NaNoWriMo 2007 Fourteenth Chapter

NaNoWriMo is National Novel Writing Month, in which participants need to write 50,000 words from November 1 to midnight November 30.  The point is to get the words flowing, push to the end, allow yourself to write a bunch of crap, and revise in December.  This motivation and urgency should help a writer put aside the internal editor and excuses that normally stop them from writing a novel in the first place. 

Fresh Water Pirates- Chapter 14 

The Rotten Rose set sail for the North, while Black Jenny kept all the captives chanting, drinking, and ignorant to the fact that they were trapped on the ship.  Men in their spotless deck shoes and loafers were arm in arm, swinging their mugs of beer or grog, singing away with not a care in the world.  The romance of the cool lake breeze, blowing through their feathery short hair, aided in their intoxication.

While the tavern folk continued to celebrate their newfound embrace for the piratical life, or at least their temporary piratical humor, the true pirates were busy tending to the ship, unrolling more sails, coiling and uncoiling lines, and surveying the charts Raven Red Tooth drew from his reading of the stars and keen sense of smell determining the routes.  

Captain Charles verified his coordinates while Raven Red Tooth helped him calculate the route.  As long as he heard the drunk urban men singing and laughing, he knew he had time for fine-tuning the plans for this voyage.  As soon as he would hear the, "What's going on here?" he knew he had to make himself fierce and scare the wits and confidence out of those yellow bellies.  As soon as they realized they were kidnapped, Captain Charles would tuck Black Jenny down to the galley while The Others used their old piratical madness to either turn these men into pirates, or toss them overboard for fish food.  He wondered if Sturgeon would eat the men, or would the eels find them first.

Black Jenny surprised The Others with her gift at entertaining these golf-playing, computer-loving land lubbers for an unusually long time, so much so that the ship successfully sailed miles from the city before the Rotten Rose finally rocked someone to motion-sickness.  It was then, when Sheila was assisting the greasy comb-over guy and rubbing his back, when she noticed how far away they were from shore.  At first, it lifted her heart, and made her take a long breath of air, so fresh she coughed.  

"My God! I have never been in such clean air before!" Sheila whooped and raised her pint to toast the other city folk, but when they looked in her direction, away from the main mast where Jenny stood on a barrel, those men sobered up and shouted.

"What the Hell?" one plaid shirt guy yelled.
"Yeah, What the Hell is going on here?  Take us back!"
"Is this part of a cruise?"
"Where on earth are you pirates taking us?"
"I'm calling my lawyer!"
"I'm calling the police!"
"Seriously, do you work in Vegas or for Disney or something?"
"What time is it anyway?"
"Are we being kidnapped?"

Captain Charles rolled his eyes, cleared his throat, and gave a look to Raven, who was blowing on a small bag of bones before rolling them out like dice to read their fortune.
"Ah, Cap'n, this'll be as easy as takin' the virgin outta Virginia."

The sky blue eye of Captain Charles sparkled under his grand hat, and he smiled wryly.  Before heading up to the decks, he practiced his frightening pirate faces in the reflection off a silver platter.  He snarled his upper lip, squinted his eyes and then popped them wide open.  Tilting his head one way and that, he figured his left side was more grimacing than the right.  He set the platter down, rubbed his eyebrows, and started up to the decks.  Raven followed.

Barley Bob, Dog Face Dale, and Seymour all looked to their captain for orders, for if they had it their way, half these men would have their throats slit and be tossed over board already, but they knew they needed crew members to help run this ship through the next journey.

Captain Charles gave each of the men his one-eyed ‘follow my lead" look, a look they hadn't seen from him in far too long, and it rekindled their affection for their captain.  The Others followed him quietly as he approached Black Jenny's furious party.

"AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!"  Captain Charles hol-lered to the crowd, and they soon shut up.  Cellphones dropped to the ground, and Seymour quickly swiped them and tossed them overboard.  He leaned back to Black Jenny and whispered, "Ye high tail it t' th' forecastle, Jenny, an' I want no sech protests from ye."  She gave him a scowl of disapproval, but could sense the power of the Pirate Captain coming back, and she best obey his orders.

Captain Charles stood on the barrel and puffed his chest to such a large degree, Dog Face felt a bit of competition for chest size.  "Now ye listen har', ye yeller bellied bilge rats! I have half a mind t' slice y'all up from yer jolly rogers t' the thick o yer skulls fer actin' so yeller an useless!  But I needs a crew fer the Rotten Rose, as we pirates be headin' fer new treasure t' the North side, and I be needin' to split me discoveries wi' th' men who get us thar."

Raven Red Tooth climbed up the main mast so as to look over the captain's shoulder to the wimpy men they successfully kidnapped from the tavern.  As he surveyed the faces ranging in expression from rage to tear-jerking fear,  he noticed their bodies reactions range from profuse sweating to the panicked pee soaking khakis or jeans from the crotch down to their socks and loafers.  Raven tried to control his own facial expression to communicate the piratical bloody-thirsty anger rather than he tremendous desire to laugh his eyes out.

Barley Bob, Dog Face Dale, and Seymour took posts on lines up above and around the pansy men to position themselves for attack.  Seymour held a small curved blade in his mouth and a long sword in one hand, in hopes he looked fierce enough to not actually have to hurt anyone.  Dog Face grew impatient, sucking on a bottle of rum.  Anytime he heard a man try to say something to one of the others, or mumble a complaint, he spit on their head.  Barely Bob felt heavy with ammunition and charged with electricity.  The veins on his arms and neck popped out with anxiety.

"Allow me t' introduce meself, t' ye lazy land lubbers!  Now ye have a choice.  Either ye be kissin' the gunner's daughter, o' ye be takin' th' life o th pirate t' heart an make your mark on this har billet fer our journey.  What'll it be, ye shark bait!"


All the men seemed to be confused, standing around, shifting their weight from foot to foot, shuffling keys in their pockets, adjusting their collars and rolling their shoulders.  Captain Charles took a deep breath, screwed his face up into the most terrifying face he could muster, and hollered from the pit of his stomach.

"Ye be a pirate, or ye be fish food!  What shall it be, ye fancy wenches!"

Raven took this opportunity to offer his words of advise, making certain to show off his red tooth as much as possible.  "If ye wan t' save yer life an join us, ye  be standin' in line o'er har.  The rest a ye's be havin' ye head right quick!  AAaarrrgh!"

Every man quickly formed a line to Captain Charles left, just as Raven had indicated with his sword, and Dog Face made a point to continue to spit on the heads of all those who grumbled.  Raven Red Tooth quickly tied Sheila to the Fore Topmast, as in his mind, and most pirates, women are never to be trusted on a pirate ship.  He tied a scarf around her mouth to keep her quiet and still.  When the captain had his crew he could take the time to decide what to do with the tavern wench.

"Jenny!" Captain Charles hollered from his barrel, "Jenny, fetch me a table and quill with th' billets and now!"  Just to be certain the fear hit the marrow of every man's bones on his ship, Captain Charles took this opportunity to walk up and down the lineup of men, poking their guts, grabbing their waddles, yanking on the knots in their ties, and kicking their sandals or shoes.  He glared into their eyes and filled their noses with the sour stench of his ripe breath.  As he did this he marveled at their flowery and spicy perfume, the cleanliness of their ears and static in their hair.  He took delight in noticing their perfect shave, the precise cut of their hair, and the brilliance reflected off their clothing by the moonlight.  They would never smell or look this pretty ever again serving the Rotten Rose.

Black Jenny rushed to the captain with a small table in her hands, and papers stuffed in her fat black belt.  After she set the table down in front of the line, she pulled the quill from her black hair and placed the billets to the captains' left side.  She stood at his side to the left to help manage the line, bringing one man at a time to the quill.

The billet basically stated the rules of the Rotten Rose, including the code of honor, the freedom to take post on any ship of their choice once they reach land, and that each man who signed the billet recognizes that he agrees to obey the orders of the captain, and is therefore not to be held accountable for the actions performed under the force of the captain's commands.  That statement in the billet made almost every man shrug as he signed, usually followed by a comment such as, "Well, thats not so bad", or "Is that all?" or "Can I have a copy of this for my records?"

Captain Charles basically growled at every one of these comments and questions, keeping the entire process as democratic as possible.  However, as a good pirate captain does, he took careful note of the hands signing the billet, and stopped the few he thought were of use to his crew assignments.  "By chance ye be a doctor, man?" or "These be the hands of a mechanic, true?"  or "Ye know yer way ‘round th' kitchen, dog?"

Soon enough Captain Charles had himself an official Ship Doctor, a Slouchy (cook), Master Gunner, Head Carpenter, and Ship Musician.  These men, formally a dentist, financial consultant,  plumber, landscaper, and attorney were given their new pirate titles and purpose, which they each seemed to acquire with an awkward pride.  A realization started to grow within their powdery chests, that they have officially signed their land life away to a new rebellious existence on water, a life as pirates.  For most of these men, from Dickies to Ralph Lauren, their once fear-stricken faces began to harden with pirate honor and the new smell of adventure.  No more nagging wives or endless shopping excursions at the mall.  No more angry searches for a good parking spot, or road rage.  No more musky elevator rides or panicky trips to the airport.  No more long lines at Starbucks or the gas station.  No more annoying infomercials blasting on the television after falling asleep on the couch.  No more interviews from Human Resources or reports for the CEO.  No more time clocks or WebEx meetings.  No more nagging wives.

Barley Bob and Seymour shimmied down from their earlier posts to take up the tasks of teaching their new pirate crew a few basics to initiate them into their new pirate life.  The first lesson was the treatment of their voice from the pansy high-pitched clean talk of their past life to the deep dark and dirty grumble of the pirate lingo.  Several men picked it up flawlessly, while others coughed and choked at their primary attempts at it.

The second lesson was the handling of weapons.  From expired members of their past excursions, a full stock of pistols, knives, and swords were available to the new pirate freshmen.  Many had never seen black powder and shot before, nor had ever held a pistol in their manicured hands before. Barely Bob and Seymour looked at each other in disbelief at how much work and training they had in for themselves.  These men were less experienced than they thought possible.  Surely every boy in their childhood had pecked off a few squirrels and sparrows in their day?  Apparently pistols and swords never existed in the land of khaki.

The third lesson was how to fight like a pirate, from face to face sword play to the ABC's of at-tacking an enemy ship and taking it over.  Again, these men thought canons only belonged in museums, and sword-fighting only occurred in the movies.  This lesson excited the men whole-heartedly and impressed the pirates with their enthusiasm.

The fourth lesson taught the green pirates how to sail the Rotten Rose.  Luckily for the pirates, a few of the past corporate fancy lads had sailboats of their own, and knew a few of the baby basics of sailing, but their strength in handling the lines, and their knowledge of a ship proved em-barrassing at best.  Raven brought each student a pad and piece of charcoal to aid them in taking notes on the anatomy of the ship. From Flying Jib to Bulwarks, the men were tested on their knowledge of the Rotten Rose over and over, taking the initial boredom out of each day out on the large lake, quietly searching for the wealth of a new land in their near future.

What happened to Sheila?  Captain Charles thanked Raven for taking such initiative to secure such a risky member of the ship.  Even though Black Jenny proved through a few incidents and plans that se possessed just as much of a pirate heart as any of the men on the Rotten Rose, Sheila had not shown herself good for anything but serving booze and flattering the sexual humor of all men, from accountants to zookeepers.  Such skills were not necessary on the Rotten Rose, however, but rather bothered both Raven and Captain Charles as potential dangers and distractions to the new crew.  What made the decision for the course of action for Sheila difficult was the fact that they had indeed captured her, and brought her curse upon themselves.  Had she committed any offense against the pirates per se? No.  Had she ever resisted the pirates? No.  This was strange to The Others.  Sheila was no princess with riches to steal and power to use to heir piratical advantage, and she was no skilled pirate either.  RAven could not help but point out once again that truly, women are bad luck on a ship, Black Jenny being the exception to the rule, "she bein' a pirate an' all."

What would they do with Sheila?  Would they "roger her ‘gainst the rails" and toss her over-board?  Raven feared shed drown and haunt them the rest of their lives.  Should they force her to cook the meals and serve the grog, like a slave tot he ship?  The freedom of that position didn't rest well with the rest of them.  Could they chain her up in the forecastle as the Rotten Rose harlot?  Any spreading of venereal disease would cut the numbers of the crew to a crippling degree.  What to do with Sheila?

"You could teach me how to be a frickin' pirate like Jenny, you bastards!" she shouted.  She had chewed the scarf off her face and now had her lips flapping in the breeze.  "I can do everything those nillies are doing?  I can fight!  I can steal! I can be a frickin' pirate, too!"

Black Jenny looked at The Others with a glint in her icy eyes.  She grinned with firm lips and flipped a little knife blade around her fingers in a quick fluid motion.  "Women be particularly cruel, me hearties," she stated in a low smokey voice.  "One mean woman could do more harm than five furious men.  And we can scheme better than the sharpest men.  Ye be knowin' this t' be true."

Thinking on her latest ideas, there was no argument amongst them.  Without a single doubt, hidin' two female pirates on the Rotten Rose could be the most dangerous and risky decision a captain could make, and he raised his grog to the air to salute his insanity.

"Te' th' women pirates, maties!  We be fittin' th' Rotten Rose w' th' most powerful weapons a pirate ship seen in yars!  Te' th' pirate wenches!"

With uncertainty and strange stomachs, The Others clinked their mugs of grog together and pro-claimed their, "Yaaaarrrr!"  Seymour was sent to climb to the top of the Fore Top Mast where Raven had tied Sheila, and let her loose.  She stuck a steak knife up against his throat and growled, "Whatcha gonna teach me first, ye scurvy dog?"

Copyright 2007 Laura Beck Nielsen