by Mingua, Wren
Miranda was petrified. She was frozen, as frozen as the ice cream she longed to consume. In the corner of her eye, she studied Algar's profile. She wished she could somehow turn him invisible. What was her mother going to think?!
“H-hi, Mom,” she stuttered.
“Are you getting some ice cream?” her mother observed. “You know, you should get some frozen yogurt. It tastes just the same as ice cream, but it's much better for your health.”
“Thanks for the advice, Mom. You know, I've really got to go...” Miranda started nudging her shopping cart down the aisle, past her mother's probing gaze. “It was nice seeing you.”
When her mother saw Algar following her daughter, she had to ask, “Who's your friend?”
“This? Heh heh...” As the nervous chuckle slipped from her lips, Miranda wrapped an arm around Algar's back. “This is, uh... this is...” Why couldn't she come up with a plausible lie? “This is my boyfriend, actually.”
Boyfriend?! What compelled her to say such a thing?! As embarrassing as it was, she supposed it would raise her mother's suspicions less than, “oh, this is the homeless pirate who's living with Lily and me...”
“Reeeeally.” As she studied Algar, her mother's eyebrow was raised. “I didn't know you had a boyfriend. What's his name?”
“Alg--”
“Thomas,” Algar interrupted. He grabbed her mother's hand and kissed the back of it, like a proper gentleman. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“Oh my! His beard tickles!” her mother giggled. “Honey, you've certainly found yourself an... uhhh... interesting sort of boyfriend.”
“Oh, he's interesting alright...” Miranda murmured. She made a mental note to ask him why he had referred to himself by another name.
“Well, Thomas, it's nice to meet you. I'm Nancy,” her mother said. She grabbed his hand and gave it a congenial shake. “And how long have you and my daughter been together?”
“A couple of weeks,” Miranda spoke up. “It's not really that serious.”
“Not that serious?!” Nancy repeated with a gasp. “Honey, why would you say that while he's standing right here?! You're liable to hurt to the poor man's feelings!”
“It's alright, Beauty,” Algar said, his smile semi-concealed by his bushy beard. “I'm getting used to your daughter's tart tongue.”
“Did you just call me Beauty?!” Nancy reached out and grabbed his arm. “Miranda, I think you might have a keeper here!”
Miranda grabbed her mint chocolate chip ice cream and chucked it into the cart. “Really, Mom, we've got to get going...”
“You're not going to get the frozen yogurt?”
“Nope.” Miranda took Algar by his shirt and started pulling him along with her.
Before they could flee, her mother shouted, “Wait, Honey! There's something I wanted to ask you!”
Miranda brought her cart to a screeching halt. “What is it, Mom?”
“The family cookout is next week!” Nancy exclaimed. “Grandma, Grandpa, Uncle Joe... everyone's going to be there. You'll come, won't you?”
“I'll come,” Miranda answered dismissively.
“Don't forget! Mark your calendars for next Saturday. And don't forget to remind Lily!”
“I won't.” Miranda, Algar and the shopping cart started to round the corner. “See you later!”
“Oh, and Honey... bring Thomas too!” her mother called out. “I'm sure the rest of the family would love to meet your new boyfriend!”
Chapter Eight
As she stowed her groceries in their appropriate places, Miranda wondered how she would get rid of Algar. She had planned on going home and researching homeless shelters, but now that her mother knew about him, the situation was a lot more complicated. He was officially invited to the family cookout, which made it harder to remove him from her life.
“Mom...” Miranda said aloud, reciting a potential scenario. “No... Alg—I mean Thomas—isn't here. Why? Because we broke up. I told you it wasn't that serious.”
Miranda shoved a package of cheese into the refrigerator and shook her head. “No. That's no good... what about...” She tried again. “Tom couldn't come, Mom. He had a business trip that took him away to... to Akron.”
The only problem was, Algar didn't look like the type of guy to go away on business trips. Not even remotely.
“Angel?” Algar said, observing her from the doorway. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “Are you in here talkin' to yerself?”
“No. I'm just... thinking.”
“Thinking out loud?” Algar chuckled. “I think that's the same as talkin' to yerself, Love.”
“Oh, be quiet!” Miranda shoved the Goldfish crackers across the kitchen counter, closer to Algar. “Just eat your Goldfish!”
“Aye...” Algar grabbed the package of snack crackers and ripped it open. “I can see that I'm bothering you, so--”
“You're not bothering me!” Miranda protested. She kept trying to tell herself to simmer down; she didn't want Algar thinking that Lily was the only spirited sister. “Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you. When we ran into my mom at the grocery store, you said your name was Thomas. Why did you do that?”
Algar couldn't respond right away, as he was in the process of munching on a handful of crackers. As soon as he swallowed, he said, “'Cuz that's my name.”
“Thomas? Your name's Thomas?!” She saw some cheesy cracker crumbs tumble into his beard. “Then why do you go by Algar?”
“Because I'm a pirate. Algar the Scar is a good pirate name. But Thomas?” Algar shrugged. “Thomas sounds like a poof.”
“Well... you could tack something to it to make it sound more threatening?” Miranda suggested. “Thomas the Dreadful. Thomas the Terrible.”
“Thomas is hopeless,” Algar insisted. “No, please... call me Algar. It's what I prefer.”
“Okay. If you say so.”
“Anyway, I didn't want to go by Algar the Scar when I's was meeting your mum,” Algar explained. “I didn't want her to panic.”
“Well... thanks. That was really thoughtful of you.”
They heard the front door slam, signaling Lily's arrival. She rushed into the kitchen and waved a bag in the air. “Hi guys!” Lily exclaimed. “Did you miss me?”
“I did indeed, Petal,” Algar said, winking.
“I stopped by CVS on the way home,” Lily said. She dropped her bag on the kitchen counter and started rummaging through its contents. “I got everything we would need!”
“Everything we'd need for... what?” Miranda approached the counter and tried to peek into her sister's bag. Lily eagerly revealed its contents: shaving cream, razors, and some facial cleansing cloths.
“It's for Algar's makeover!” Lily cheered.
“Algar's... makeover.” Miranda said, exchanging worried glances with the man in question. “W-what did you have in mind?”
“Well, I thought we could cut his hair. No offense, Algar, but it's a bit much,” Lily said. “You can keep it long, if you want to... I mean, shoulder-length hair can be kind of sexy on a guy, but I would prefer it if guys didn't have hair that was longer than mine. And that beard?”
Algar gave his tremendously long beard a few confused strokes. “What about my beard, Love?”
“Don't take this the wrong way, but it's sort of... gross,” Lily determined. “I don't mind when a guy has some five o'clock shadow, or a goatee, or a neatly trimmed beard... but that thing?! It's like ZZ Top gone wild!”
“Zee Zee... Top?” Algar repeated, thoroughly confused.
“So, you don't mind, do you? If I give you a makeover?” Lily pouted at Algar, hoping her disarmingly sweet expression would sway him.
Algar stared at Miranda, his eyes issuing a silent plea. “I... don't know.”
“Pleeeeeeease!” Lily whined. “You'll look really hot when I'm done, I promise!”
“Lily's used to getting her way,” Miranda warned him. “If she gets something in her head, you'll
never hear the end of it.” The cracker crumbs were still lodged in his beard. The makeover was her sister's idea, but Miranda had to admit—it would be nice if his food landed in his mouth, not in his facial hair.
“I--” Algar pursed his lips. “I... suppose it'd be alright, Lily Petal.”
“Eeeeeeee!” As she expelled her squeal of elation, Lily grabbed Algar's arm, grabbed her makeover supplies, and proceeded to drag him into the bathroom. “Miranda... you come too!”
Before following Lily to the bathroom, Miranda grabbed a stool and several newspapers, which she used to blanket the floor. She wasn't too crazy about the idea of Algar's woolly hair all over her bathroom tiles.
“Seriously, I think you'll look SO HOT when I'm done!” Lily exclaimed. When he sat on the stool, she stood behind him, running her fingers through his matted hair. “You know what's awesome? You have, like, really light blue eyes and really dark, dark hair. That's a really sexy combination on a guy.”
Miranda saw Algar flinch, and she felt a bit sorry for him. She didn't think the poor man was too crazy about the makeover process.
Lily pulled out a pair of scissors and held them out to Miranda. “Here,” her younger sister said. “You do it.”
“ME do it?!” Miranda repeated, aghast. “But this was your idea!”
“But you're better at this sort of thing!”
“I am not!”
“You are!” Lily insisted, with so much vigor that Miranda had no choice but to take the scissors from her sister's extended hand. “You gave Cody a haircut once, and it turned out really, really good!”
“Are you sure about this?” Miranda asked, directing the question at Algar. As she waited for his answer, she snipped the lowermost strands of his scraggly beard.
“I'm sure!” Lily exclaimed, thinking the question was directed at her. Unlike Miranda, she had no regard for Algar's feelings on the matter. “Actually, do you mind if I wait in the living room? You can surprise me when you're all done!”
“Lily!” Miranda shouted at her sister as Lily rushed out of the bathroom. “Why are you making me do this?! This was your idea!”
The bathroom door closed. Once again, Miranda and Algar were alone.
“Ugh! She can be so infuriating! Algar, you don't have to go through with this. Just because my sister gets some crazy idea in her head, that doesn't mean you have to submit.”
“It's alright,” Algar said with a shrug. “If it'd make Petal happy, I might as well. Besides, it seems I might be here for awhile. I 'spose I should try to fit in.”
“Okay... last chance to change your mind!” Miranda warned him as she held the scissors in front of his face.
“Go ahead, Angel. Do your worst.”
So Miranda started trimming off two-foot-long strands of beard. The hair billowed to the floor, blanketing the newspapers. If she had any hope of shaving his beard, she would need to prune his facial forest to a manageable state.
“You'll have to take a shower after this,” she said.
“Oh? Might this be another attempt to get me naked?”
“No!” Miranda laughed. “Not even close. It's just that... hair can get kind of itchy. And you'll have to use some shampoo. Do you see that white bottle over there?” She used the scissors to point to her bottle of Pantene.
“Aye.”
“You can use that to wash your hair.” Miranda slaughtered his beard. With every clipped hair, she could see a bit of improvement. “So, uh, Algar... tell me about yourself.”
“What do you want to know, Love?”
When she had significantly trimmed the beard, Miranda moved behind him and started cropping his hair. “I don't know. Anything. If you really are a pirate, I'm sure you have some interesting tales to tell.”
“None that'd be too suitable for a ladies' ears, I'm afraid.”
“I'm not that squeamish,” Miranda said. “How did you even get into pirating, anyway? I can't imagine that would be a job that would have too many willing applicants.”
“You're right. I didn't join of my own free will.”
“Really?” Miranda was going to aim for shoulder length hair, as it was her sister's request, but she ended up chopping too much. Now she would have to go with a haircut that was short, trendy and modern. “So... what? Did you get mobbed by a press gang or something?”
“Aye. When I was a lad of ten, marauders came to my village and killed me mum,” Algar said. “I saw them slit her throat right before my eyes.”
“Oh my god... that's horrible!”
“I don't approve of violence toward woman. I never have...” Algar closed his eyes and sighed. “But I didn't have time to cry over her corpse. The village was engulfed in flames, and there was nowhere to run. I was forced to work for the very people who killed me mum and burned me home.”
“Geez! Really? How do you ever recover from something like that?”
“You don't. It kills you a little bit... it ruins your soul,” Algar said. “I escaped when I was fifteen, then I joined up with another crew. Ten years later, I had my own ship... and I could finally get my revenge.”
Miranda did the math in her head. “So... how old are you?”
“Thirty.”
“Thirty? Really?!” Miranda shook her head with disbelief. “So... wow. You're practically the same age as me! I wouldn't have thought.” Miranda cut his hair short, but she left enough that she could still run her fingers through it—which is precisely what she did. His hair was still greasy, but it was a significant improvement. “So did you ever get your revenge?”
“Aye. I did.”
“Good. I'm glad.” Miranda grabbed the can of shave soap and squirted a tuft into her hand.
“If you think this story's bad, you should hear what happened to me when I was seven.”
“What happened to you when you were seven?”
“I should save that story for another time, Angel,” Algar said, staring at the cloud of soap in her hand.
“I'm going to put this on your face... so you better not talk for awhile, unless you want a mouthful of soap.”
Algar clamped his mouth shut and gave her a wink, which meant he was ready. She slathered the soap all over his face and grabbed one of the razors. Many years ago, she had helped one of her boyfriends shave, so at least she had some experience. She gently pulled the razor across his face, wiping the blade as she went along. When she was finished, she grabbed a towel and removed the excess soap from his face.
Miranda stepped back and admired her work. “Oh my god...” she whispered. His face, his hair, his entire look—it was mind-numbingly different. She had uncovered a square jaw, full lips, and a slight cleft of the chin. As her sister pointed out, Algar had steely blue eyes, which were a stark contrast to his black hair.
He was handsome.
Algar was handsome?!
Miranda could hardly believe her eyes!
“So, uhh... uhh...” His gorgeous face rendered her temporarily tongue-tied. Miranda, pull it together! Her mind was screaming at her.
“Are you finished?” Algar rose from the stool and checked himself in the mirror. If his puckered nose was any indication, he wasn't too pleased by the sight. “Now I look like a Thomas.”
“It's okay. I'll still call you Algar,” Miranda said as she gave him a reassuring slap on the back. “I'll turn on the shower for you. Is there anything else you need? You have a towel, right? Do you need a--”
Algar had whipped his shirt over his head, which had her tongue-tied yet again. Why hadn't she noticed it before? The impressive breadth of his shoulders... his defined pectorals... his...
She saw him pulling down his pants, which snapped her out of her daydream.
“I've gotta go!” Miranda adjusted the shower water and ran out of the bathroom as quickly as she could. “Bye!”
When Lily saw her emerge from the bathroom, her sister waved her over. “Miranda! How was it? How did it go?”
“It...” Miranda closed her eyes and
tried to summon the perfect word to describe Algar's transformation, but there wasn't a word in the English language that could appropriately encompass her feelings of shock and awe. “It's definitely different. Wait until you see it.”
“Awesome! I can't wait.”
Miranda didn't want to miss Lily's reaction, so she stayed on the couch and watched an MTV reality show with her sister. Miranda had never managed to suffer through an episode of Jersey Shore, but there was no way she would miss the debut of Algar's makeover.
Twenty minutes later, Algar emerged from the bathroom. Now that he was clean and wet and smelled like aftershave, he was even more handsome than ever.
Lily's jaw practically hit the floor. “Holy shit!” she squealed, her voice comical. “He's HOT!”
Chapter Nine
The next day, Miranda barely recognized Algar when they crossed paths in the kitchen. His hair was short, dark, messy and clean. With the beard gone, his sculpted jaw was now on display. He was wearing a white button-down shirt, which he had left unbuttoned. In his hand, he was holding his sword--
His sword?!
“'ello there, Lovely,” he greeted her with a smile. “I hope you don't mind... Lily let me out of my room before she left for work.”
“N-no. I don't mind,” Miranda stammered. At present, she was having a hard time dragging her eyes away from his muscular thighs, which were encased in a pair of snug black pants. How superficial was she?! When he was a dirty, mangy mess, she had always regarded him with a chip on her shoulder. Now that he looked presentable—hot, even—she was seeing him in a whole new light. “In fact, I probably shouldn't lock you in the bedroom at night. That isn't very nice of me.”
“Oi... but I don't blame you,” Algar said. As he swung his sword, it made an intimidating whoosh. “I wouldn't trust me if I was you.”
“W-why is that?”
“Well... I'm a pirate. We aren't exactly the most trustworthy folk, as I'm sure you've heard.” He took a moment to scratch his chin with the blunt end of his sword. “Tho I'd never do anything to hurt either of youse.”
“Why do you have your sword?”