Forever Neverland(18)

With a quick, practiced glance, he took in the state of the ship. The sails were unfurled and at full mast, the wind rippling the white material with a dangerous snapping sound. The rigging swayed about wildly in the shrouds, its brass knocking against the wood forcefully. An agitated sea splashed up against the ship’s hull with reckless fury.

In the distance, Hook could see the darker outline of Neverland’s shore against a dark sky. His gaze narrowed as he took in the stillness on the land. There were no camp fires dotting the landscape. No pixies dancing about on the shore like fire flies.

In all of Neverland, it would seem, only he and his ship mates had come to life. Again, he wondered why. It was the wind, he supposed. The wholly unnatural wind. It had awoken them all from their dreams.

Dreams? This thought gave Hook pause. But another blast of wind yanked at his red coat and he pushed the thought away and concentrated on the storm.

Amidst the howling and the clamor, Hook noticed something else in the wind. He had been a pirate for a very long time. One who lives on the sea grows to know the water and the air very well, because that is all that there is. And so, when James Hook felt a bizarre warmth to the wind that should have been ice cold coming off the sea, he cocked his head to one side and sniffed. A new scent was carried on the next harsh draft. It smelled of fire and ash. He sniffed again. It smelled of wine and leather. Once more. It smelled of things he did not recognize – beguiling in their novelty. And there was something else…

At once, Hook came to a decision. “Avast ye, ya bilge rats!” he roared into the wind. His voice carried masterfully, grasping the attention of every man on deck. They halted in their panicked floundering and stared up at their captain. As always, they were at once daunted by his impressive and commanding figure. Hook wasted no time. “Pull the anchor!” he shouted. “or, we’ll lose it!” Two men immediately broke away from the group and ran to do his bidding.

The others waited.

“Leave ‘er all standing, boys! We’ll cut and run and let ‘er ride it out where the wind takes us! Get to yer stations and keep alert!”

There was a brief pause as the men sorted this out in their heads and then a unanimous shout of “Aye! Aye!” Once more, the men were all running in separate directions.

Hook turned and bounded up the stairs to the quarter deck and took the wheel. At the moment, it merely spun slowly from side to side, the rudder beneath the ship floating back and forth in the troubled waters.

In a few seconds, Smee informed him that the anchor was up. Just after he received the news, the ship began to list to one side. Expertly, Hook spun the wheel in the other direction, leveling the ship once more.

The wind beckoned in the sails, pulling the giant frigate so that it cut through the water like the fin of a shark.

“Well, blow me down, Cap’n. Under this wind and these sails, I’d swear we must be doin’ fifteen knots,” Smee said, from where he stood behind Hook’s right shoulder.

“Be ready to take down the main and the fore, Smee. If the wind grows much more, I’ll not have the Jolly Roger stripped to pieces.”

“Aye, Cap’n.” Smee left to speak with the men, who assumed stations beside the fore mast and the main mast. When he returned to Hook’s side, the captain had more orders for him.

“Have a dozen men readied on the gun deck. I’ve a feeling, Smee…”

“I agree Cap’n.. Will do.” Again, Smee left, and Hook was once more alone with the wheel and the wind.

The ship began to list to one side again, and again, he straightened it. Something poked at his chest through the white ruffles of his shirt. He frowned and reached into his pocket, pulling out the folded map he had placed there earlier.

With his hook holding the wheel steady, the captain expertly unfolded the map with one hand. He gazed down at it. It was unfamiliar to him. There were cliffs on one side and houses in a valley. But the roads were so plentiful and houses so tall. . . .It didn’t look like any port city he’d ever seen before. In fact, there wasn’t even a port.

“Smee, what do you make of this?”

The quartermaster was back at the captain’s side and Hook handed him the map. Smee looked down at it for a moment with a puzzled expression – and then turned it around so that it was right side up. “Er… Can’t say as I’m familiar with the locale, Cap’n.. Looks like there’d be a load of booty to be found, though. Is this where we’re headin’?”

“Just a hunch, Smee.” Hook spun the wheel. “Just a hunch.”

“Where be the port?” Smee asked.