by Jon Scieszka
While he was reaching, Fred slid down the trunk of his tree and jumped to the sand. “Don’t shoot! That’s my hat.”
The pirate whirled around and aimed the pistols at Fred. “Yarrr, this island be haunted, sure. They’re dropping from the trees. Quick, lad, how many more of your kind up there?”
“Two,” said Fred.
“Three against one? Why, those are the best odds I’ve had in a long time.” He tucked away one pistol and drew his cutlass. “Call out the rest of your spying monkeys. Let’s fight to the death and the Devil take the hindmost.”
Suddenly Sam spoke up. “But we can’t fight you.”
The pirate squinted up into the trees. “What’s that? What do you mean you can’t fight? Why in Hades not?”
“We can’t fight you because ... uhh ... because we’d lose our Magicians’ License,” said Sam.
“What?”
“Yeah, that’s it,” said Fred. “We’re magicians—magicians from another time, and it’s against Magic Rules for us to mess with anyone because we are so powerful.”
“Magicians, eh?” The pirate itched his chin with the barrel of his pistol. “I’m a bit of a magician myself. See that coconut? I’ll make it disappear.” He fired his pistol. The coconut Fred had been sitting behind exploded in a shower of milk and shredded coconut.
The giant pirate laughed a scary, crazy laugh. “Now get your magic selves down here where I can see you.”
Sam and I started down as fast as we could.
“Thanks, Sam,” I said.
“And you best have some stronger magic than that,” he yelled, “or you’ll be disappearing, too. Har, har, har.”
“Thanks a whole lot, Sam.”
At ground level, the guy looked even bigger, meaner, and uglier than from above. He did have some smoking rope hanging in his hair. He did have pigtails in his beard. And he did have crazy-looking red eyes. The pirate slung his pistols and looked the three of us over with those eyes. He lifted Fred’s hat from the sand on the tip of his cutlass and jabbed it at him.
“So you three pips are magicians from another time, are ye?”
He stared at Fred in his baseball uniform. Thin wisps of smoke curled up around his three-cornered hat. “And does everyone dress this funny in your time?”
Fred pulled on his hat and muttered, “Look who’s talking.”
“What was that, lad?”
“Oh, I said ... enough talking.”
“Right you are,” said the pirate, towering over us. “So let’s see some magic. Otherwise I might be thinking you were just spying on me and looking to steal a bit of me buried treasure.” He smiled his nasty smile again. “And if I thought that, I’d have to kill you right now.”
Fred gulped. “Uh.... Eenie, meenie, mynie, mo. Catch a pirate by the toe. If he hollers, let him go. Eenie, meenie, mynie, mo!” Fred pointed to Sam. “Sam will now show you his powerful magic!”
The pirate wasn’t smiling anymore.
Sam stepped forward on wobbly legs.
“Uh ... hi, there, uh ... Mr. Blackbeard,” said Sam. ,
The pirate’s dark face went suddenly white. “How do you know my name?”
“I read it,” Sam said.
“Where’s your crystal ball?”
“Oh, I don’t need one. I even know your real name.”
“Do you now?” Blackbeard looked around, then bent forward. “And what might it be?”
“Edward Teach.”
Blackbeard staggered back a step and looked over his shoulder. “The Devil you say. You lads are magic.”
My uncle Joe always says to work the crowd when you’ve got them believing. I saw my chance to impress Blackbeard even more with our “magic.”
“And what’s that in your boot?” I said.
The big pirate looked down and jumped. “What? What?”
I reached around his boot and held up a quarter.
Blackbeard snatched it out of my hand and gave it a close look. “What strange doubloon is this? That wasn’t in my boot before.”
Blackbeard stared at the quarter in his hand.
“You mean you lads can use your magic to pull pieces of eight right out of the air?”
“Oh, sure,” said Fred. “That’s nothing for powerful magicians like us. We could do that all day long.”
“Could you now?” Blackbeard looked us over carefully.
We took a step back.
“I could use a few mates with your talents.”
The three of us began to back away slowly.
Blackbeard slid his cutlass into his belt and put the quarter in his pocket. “Why don’t you join me aboard my new ship?”
“Oh, we’d love to, but I have a ... a ... a big history report due Monday,” said Sam.
“I call her the Queen Anne’s Revenge.” Blackbeard pulled another loaded pistol from his endless collection and pointed it between my eyes. “Do you think that’s a nice name?”
I looked down the barrel of the biggest pistol I’ve ever seen.
“That’s a very nice name,” I said.
“Its previous owner ran into a bit of trouble ... if you know what I mean.”
Sam looked down the length of the cutlass. “I know what you mean.”
“Would you like to join me on board then?”
Fred looked at Sam and me.
“We’d love to.”
We marched down to the rowboat—the pirate ship anchored in the bay before us; Blackbeard, his loaded pistols, and his awful voice behind us.
Come all you bold pirates what follows the sea,
To me way, hay, blow the man down,
Just get me some magic and treasure for me,
And give me some time to blow the man down ...
“Pirates didn’t really make guys walk the plank, did they?” asked Fred.
“Nah, that’s just in the movies,” I answered, hoping it was true.
FIVE
Aaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!”
“Heads up, lads,” yelled Blackbeard.
We grabbed the rope ladder and flattened ourselves against the side of the Queen Anne’s Revenge.
A blindfolded man fell past us. He landed with a splash and then disappeared beneath the waves.
Fred turned as white as the guy’s blindfold.
“Blast it all,” growled Blackbeard. “If that sea-rat crew of mine walked all the prisoners off the plank, I’m going to have to cut off some heads. Up you go, lads.”
We climbed up the side of the ship so fast we didn’t even have time to be afraid. But there was plenty of time for that once we climbed over the rail and stood on deck. Because there, eyeing us like hungry sharks, were at least a hundred black, white, and every different shade of brown, pirates.
I didn’t see any wooden legs, earrings, eye patches, or hooks. But I saw as many daggers, knives, swords, cutlasses, and pistols as you’d ever want to see.
The owners of this dangerous collection of hardware and the three of us stood frozen, staring at each other wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Then Blackbeard jumped over the rail behind us.
“Israel! Israel Hands!” yelled Blackbeard. “You scumbucket, low-life, fish-bait son of a wharf rat first mate—what in the name of the Devil’s hind end is going on here?”
A long-haired pirate stepped forward. “Just a bit of fun to pass the time, Captain.”
“Bit of fun?!” yelled Blackbeard. “You bilge water-brained idiots! Those prisoners were worth their weight in gold ransom! You just walked a fortune off the plank for a bit of fun?!”
Blackbeard stomped back and forth. He slashed the air with his cutlass, and swore a five-minute string of curses (too nasty to be written down in any book) at his first mate and crew.
“And now I might ask you barnacles for brains—where might we find our next treasure?”
The first mate and the wild band of cutthroats looked at their feet.
Fred, Sam, and I did our best to shrink into the background.
Blackbear
d drove the point of his cutlass into the deck with a loud thunk.
Blackbeard looked out over his crew.
Then he smiled that devilish smile.
“I’ll tell you where we get treasure, mates.”
The crew looked up.
“I’ll tell you where we get more treasure than a king’s ransom, more treasure than El Dorado, more treasure than all the gold on these Seven Seas.”
“All right,” said Fred. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Blackbeard pulled his cutlass out of the deck and pointed it at us. “There.”
We gasped.
The crew murmured.
“Who’d pay anything for those three?”
“They look sickly to me.”
“That’s one’s a prisoner. Look, he’s still got a number on his shirt.”
Blackbeard smiled. “Gentlemen, we are about to become retired pirates. No more long, boring sea voyages. No more fighting for measly treasures. No more dodging the King’s warships. And no more worries about ending your days swinging from the end of a hangman’s noose.”
I started to get what Blackbeard was leading up to.
I started to get a serious stomachache.
“These three lads may look a mite strange,” continued Blackbeard. “That’s because they are. They are time-traveling magicians. And they can pull doubloons out of thin air.”
The crew roared.
“Show the magic,” said Blackbeard, and he stuck one of his huge boots forward.
“All right, Joe,” whispered Sam. “Stall them with your quarter trick. We’ll think of something.”
“I don’t have it,” I said.
“What do you mean you don’t have it?” said Fred.
“My quarter, I don’t have it. Blackbeard took it, back at the beach.”
We all dug into our pockets. Not a penny.
I tried to think of another trick that might work. Pick a card? These guys didn’t look much like card players. The disappearing quarter? No, it had already disappeared.
“Heave ho,” yelled a member of the audience. “Out with the magic, already.”
“Ladies and gentleman,” I began, stalling for time. “Well, I guess just gentleman, really. Maybe I should say fellows. But that really doesn’t sound much like the beginning of a magic show. I always like to start my magic shows with ‘Ladies and gentlemen.’ So does my uncle Joe, now that I think of it—”
“Stow the gab,” yelled a coal-black guy with a knife.
“Rarzzerfrazzerrowwowarrrgh,” added his friend with a pistol in his belt.
I broke out in a sweat.
The already-ugly crowd got uglier.
“Fake!”
“Forget the pieces of eight,” said a nasty-looking one-armed fellow. “Let’s see some real magic. Let’s see if they can fly off the plank! All in favor, say ‘Aye.’ ”
The yell that went up from the crew was the loudest (and scariest) “Aye” I’ve ever heard.
“You’re not feeding me to the sharks,” yelled Fred, and he made a break for it. He jumped up the rigging and started to climb. A pirate with a white scar running from where his ear should have been to his chin, grabbed Fred’s foot and threw him down to the deck with a laugh.
“Now, just a minute,” said Sam. “You can’t just toss innocent people overboard.”
“Brethren-of-the-Coast Rules, mate,” said Blackbeard. “We all votes to decide what goes. The captain only gives the orders in battle. Show your magic, or walk the plank.”
“But—” said Sam.
And in seconds, the three of us were standing on a plank, hands tied, twenty feet above the deep blue water.
“Bring the blindfolds,” said Blackbeard.
“Some movie,” said Fred.
SIX
We can’t die,” said Fred. ”This is supposed to be magic. Joe, say one of those spells or something quick.”
I closed my eyes and tried to remember The Industrial-Strength Time Freezer Spell.
Hey, diddle diddle,
The cat and the fiddle.
The cow now stops the moon.
I opened my eyes. For just a second, everything fuzzed out of focus like a cheap TV set. I thought I saw a bit of green mist swirling on the ocean. No such luck.
Then the lookout sang out from above, “Sail off the port bow! Sail off the port bow!”
Blackbeard looked through a spyglass. “She’s flying the British colors. One of the King’s warships out fishing for pirates.” Blackbeard lowered the spyglass and laughed. “Looks like we’re in for a fight. Cast off the anchor, Mr. Hands. Hoist sail and run right at ’em. Load cannon on both sides, and we’ll meet our friends with a broadside on whichever side they turn.”
The first mate went into action, yelling stuff that sounded like English, but didn’t make much sense. “Drop the deadman! Hoist top, main, and royal! Load and tackle batteries port and starboard!”
The men swarmed all over the deck and rigging, pulling ropes, lifting sails, loading cannons. Blackbeard leaned his elbows on the rail and watched the approaching ship.
There was a jolly pirate,
He sailed upon the sea.
He packed his cannons full, boys,
And met the King’s na-vy.
“And Mr. Hands—stow our magicians in the aft hold. We’ll tend to them later.”
The first mate pushed Sam, Fred, and me toward the back of the boat.
Some of the men were rolling big brass cannons up to hatches in the side of the ship and tying them down with ropes and pulleys. Others were soaking blankets and draping them over the sides and all around a small cabin on deck.
“Oh, this is a fine time to be washing blankets,” said Sam. “We’re about to be attacked by the King’s Navy, and these guys are doing their laundry.”
“That’s the powder magazine they’re wetting down, lad. If that gunpowder catches fire and blows, none of us ever needs do our laundry again.”
Mr. Hands laughed, opened a hatch in the deck, and shoved us in. The three of us tumbled down some narrow steps and landed in a heap.
“Ow,” said Sam.
“We are definitely in trouble now,” I said.
“Yeah, thanks to Fred, Time-Traveling Treasure Hunter, here,” said Sam, “we’re trapped in Blackbeard’s hold with a British warship about to blast us out of time and space.”
“Blackbeard won’t get caught. He’s a famous historical person,” said Fred.
“Great,” said Sam. “If we don’t get blasted out of the water or hanged for being pirates, we’ll get to walk the plank.”
“So?” said Fred.
“So?” yelled Sam. “You got us into this whole buried treasure mess and all you can say is ‘So?’ ”
“Guys, guys,” I said. “Our only hope is to find The Book. We have to think. Where would it be?”
We sat quietly in the smelly, dark hold and tried to think.
Cannons rolled and men shouted overhead. The ship rocked.
“I’ve got it,” said Sam. “The captain’s quarters. That’s where they always keep the ship’s log and maps and things.”
“That’s got to be it,” I said.
“Let’s go,” said Fred.
“I think you’re forgetting a few things,” I said.
“Like: our hands are tied, the hold is locked, the ship is covered with pirates, and we don’t even know where the captain’s quarters are.”
We could feel the ship roll and pick up speed.
“Well, it’s a good thing some of us came prepared.” Sam held up two pieces of rope in one hand and his Swiss army knife in the other.
“All right!” said Fred. “We’re out of here.”
Fred jumped up the stairs and pushed his back against the hatch. “Come on and push, you guys. I think we can spring it.”
Cannons boomed above us and rocked the ship sideways.
“If we get out of this alive, Fred,” said Sam, “I’m going to kill you.”
/> We were halfway up the steps when we heard the return cannonfire from the British ship. Three seconds later, everything exploded.
Light and smoke and noise poured in. Up above, men were screaming, yelling, and groaning. I sat up and threw a splintered board off my leg. “Are you guys okay?”
“Ow,” said Sam.
Fred, stretched out face down at the foot of the steps, didn’t say anything.
SEVEN
Sam stared at Fred’s motionless form.
Guns and cannons fired. The ship rolled.
“Fred, I didn’t mean it,” said Sam. “Fred, are you okay? Speak to us. I promise I’ll never say anything mean to you ever again.”
Sam lifted a board off Fred’s back.
“Ow,” said Fred.
Sam punched him. “You moron. We thought you were dead.”
Fred sat up and rubbed the back of his head. “Nah. It takes more than a cannonball to knock off a time-traveling magician.”
Up where the hatch used to be, now there was a jagged hole. We could see smoke, sails, and sky.
“Let’s get out of here and go find The Book,” I said.
Sam looked up and gave his glasses a push up his nose. “On second thought, maybe we should just wait it out down here.”
Fred and I pushed him up the stairs.
The hold was noisy, but up on deck was like a scene from hell. The smoke and smell of gunpowder was everywhere. The full crew of some two hundred pirates swarmed all over the ship. Some were throwing buckets of water to put out small fires on the deck and in the sails. Others rolled the cannons back to load them. Still others were up in the rigging, cutting free damaged lines and sails. Guys with muskets lined the rail on one side and kept up a steady stream of fire at the British ship blasting through the sea alongside. Bullets and metal pieces zinged by, ripping holes in the sails, shredding rope, and splintering wood.
Sam’s idea to wait out the battle in the hold suddenly seemed like a great one.
We crouched behind a stack of barrels. Sam pointed to a small door at the very back of the ship. “The captain’s quarters.”