Captain James Hook and the Curse of Peter Pan

by Jeremiah Kleckner

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The weeks that William and I spent aboard the Queen Anne’s Revenge melted into months. When we weren’t running messages between Blackbeard and his crew, we swabbed the deck, prepared food for the cook, and rigged the chain and bundle shots for the cannons before battle. It was hard work, but we dared not complain. William Howard was a stern Quartermaster and Smee, the ship’s Boatswain, was ever-watching for a reason to “toughen us up some.”

  One morning, I was by the main mast hitching the sheets when I overheard Blackbeard squabbling with the other animals. Smee held a crumpled map and stared off into the horizon. Next to him was Stede Bonnet, a tall and soft-spoken and, as far as I could tell, well-educated scoundrel. Not long before William and I were taken onto the Queen Anne’s Revenge, Bonnet’s crew became Blackbeard’s crew and he became little more than a guest on the ship. As they got louder with each other, I split my effort between working the knots and listening in on the argument.

  “You don’t know what yer saying,” Blackbeard bellowed as he ripped the charts from Smee’s hands. “You’d have us dead in two days.” I didn’t know whether it was Blackbeard’s tone or the animated way he tore the charts from his crew mate’s grip, but I let out a slight chuckle. It wasn’t much, but it was loud enough. I tried to reach out and pull the sounds of my laughter back into me, but I failed and found myself the focus of their hardened stares. My blood froze as I looked into Blackbeard’s red, sunken eyes.

  “You want to try, Little Englishman?” he asked. Although it was worded like an offer, there was an edge of challenge to his tone. I’d always been very good with charts, but I didn’t know what sort of answer he was expecting. Would he be angrier if I said “yes” and thought I could do better than his crew mate or if I said “no” and shrank further into my skin? My next move may decide whether I continued breathing and I must live. Emily and my mother were waiting for our safe return and Heath Ashley and Jesse Labette were waiting for my bloody revenge. These men stood between me and what was just and, frankly, I was tired of shrinking.

  I rose to my feet and walked over to them. Blackbeard shoved the charts in my hands and the three of them stood over me like ogres.

  “Well, boy,” Blackbeard grumbled, “we’re headed through these patches of islands here.” He pointed to where the ship was on the map and then again quickly at where we were headed. “How would you get us killed?”

  Part of me hoped that I’d at least see Port Royal nearby, but we were far too many miles southeast. Port Royal wasn’t even on this map. The second thing I noticed was that our heading led out deep into the ocean and stopped at nothing. No island. No port. Only open sea for miles outside of Rio.

  “There’s nothing out there,” I started. Smee went to take the map from my hands but Blackbeard stopped him with an arm across the chest.

  “Don’t you mind where we’re going,” he said. “Just get us there in one piece.” The challenging tone rose in his voice again and I knew I had to try.

  I nodded, took a deep breath, and got to work. My time memorizing father’s charts helped guide me as I began by carving a path around areas I knew the English and Spanish ships would be. Even though I would have loved to be taken in by a Royal Navy ship, I couldn’t bare the idea of the Queen Anne’s Revenge taking any English lives. I drew my route quickly, taking into account tides, currents, and seasonal winds. When finished, I looked up at them proudly.

  “Seven days,” I told them. “Four if we sail at full through the night.” I handed Blackbeard the charts and he began looking them over. Smee’s face flushed red and he stormed below deck while Stede just blinked dimly. I turned to Blackbeard and said, “But I wouldn’t suggest sailing at night since the islands are so close together…”

  “We’d be dead on day five,” Blackbeard croaked. He lowered the chart down to his side and looked me dead in the eye. “Day three if we ‘sail at full.’”

  “But that’s not possible,” I argued. I had always prided myself on my skills in mathematics. There was no way that I could have been wrong.

  “Not possible, is it?” Blackbeard said through squinted eyes. “And yer confident that you’ve thought of everything, are ya?” I opened my mouth to defend my numbers, but he cut me off before I could utter a sound.

  “Have you any idea how deep the bilge is on this ship, boy?” Blackbeard continued. “How about how much she weighs with a full crew aboard?” I looked at the chart stupidly, knowing that I didn’t have an answer.

  “She’ll be sunk here,” he pointed to a spot on the chart between two widely spaced islands, “where the coral reaches high enough to tear holes the size of men into the hull.”

  After seeing that I understood, he leaned in and gave me this warning. “Above all else, know yer ship, Mr. Hook. Know her well.” I nodded as the reason behind this task finally became clear to me. This wasn’t a threat or a punishment. It was a lesson. But why would he take the time to teach me anything? Weren’t these animals just going to kill us when we’ve outlasted our use?

  William and I worked day and night, but since that morning, it seemed we hardly saw one another at all. Blackbeard took more and more of my time, teaching me charts, strategy, and currency, while William spent nearly every day sweating above deck under Smee’s watchful glare.

  We passed while working, to be sure, but gone were the days of long talks about returning home. In the brief moments I saw William, I looked into his eyes and feared that all hope had left him. Worse, I feared that he saw the same in me.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  We traveled the route Blackbeard charted and, on the day we arrived, I saw the ghost of the Britannia. Her tall, piercing masts were unmistakable, even at a distance. For long minutes, the world around me blurred and the only thing that existed was that one dark stain on an otherwise calm blue sea.

  Thousands of thoughts ran through my mind at once. Had my father’s death been a dream? Had I gone overboard and washed up on the island only to imagine burying him? Had he come to rescue me from these monsters who now greeted me with smiles? My toes gripped the coin in my shoe, telling me the truth of what had happened.

  My father was dead.

  There was no rescue.

  Jesse Labette captained the Britannia.

  As the ship drew nearer, I saw more evidence of this horrid truth. The king’s colors were gone. Even the name, Britannia, had been scraped off of her hull. Thick blood churned in my veins as my eyes fixed on the ship-killer known as Long Tom, the two-ton cannon that wiped my father from this Earth. It grew larger as it approached, stalking me, searching for me, looking to finish the job it started years ago. She was the Jolly Roger now. But how?

  “My god,” I breathed after long moments without air. Time started again and I began to see and feel the world around me. I was at one of the port holes in the Blackbeard’s cabin, close enough to the man-beast for him to have heard me. Blackbeard rose from his chair and trudged over to the window to my right.

  “He’s late,” he said. His breaths were slow and measured as he turned to me. “Join the men on deck.”

  “For battle?” I asked, grabbing a knife.

  “No, Mr. Hook,” Blackbeard said. I stopped just short of the door and turned back to meet his red, puffy eyes. “For a trade.”

  “Trade?” I repeated foolishly. What trade could there be with a fiend such as Jesse Labette? He was a killer of men and, along with Heath Ashley the betrayer, the reason I was not at home with my mother and Emily. I stammered more sounds together before speaking again in a way that could be understood. “What for?”

  “Her captain is partial to louis-d’ors,” Blackbeard grumbled. He went on to explain that the French cruiser we took held a good amount of their native currency, a favorite of Jesse Labette. That, combined with the chest that was recovered from the island, made for a weighty sum. It seemed that the Queen Anne’s Revenge was in need of supplies that the new Jolly Roger had in surplus.

&
nbsp; “Yer good with numbers, aren’t ya boy?” Blackbeard said. I nodded, still not sure what role I had to play in this and how my situation could get any worse. Then Blackbeard showed me that there was no limit to my misfortune. “Good, you and Smee are with me.”

  Blackbeard split his crew into three groups. William Howard manned the helm with three armed men at his back and another fifteen hiding pistols under loose clothes while “working” the ship’s daily maintenance. Stede Bonnet paced at the fore of the ship with a second armed grouping of men, some of which he kept loyal with his purse. William stayed below deck with the third group who readied the cannons and themselves against any sounds of betrayal. I was on the deck at the right hand of Blackbeard, with Smee on his left.

  We stood in silence as the Jolly Roger crept up alongside us. She was shorter and narrower than this frigate, but she was a heavily armed brigantine and carried Long Tom. If we were to go to battle at this range, neither ship would survive. Fighting would have to be done crew to crew and we had more hands. He’d have to be a fool to take us on.

  The men on deck tethered lines to hooks and cast them onto the Jolly Roger. They drew the ships closer to one another and extended planks across each deck. The crew of the brigantine hailed us with smiles and cheers of greeting. Throughout this, Blackbeard remained steady, watching each man’s movement.

  Three men stepped across the plank from the Jolly Roger. As each one passed, I realized that I had no idea what Jesse Labette looked like. Someone so vile had to have a telling appearance. I watched them closely for signs of monstrous horror, but not one had a tail, horns, or an inhuman glow in their eyes. The three of them lined up, demons in men’s clothing. The one in the middle stepped forward and bowed. The monster by my side spoke first.

  “Welcome aboard the Queen Anne’s Revenge, Captain Labette,” Blackbeard said, returning the pirate’s bow with a nod. The pirate rose and removed his wide-brimmed black hat, revealing long hair that was tightly pulled back. Its color was fair against his face, which was dark and dry from years at sea.

  “‘Tis good to be welcomed,” the pirate grinned.

  A thousand thoughts came to me at once. Although he answered to the name, this man could not be Jesse Labette, the feared killer of honorable men. He was no taller than any other man and despite the bulk of his coat, he was no broader either. What if my mother was right and these pirates were only men and nothing more? Blackbeard was certainly a savage, but he was no troll or beast. If he was a man, then Jesse Labette was as well. A man can be betrayed. A man can be killed. Blood pounded heavily in my ears and a red cloud crept in around the edges of my vision. Buried in his chest beat a heart blacker than a moonless night and I wanted to tear it from his corpse with my own two hands.

  Blackbeard stepped forward and motioned for Labette to follow, which he did. Blackbeard chose Smee to talk this trade over with Labette in the captain’s cabin. My job was to wait outside until I was needed to count the money and I assumed Labette’s third crewman was charged with the same task.

  They walked shoulder to shoulder exchanging tense smiles as I strained to hold myself still. If I lunged for Labette now, I’d surely be killed. Here, surrounded by his friends and Blackbeard’s crew, was not the place. Today, I told myself, I am not prepared to win. I stopped at the door and watched Jesse Labette, the murderer of my future, close the door behind him.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Blackbeard’s negotiations with Jesse Labette took over three hours. Coarse talk was punctuated with shouts, threats, and laughter. It was impossible to hear fully what was being discussed, but large sums of money were at stake.

  My task in this trade was to guard the door until I was told how many louis-d’ors to count out. Waiting wasn’t a difficult job, save for the company. One of the pirates that came over with Jesse Labette was outside the cabin with me and reeked like brine, which appeared to be crusted into his beard. An evening wind picked up, and I wondered if I smelled any better.

  The noise inside the cabin died down to a whisper seconds before the door burst open.

  “You’re up,” Smee barked at us. Stunned to alertness, I locked eyes with the crusty-bearded pirate, who already had his hand on the pistol in his belt. He smiled and laughed to himself, shaking salt from his beard onto the deck. Smee leered at him before adding, “Come on, then.”

  The two of us entered and Smee closed the door behind him, sealing me in with my nightmares. The two captains sat facing one another on either side of the dark table that Blackbeard used for business and dining. Jesse Labette laughed heartily as Blackbeard toasted the agreement. Both men drank while Smee smiled through a scowl at Labette’s pirates, who sneered back at him.

  “Mr. Hook,” Blackbeard said, finally noticing me. “This is Captain Labette.”

  “Yes, sir, I know,” I said out of reflex. Labette perked the corner of his mouth into a smirk and tilted his head in curiosity. I looked at the floor, purposely avoiding his gaze. Earlier, I resolved to keep my temper at bay. One slip here and William and I would never see home again.

  Then Labette leaned forward and asked, “Have we met, Mr. Hook?”

  “No, sir,” I said, meeting his eyes for the first time. “I’d only heard of you up until now.” He rested his back against the chair with a wide self-satisfied grin across his face. His eyes remained fixed on me, as if he were examining me. Blackbeard roared with laughter and raised his glass to toast their notoriety. When he set the glass back on the table, I asked him, “What do I need to count, sir?”

  “No counting,” Blackbeard said. “Captain Labette just wanted to get a good look at ya is all, being that you’ll be carrying the chests.” Smee snorted at me and grinned. Blackbeard waved his arm over the two chests behind his chair. “These are his.” Questions formed in my mind, but instead I nodded and lifted one of the chests. The sooner I was out of this cabin and away from Labette, the better. I got halfway through the door when Blackbeard dashed my hopes of escape.

  “You and Smee’ll be taking these chests over to the Jolly Roger.” My heart and stomach changed places for an instant. The Jolly Roger? I could barely look at the ship without flying into a rage. I stifled my panic long enough to catch Labette still watching my every move. I managed to breathe an, “Aye, sir,” before leaving.

  A strong gust caught me as I stepped onto the deck, but that wasn’t what chilled me. The Jolly Roger creaked and snarled as the wind cut through her sails. I steeled myself before crossing the plank that connected the two ships.

  As I stepped onto the dark ship, her crew watched me out of the sides of their eyes. They were split in much the same way as ours. Men were here and about, pretending to work while armed to the teeth. They cackled and joked to themselves just before I was hit.

  Something hard slammed into my back and I tumbled forward, spilling the chest in my hands. It crashed and sprang open with a bang. Coins leapt from within and scattered like mice behind the corner where Emily kissed me those years ago. The men fell silent. Some drew weapons. I crawled on my knees to gather the money back into the chest.

  “Look sharp,” Smee snickered loudly. He took a few steps and placed the chest down on the deck before turning to sneer again. He flicked open my father’s watch and looked at it briefly before speaking again. “You’d better clean up your mess, Hook.”

  “No,” was all I said at first. If the ships were quiet before I spoke, they were a cemetery now. “This mess is yours and that watch is mine.”

  Smee flushed red and looked about him at the hushed, dirty faces. “It is a pretty watch, Hook, but it is mine.”

  “When we’re all laid low,” I said, “we’ll see who’s laid with it.” Smee took two steps toward me and I rushed to greet him. Up until this point, I hadn’t realized how much I’d grown in my time away. I was almost eye to eye with him.

  “If you’re going to stab me, then do it.” I challenged. “No? How about shooting me?” All the time that I’d spent cowering was over
. There would be no more fear.

  Smee paused and then paced around me, snorting like an animal. He stopped, pulled the knife from his belt, and dropped it to the floor with a thud. His fists clenched in that most familiar preamble to my beating.

  “Ahoy, Little Floater!” called a voice from a distance. The blood drained from Smee’s face as he and I both looked to the Queen Anne’s Revenge. Calling out again, Jesse Labette sauntered across the plank. “You handle yourself well, Smee,” he said. “You spend a few years on a ship and now you’re running trade agreements with the captain and ordering the boys around on deck.” Smee met his eyes with a murderous rage. Labette strode up to him grinning like the devil himself. “You’ve come a long way from the board we found you floating on.”

  The color returned to Smee’s face as he pulsed with anger. They stared at each other for moments before Labette spoke again. It wasn’t a long pause, but I had time to wonder. What happens when one beast swallows another? Does he grow stronger for the victory or is he less of what he was from the fight?

  “Mr. Hook,” Labette said to me without once looking my way, “have you ever heard how Smee came aboard the Queen Anne’s Revenge? Or how he got his name?”

  “No,” I answered. Although I wanted to know, I’d rather find a safe distance from the both of them.

  “Back when I served as Boatswain under Blackbeard, months after we first took the ship, we saw this tubby Irish boy floating on a board in the open sea,” Labette said. He squinted a little and pulled the corner of his mouth into a smirk. “For the life of me, I have no idea why we didn’t just let him drift. He had no valuables and he’d been stabbed through the gullet.” Smee brought a hand to his stomach, much to Labette’s amusement.