The Pirate Code

by Heidi Schulz

  “Bob, get down from there this instant!” Jocelyn called, but her voice was lost in the sound of curses and crashing fists. “Roger, we have to stop this!”

  “Aye, Captain. I have an idea!” He stepped to a battered piano in a darkened corner, sat, and began to play. His notes rose above the brawling cacophony, and the fighting men paused and looked around.

  Roger began to sing:

  Oh, hi derry, hey derry, ho derry down,

  Give sailors their grog and there’s nothing goes wrong.

  It was like magic. The pirates stopped fighting immediately, even as their fists still hung in midair. Nearly everyone joined in for the next lines:

  So merry, so merry, so merry are we,

  No matter who’s laughing at sailors at sea!

  When the last note died down, Dirty Bob threw his broken bottle to the floor in disgust. “What the devil did I just witness? None of you are real pirates! Yer just a bunch of ladies in the church choir!”

  Before he could start up the fighting again, Jocelyn pulled a tattered scrap of sail, serving as a tablecloth, out from under him, sending the man tumbling to the ground. “That’s enough of that!” the girl commanded. “My crew, get back to the ship. Your furlough has been canceled.”

  “Wait just a minute there, missy.” A bearded giant of a man in a stained apron came around from the other side of the bar. He narrowed his eyes under a single bushy brow. “Take a look at this place.”

  There wasn’t a table left standing other than the one Dirty Bob was lying next to. Most of the chairs had been reduced to sticks and splinters. Broken glass and broken teeth littered the floor like confetti left over from the world’s worst birthday party. (Mine. Age seven.)

  Jocelyn nodded. “I see. But why should it be my concern?”

  “Because yer men started the affair.” He pointed a meaty finger at Bob. “Especially that one. Coming in here talking about how Cap’n Hook’s flag had been raised again and he and his mates were the only ones tough enough to sail under it. I warned him to take that kind of talk outside, but he just kept at it, challenging anyone who’d have him and his shipmates to a fight. We get a lot of rough talk in here, and most paid him no mind, but then he…”

  “What did he do?” Jocelyn turned to Bob. “What did you do?”

  No one answered for a moment; then a tremulous voice at the back of the crowd called out, “He insulted our mothers. We just couldn’t let that stand!”

  Jocelyn sighed. She would never understand the silly preoccupation with mothers that was so prevalent on the Neverland. On the other hand, she had once flown into a rage at Prissy Edgeworth, a horrible girl at school, for insulting her mother, so she could hardly blame the men for their reaction.

  The bartender continued, “Aye, insult ’em he did. It’s clear he’s responsible for this mess.” The man tilted his head, cracking the joints in his neck. If she hadn’t been there herself, Jocelyn would have never believed such menace could be packed into a little popping sound. “And you,” he went on, “are responsible for him. Make it right.”

  Jocelyn felt the dwindling pouch of gold at her waist. “I’m a bit light of doubloons at the moment—”

  “I’ll take what you have.” The bartender held out his hand, and Jocelyn dropped her remaining coins into it.

  Nubbins pushed a broken table off his chest, picking himself up from where he had fallen to the floor. He clapped the girl on the back and smiled with lips swollen and bruised. “Don’t worry, Captain, there’ll be enough gold to buy this place a hundred times over—and put in a shiny new kitchen—once we find Hook’s treasure! How did it go with the map?”

  She glared at him. “Stow that talk, Nubbins!” she whispered, her eyes darting around to see who might have overheard.

  In the back of the room, she caught a glimpse of a familiar, warty face. When Krueger had attacked her ship, a man that looked suspiciously like this one had nearly thrown her overboard. What was his name? Benito? Could they be one and the same?

  The girl wiped her palms on her skirt, heart thumping. “Let’s go, men. Back to the ship, now. Heave to!”

  They followed behind in sheepish silence.

  The thing about friends is, you never know when you might need them. It’s always best to keep them imprisoned nearby.

  Jocelyn had foolishly let her crew govern themselves, and look how that ended up. At least Meriwether didn’t let her down. He came darting out of the night practically the instant the girl called.

  “Meri,” she commanded, “fly on ahead and watch for trouble. If you see Captain Krueger, flash your light. You’ll know him by a hideous scar down the side of his face, a mouthful of pointy teeth, and a general air of spite surrounding him.”

  Meriwether chimed an emphatic (and somewhat saucy) yes, dear and flew into the night.

  Jocelyn’s stomach was full of knots—the really snarly kind Jim McCraig tied. If Krueger knew she had a map to her father’s treasure…She didn’t like to think of what he would do to take it from her.

  Still, she was the captain. And she had defeated the Neverland’s crocodile. Even her father hadn’t been able to do that. The girl squared her shoulders, stood tall, and turned to address her crew. She caught Roger’s eye. He nodded, giving her encouragement.

  The rest of the men stood in a subdued mob, nursing their wounds. She noticed that the parrot had accompanied them. It was settled on Jim McCraig’s shoulder and, at the moment, mercifully silent. “Men,” she said, “get your arms out—”

  “Aye, Captain! I may only possess one good arm—and I didn’t think it respectful to take on a hook of my own for the other—but I do have this standing at the ready!” Jack waved his suction cup on a stick.

  The strange appendage momentarily distracted Jocelyn from her commands. “But what is it?”

  “The man at the shop called it a ‘plunger.’ Don’t they have them in your When?”

  Since visitors to the Neverland came from many different times, the island was positively crowded with strange and wonderful artifacts that Jocelyn had never encountered at home. She regarded the “plunger.” “No. What’s it for?”

  Jack growled and thrust it forward, as if warding off a potential threat. “I think you plunge it into your enemies.”

  Mention of enemies reminded Jocelyn that she and her crew might be in danger. “All right then, Jack. Be ready with it, and everyone, be watchful.”

  There wasn’t much to see. The streets, fairly bustling with activity before, were deserted; the shop windows, shuttered.

  “I don’t like this, Jocelyn,” Roger said. “Where is everyone?” As he spoke, the gas lamps all blew out. The only light came from the cool, thin crescent moon, a clipped toenail in the sky. Ahead, Meriwether zigged and bobbed, too far away to offer any illumination.

  Gooseflesh erupted on Jocelyn’s arms. She gripped her sword tight in her fist. “Let’s get back to the ship.”

  They reached the dock at the edge of the village. Too late, Meriwether flashed his light. A man stepped from the shadows cast by the last of the village’s buildings. The knots in Jocelyn’s stomach tightened.

  The man pointed a crooked finger at them and shattered the silence with his voice. “There you lot are. Johnny and me, we was beginning to wonder where you had got to.”

  Jocelyn lowered her sword with relief, grateful to see Mr. Smee.

  He continued speaking, oblivious to the scare he had caused. “We’ve been seeing to the loading of the goods you men had delivered. On our own, I might add.” He stepped closer, catching sight of scrapes and bloodstains that even the pale light couldn’t hide. “Dear me! What the devil kind of mischief have you stirred up?”

  “Not now, Smee. We need to get back to the Hook’s Revenge. I think one of Krueger’s men has spotted us. And”—she gave Nubbins a pointed look—“he may have overheard something about the treasure.”

  “That he did,” a voice called from the deep shadows, “and I thank you and you
r bumbling crew for it.” A shiver crawled up Jocelyn’s spine and curled around the base of her neck. She knew that voice.

  Krueger.

  He stepped from the darkness, though it clung to him like a dirty smell. “I’ll be taking that map from you now, girlie.” The sliver of a moon illuminated the long, white scar disfiguring his face, the razor-sharp points of his teeth, and something Jocelyn hadn’t noticed before: his eyes, two dark tar pits, so black that not even the pupil was visible. The girl got the sense that terrible things hid in their depths.

  Roger stepped in front of Jocelyn. “There are eight of us, nine counting Meriwether”—the fairy clanged a series of curses—“and only one of you. We’ll fight to protect our captain.”

  Jocelyn pushed him gently aside and stepped next to him. “I’ll fight to protect myself, my crew, and the treasure. I defeated the Neverland crocodile on my own. You shouldn’t be much trouble.”

  Krueger whistled, and more men separated themselves from the shadows. He was now flanked by at least a dozen big pirates, Benito included. “Give me the map, child,” Krueger snarled.

  Jocelyn drew her sword. “Never!” She tried to sound confident, but judging from the brawl she had just witnessed, her men were no match for his. Still, she couldn’t—she wouldn’t—simply hand over the map and go home. Her father had intended that treasure for her! Her future depended on it.

  The girl rushed Krueger, the clang of her steel against his echoing through the night. She had the blind enthusiasm of youth on her side, but he was bigger, stronger, and meaner. In an instant he had disarmed her. He placed the tip of his sword on her chest. “The map.”

  The sound of Meriwether’s reed pipe rang through the night, and the once-dark sky blazed with a furious swirl of lights. Fairy soldiers darted in, stinging Krueger and his men with their holly-leaf lancets. The rival pirates fell back. Jocelyn scooped up her sword and commanded her men, “Run! To the Hook’s Revenge, quickly!”

  Her crew followed her, pounding down the dock and up the gangplank. Mr. Smee set everyone to work preparing to cast off. Jocelyn climbed to the poop deck to see what was happening onshore. Meriwether left his soldiers and settled into his favorite place on her shoulder.

  The remaining fairies gave light to the scene. Krueger and his men were on the ground, faces and hands distorted with angry-looking boils where they had been stung.

  The foul pirate turned his head and peered at her over the distance with hateful, slitted eyes. Jocelyn felt fear, cold and sharp, in her stomach. She hadn’t felt such dread since before she defeated the crocodile. The emotion’s reappearance both surprised and angered her. She stuck her tongue out at the man to make herself feel better, but, as is the way of most empty gestures, it didn’t much help.

  Perhaps you have heard it said that there is more than one way to skin a cat. There are, in fact, thirty-seven and a half ways. Likewise, there is more than one way to react to the threat of a deadly pirate—one you know will not stop until he has drained you of your hopes, your future, and, more likely than not, your last drops of blood. Jocelyn, to her extreme frustration, chose the option she thought best.

  “Roger,” she called to her friend, “use that map of yours and find us somewhere we can hide.”

  It did not take long for Roger and his fantastic Neverland map to find a safe place for the Hook’s Revenge to lie low. While en route, Jocelyn sat atop the poop deck at the aft of the ship, her legs dangling through the railing, heels drumming the rear timbers. The starry sky was spread out above her, the cold, dark sea beneath. She might have felt lost in all that vastness, had Roger not been nearby, taking a turn at the wheel. The rest of the crew were scattered below on the main deck, too keyed up from the evening’s dangers to think of sleep.

  Jocelyn pulled her spyglass from the pouch at her waist where she kept it, along with a few other important things: flint and steel, a claw from the Neverland crocodile, two unusually pretty rocks, and a phoenix tail feather she had found on the island. The girl scanned the waters behind them, searching for any sign of Krueger’s ship, Calypso’s Nightmare.

  “How far are we from that hidden cove you found, Mr. Navigator?” she asked Roger.

  The boy consulted his map, holding it up to one of the ship’s lanterns. He checked what he saw against his pocket compass. “Not far now, Captain. We should be there within the hour—provided the Neverland doesn’t decide to turn it into a cape or peninsula.” He grinned at Jocelyn, clearly caught up in the adventure of it all.

  She felt the same spark of excitement for a moment, but it fizzled. “I hate that we are hiding from Krueger like a pack of cowards.”

  “I know.” Roger took another look at his map and compass, and, apparently satisfied that the ship was on course, abandoned the helm to come sit next to her. “But maybe you are looking at it the wrong way. We’re not hiding; we’re exercising stealth. Once we are settled in a secure place, away from any distraction Krueger may provide, we’ll be free to solve that clue your father left on the map.”

  His words cheered the girl. That’s right—she was no coward! She was simply focusing on getting what she wanted. Jocelyn thought back to the advice she had received from her mother—or at least the spirit of her mother—before she fought the crocodile: Decide what you want. Believe you can have it. Don’t let anything get in your way.

  The girl wanted her father’s treasure. It was the key to the future she planned for herself and, since she was Hook’s only heir, it was her birthright—not only the treasure itself, but the getting of it. This was her adventure. She wouldn’t let Krueger, or anything, keep it from her.

  She bumped Roger with her shoulder. “Thanks. I can always count on you to help me feel better.”

  He winked at her. “That’s what best friends do. Now, have you given any more thought to what that clue might mean?”

  She repeated the words they had seen float to the surface of the map: “‘You will not find the treasure lying safe within its place until you find the key that lies behind my face.…’” She shook her head and frowned. “I have no idea, but I’m going to ask Smee his opinion.”

  Mr. Smee had sailed with Jocelyn’s father for years and was still deeply mourning his loss. Better than anyone Jocelyn had met on the Neverland, he knew Captain Hook.

  Roger tapped her locket. “Maybe he has a portrait like yours hidden under his shirt.”

  She giggled. “Either that or under his pillow. Since we don’t appear to be in mortal danger at the moment, perhaps I’ll ask him now.”

  Roger resumed his place at the wheel as the girl got up to call Smee to the poop deck, but before she could, another pirate climbed the ladder and stood before her. The scowl on Dirty Bob’s face could have curdled milk, if his ugliness hadn’t already done the job.

  He removed his sterling-silver double cigar holder—a gift from Jocelyn to apologize for smashing his pocket watch—from the corner of his mouth and tapped the ash to the deck. “I’ve a thing or two to say, Cap’n.”

  She placed her hands on her hips and glared up at the pirate. “I have some things to say to you as well, Bob, but I’m busy just now.”

  Jocelyn tried to step around him, but he blocked her. “This won’t take more’n a minute,” he said. “I don’t like what we’re doing here. Real pirates don’t turn tail and run at the first sign of trouble. And they don’t hide, neither.”

  The girl stood a little straighter and glared a little harder. “We aren’t hiding. We are using stealth!”

  Roger nodded in agreement.

  “Besides that,” Jocelyn went on, “I had to protect the map, not that I asked your opinion on the matter.”

  “Oh, yes, the map. The map that you can’t read.” He softened his voice a bit. “Unless yer visit to the mapmaker proved to be successful?”

  Jocelyn caught Roger’s eye and gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Between Dirty Bob’s surliness and Nubbins’s earlier blabbing, she didn’t feel it was wise t
o share what they’d learned with the entire crew. “Not just yet,” she said, “but we’ve made some progress.”

  Bob’s voice resumed its surliness. “Progress!” he scoffed. “In the meantime, you’ve not a sliver of gold left to line your purse.”

  “She has you to thank for that!” Roger spoke up.

  “That’s right!” Jocelyn agreed. “What were you thinking, Bob, goading those men into attacking the crew?”

  “Goating? I did no such thing! There wasn’t a single goat there.” He spat on the deck, next to his growing pile of ashes. “And as for the fighting, your men need the experience. It’s not good for them to be so weak. It goes against the Pirate Code.”

  Jocelyn’s hand strayed toward the map in her pocket. “The code? Like on the map?”

  “Not like on yer map.” Dirty Bob let out an exasperated huff. “You don’t know what the Code is? The Custom of the Coast?”

  Jocelyn shook her head.

  “The Jamaica Discipline? The Charter Party? The Code of Brotherhood?”

  The girl shrugged. She didn’t know a thing about it, which truly was a gross oversight on her part. I’m sure it was mentioned a time or two in her adventure books, but she often skipped over the least bloody parts—not that I much blame her for that.

  Dirty Bob threw up his hands. “I knew when ye signed me that you and yer men were a bit green, but by thunder, I never woulda guessed you don’t even know what the Code is!” He caught Roger’s eye. “I’ll bet the boy knows, though—don’t you, boy?”

  Roger gave Jocelyn an apologetic look. “I did hear my father say a thing or two about it. Yes.”

  “All right then, everyone knows except me,” Jocelyn snapped. “Perhaps one of you could fill me in?”