I figured I’d treat you to a piece of flash fiction I wrote a while back in honor of Talk Like a Pirate Day, included in the “Not Nice” collection, available on Amazon. Enjoy!
“Slap on the irons and toss the traitor in the brig, savvy?” roared Captain Morgan Larch. “Mutiny is a hangin’ offense, yar it is, and soon the crows’d be feastin’ on yer yella hide!”
The same pirates who had whispered support and betrayal to Seaman Jamie Peterson shackled and threw the insubordinate fool in the dank hold of the ship. Rats nibbled on exposed toes and the smell of fish and rot permeated the air. The activity of the ship continued in the wake of the aborted mutinous effort; mops swabbed the deck and the captain bellowed orders which were followed immediately.
Jamie sat in the dark, contemplating the inevitable fate looming, and shuddered. The cruel and tyrannical command of Captain Larch had grown too much for the fair-minded sea dog to accept any longer. If dying was the price which had to be paid, so be it. The traitors left behind would have to deal with their own conscience.
It was dark and cold in the brig; Jamie shivered and tried to keep bare feet from the rats. It was hard to tell the passage of time, but Jamie used it to clear a conscience heavy from a loss of honor over the last few months.
Past exploits came to mind and inspired shame. Pillaging, thievery, spying…vowing to change pirating ways, Jamie felt a sense of peace that had been sorely lacking. A fitting state of mind in which to meet the Maker.
Jamie was startled from a doze by the barked command of first mate Joe Peraulta. “Get ye up to yer feet, matey,” snarled the officer. “Yer time has come, so it has.”
Hauled up on deck and shackles clanking, Jamie caught sight of the noose dangling from the yardarm and swallowed hard. The captain glared from the wheel deck with arms crossed. The leering faces of the crew of pirates showed no mercy.
Until a screeching voice split the air. “Morgan? Jamie? Yooohoooo!”
“Oh my gosh, that’s Mom! Quick, everybody grab something! She’ll have a cow if she sees us like this!” exclaimed “Captain” Morgan. There was a mad dash to clean up the playhouse, to hide the cutlasses, eye patches and handcuffs. Someone scooped up Horace, the gerbil who liked to nibble toes, and stuffed him back in his cage.
By the time Mrs. Larch reached the playhouse, everyone was sitting in their assigned seat around a table set with a lovely tea service.
“How nice, “said Mrs. Larch. “Is there any tea left, Josephine? And Morgan, what happened to your hair ribbon, dear? Jamie honey, there’s a smudge on your dress, how many times have I told you to be careful before church?”
“Yes, matey…uh, I mean ma’am,” Jamie said before she could catch herself. She stifled a giggle at the look on Morgan’s face.
Josephine folded her hands demurely in her lap as Morgan poured the tea.
Athena’s Promise has a new cover and new formatting! Check it out on Amazon