by Guy Bass
Stitch Head turned his attention to the crate. He jammed his sword into the lock and tried to pry it open.
“I’ll save you … master!”
Stitch Head cried.
“Oh, no, you don’t!” Freakfinder said with a growl, scurrying up the crates. “Try to take what’s mine, will you?!”
Stitch Head turned around just in time to see Freakfinder swing his cane. Stitch Head ducked. The cane came crashing down on the top of the professor’s crate.
“You thieving little snot! I’ll knock your head off!” yelled Freakfinder, banging the crate with his cane.
Stitch Head dodged left, then right, desperately avoiding Freakfinder’s blows —and found himself balanced precariously on the edge of the stack. He glanced behind him at the long drop into the surging sea.
“Nowhere left for you to run! That’ll teach you to play at being pirates,” Freakfinder said, sneering. He swung his cane back and forth at Stitch Head.
Stitch Head threw himself at Freakfinder and slid between his legs. He grabbed his wooden sword out of the crate’s lock and faced Freakfinder.
“HA! What’s that supposed to be?” Freakfinder cackled.
“That,” replied Stitch Head firmly, “is my trusty sword. And I’m not playing. I am a pirate.”
Stitch Head launched himself at Freakfinder. Sword clashed against cane! Stitch Head felt his tiny bones rattle under the impact.
Freakfinder was so much bigger and stronger than he was. He parried two more blows, but could barely keep hold of his sword — his stitches were strained to the breaking point.
“Hold still!” howled Freakfinder. “Hold still while I bash you!”
But Stitch Head kept moving, weaving in and out of Freakfinder’s legs. Before long, Freakfinder began puffing and gasping.
“Hold still, you snot,” he growled.
This was Stitch Head’s chance! He jumped over the cane and onto the professor’s crate.
Then Stitch Head raised his sword.
“Who’s out there? Release me, I say!” protested the professor, rattling the crate with all his might. As Stitch Head struggled to keep his footing, Freakfinder lunged with the last of his strength. He struck hard with his cane, knocking Stitch Head’s sword out of his hand. It spun and whirled high into the air.
“Not so . . . swashbucklin’ now . . . are ya!” stammered Freakfinder. Stitch Head’s eye darted upward to his spinning sword. Suddenly, he leaped toward Freakfinder and grabbed him by the ears, then scrambled up his hat until he reached the top. As Freakfinder flailed and cursed, stumbling forward, Stitch Head flipped upward!
As he spun through the air, time itself seemed to slow down. Stitch Head saw the polished wood of the deck, and then the billowing clouds and the white light of the sun.
Then, as he landed back on the crate, he raised his hand — and his still-spinning sword fell right into his fingers.
“Told you it was trusty,” whispered Stitch Head. He swung his sword. CLANK! The blow knocked Freakfinder’s cane over the side of the ship and into the churning sea.
“Lugs and . . . mumbles!” Freakfinder said between gasps. He gripped his chest and fell to his knees. “You’ll give me a . . . . heart attack with all this . . . horseplay!”
Stitch Head’s eye glinted in the sunlight. He gently placed his sword under Freakfinder’s chin.
“Open that crate and free my master,” he said. “Do it. Now!”
“Get off me!” Arabella yelled. “I’ll kick your knees off!”
“Arabella?” said Stitch Head. He wheeled around to see the cap’n holding her in midair by her neck. The other crewmen, scarred and chewed from their battle with Pox, had managed to throw a sack over the mad monkey-bat.
“Leave her alone!” Stitch Head cried. “I mean it!”
“I give the orders around here, by criminy!” hollered the cap’n. “Now drop your silly sword and come down from up there!”
“Don’t do it, Stitch Head!” screamed Arabella, kicking.
“Hush, you! You nearly broke my shin bone with all that kicking,” growled the cap’n, shaking her wildly.
“No! Please don’t hurt her!” cried Stitch Head, throwing his trusty sword to the deck.
“That’s better! Now let’s get rid of them!” howled Freakfinder. He grabbed Stitch Head, hoisting him into the air and dangling him over the side of the ship.
“Hang on a minute, Freakfinder,” said the cap’n. “No one said anything about drowning children!”
“He’s no child . . . he’s a monster! A freak! He escaped from a lunatic asylum —just like the old man in the crate!”
“That’s a lie!” cried Stitch Head. “Please, we haven’t escaped from anywhere. Freakfinder kidnapped the professor — who is mad, but in a mad professoring sort of way — and he intends to use him to make monsters for his freak show!”
“Lugs and mumbles, you’ve got a big mouth for a little snot,” snarled Freakfinder. “I ain’t about to have you ruin my chance at fame and fortune!”
“Freakfinder, don’t —!” cried the cap’n. But it was too late. Freakfinder hurled Stitch Head into the sea.
“WAAHHH!” screamed Stitch Head as he plummeted toward the ocean. His almost-life flashed before his piratey eye — and he wondered if even Captain Flashpowder would know what to do right now. But, just as he expected to crash into the water . . .
KRUMP!
“Ow!” cried Stitch Head. He’d never fallen into the sea before, but this didn’t feel like water at all.
“Welcome ABOARD!” came a wild cry. Stitch Head stared up into the grinning face of the Creature and glanced around in disbelief. He was on the Gadabout II!
“Creature!” cried Stitch Head. “You’re all right!”
“BETTER than all right!” it boomed, wringing out its waterlogged coat. “I discovered I’m the BESTEST SWIMMER ever! I’m like a big MERMAID! Or Mer-CREATURE. Did you know I have GILLS? They’re GREAT! So there I was, practicing my DOGGY-PADDLE, when I came across the GADABOUT II in the water! And since you weren’t in it . . .”
“Creature, you’re amazing!” cried Stitch Head.
“All in a day’s PIRATING, Captain Stitch Head!” it said, saluting him.
Stitch Head saluted back, and then pointed up at the big ship.
“Speaking of pirates,” said Stitch Head, “we still need to rescue the rest of our trusty crew.”
“GREAT!” cried the Creature, scooping Stitch Head up in its third hand and leaping from the Gadabout II. It dug its free hands into the thick wood of the ship’s hull and began climbing the side. It reached the top in seconds, and then tossed itself onto the deck.
“AARRG! BEWARE, ye LAND-LUBBERS!” it roared, waving its three arms and tail. “I’m in a PIRATEY MOOD!”
All of the crewmen froze in place. “MONSTER!” screamed one.
“Actually, it’s CREATURE,” Creature replied. “Until I think of a BETTER name, that is . . . ARR!”
The crewmen’s shrill screams filled the air as they scattered in terror!
“HEY, everyone’s REALLY getting into CHARACTER,” the Creature said excitedly. It placed Stitch Head on the deck. “NOW I’d better DO something really PIRATEY.”
The Creature roared its most impressive “YAARRRR!” yet and began chasing the crewmen around the ship, crying, “I’ll SHIVER your TIMBERS!”
“Go get ’em,” cried Stitch Head, grabbing his sword off the deck.
“Criminy, this be madness!” wailed the cap’n, dropping Arabella. She immediately kicked him hard in the shin. THUMP! He crumpled to the ground.
“Stitch Head! You ain’t looking half as drowned as I thought you would,” said Arabella, watching the Creature chase the terrified crewmen around the deck.
Stitch Head looked up at the crates. His master’s crate was s
till there, but . . .
“Where’s Freakfinder?” Stitch Head whispered.
“Lugs and mumbles, don’t let it get me!” came the terrified cry. Stitch Head looked up and up . . . until he spotted Freakfinder climbing the rigging. He clambered all the way up and wrapped his spindly arms round the nearest mast.
“Allow me,” said Arabella. She pulled open the sack containing the growling, thrashing Pox and released him. Pox shook with rage and looked for something to bite. Arabella
pointed at the mast and grinned.
“Go get that bad man,” Arabella commanded her trusty companion. “That’s right, my lovely monkey-bat!”
It wasn’t long before Stitch Head and his trusty crew had taken over the ship. Pox quickly dislodged Fulbert Freakfinder from the mast, sending him crashing to the deck with an almighty KRU-DUMP! The Creature dumped him with the cap’n and crew. They all huddled and trembled on the deck in fear.
“That was GREAT!” boomed the Creature, looming over the sailors. Pox flapped around them, snapping his jaws. “Being a PIRATE is SO much better than going to TEA PARTIES! YAARRRR!”
Stitch Head and Arabella climbed back up to the crates. They pried open the top one.
YOINK! The professor popped out like a jack-in-the-box, flailing frantically.
“Foul villainy! Beastly fiends! I am kidnapped! You cannot keep me from my laboratory! I have creations simmering!”
“Master, it’s all right. You’re safe now,” said Stitch Head. “It’s me! Stitch Head.”
“Who?” asked the professor again.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake! Back in your box, you ungrateful, old nut!” said Arabella, slamming the lid on the professor.
“Arabella! What are you doing?” cried Stitch Head.
“I reckon if a mad professor don’t even recognize his first creation, he don’t deserve no fresh air,” she said. “He’ll be all right in there for a while. After all, do you want to be the one tell the prof that he ain’t got no award waiting for him?”
“Um, I suppose not,” replied Stitch Head. He gave a faint smile and breathed a long, slow sigh of relief. His master was safe — and that was good enough for now.
“So WHAT should we DO with THEM?” asked the Creature, striking its most piratey pose in front of the terrified crew. “Oooo! Let’s make them WALK the PLANK! NOTHING’S more PIRATE-LIKE than PLANK-walking . . .”
“Please don’t hurt us!” cried the cap’n. “We are but humble sailors, trying to make an honest living!”
“Ain’t nothing honest about kidnapping a crazy, old geezer,” said Arabella.
“We were led astray by Freakfinder. Now we know he ain’t no friend of ours!” cried the cap’n.
“Lugs and mumbles, I want my money back, you backstabbing pirate scum!” grumbled Freakfinder.
“We can’t listen to this all day — we’ve got a world of adventure ahead of us,” said Arabella. “Let’s make ’em swim home with their shoes on. That’s the pirate’s way. That’s what Captain Flashpowder would do!”
“Captain . . . Flashpowder?” repeated the cap’n. “You know Captain Flashpowder?”
Stitch Head’s eye glinted in the midday sun. “Do — do you?” he replied.
“Of course! It be my favorite storybook!” cried the cap’n. “Why, it’s the book that made me want to be a sea captain. I’ve read it over a hundred times!”
“Storybook . . . ?” whispered Stitch Head, climbing down the crates to the deck.
“Aye! To adventure, and all that! See, you can’t make me walk the plank! We have so much in common!” continued the cap’n hopefully.
The cap’n reached into his coat and groped around. “I still take it everywhere with me!”
Stitch Head watched in amazement as the cap’n pulled a book out of his coat pocket. It was battered and torn, but he recognized it immediately.
It was The Daring Diary of Captain Flashpowder.
I don’t understand,” whispered Stitch Head, staring at the book in the cap’n’s hand. “Captain Flashpowder’s diary . . . it’s still in Castle Grotteskew. How could you have it?”
“There wasn’t a boy in my hometown who didn’t have a copy of The Daring Diary of Captain Flashpowder — but no one loved it as much as me, by criminy!” continued the cap’n. “So, does this mean we be friends now? Book buddies! You wouldn’t make a fellow Flashpowder fan walk the plank, would you?”
As Stitch Head peered at the cap’n’s book, the truth slowly dawned on him. The Daring Diary of Captain Flashpowder wasn’t a diary at all. It was a storybook. It was all just a story. He felt his borrowed blood run cold.
“But that means . . .” he murmured, holding his tiny hand up to his pirate’s eye. “Flashpowder’s not real?”
“I wish he were, by criminy! The world would be a more exciting place,” replied the cap’n. “Still, we can always imagine, can’t we?”
“Ha! You thought you were part pirate? Part Flashpowder?” Freakfinder said with a laugh. “Lugs and mumbles, what a joke!”
“Shut your cake-hole, dog-face!” growled Arabella. “Unless you want Pox to eat your mustache!”
Stitch Head pulled the eyepatch off his head. Freakfinder was right. If Captain Flashpowder wasn’t real, then his remarkable, ice-blue eye was just an eye, and nothing more.
“I’m not a pirate,” he whispered. “I’m not even part pirate.”
“Oh, Stitch Head . . .” said the Creature. “I was so SURE you were!”
Stitch Head slumped onto the deck. He felt as if he’d been tricked. Or perhaps, he had just seen what he wanted to see. Perhaps Stitch Head been fooling himself all along.
“That don’t mean nothing!” shouted Arabella, scurrying down from the crates. “Eye or no eye, you built a ship and you set sail! You drew your sword and took over this whole ship and saved that reptile-faced master of yours! I ain’t never seen more pirate-like behavior in all my days! I don’t care whose eyes you got, Stitch Head — ain’t no one can take away what you did.”
Stitch Head slowly looked up. He glanced with both eyes out at the shimmering ocean. It still looked as glorious as it did when he first put on the eyepatch and saw the world of adventure in his mind’s eye. He may not be part pirate after all, but Arabella was right. Something in him had changed. He had changed.
“The professor belongs in Castle Grotteskew. And he always will,” said Stitch Head. He turned to the cap’n. “If we let you go, will you take us back to the harbor, please?”
“Aye! Whatever you say,” replied the cap’n. Then he pointed to Freakfinder. “And what about this fiend?”
“Make him walk the plank!” snapped Arabella. “See how he likes swimming with the fishes!”
“Do your worst!” said Freakfinder. “I’m not scared of no freaks.”
Stitch Head stared at Freakfinder.
“Let him go, too,” Stitch Head finally said. “If he’s brave enough to go anywhere near Castle Grotteskew again, I’ll be waiting for him.”
“We’ll all be waiting — boots at the ready!” growled Arabella. Then she turned to face Stitch Head. “But . . . do you really want to go back, Stitch Head? The professor might belong in the castle . . . but what about you?”
“YEAH, what about our GREAT ADVENTURE?” said the Creature.
“YaBBiT!” yapped Pox in agreement.
“I think I’ve had enough adventure for today,” replied Stitch Head. He looked out to sea. “But there’s always tomorrow.”
First published in the United States in 2013
by Capstone Young Readers
A Capstone Imprint
1710 Roe Crest Drive
North Mankato, Minnesota 56003
www.capstonepub.com
First published by Stripes Publishing
1 The Coda Centre, 189 Munster Road London SW6 6A
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Text copyright © Guy Bass, 2011
Illustrations copyright © Pete Williamson, 2011
All Rights Reserved
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on the Library of Congress website.
ISBN: 978-1-62370-008-9 (hardcover)
ISBN: 978-1-62370-092-8 (ebook)
Summary: Mad Professor Erasmus has long forgotten his first creation, Stitch Head, leaving the lonely patchwork monster to take care of Castle Grotteskew all by himself. But when the professor is kidnapped by crusty pirates, Stitch Head decides to risk his almost-life to save his creator. But he’ll need a little help from his new friends, the Creature and Arabella, to learn to embrace his inner pirate.
To Mum and Dad
~Guy Bass
For Alice Ballard a book for big school!
~Pete Williamson