The Child Pirate: Tales from the Granite Countertop

Chapter 1

Her long raven hair billowed in the wind, brushing its curls about her face and throat as she stormed down the street. Close to her chest, she held a tightly wrapped bundle. Determination showed in her eyes; her mind was set.

When she reached the wharf, her grey eyes searched for someone to hold the bundle while she took care of business. You there! Girl! Come here, she summoned.

A girl of about twelve answered her call. Yes, miss?

Here, hold this for me. I shan’t be long. She thrust the bundle into the young girl’s arms.

Why, it’s a baby, mum! exclaimed the child.

Yes. Yes, it is, agreed the woman straightening her blouse and waist cinch. Wait for me in the shade of that tree. She directed the girl, giving her a little push toward a large sycamore tree.

The child stumbled slightly but then regained her footing and hurried from the hot, summer sun into the cooler, shady area.

I shan’t be long, the woman repeated, calling over her shoulder as she ran along the dock toward the ship.

The restless sea rocked the ship with its waves—high, low, high, low. The woman ducked and rose with each rock of the ship.

A man appeared on the deck. Not many men were that slight of build. She recognized him immediately and called to him. Alvin! Could you help me please?

Alvin Mitchell looked up, surprised to see a woman so near the ship. Captain! he called. Come quick!

Thomas McDoogal heard the urgency in Alvin’s voice and took the steps two at a time reaching deck just in time to see the woman struggling to come aboard.

It’s a woman! explained Alvin, pointing at her. We’ll have bad luck for sure.

The captain allowed Alvin his superstitious indulgences. The bad luck of a woman on board ship was one of them. I’ll handle this, Alvin, he said, brushing the man aside. With authority, he strode toward the woman who by now had one leg over the side of the ship and was attempting to control her billowing skirts and raven hair in the wind as she held tightly, working to maintain her balance.

Madam, he called, striding toward the woman. Before he could reach her, she tumbled, petticoats and all, onto the deck. She scrambled to her feet, holding her skirts together with one hand. With the other, she corralled her raven hair which flew wildly across her face. The ship rocked, throwing her off balance, and as Thomas McDoogal approached, she stumbled into his arms.

Effie! he said in surprise. He held her at arm’s length, appraising her beauty. She was still as lovely as he had remembered.

Effie assessed McDoogal’s handsome face. Thomas, she said. Her dark-lashed eyes looked directly into his, drawing him into her beauty.

How long has it been? A year? Thomas remembered their time together last summer.

Yes, Thomas. It’s been just about a year since I’ve seen you.

What brings you here? he asked, noticeably under her spell.

I came to see if you were still alive.

Clearly, I’m alive. I’m in the presence of a beautiful woman. He smiled.

Effie felt her heart flutter, but she was determined not to fall prey to his charms again. She held her gaze steady. I’ve brought you something, since you’re so alive. She turned to attempt scaling the ship’s wall again.

Effie, wait. Let me lay the plank. Alvin! he called. Help me with the plank.

Alvin appeared from below deck but stopped in his tracks when he saw Effie.

Captain! A woman! A woman! He cowered, crossing his index fingers in front of his face in the sign of an X. A hex on you, oh woman, for bringing bad luck to our ship.

Yes, yes, Alvin, said McDoogal impatiently. Give me a hand with this plank so she may leave.

Obediently Alvin rushed to the plank and lifted one end while his captain lifted the other. Together they fitted it into the slot. McDoogal extended his hand gallantly to Effie, assisting her departure from the ship.

She looked at him, smiling sweetly. I shall be right back. Grasping the side of her skirts to keep them from blowing over her head, she strode up the wharf until she reached the shade of the sycamore tree.

Beneath the tree, the young girl paced, making every effort to soothe the screaming baby. I can’t make him stop crying, mum! she said desperately.

Here, give him to me, directed Effie. As soon as the baby was in her arms, the crying ceased. Thank you for your help, she said to the girl. She tossed a coin from her pocket at the girl, then stormed off toward the ship again.

Thomas McDoogal waited on the deck. He smiled when he saw Effie return.

Effie paused at the edge of the plank, clutching the baby tightly, steadying herself for what lay ahead.

Again Thomas guided her arm as she walked across the plank.

What have we here? he asked full of curiosity.

Effie thrust the baby into his arms. Here! Take him. He’s yours! I’ve had enough of the brat! Her grey eyes stormed with fury. With one swift movement, she spun on her heel and ran away as fast as she could.

Thomas McDoogal watched the white of her petticoats blowing in the wind as she retreated. He looked at the bundle in his arms. When he pulled back the blanket, the baby’s red face puckered up. A loud wail filled the air.

Alvin ran to the captain’s side. What’s this? A baby? Where did it come from?

The captain raised his eyes in the direction of Effie, who by now had left the wharf and showed nothing but her back as she ran away.

See, Captain, I told you women on ships were bad luck!

Waaah! Waaah! wailed the baby.

Chapter 2

Effie! Wait! called McDoogal jolting to his senses. Awkwardly he hoisted himself onto the plank, a difficult task considering that he held the baby at arm’s length. Clumsily he found his footing on the dock.

The baby sensed his uneasiness and wailed even louder than before.

There, there, he said to the baby. Effie, come back! he called plaintively.

Effie lifted her skirts high to accommodate her legs and ran as hard as she could in an opposite direction from Thomas McDoogal. She had her own life to live, and it clearly did not include a bawling baby.

Junie Edwards rushed to the side of the ship. His expression showed concern as he called, Captain, I have already begun to prepare the ship for departure. That was your order, wasn’t it, Captain?

Thomas McDoogal did not respond. He was intent upon catching up with Effie and returning the gift she had just bestowed upon him. He stumbled onto land and ran to the young girl who stood, taking in the whole scene, from under the sycamore tree.

Girl, what is your name? beckoned Thomas McDoogal

Fannie, replied the girl.

Here, Fannie, take this crying baby! commanded McDoogal. Perspiration stood in droplets on his brow. His red face registered the perplexity of the situation.

Fannie held up her hands to fend McDoogal off. Oh, no thank you, sir. I’ll be havin’ none of that. My mum has too many mouths at home to feed as it is.

McDoogal thought fast. Well, just hold him for me. I’ll reward you in gold.

Fannie backed away quickly. No, sir. The gold would be nice, but I don’t trust the likes of you, the girl called over her shoulder as she ducked out of sight.

McDoogal had no choice but to pursue Effie and carry the howling infant at the same time. He tucked the child under his arm like a loaf of bread, resting its head in the palm of his hand.

Meanwhile onboard the ship, Junie Edwards, as quartermaster, carried out orders that had been given before the captain’s dilemma. Take your positions, men! We’ll be departing soon.

The deck of the Gypsy Laddie came alive with a crew of twenty-eight rag-tag men. Most wore coats of fine velvets and boots of soft, rich leathers. The mast displayed a British flag. Their identity as pirates was to be revealed only on the high seas. Still, the mission of the ship fixed itself in the minds of all the crew. With consideration to the rule of share and share alike, the pirates wanted to capture as much booty as possible.

Junie barked out orders, eager for the ship to set sail. The Gypsy Laddie’s crew followed without the blink of an eye. Although Junie’s height was a good five inches shorter than anyone on the ship, he’d worked hard to gain the crew’s respect. He could fight with the best of them and on several occasions had saved the crew from imminent disaster.

Alvin Mitchell understood Junie only too well. It was on their last expedition that Captain Alabaster of the Nancy Lee had stood up to Alvin by threatening in self defense to run him through with his sword. Junie turned the focus from Alvin by shooting the rudder off the Nancy Lee. By the time Captain Alabaster realized his only means of steering the ship had disappeared, Junie, Alvin, and the rest of the crew of the Gypsy Laddie stood jeering at him as they set sail to leave the brave Alabaster to fend for himself. Alvin was so much in Junie’s debt for saving his life that he gladly followed Junie’s orders without question.

Most of the crew felt the same way about the little man. At one time or another, he’d saved the life of nearly every man aboard the Gypsy Laddie, an apt name for Thomas McDoogal’s ship. The ship robbed her victims just as the Gypsy Laddie in the song stole the fine lady from the lord of the manor.

Junie took great pride in the ship and in the actions of his men. Respect was mutual. Raise the anchor, Patch, he commanded.

Patch LaTrek, so named because he’d lost an eye to infection and had covered the socket with a black eye patch, cocked his head to the right as he searched for Richard Rastus, an older gentleman who’d recently joined the crew. At 38, Richard was the eldest and joked that it had taken him that many years to realize that he could no longer live with that fishwife of a woman he’d married twenty years ago.

Richard’s graying hair was drawn to the nape of his neck with a black ribbon. He liked the finer things in life and being a pirate offered him such luxuries without the nagging of an old wife.

By its spokes, Patch LaTrek and Richard Rastus turned the capstan, a huge drum around which the anchor cable ran, reeling in the thick cable to raise the heavy anchor.

The baby screamed louder than ever. Thomas McDoogal, sweating, red-faced, and gasping from exertion, held his newly acquired bundle at eye level. What am I to do with the likes of you?

The baby ceased his wails of distress. His eyes blinked at the man standing before him. The corners of his mouth turned up, and he broke into a deep belly laugh. Thomas McDoogal did the same.

Why, he looks like me, thought McDoogal. May haps he is my own flesh and blood.

Captain, we’ve drawn anchor! announced Junie, shouting at the top of his lungs.

Captain McDoogal ran to the water’s edge. The plank had already been drawn into the ship.

Thomas, come now, Junie urged. We’re sailing.

Thomas McDoogal snapped to attention. With greater speed and longer strides than usual, he ran toward the ship. So urgent was the need to be on the Gypsy Laddie that McDoogal held the baby over his head as he waded through the water. With a sort of side-stroke, he one-handedly paddled while holding the infant aloft.

Alvin, give me a hand with this!

Alvin stood on deck by the side of the ship and wrung his hands. What am I to do with it, Captain? he whined.

Bend down here and take this barren. He’s my son, he is.

And in that manner, the baby and Tom McDoogal united as father and son pirates.

Chapter 3

Thomas McDoogal came from good stock. His parents had money, and he had nearly completed his second year at Cambridge University where mathematics and science dominated his studies. It was odd to look back now on those days. What a young whippersnapper he had been! It was hard to believe that nine years had passed so quickly. He could still remember it as if it were yesterday.

Thomas hurried to the high-spired school on Senate-House Hill. The decision had been a difficult one for him. Since the spring day was so beautiful, deciding whether to attend a lecture or to simply lounge about on the grass was a challenge. In the interest of education, he chose to attend the lecture. The Vice-Chancellor, Head of the College of Science, would be speaking.

As he entered the hall, his good friend Benjamin Gear rushed to his side. The Office of the Registrar has sent word that they are looking for you. Their reasons appear grave.

Thomas turned to face Benjamin. In full knowledge that Ben exhibited his sense of humor at every opportunity, he smiled and said, Surely you jest.

No, I’m dead serious. On my oath. Ben raised his right hand. His face showed no sign of jollity.

Thomas recognized the somber tone and wasted no time. He ran to the home of the Chancellor. Upon arrival, before knocking, he paused to catch his breath. Then he rapped strongly on the heavy wooden door.

A manservant answered.

I need to speak with the Chancellor immediately. My name is Thomas McDoogal.

Certainly, sir, replied the manservant. He returned momentarily and directed Thomas to a small, rather sparsely-furnished room nearby. Please sit down. Someone will be with you shortly.

The room’s furniture looked stiff and old, worn from many years of university use. Thomas chose a straight-backed wooden chair and perched himself on its edge.

Presently the Chancellor entered the room. Thomas sprang to his feet, mustering a smile in an attempt to hide his uneasiness.

Ah, Mr. McDoogal, I see you have received my message, began the Chancellor.

Actually, no, sir. I only heard that you wished to see me.

Please sit down, Mr. McDoogal. You’ll need to be seated for what I am going to relate to you.

Steadying his eyes on the Chancellor’s face, Thomas returned to the chair. The Chancellor placed himself in the only other seat in the room—a stiff chair which resembled a throne. He rested his back against the chair’s back and placed his hands on the chair’s arms. The Chancellor kept his eyes on McDoogal’s face as he said, I have bad news. Word has come to me from Edinburgh concerning your family. There’s been a fire.

Thomas braced himself for the worst. The Edinburgh country estate was a treasure that had belonged to his family for generations. "A fire? How bad is it? Were