the man with the hammer. And beyond that she saw Francesca, who had somehow managed to dispose of the massive creature that she had been sparring with, lying on the deck, her leg horribly injured. Their eyes met and Francesca gestured toward Alex, mouthing something. Alex squinted. With one last effort Francesca thrust her arm forward, and the words “Push the button” floated over the sounds of battle. Alex moved her eyes to see the large orange button pass by her head. Not knowing why, but because it was the only thing she could do to help, Alex pushed the button. And what happened was . . . nothing. She looked back at Francesca to apologize, but she was lying still, her head face down on the wood.
And all the while the pirate carrying her moved swiftly onward, until Alex was brought to the man in white, who had just thrown the Frenchman overboard. He turned around suddenly as if the man carrying her had said something to startle him.
“My dear fellow, what have you found?” he said, his voice nasal and thin.
“It’s done. Take her to the Captain,” replied the soft voice of her captor. He dropped Alex hard onto the deck and, with his dog, vanished back into the fog.
“Right, then,” said the man in white, giving a little sniff. “Jack!” he called to the man with the greasy, red hair who was fiercely scratching the back of his neck.
“Jack, Jack, Jack,” he replied happily.
“Get everyone together. The ship’s hull is stove in. Her floating days are over. The whole vessel will be with Davy Jones in less than fifteen minutes. And,” he grabbed Alex roughly by the back of her sweater, “we have the child.”
“Child!” said Jack. “Okeydokey!” He turned around. “Oi!” he called out to the pirates, who turned and understood.
The man in white shook his head and looked down at Alex and smiled. And quicker than you can say “This is not what was supposed to happen,” Alex was whisked back into the air, over the side of HMS Valiant, and onto the deck of the most notorious pirate ship this side of the equator. A ship whose crew was as ruthless as a person not named Ruth. A ship whose captain had never been seen. A ship that was called the Ironic Gentleman.
THE THIRTY-FIFTH CHAPTER
In which Alex meets the crew of the Ironic Gentleman.
It was really depressing sailing away on the Ironic Gentleman, watching HMS Valiant sinking lower and lower in the water and disappearing into the fog. I mean, how could it be otherwise? In very little time HMS Valiant would cease to exist, as would the many people who had been so helpful and so nice to Alex. And that is a super-depressing thing to happen. But even more depressing than that was that, realized Alex, it was all her fault.
It was because of her that HMS Valiant had set sail. And it was because of her that they were attacked. It was because she was cornered that Giggles had tried to save her and wound up dying on a sinking ship. The thought of Giggles made tears form in the corners of her eyes. How she missed him already. He would have scratched the pirate in white’s eyes out—that would have surprised him! But now Giggles was gone; it was unbelievable. He was gone. Like everything and everyone else. And it was all her fault. Alex was secretly grateful that the pirate dressed in white was dragging her along the deck so forcefully, because she didn’t think she would have been able to take a step on her own. The sadness practically paralyzed her. She looked up at the pirate in white, his appearance blurred by the tears in her eyes.
The pirate in white was called Sir Geoffrey and was known by the rest of the crew as a dandy. A dandy is a man who cares very much about how he is dressed, thinks an awful lot about himself, and attempts to say witty things. Unfortunately, though, Sir Geoffrey was neither witty nor a knight. He was a decent pirate and an even better navigator, had good math skills, and
could delegate. In fact, he had many qualities that were much more useful and more interesting than those belonging to a dandy, and for that reason he had been elected quartermaster. He would also have been well liked if he hadn’t felt obliged to pretend to be something he so clearly wasn’t.
“Well, well, well,” said a strangely familiar voice. Alex looked ahead to see a large man with a bushy beard, bowler hat, and monocle emerge from the hatches before her and trip on the top step. He turned and cursed loudly down the hatch, then he returned his gaze to Alex. As he came close, she noticed he was wearing white surgical gloves that, to her disgust, were covered in blood. “We meet again,” he said, peeling the gloves off and tossing them overboard. “Do you remember me, Alex?” And he turned his head to peer at her through the monocle.
“You were at the house on the hill,” said Alex, astonished. And then she realized something else. “You’re one of the ones in the picture, too!”
“Picture? What picture?”
Alex stopped talking. It suddenly occurred to her that her picture was evidence, proof that he had kidnapped Mr. Underwood. She didn’t want anything to happen to it. And then, to her horror, she remembered that the picture was in her bag, which was on the Valiant, which was now at the bottom of the sea. As subtly as she could, she felt for the toothbrush holder, which, to her relief, was still firmly in her pocket.
“Would you like me to take over?” asked the bearded man.
“I don’t think that is necessary just yet, Dr. Brunswick,” said Sir Geoffrey, wrinkling his nose. “I think we should take her to the captain first. And if the captain can’t get anywhere with her, then, maybe, we could turn her over to you.”
Now I really hate it when someone talks about me as if I’m not in the room when I clearly am. And of course, so did Alex. She also really didn’t like the way in which these pirates were talking, which sounded suspiciously like they had some unpleasant plans for her. So that made her doubly uneasy. But then suddenly she had a stroke of genius. All this time she thought she was a goner. Here she was on this ship with a particular map that a certain captain was desperate to have, and she assumed that everybody must have been aware of it. But it was obvious from the conversation between the two pirates that they weren’t certain that she had it. Maybe she could convince them that they had made a horrible, horrible mistake.
“Um,” she said. The two pirates looked at her. “What exactly am I doing here?” she asked. She raised her eyebrows and looked as innocent as she could without feeling ridiculous. The pirates continued to look at her and then, both at the same time, burst into laughter.
“Very clever,” sneered Sir Geoffrey. “But not all that clever. We know more than you think. Isn’t that right, Dr. Brunswick?”
Dr. Brunswick smiled and took off his monocle to rub it with the edge of his jacket. “Oh, the things we know, and the fun we’ve had in learning them,” he said. Alex remembered the bloody surgical gloves and gulped.
It was then that Alex noticed the crowd that had grown around her. She was startled to see the rest of the crew watching the interaction. She took a step backward. “Hello,” she said nervously.
“Hello!” waved Jack eagerly. “Hello! Hello!” And he scratched his ear fervently.
“How rude,” said Sir Geoffrey, looking around him and shaking his head in mock embarrassment. “I completely forgot! Please allow me to introduce you to some of the members of our crew here.” The crowd laughed quietly and tightened their circle.
“That enthusiastic greeter there is Jack Scratch.”
“Jack!” said Jack, and he pointed at his hammer. “Hammer!”
Alex smiled halfheartedly.
“And his hammer,” continued Sir Geoffrey with a sigh. “I believe you met him before. He’s our carpenter. He gets a bit overexcited by really almost anything, so we try not to make small talk with him. But he is excellent at taking orders. Jack!”
“Jack!” replied Jack.
“Stand on your head!”
“Jack!” he said again, and stood on his head.
“Let’s see . . . who else . . .” Sir Geoffrey wandered around the crowd thoughtfully scratching his chin. “This lovely lady is Boudicca,” he said, and a tall, curvaceous woman with short, dark-red hair nodded in Alex’s direction. “She is particularly adept at ripping people’s limbs off. And this,” he said, indicating something on the deck, “is No-KneeCaps Calvin.” The crowd parted to reveal a man lying on his front holding himself up by his arms in what many a yoga master would agree was the cobra position. “Quite useless, he is,” admitted Sir Geoffrey. “But freaky as heck.” The crowd closed around him again.
“My name is Sir Geoffrey. I am quartermaster—and fabulous,” he said taking a small bow. “And of course you’ve met Dr. Brunswick, ship’s surgeon—and other things.” Dr. Brunswick winked at Alex. “Unfortunately, the Wall was lost in battle. I doubt you would have liked him anyway. Really, I don’t know whom to introduce next.” He smiled at Alex. “Any preferences?” he stretched his arm out toward the crew, who looked at Alex eagerly.
Alex thought. “Actually,” she stopped. She wasn’t sure if she wanted the answer to her question.
“Go on,” said Sir Geoffrey.
“Uh . . . who is the guy with the scarf over his face?” she asked, looking around to see if he was nearby. But he was nowhere in sight.
The crew started to whisper to each other and slowly began to disperse, returning to their duties. Even Jack righted himself and scurried away muttering. Sir Geoffrey stood over Alex and frowned at her. “Senseless?” he asked.
“That’s Senseless?” Alex started, remembering Coriander’s description.
Sir Geoffrey’s eyes widened. “You’ve heard of him?”
“A friend of mine told me a bit about your crew,” said Alex, with a shrug.
“Ah, and who would this friend be?”
“Oh, I don’t think you would know him.”
“I insist.”
“His name is Coriander the Conjuror. He worked on the ship the Ill Repute, if you know it.”
“I do,” replied Sir Geoffrey, with a slight smile. “Well, no matter about this Coriander fellow. We were talking about Senseless.”
“Yes,” replied Alex. “Why does he cover his face like that? How can he see?”
Sir Geoffrey laughed. “The Baron Senslesky,” he said, “or Senseless, as he is more commonly known, is a very complicated individual. He’s first mate and not much of a talker. He’s not much of a sailor either. But he has an incredible ability to advise the Captain on exactly the right thing to do at exactly the right time. And he is incredibly, cruelly, violent.”
Alex nodded. “Good to know,” she said lightly. “So, um,” she looked around the near-deserted deck, “what now?”
“Now,” said Sir Geoffrey, “I take you to the Captain.”
“Right,” replied Alex. She suddenly found breathing an extremely difficult activity as she remembered what Coriander had told her. About how anyone who met Steele in person never lived to speak of him. “Is that really necessary?”
“Yes,” said Sir Geoffrey. “Yes, it is.” He escorted Alex across the deck to the Captain’s cabin. There isn’t much to say about this bit. They walked. Alex was extremely frightened. Sir Geoffrey was pleased to be getting her out of his hair, which he really wanted to restyle after having it all messed up fighting. Eventually they found themselves outside Steele’s door. Sir Geoffrey knocked. They waited for an answer. Then from inside they heard Steele call, “Enter!” Sir Geoffrey pushed open the door. It creaked slightly for effect, and suddenly Alex found herself in the very presence of the last person on earth she had ever wanted to meet.
THE THIRTY-SIXTH CHAPTER
In which Alex and the Captain meet.
Steele. The notorious Pirate Captain Steele the Inevitable was sitting at the head of a moderately sized dining table made of thick wood polished to a fine sheen. In front of the Captain was a meal fit for a king.
On Steele’s plate was a thick steak complemented by a pile of steaming mashed potatoes. Caramelized carrots stood in a bowl next to it, along with another bowl full of broccoli. There was also a pitcher of wine that had been half emptied. Perched next to it were the captain’s feet, the right crossed over the left.
Alex was more than shocked. But it wasn’t so much because she found herself face to face with Steele after all this time, or even Steele’s horrendous table manners (elbows on a table are rude enough, let alone boots you’ve been walking around in all day). No, the reason Alex was completely and utterly flabbergasted was that, after all the stories and everything she had heard, she just had never anticipated that Pirate Captain Steele the Inevitable would be a woman.
The complete impossibility that Steele could have been a woman struck Alex with more force than she had expected. Not that she had expected to be struck by such an impossibility, the impossibility not being possible in her mind until that very moment, but had she thought of the impossibility, then she would not have thought it would have affected her with such force.
. . .
Let me explain that better.
What I mean is this: Alex had always believed that boys and girls are capable of doing whatever they want to when they grow up. And had always assumed that every profession could be just as easily occupied by a man or a woman. But she supposed that she had always thought that pirate captains would be men. Captain Hook, for example, and Blackbeard. And it was the complete shift in the mental picture she had created that had caused the shock.
Alex and the Ironic Gentleman Page 19