“Okay. I’m on a ship with a crew of crazy people. That much was obvious. But where are we? Geographic location, I mean. And why are these people dressed like pirates?” asked Angus.
The bird took a deep breath. “Because they are pirates. And you’re in the Puget Sound, near Seattle.”
Angus wrinkled his brow in consternation. Seattle was only twenty miles from his house. Surely, he would have heard something on the news about pirates sailing the local shores.
He shook his head. “No, that can’t be. There are no pirates in Seattle, the state of Washington. No pirates in the entire continental US. Haven’t been for …” Angus tried to remember his history lessons. “Two hundred years!”
The macaw regarded him sadly. “That’s true, Angus …. in your world. In this world, pirates roam freely over all the American waters. Be glad you didn’t end up on Lake Erie. The Great Lakes pirates are notorious.”
“My world?” questioned Angus. Now he was more confused than ever. His head began to spin again, but this dizziness had nothing to do with the ship’s movement.
“Of course,” said the macaw. “You really don’t get it, do you?” Angus’ empty stare was answer enough. “You’ve transported yourself, apparently accidentally. You understand that bit, right?”
Angus nodded.
“You haven’t just moved your body to another place on the earth. You transported yourself to a parallel universe,” said the bird.
Angus stared blankly.
“You have no idea what I’m talking about. This gets better and better.” The macaw was exasperated. “He solves one of the greatest scientific mysteries of all time and doesn’t even realize it. Typical.”
The macaw stopped talking for a moment, glanced up at the closed trapdoor, and said, “Sounds like they’re still at it. We’ve got a bit of time. You’d better sit down.”
Angus collapsed on to the nearest bunk, releasing a puff of dust and dirt from the scratchy wool blanket.
“In your world, your universe, are there pirates?” asked the bird.
“Not anymore, except for a few places in Africa. And they don’t sail ships like this or dress like this. Pirates like this haven’t existed for hundreds of years,” answered Angus.
“Exactly. So logically, you agree this is not your world?” asked the bird.
“Well, unless we’re in a movie or at an amusement park …” mumbled Angus.
Feet stomped across the deck, and Marge’s loud, angry voice vibrated through the ceiling. The bird stopped a moment, and looked at him. “Does this look like a movie or amusement park to you?”
“No,” said Angus. He thought for a moment, and then asked, “So you’re saying there are two worlds, or universes, and I’ve somehow sent myself to this one?”
“Ummm, not exactly,” said the bird. “There are multiple universes. I don’t know how many yet.”
Angus stared distrustfully at the bird. “And just how would you know that?”
The macaw flapped to Angus’ bunk and settled down beside him.
“Because I’ve been to several of them.”
“You? How does a bird travel between universes?” asked Angus.
The bird looked sadly at Angus. “I’m not a bird. I’m Ivy.”
“Ivy?!” Angus gently touched the macaw, its feathers smooth and velvety against his fingers. The bird was a bit of a know-it-all. Maybe it was Ivy. “But I just saw you at school today.”
“You saw the Ivy of your universe.”
“So you live in …”
“A different world than yours. Not this one.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.”
“Me?”
“In my world, you’re a bit of a science geek.”
Angus glared at her.
“Sorry, I mean, you’re really smart. We aren’t the best of friends. I don’t know why …”
“Because you think you know everything, and you’re the teacher’s favorite, and …”
“Oh, so we aren’t friends in your world either?”
Angus looked at her. “Ding, ding, ding,” he said sarcastically.
“Well, I need your help. Desperately. I’ve been moving from universe to universe, trying to find a version of you who could help me solve my problem.”
“Wait a second,” Angus thought for a moment. “There are multiple versions of me?”
“Well, no. Just one of you in each universe.”
Angus stopped for a moment and considered this bit of news. “That’s pretty neat! Am I an inventor-in-training in all the worlds?”
“In this world, you’re a pirate, so no.”
“Wow! That is so cool!”
“You have no idea.”
“So why are you here as a macaw, and not as yourself?”
“That’s the problem I was telling you about.” Ivy looked like she was about to cry, if birds could shed tears.
Angus respectfully picked up Ivy and rested her on his shoulder. She rested her head against his and began her story.
“In my universe, I have a sort of laboratory in my basement. Kind of like the one you mentioned in your garage. My specialty is herbs and potions, not electronics. I generally use rats and mice to test my mixtures, but strange things have been happening with the animals. They’ve been disappearing, and I wanted to know where they were going. I know it was stupid, but I just had to figure it out. Not knowing was driving me crazy. Do you understand?”
Angus nodded his head.
“One afternoon, I did it. I gulped down the potion, and then it was like I was watching myself. I mean, I guess I was watching myself. I saw my body lying on the floor surrounded by the broken glass of the vial. I watched my mom find me, and yell, and cry. I saw the paramedics put me on a stretcher and take me to the hospital. I saw myself in a hospital bed hooked up to wires and machines.”
“That makes no sense, Ivy. How could you see all that?”
“It made no sense to me either. Then I realized I was seeing myself from weird places, like from the ceiling, sideways from the wall, up close on top of my own nose. And the view I had of myself was like hundreds of television sets. I figured it out when I saw myself in the hospital bed from a mirror. There was a fly on the mirror, and I realized I was seeing myself out of the fly’s eyes. In fact, I was the fly!”
“Ivy, that’s …”
“Crazy! I know! I was like you. I thought I was dreaming, or hit my head, or I don’t know what. Then I thought if I can be a fly and still think like me, what else could I be? I saw a squirrel running across the hospital parking lot, and I imagined what it would be like to be a squirrel, and then I was in the squirrel’s body. I ran underneath some parked cars for a while, but that got boring. So I tried it again with a crow. That was a lot better. I could fly and see things from high above, and I was big enough to not get swatted. I spent the rest of the day transporting my mind into different animals. Bugs too–grasshoppers were especially fun. You have no idea how wonderful it is to be able to jump twenty times the length of your own body.”
“Well, if you could do that, why didn’t you transport your mind back into your own body?” asked Angus.
Ivy sighed. “It was pretty fun trying out all the different animals, and it didn’t occur to me until dinnertime. I started getting hungry when I was a ladybug, and I couldn’t imagine eating aphids! But it wouldn’t work. I looked at my body lying in that hospital bed and I focused all my energy on it, like I’d done with the animals. I focused really intently, and the next thing I knew, I was looking at myself walking around and doing things. Only, it wasn’t me. It was someone in a bonnet and petticoat who looked like me. It wasn’t the hospital room. It was a grassy field. It wasn’t my universe. I was in the body of a spider, and the alternate Ivy was pointing at me and screaming.”
Angus picked up Ivy, moved her from his shoulder to his knee, and looked at her intently. “Then what happened?”
“I focused on the a
lternate me, and I tried to put my mind into her body, my body, and changed universes again. It happened again and again. Every time I found another version of myself and tried to jump my mind into the body, I’d switch universes. I was so scared …” Ivy broke off, and began gasping with her mouth open, her macaw chest pumping in and out.
Angus stroked the feathers of her head soothingly with a finger. “It’s okay, Ivy. I’m here. We’ll figure this out.”
“At some point, I realized I needed help. I couldn’t talk to the alternate versions of myself. I started to think, who could help me figure this out? In my world, you’re scarily smart. But I had drifted so far away from my own universe, I wasn’t sure how to get back to the you that could help me. So I decided I’d move through universes until I found a version of you that was similar to the Angus in my world.”
“And did you?” asked Angus. “Can he help you, this world’s version of me, what’s his name, BP? Is he going to help you?”
“No, he’s a buffoon,” said Ivy.
“Oh.”
“A dumb ape. A nincompoop. A regular knuckle-dragging cretin,” added Ivy.
“Fond of him, are you?” observed Angus.
Ivy cocked her head and scrutinized Angus. “The strange thing is, one minute that creep BP was standing on deck, being pelted in the head by cones falling out of the sky. The next minute, you were lying there, looking just like him but wearing goggles and that belt. I haven’t seen BP since. So I’m wondering. When you appeared, where did he go?”
They stood silently for a moment, thinking. Ivy began again. “I think you might be able to help me. You might even be smarter than my world’s Angus. I mean, you figured it out. You transported yourself here–your entire body, not just your mind. You can help me get back to my universe!”
“But I don’t know how I did it,” said Angus. “I think it had something to do with the Insectivore Incinerator. I mean, that must be it, right? My Incinerator must have sent me here. But how do we make it send me back? And how can it get you back into your body? Even if we could find your world? I can’t ...”
Ivy impatiently shook her head at him. “I’ve met mean Anguses, stupid Anguses, ridiculous Anguses, but in all the universes I’ve traveled to, you are the first Angus who gave up without even trying!”
Angus glared at her. “You see? That’s why we aren’t friends in my world. You are always so quick to judge! If you had let me finish, I was about to say I can’t get started until we get my Incinerator back from Marge.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t give up! Dumb, know-it-all, annoying … bird!” muttered Angus.
“Sorry,” apologized Ivy.
Heavy footsteps thudded above their heads and stopped at the trapdoor. Daylight flooded into the bunkroom.
“Quick! Hide!” hissed Ivy.
Angus looked around frantically, but there was no place to go. Desperate and terrified, he looked to Ivy.
“Get ready to run,” she whispered.
Angus took off his flip-flops and stuck one in each pocket. He pulled his safety goggles down over his eyes and climbed quietly off the bunk. He crouched in a racer’s stance, heart beating out of his chest.
“Now!” shouted Ivy as she took off, flying at breakneck speed toward the trapdoor. She flapped into the face of the tall, thin man climbing down the ladder. “Ufff!” he grunted, swatting her away. She shrieked as she bounced off the wall, and then gathered her strength and flew out the opening.
Angus shouted, “Ivy!” when he saw her crash into the hull, but then he took the opportunity her brave actions had given him. He put his head down like a bull and barreled forward, grabbing the ladder rungs and shoving the startled pirate out of his way. He was nearly to the top when he felt strong, unyielding arms encircle his waist and yank him off the ladder.
“Let go!” shouted Angus, wriggling, kicking, and flailing about. “Put me down!” he yelled, trying to bite the hands holding him tightly. His body slammed into the wall, and he fell to the filthy floor of the bunkroom. Searing pain laced through his chest as he tried to catch his breath.
A bald man with an unshaven face scowled at him. “Better say yer prayers, matey.” He reached down and hauled Angus to his feet. The light entering the open trapdoor glinted off a small pistol in his hand. “Up ye go.” He thrust Angus toward the ladder, and Angus pulled himself laboriously upward, gasping for air as he went.
“Got ‘im,” announced the taciturn pirate to the congregating crew.
Marge lumbered toward them and slapped Angus hard across the face. “Ye bloody fool! Ye nearly sank the Flea! Shep, truss him up. He’ll be walkin’ the plank before the hour is out.”
The red-shirted pirate, whose name was apparently Shep, took Angus’ arm and propelled him toward the ship’s stern. “Sorry about this, lad,” he said regretfully. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. Powder monkeys never last long aboard the Fearsome Flea.”
Angus’ mind reeled. He was in the Puget Sound, not some huge ocean. If he could stay afloat long enough, eventually he would reach shore, that is, if he didn’t die of hypothermia first. The average temperature of the Puget Sound was between 40 and 50 degrees Fahrenheit. He calculated quickly in his head. A water temperature in the mid-40’s would give him between 30 and 60 minutes until exhaustion or unconsciousness set in. He’d likely only survive for an hour, maybe two if he were really lucky. On the bright side, there were no major predators to worry about, at least not in his universe. He wasn’t sure what creatures he would encounter in this world.
Shep stopped at the rear of the ship. For the first time, Angus noticed the six-foot-long beam jutting from the back of the ship. He had always thought “walking the plank” was a myth created by filmmakers.
“Don’t run or fight, and I’ll try to make this easier on ye,” Shep said quietly. “Ye savvy?”
Angus nodded. Shep released Angus’ arm, and picked up a pile of rope. He stretched it out between his two meaty hands, revealing a long frayed swatch. He looked meaningfully at Angus. Angus looked back, nodding his head. Shep was going to bind him with weakened rope. Shep was trying to help him! Shep wrapped the rope around Angus’ body, pinning his arms to his sides. It was tight enough so as not to arouse suspicion among the other pirates, but Angus was able to move his arms slightly, and he felt a surge of optimism.
His thoughts returned to Ivy. He hoped she hadn’t been too badly injured. She had flown out of the bunkroom, so he assumed her wing wasn’t broken. That bald pirate had been really strong though; he had knocked the wind out of Angus’ lungs, and Ivy was so much smaller than he was. He didn’t see the blue and yellow macaw anywhere.
The pirates were beginning to convene around Shep and Angus. Several scrambled up the riggings for a better view. Their loud, excited voices reminded Angus of his classmates when they had an assembly, if his classmates had been stinky, hairy men with tooth decay.
“Feed them fishes, powder monkey!” yelled an aspiring comedian, eliciting a wave of laughter. “Give our greetings to Davey Jones!” shouted another. “Clean off some of them barnacles on yer way down!” sounded from the riggings. “Walk the plank! Walk the plank! Walk the plank!” chanted the crew.
In an instant, the noise quieted as Marge appeared at the ship’s stern.
“Fer crimes of negligence and stupidity, and just fer gettin’ on me nerves, I hereby sentence ye to death by plank. Shep, send him on his way,” she ordered.
The crew roared in excitement, and began their chant once more, as Shep poked Angus gently in the ribs with his dagger. “Get on yer back and float with the current.” He shoved him forward and backed away.
Angus looked down at the ice blue water racing beneath him, closed his eyes, and jumped.
Chapter Four: BP Moves In
BP’s eyes fluttered open. The young cannon boy raised himself up on an elbow and waited for the spinning to subside. He hadn’t fainted from hunger in a while, but times were tough aboard the Fearsom
e Flea. He’d have to ask One-Eyed Billy if he had a food stash hidden anywhere on the ship. One-Eyed Billy, the Fearsome Flea’s gunner, was his closest ally. It hadn’t taken BP long to realize that Billy’s talent for finding and squirreling away foodstuffs and various other commodities made him the most popular pirate on the Flea.
Every member of the crew wanted to charm Billy. If you needed shoelaces, you might trade him a few apples. You could get matches for flea powder or saltwater taffy for a comic book. No one knew where he hid the items, but the crew spoke in muffled tones about the “extra booty” on board. Of course, Marge had no idea any of this was happening right under her nose. So far, BP had been able to elude Maniacal Marge’s murderous intentions by sticking close to the well-liked Billy.
If Marge found him passed out from hunger again though, there wouldn’t be much Billy could do to help him. Marge would keelhaul him for sure! He drew a deep breath, rolled to his knees, and tried to stand.
“Arghh,” he moaned. He’d stood up too fast. He bent over, clutching his knees, eyes squeezed shut, and panted. The cool, hard ground rocked beneath his bare feet. He opened his eyes and gazed lazily at his dirty, brown, and callused feet. Marge, Shep, and some of the older pirates wore heavy boots. He didn’t see the point of shoes. They got stuck in the riggings, tended to slip on the wet deck, squished the toes, and were a general nuisance to get on and off. They might be useful for kicking someone in the groin during battle, but so far he hadn’t seen much hand-to-hand combat. Shep had given him a dirk for self-defense but wouldn’t allow him to board prey vessels yet. He absently fingered the small, sharp weapon tethered to his waist with a bit of string.
He had earned his ship name with a prank that had gotten his ears boxed but had endeared him to every member but one of the Flea’s crew. Maniacal Marge ruled the crew with an iron will. She had been mean and mouthy, and he had hated her from the start. She boxed his ears, screamed into his face, and stomped on his shoeless feet every chance she got. After days of her mistreatment, he had reached his breaking point.
The Pirate's Booty (Inventor-in-Training) Page 3