A short story by Lily J. Troutman
Dedication:
I dedicate this short story to my awesome Creative Writing Class and such a wonderful teacher Mr. O. I also wish to dedicate this to one of my new very close friends whom I have named one of my generous and awesome captains after.
Prologue
June 10th, 1985.
Finn Lentheg
Onshore at Las!
Twas the first time I saw her, I wasn’t quite sure wha' her name was but I was mighty wantin' t' see her again. 'Twas when me scallywag crewmates rowed t' shore in the dinky wee rowboat that the cap'n had given us t' make our rounds. I was itchin' t' get onto dry land, It had been 3 years since I had felt dirt underneath me feet 'n the smell o' somethin' other than the sea air fills me nostrils. She wasn’t dressed like most o' the lasses in town. She didn’t look like one that would be wearin' a corset, let alone a pink parasol that spun in circles around her head. She had the most beautiful lookin' rich skin, beautiful blue eyes that took me back t' the sea…
“Ye comin' Finn?” One-Leg-Nelly yelled wit' his mouth full o' somethin' that looked like a chicken leg. I shrugged, accidentally losin' sight o' the fine gal I found hisself sweatin' o'er.
“Wait, let me come with you!” cried a young lad around One-Leg-Nelly’s age. He ran fore through the crowd, a group o' country officers chasin his sorry rump. I shrugged 'n grabbed his fearful shirt 'n threw 'im onboard the Lily-pad. The sorry-whelp docked on Roger Starky 'n the angry whelp snapped his teeth like a rabid cur. The sore-lad screamed 'n struggled against the hold o' all o' us sailors.
Sailors, we are strong, sailors could un-knot anythin', includin' jumbled up cuts o' limbs. I grabbed an ore 'n started rowing 'n spit a mouthful o' tobacco that I had in the pouch o' me lip into one of the country officers face. Wit' an evil smile, I did as I normally did, 'n rowed. As the Poisoned Storm, me home fer o'er 5 years, neared, I found me stomach becoming slightly ill. I was sick of sailing. Being cooped up on a ship that tossed back 'n fore certainly got tiring smartly. I found meself fer the last couple of days having t' train the new lad that had jumped on ship wit' us, he was a weak one. Though the entire time on board, I found meself thinking of that girl, day in, and day out.
Chapter 1:
June 23rd, 1985.
Heather Cottage
Poisoned Storm
Normally nothing would have been special about young Heather, except now the fact that she was on a ship full of drunken sailors, who acted more like pirates, pretending to be a boy.
She wasn’t quite sure what she was thinking when she saw the sailors unload from the small boat that they called the Lily-Pad. What could she say, she was on the run from the police and had nowhere to go. She had heard stories about sailors, but really they weren’t true at all. Her mother had even said that her father was a sailor, and that he sailed for England, but he wasn’t anymore because he had perished overboard one of the ships he had been on.
“Wha' are ye doin'?” Finn exited the captains quarters and saw Heather slowly scrubbing the decks.
Heather didn’t dare look into the man’s eyes, she could hardly stand the smell of him either. He had oily long black hair that looked not much better than seaweed and he also smelled like rotten Tobacco. It was early in the morning and the rest of the ship mates were in the hammocks below her.
“Cleaning the floors?” She attempted to deepen her voice like a 15 year old boy’s would. She was still getting the hang of it.
“Ye mean, 'swabbin' the floors?”
Heather cocked her head, “What do you mean?”
“Ye got t' get yer speech right, or ye'll sound squiffy.”
Heather didn’t even want to ask what squiffy meant. Her back hurt from not being used to working all the time and bending over. All of the knotts she had to untie in the last week was making her fingers blister and get rope burns. She wasn’t quite sure how she would make it, sailing was definitely a man’s job.
A few of the lad’s had gotten up and were ready to start their chores. Finn shook his head and grabbed the bucket that Heather was working out of. He took the handle and sloshed the dirty water back onto the deck. The soapy water soaked Heather and also one of the mates that Heather had learned was Roger Starky.
The dark skinned man, who looked more like a strong ox, swung around quickly and slipped on the water. He lay on the floor, “Enough wit' yer bilge, ye lice-infested, feculent kraken!...”
He charged Heather and she cringed as he tackled her. “Please, I didn’t do anything!”
Finn laughed with a smoker's cough and spit over the side of the boat. “Look at the two o' ye, ship-made mops!” He walked away when Roger Starky realized that his fight wasn’t with Heather but with Finn.
“Get back here! I ain't done punchin' yer head, ye lard brained screechy gobshyte!”
Heather layed tirelessly on her back. She knew that the wrap that she put over her chest and abdomen was most likely undone and she needed to fix that before anyone knew her secret.
There was a secret little room in the bow where she spent most of her quiet time. Infact, on most nights she would sleep there. Quietly walking over to her hideout, she pulled up her shirt, after unbuttoning and her tight vest that hardly let her breathe. When she cinched her wrapp tight, almost like a corset, she pulled her shirt back down and put on her vest. She inspected the small ring that she had on a necklace around her neck. Her mother, before she died, said that it belonged to her father. Heather didn’t know who her father was, or what group of sailors that he worked for.
Chapter 2:
July Second, 1985
Finn Lentheg
Poisoned Storm, Captain’s Quarters
Twas normal that the cap'n would call me into his quarters' to study the maps 'n the courses that they we be goin' t' take. Cap'n Van Russlle had always been like a father figure t' me, but then again he was like enough one o' the roughest fathers out thar. As I boarded the cap'n quarters, I didn’t see any maps out on the deck like I was used t' seein'. The Cap'n wasn’t hoverin' o'er 'em instead he stood at the large window overlookin' the sea wit' a spyglass t' his eye.
“Aye, Cap'n?”
“How has our new boy been behaving?” He shut the spyglass against the palm o' his hand 'n turned around. The Cap’n Van Russell ’s face was covered wit' a large scratch that disappeared under the Cap’n head full of' black hair. I thought about it afore answerin'.
“Naught seems t' be out o' the ordinary. He’s mighty quick t' learn new things, and the crew doesn’t tend to beat up on’ him too much.
“That’s good, very good.” There were a couple things that bothered me the most, the fact that sailors were supposed to think and speak like sailors. Cap’n Van Russlle hadn’t been on sea wit' this crew for too long, he still spoke crisp English without an accent. Like the new whelp who had come on-board wit' us.
“I would like you to keep a lookout on the boy. He seemed pretty open to getting on board, just about every man who does or doesn’t know the sea always wants to get on.”
“Aye, Cap’n.” I saluted. As I exited the Captains quarters I saw the new whelp exit out o' the bow o' the ship. I cleared me throat 'n called 'im o'er.
“Aye?” The whelp said not lookin' at me in the eye, I looked around,
“Ave ye finished moppin' the floors?” My gaze transfixed on the spilled water in the center o' the deck.
“Well, no Sir.”
“Don’t ye be callin’ me sir!” I snapped the wrath runnin' through my blood, “I aint no Sir, 'n I ne'er will be!”
“Sorry,” The lad whimpered, “I didn’t mean it to be an insult.”
“Well, jus' about everyone in this ship except the Reverend will take it that way.”
One-leg-Nelly limped o'er to where I stood glarin' down at the lad, “Where's that black spotted Revrend?”
“I believe we fed 'im t' the pet sharks.” I laughed uncontrollably. Thar was somethin' odd about the way the new lad was starin' in me direction. Somethin' familiar' peeked through his eyes.
“Really? That's odd, I jus' saw 'im stealin' me coffer this 'mornin'."
“It's jus' the mornin', how many ale 'ave ye drunk already?”
One-Leg-Nelly shrugged 'n flopped on his rump. “Jus' finished off the ones at the table last night.”
“What did the Reverend do to get thrown over the edge.” The lad asked with his eyes full of fear. I noticed that a black hat had been placed on top of the boy’s head to hide the head full of black long hair.
“Looks like ye, need a haircut.” I laughed 'n pulled the lad o'er t' the edge o' the ship. He stood still starin' at the sea that spread fer miles. I took out me pocket cutlass 'n cut his hair.
“Why did the Reverend get thrown overboard?” He asked again.
“He didn’t get thrown overboard,” I corrected 'n slashed again, this time the lad twitched, “He walked the plank.”
“But, what did he do?”
“He jus' did it hisself, he drove hisself crazy on this ship 'n tied hisself up, 'n walked right o'er.”
“Oh…” The whelp looked down at his feet.
“Say, wha' be yer name?" I asked him.
“I’m not quite sure.”
Well, ye better pick one soon, otherwise i’ll name ye Poop-Deck Pete.” I laughed Uncontrollably
“Chipper?”
“Sounds alright to' me." I slapped the whelp on the back. "Off ye go..."
Chapter 3:
July 10th, 1985.
Heather Cottage
Poisoned Storm
“Come 'ere an' have a cutlass sandwich ye jumped up grass combin' chunk O' bat spit !” Pistol-Grin Gary, a new Sailor, Heather had just met that afternoon yelled. He stood on the table yelling at the top of his lungs with a bottle of rum in his hand then in his other his finger formed together to form the shape of a gun. He fake shot and blew out the smoke.
Silver-Tooth Samuel shook his head and stood up on the table again, “I’ve come here fer a fight wit' a real scallywag, nah a fake one wit' a gun!”
The men cheered as Pistol-Grin Gary launched a fist into the other sailors nose. Heather found herself wincing as she sat on one of the stools in the corner of the room. She looked around for some of the sailors she knew. There must have 5 or 6 dozen sailors on the Poisoned Storm, and though she had been living their for months she still hadn’t learned anyones names.
“Lemme spell out the rules for ye. I win. YOU LOSE! ye chimp faced, rotatin' snot rag !” Silver-Tooth Samuel looked down at the man on the ground. He did a dance on the table and caught his heel on the edge and fell over backwards himself. This time Heather found herself laughing a small bit.
“Who’s up fer a fight next?” She heard a familiar voice say, Finn stood up and the crowd cheered though no-one volunteered to be his partner. His eyes landed on her in the corner and she slunk back into her seat. “Ye.” He pointed the sword he was holding in her direction. The crowd split and all eyes fell on her, except for the ones that dragged her closer to the table.
“The one 'n only Finn Lentheg against Chipper. Galleon your bets!”
Heather glared at Finn, he smirked back at her and demanded a sword from one of the sailors. He gave her his and took the sailors old rusted one. It was a lot harder than she could have imagined and when she held it for the first time it dropped down to the ground.
“Take yer cutlass 'n stand up straight.” Finn said.
One of the boys at her school had once taught her how to fight with sticks and act like they were swords. With all her might she dragged the sword onto the table and took a deep breath. Finn was already on the table looking mighty.
He allowed her to advance first and she did almost strike him in the shoulder until he blocked her and gave her an impressed look, she found herself blushing. She wasn’t quite sure why.
Everything was quiet as they fought except for the clanking for the swords and her own heavy breathing as she fought. She knew tha Finn would win, one hundred percent, but she might as well try.
Her hands were stronger since she had gotten her calluses and she knew that without all of the scrubbing and untying, not to mention heavy labor, her hands would be shredded by the hilt of the sword.
She was also afraid that by the lack of strength that she found having would allow all of the sailors to know her secret. Finn cocked his head and opened up his arms wide allowing her to take another hit.
Again with all of her might, her muscles tenses and she swung again but failed and the sword dropped down to the ground. Finn advanced and knocked her over when she tried to pick it back up.
“O-Hoiy!” Shouted all of the sailors watching. Heather glanced down at Pistol-Grin Gary passed out underneath her. With a quick movement of his arm and sword flicked the tip of the blade. Heather's breath hitched as the sharp point touched against her throat, she slowly felt the blood trickle as she held her head up, just about scared for his life. Everyone in the room was silent except for a stray voice:
“End it fer good!”
Heather looked up and saw a man in the doorway of the Dining Cabin, then she squinted and saw two. It was the First Mate, Ridley, and Captain Van Russlle . It looked like he was nodding at her, wondering what she was going to do.
Her hand shook as she picked up her sword and slashed it against Finn’s shin and he cried in agony as the sword dropped from her neck and he tumbled to the ground. She gasped when she saw the look of hatred in Finn’s eyes.
Chapter 4:
July 11th, 1985.
Heather Cottage:
Poisoned storm.
“Once again I apologize for the fight.” Heather ducked her head and nealed near the Captain’s feet. She also noticed that he was studying the necklace that was hanging around her neck. The pendant was still inside her shirt.
“You may stand.” The man clearly spoke, this was the first time she noticed that he didn’t have a sailor accent like all of the rest of the sailors. He was like her. “Might I see your necklace, boy?”
Heather stood up and carefully slid the leather chain with the pendant of a fake compas from around the neck and trustfully put it into Captain Van Russell’s hand. “The reason why I asked to see this is because it looks mighty familiar. The leather you see is made out of a special whale skin of a man with the name of Nick Cottage.”
“You knew my father?” Heather asked and gaped in awe as Captain Van Russell pulled out a necklace from one of the drawers in his desk.
“I did, he and I were good friends at one time.”
“Can you tell me something about him?”
“I’ve forgotten, I guess you’ve never met him before.”
“No, Cap’n. I haven’t.” She nodded.
“Very well then.” He winked, “Your father Nick and I sailed together for a short time of 8 months. He had shared with me while we were traveling across the Atlantic Ocean to bring medicine for the queen of England, this was how we were given the whale skin necklace. Very few men now have these, some say that the necklace was a curse.” He raised an eyebrow at her.
“Why is that?” She couldn’t help but ask.
“Out of all 10 men that were given this necklace, only 4 made it out of the waters that afternoon. Our Ship crashed that afternoon when we were heading back home. Luckily before your father drowned he had told me that his new wife and him were expecting their first born. I got your mothers address and sent her this necklace, thinking that it would be given to you. His son.” His wrinkles around his eyes creased as he smiled.
When Captain Van Russlle said the name, son, Heather was relieved that her father hadn’t told him that he was to have a daughter. She cleared her throat and deepened her voice once again as she was used to doing, “Well, thank you for the gift.”
“As I can see it was cherished.”
“Very much!” She couldn’t help but smile, “Who were the other four men who made it out of the Ship Crash?”
Captain Van Russlle shook his head sadly, “Me, Mr. Carter Hetherington, Ryan Gates, and the First Captain, Hudson Pavia.”
Heather frowned, none of the names sounded familiar except for Carter Hetherington. At that moment she realized that Hetherinton was Finn’s last name. She gulped when she thought of Finn and the hate that he had seen him. “As in Finn Hetherington?”
“Correct, Finn’s father.” He cleared his throat, “Speaking or Finn. I am sentencing you to Sick Bay until Finn gets better. It was necessary to almost chop off his leg.”
Heather opened her hand taking the necklace back“But may I argue my case?”
“Absolutely not. I saw what happened with my own one eye.”
Heather nodded, after all Capitan Van Russlle only did have one eye.
Chapter 5:
Unknown Date…
Finn Hetherinton
Poisoned Storm.
Finn called out t' the girl 'n eventually got her t' come about, “Please wait! I wish t' talk wit' ye.”
“Well, Sir. I don’t wish t' natter t' ye.” She turned back around 'n stomped off behind a brick buildin' that was named, Tavern Justice. Her rich skin glowed in the sun as she walked. He had ne'er seen such a beautiful girl o' the years he had been alive.
“Please jus' one sentence.” he called out again. He wasn’t able t' see her face the first time she turned around, but he jus' knew 'twas lovely. He turned around 'n saw a nose 'n half o' the girls---
“Finn, are you awake?” A voice interrupted him from his dream. I sat up quickly prepared to reach by my bead side and cut off the person's head who interrupted me from my dream.
You bag o' broken toes!” I lunged at naught, he knew this 'cause his fist didn’t hit anythin'.. A high pitched laughter came from Chipper who was sittin' in the corner o' the cabin. “Are ye laughin' at me.” I threatened the whelp. Chipper put a hand o'er his mouth 'n shook his head.
“You should have seen your face!”
“Ye shall see yer face when I’m done wit' ye.”
“Really, I’m a bag of broken toes?” Chipper still laughed and stood up.
““Wha' wha'?” I asked 'n looked around confused, “Did I really say that?” Chipper laughed once again. I wrinkled me nose at me self. That was somethin' me cap'n used t' say.
I winced as I glanced down at my leg and brought it closer to me. I sat up on a cot with a mug of beer on the table. “Are you going to drink that?”
“Nope, I wrestled it away for you.”
I nodded 'n took a long swig. I hoped that the pain in me leg would also walk the plank. “Ye 'ave a lover back home?” I asked the lad 'n couldn’t help but smile a wee when he once again squirmed in his seat.”
“Well, not a lover. After all I’m only 15.”
“Only 15?”
“How old are you?”
I laughed 'n took another swig o' ale, “So ‘ole I lost count.”
“Oh?”
“Nay, I”m jus' jokin'. I’m jus' about 17.”
Chipper stared at him shocked, “Really, I would have thought you were at least 30!”
“Aye.” I said sadly 'n stared off into space, “Sea get’s the worst o' ye. But no-one ye love.”
Chipper shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
“Such a pity!”
“You know, Finn , I guess you're not so bad.”
“Same t' ye, lad.”
“Well, I’ll let you get some sleep.”
I didn’t like t' admit but I was pretty tired, “Get me some more ale would ya?”
“It’ll be at your bedside when you wake up.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I couldn’t help but notice that somethin' about Chipper wasn’t mighty ordinary like most o' the ship lads I was used t'. Normally after each day the ship-lads would grow open t' sharin' a wee bit more about themselves.
It had taken me a while t' get me leg t' finally hold up 'n wasn’t quite sure if Chipper was mighty helpin' it or nay.
"Glad t' see ye out of sick-bay!” One Leg nelly yelled from the ship's helm.
“I was startin' t' miss the sea air.” I called back 'n limped o'er the side o' the ship. “Do we know wha' we be carryin'?” I played wit' the necklace around me neck as I thought about it,
“Nay. I reckon the cap'n be the only one wit' the knowledge.”
I squinted into the sea thinkin' hard.
“Land Ho!” Huson Jack yelled up from the crowsnest. “Land Ho!”
Chipper ran out onto the deck 'n stood besides me,“We weren’t supposed t' hit land for how long?”
“Nah fer another 3 weeks.” I answered 'n ran up t' the Wheel.” I squinted at the directions that the cap'n had given One-Legged Nelle.
“Was it jus' me eyes, Finn . Or we be chartin' in the wrong direction?
I had also been wonderin' why I hadn’t been called into the captains shillings like I did in the beginnin' of the week. I knocked tenderly on the door o' Cap'n Van Russell's quarters. I called his name. When no-one answered, I pushed open the door 'n me eyes grew wide. On the floor Cap'n Van Russell lay on the ground, a pile o' blood surroundin' him slowly soakin' into the wooden floors. Chipper gasped from behind me. Advancin' o'er t' the cap'n I knelt besides 'im 'n saw that he had been skewered by a dagger in his abdomen. The cap'n took a stuttered breath,
“Who did this t' ye?”
The Cap'n shook his head, “I don’t know. I was stabbed from the behind, then I fell down and was stabbed from the front.”
Chipper was still standin' in the door, eyes wider than an owl, “Come o'er here 'n help?” I called the lad o'er. I saw his legs shake as he knelt down besides me. “Press gently 'n tenderly on the right side o' the wound while I pull out the cutlass.”
Luckily Chipper did wha' I had told 'im t' do. The Cap'n groaned loudly 'n the lower half o' his back came off the ground wit' agony. Eventually when I pulled it out 'n inspected it, Cap'n Van Russell collapsed painfully back on the ground.
I would have been lying if I said that I hadn’t seen the knife before, and I wish I hadn’t.
Chapter 6:
July 28th, 1985
Heather Cottage,
Poisoned Storm.
“Do you ever find yourself thinking about treasure?” Heather sat on one of the stairs on deck. She looked over at Finn who was peeling an apple with his dagger. He snorted,
“Nay. I aint no pirate.”
Down stairs in the bunkers a sailor was singing a lazy tune on his accordion. Heather had learned that his name was Tommy Hanks. One of the young lads whose father had also been killed onboard. It confused Heather a little why everyone on this ship had fathers who worked for the queen at one time.
Finn cleared his throat and hummed along with Tommy Hanks accordion, Heather elbowed him playfully in the ribs, “Sing the song out loud!”
“When I was a lad in a fishin' town me old man said to me
You can spend yer life, yer jolly life just sailin' on the sea
You can search the world fer pretty girls Til yer eyes are weak 'n dim
But don't go searchin' fer a mermaid, son If ye dunno how t' swim'
Cause her hair was green as seaweed
Her skin was blue 'n pale
Down on the ocean floor she said I'll show ye a million wondrous things
You've ne'er seen before
So o'er I jumped 'n she pulled me down
Her face 'twas a work o' art
I love that poppet wit' all me heart
But I only like the upper partI didn' like the tail
But then one day she swam away So I sang t' the clams 'n the whales
Oh, how I wench her seaweed hairAnd the silver shine o' her scales.”
Heather found out that the only attractive thing about Finn was his voice. Or maybe it was just that she was used to the other Sailors singing and they sounded worse than parrots with throat cancer. She looked up for something to do. She saw the mast and the ropes and nets that hung. There wasn’t any wind, “I’ll race you up to the top of the mast.”
Finn smiled, “Are ye kiddin' I’d beat yer sorry arse.”
Before she knew she was racing Finn to the top in the nets, and he was beating her pretty badly. As she climbed and grew tired she probably realized that Finn had learned to climb this when he was a toddler, and did it for fun almost everyday of his young childhood. “You're right!” She called up to him. “I’m not very good at this.”
“It takes a lot of practice.” He called back to her.
At the top she didn’t realize that very far up from the sea would cause the boat to rock more frequently. At the top she had to climb with each movement like the boat was bowing like it had just finished a dance. Finn must have felt it too because up above he slowed and began to come back down. He then helped her down. “It’s pretty scary up there isn’t it.”
“Only when the ship acts like a rockin' horse.” He grabbed his tobacco pouch out of the belt of his pants and dumped some in his mouth. He handed it to her,
“So gross.” She wrinkled her nose. Finn shrugged.
“It’s wha' keeps ye busy durin' the day.”
Chapter 6.
August 28th, 1985
Heather Cottage
Poisoned Storm.
It had been almost a full month since Captain Van Russlle was stabbed, he lay in one of the hospitals in town. Heather,however had stayed on board of the ship while some of the other men had wandered around onshore getting in more trouble than she would have liked to know.
“Hey, you!” Yelled Osh Seymore in Heather’s direction. He hid behind a barrel of cornmeal and waved her over, “Have you seen Finn lately?”
Heather shrugged, “Saw him a few minutes ago with Spinner.” She named off another oily sailer. She didn’t care much anymore, she herself hadn’t bathed in months! “Onshore?”
“Yes,” She replied cautiously.
“Come with me then, lad.” He stood up and walked towards the bunkers. Heather hardly lived in the bunkers, on most nights she volunteered on night duty or tended to sleep under the stars. She was allowed to do that as long as she wasn't freezing. Some nights could be cold but summer was around and she could endure through it.
She carefully walked across the planks and down the stairs. Several Sailors that she recognized sat at the bottom of the stairs, Davey Crue, Alaskian Dime, Seasick Willy, she glanced to see the other figures that were in the shadows. She briefly made out Roger Starky before she demanded to sit down.
Everything was dark and she had an odd feeling about this, or whatever was happening. “We were all told that the Captain was on deck, and I, the second Captain and put in charge.” Roger Starky spoke. The men all nodded except for Heather who stared at the man, he glared at her, “Can I trust you?” He walked up slowly to her. She gulped,
“I shall do my best to be trustworthy.” She nodded biting her tongue. Did Finn know about this little meeting? She was quite certain he didn’t.
Rodger Starkey grunted, “Ever since our fathers died in the expedition to save the queen many, many years ago our captain has changed. He has no right commanding this ship!”
Men grunted in agreement.
“But do you think we’ve gone too far.” Davey Crue spoke up.
“What have we gone too far as of?”
“Shedding the innocent man’s blood.”
“Captain Van Rusell was never innocent!”
Heather's head swarmed like a bunch of bees. Had she heard them correctly, these men had gone against Captain Van Russell and meant to kill him? She dared to speak up, “You mean to say that Captain Van Russell was the one responsible for our Fathers or whoever to be killed?”
“Our fathers?” Davey Cue turned to look at her.
She attached the necklace from around her neck and held it up, “I’ll be darned.” The men ooed and awed.
“Where did you get that?” Rodger grabbed it from her hand. She glared at him.
“Where do you think I got it, It was from my father! Can I have it back.”
He inspected it and frowned, “Your father was killed in the accident.”
“Well, I know that, Lice bag!” She said angrily and slapped a hand over her mouth realizing what she had just said, the sailor didn’t bat an eye however. She was becoming a sailor. “I mean, Captain was kind enough to send the necklace to my mother and I.”
“How do I know you didn’t steal it?” He eyed her. Her heart sank, confused.
“Why would I steal a silly necklace?”
“What is going on down here!” She heard a familiar voice and she scrambled up the steps before whoever was coming down the stairs, which was Finn , wouldn’t have thought she was dealing with these awfull men who had attemtped to murder Captain Van Russell. But Finn shoved me back down the stairs.
Finn stared at the necklace that was dangling out of Rodger Starkey’s hand, “Where did you get that.” She saw him briefly check to see if his necklace was around his neck.
“We are afraid that he stole it.”
Heather rolled her eyes, “You never answered why you accuse me of stealing it when you-”
With a flash a knife came out and was against Heather’s throat, “Say anymore and I”ll gut you like a fish!” Heather gulpled, but spoke anyway.
“Something happened where a man was accused of something that he never did.”
Finn pursed his lips and drew out his own sword aiming at Rodger Starkey’s head. “Let the lad go.”
“I want to know where he got this necklace, and where you got yours.”
“This is unbelievable. Why the heck do you care about where someone got this necklace. It was a gift to my father from the Queen of England herself.”
“Captain Van Russell said that it was made out of special whale skin. My father died on the voyage over and it was found in his belongings. Being a nice friend he sent it to my mother.”
“That’s a lie, Captain Van Russell said that he gave it to her personally and that he gave it to . Cottage's daughter, not a son.” Roger Starkey cleared his voice.
“Maybe he was mistaken.”
“What idiot couldn’t tell the difference between a girl and a guy?”
Heather couldn’t help but chuckle a little. They had no idea… That got her thinking, when would she probably reveal that she was a girl? And to who? She wasn’t quite sure, probably she would tell Finn one of these days, she and he have become pretty good friends. However he was hurt that he threw her down the stairs just minutes ago.
Chapter 7:
Not very many seconds later:
Heather Cottage.
Poisoned Storm.
The conversation was still going when a stray call from up above shouted, “Ship on fire!” Everyone's head cocked as they ran upstairs to see what was going on.
The ship's deck was a fiery mess that Heather had heard by the shouts of all the men that had started from The Captains Quarters and quickly spread out of control. She looked to Finn for what to do, he noticed this and grabbed her arm. They both ran to the captains quarters to see if anything was spared but they couldn’t even enter into the doorway.
“The ships are going down!” A man shouted.
“Come follow me quickly!” Finn choked and they grabbed buckets of water. The fire was spreading up towards a sailor that was up in the crows nest calling for help. The wind picked up at the worst moment and the fire caught onto the nets. “It’s no-use.” He cried of the roaring fire to Heather. “We need to jump overboard!”
“But I can’t swim.” She admitted. He stopped briefly shocked at her statement.
“You danced onto a ship and had been living here for the longest time and you don’t know how to swim?”
“Well…” She was shocked, “No.”
“Very well, stay here and burn.”
“Should I burn, or should I drown. Which one is the better punishment for liars.”
“What do you mean?”
Heather took a deep breath and shook her head, “I wasn’t honest with anyone, and I’m not who I say I am. My name is actually Heather Cottage, daughter of Nick Cottage.”
“What?” He frowned at her. Heather took down her hair that was sticking to the base of her neck and let it flow down over her shoulders. His eyes grew insanely wide as she smiled.
“Your… you're that girl!” He rubbed his hand over his face.
“What girl?” She watched him open his mouth then smartfully close it. “How surprised are you?”
“Something was fishy about you. But I would have never expected… well…THIS.” He waved his hand at her.
“Oh.” She couldn’t help but blush.
The ship was caving in and Finn looked around, “This was my home for so many years, and now I’m seeing it be burned.”
Finn put an arm around her waist and they both jumped overboard.
After word:
“This year, are ship has made some new discoveries.” Captain Van Russell spoke hoarsely. After he was almost murdered and his beloved boat had sunk, he still stood bravely on the Docks of Yellow teeth Cove and spoke to his sailors.
“We’d had stowaways.” He looked in the direction of Heather Cottage. “Attempted murders, and some may say curses. Somehow I see that this is all my fault and I wish to have your forgivenesses.”
The fellow sailors grunted, “It’s not just us that has to do the forgiving.” Heather spoke up, her voice is normal. She saw Finn stand up straighter next to her. He had promised to write whenever he could when he was at sea. Because she was a girl, she wasn’t allowed to sail and would have to find another place to live.
“That is true.” Captain Van Russell nodded, “ And I choose to forgive my crewmate for going behind my back. We must all work together as a team, one ship. If anyone has beef with me, I’d rather we talk it out.”
“Aye, Cap’n!”
Captain Van Russell smiled proud of his crew.
Sailing at night
Ayy, ayy, switch my kite
Your words cut deeper than a galleon
You must think I'm a glide
Ayy, ayy, switch my kite
And every poop deck is snide
Na na na na Pirate Ship
Save me from the midships surf
Surf surf
Turf, turf
Na na na, pirate ship!
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