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Stealing the First Mate

By Tabitha Bouldin

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For every great day aboard the Pirate’s Treasure, there were days capable of making Nigel “Davy” Jones want to hurl his tricorn replica hat into the ocean. After he’d stabbed it with his cutlass and burned the wool contraption to cinders, he would spread its ashes over Mimosa’s salty shores. This Saturday morning walked the tightrope between joy and disaster.
Shoving those thoughts into the furthest recesses where they wouldn’t frighten customers—especially the little ones—Nigel lowered his towering height to four-year-old levels by squatting on the balls of his feet. Good thing he wasn’t a cowboy wearing spurs.
He worked his voice into a tender cadence. “You’re certain?”
Blond pigtails bobbed. With a sniffle, his latest reluctant swabbie—aka helper—scrubbed tears from her eyes and hiccupped. “Davy Jones is scary.” Her shoulders trembled, followed by a deep sob. “I don’t wanna go.”
Legs trembling from the pressure of holding the same position, Nigel rocked back until he could sit on the deck and cross his legs. The deck shifted beneath them as the engines chugged, pulling them across open water. Despite the girl’s insistence she wanted nothing to do with the pirate boat tour around Independence Islands, they were already aboard and on their way.
He swiped the tricorn off his head and settled it in his lap. The long, purple plume tucked into the hatband danced beneath the girl’s chin. She giggled and sniffled. How do kids do that?
The crew shouted from behind Nigel, their signal the skit had begun. Nigel waved, indicating they should proceed without him. Captain Black would tell the tale of Reginald Merriweather as they sailed from Mimosa, past Merriweather, and back again. Voices chorused together in song and stomping feet beat a rhythm across the deck. The boards beneath Nigel shivered with the impact of a dozen pairs of boots.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Nigel spun the hat in a slow circle, making the feather dance.
With a nod, the young girl reached out to stroke the feather. Her parents clasped their hands together, fingers flat in prayerful repose, their eyes pleading with him to convince their baby the pirates aboard Pirate’s Treasure would not throw her to Davy Jones’ locker.
Treasure’s owner, Mr. Riggins, had a NO REFUND policy that caused parental angst often enough Nigel had an entire spiel prepared for most situations. This though. This was a first. Her insistence that he was THE Davy Jones had sucker-punched him. Her fear had been palpable, and his need to fix the world reared its haughty head.
“I’m not a real pirate. My name is Nigel.” He held out a hand. Keeping his distance, he allowed the girl to choose whether she would shake his hand. “I’m only pretending. Like in the movies.”
Tiny fingers grazed his palm as her gaze jerked up to meet his. “I’m CC.”
“Pleasure to meet you, CC.” He dropped the tricorn onto her head, and she laughed when her eyes disappeared beneath the brim. “I promise you’ll be safe with me…and my friends.”
CC sniffed again and palmed his hat from her head. She shoved the brown wool lump onto his head and held out a hand. “Okay.”
That was easy enough.
Nigel looked up at her parents, silently asking for permission. When they both nodded, Nigel stood and led them toward the group of pirates and tourists laughing and singing around the ship’s mast. One couple hooked elbows and whirled around with a raucous, “We’ve got a tale you’ll not believe. A tale of a man who walks the seas!”
A woman’s voice drifted down from the crow’s nest. Not just any voice. Darcy. The wind ripped her words out to sea before they could be understood, but Nigel could pick Darcy out of the cacophony without fail. He looked up in time to see Darcy swing out of the crow’s nest and grasp tightly to the rope ladder. Scrambling down quicker than a monkey, she landed by his side with a thump of her black pirate boots.
CC glanced up, and nothing short of awe could explain her rapt attention. Her voice ticked upward an octave. “There are girl pirates?”
Nigel grinned. Apparently, the four other women dancing around the deck hadn’t caught CC’s attention. He couldn’t say he blamed her. Darcy caused the same gape-mouthed expression for him too.
“Are you kidding? We’re the best pirates.” Darcy patted the blunderbusses strapped crossways over her hips. “No one messes with girl pirates.”
Before CC could respond, a loud squawk swamped the shouting and dancing pirates. Captain Black waved his tricorn in a wide arc as his other hand spun the captain’s wheel. “Bernie incoming!”
CC’s eyes widened and tears once again filled her eyes.
Darcy squatted, bringing herself eye level with the girl. “Aw, don’t worry about ole Bernie. He’ll land up there with Cap’n.” She winked and pointed at the pelican making lazy circles above the crew. “Watch. Here he goes.”
Bernie tucked his wings and glided downward, spinning through the currents like a wobbly top. With another long squawk and an impressive wing flap, Bernie landed on the table to the Captain’s left. He bobbed his head and waddled to the edge before reaching out his bill and butting Captain Black’s shoulder.
CC’s eyes threatened to pop from their sockets if she spread them any wider. “Wow. Wait’ll I tell my friends I saw pirates with a pet pelican.” She took her parents’ hands and pulled them toward the group of kids watching Captain Black interact with Bernie.
Darcy grinned and popped upright. A regular jack-in-the-box, that one. Never could sit still for long. Drove their teachers crazy, and since they were all homeschooled together, Nigel had been privy to every moment of Darcy’s immense personality.
She elbowed Nigel in the ribs and wiggled her heavily penciled eyebrows. Her pirate makeup never ceased to amuse as she always went over the top with heavy eyeliner and super thick eyebrows. Her lips were scarlet today, something he’d been trying to avoid noticing since she stepped aboard just before sunrise.
Nigel nudged her back and cackled when she pursed her lips in a pout. Her straight, black hair teased her cheeks as the wind whipped over the bow. He liked her curls better. The days she let the natural curls spring around her face in long ringlets, he ached to twist one around his fingers. Darcy thought the curls made her look too much like her ancestor, the infamous pirate Anne Bonny. She despised the legacy Bonny’d left behind and always looked for a way to separate herself from her history. Hard to do when your dad operated a pirate boat tour that regaled tourists with pirate legends.
Nigel’s fake dreads scratched against his neck, a familiar sensation after so many years aboard ship. The familiar silence caressed his soul with a lover’s touch. Too bad he could never tell Darcy how much he loved every piece of her past and her present. Or how much he longed to become part of her future. She’d become his treasure so long ago there wasn’t a time in his memory when he’d not been in love with her.
“I’m always surprised how good you are with the kids.” Darcy stuck her thumbs in her leather belt and rocked back on her heels.
“You shouldn’t be. I love kids. They’re the reason I’m out here sweating to death in a made-up pirate costume.” Nigel mimicked her stance, his cutlass hilts bumping against his wrists and bringing him fully back to where they stood and the woman he could never have. “You should go out with us more. Most of this new crew doesn’t even know who you are.”
Darcy’s gaze jumped to meet his, her blue eyes narrowing to slits. “And I don’t want them to know. I don’t want special treatment because Dad owns the Treasure.”
“Best not let them see you slacking then.” Nigel darted into the swarm of pirates dancing around the deck. Jerking his blunted cutlass from his waist, he punched it into the air, hooked elbows with one of the crew and joined in the ruckus of shouts and cheers.
Overhead, the bell clanged a warning. Bernie added a squawk to the clamor as pirates scrambled across the deck. Their tour came to an end, as Mimosa’s dock drifted into sight. Captain Black nodded to Nigel, and he moved toward the cannon on the starboard deck. With a quick motion, he ignited the gunpowder and sent a deck-shuddering boom across the empty ocean. Cheers erupted from the crew and their guests. Even CC jumped up and down and waved in wild circles.
Captain Black steered them with an expert hand, and they bumped against the dock with barely a jostle. One of the new crew members settled the gangplank, then another strung up the rope for passengers to grasp as they made their way down the solid walkway.
Nigel scanned the docks, keeping track of guests as they left the Treasure and returned to Mimosa, where they could find almost anything a vacationer could ask for. A flash of white and gray, accompanied by an undeniably familiar bark pulled him from the deck and toward Mel, his friendly dog groomer, who held his canine’s leash with a firm grip.
Darcy ran past him and fell to her knees in front of Shep, Nigel’s Old English Sheepdog. Her arms wrapped around Shep, who woofed and tried to slobber his way through the layers of makeup. Darcy laughed and leaned away from the doggy advances.
Nigel staggered to a stop as every muscle tightened with desire.
Mel passed the leash over to Darcy and stalked toward Nigel. She halted less than a foot away and lowered her sunglasses, unleashing a full glare.
“Come on, Mel. Don’t give me that look. It was an emergency.”
“Picking up your dog on Elnora, grooming him, and spending hours on the ferry to bring him to you on Mimosa is not an emergency.” Mel crossed her arms and practically sizzled with each word.
Nigel offered his sincerest puppy dog face.
Before he could get a word out, Mel sliced through the air with her hand. “No. Don’t give me that look. I’m mad at you.” Her voice cracked on the last word as a grin wiggled loose. Shep barked again, drawing Mel’s attention.
Nigel pitched his voice low enough Darcy wouldn’t hear. “Mr. Riggins is threatening eviction if Shep doesn’t stop barking and digging holes under the fence.” His hands worried the sash around his waist, twisting the red cotton into a knot.
“This is ridiculous, Nigel. You should tell Darcy what’s going on. Surely, she can help you. It’s her own father making your life miserable. What I can’t understand, is why?”
A crowd of people converged around them, the next group of passengers amassing at the gangplank. An elderly man bumped Darcy, almost knocking her to the ground. Nigel elbowed his way through the crowd before Mel could press her interrogation. Telling Darcy her father wanted Nigel out of her life was out of the question. Darcy would demand to know why, much as Mel had. More. Darcy would not let well enough alone. She’d been his best friend since they met in first grade. Her sense of justice would drive her to investigate. Nigel could never let her learn the truth.

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