Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson

Charmed Life

Captain Pembridge

The boys were shown to their quarters in the Never Land by a gaunt, hollow-eyed sailor called Hungry Bob. He led them down a ladder and along a narrow passageway belowdecks, stopping in front of a low opening.
  'Here you go, lads,' he said. 'Your home away from home.'
  Peter, followed by the others, ducked through the opening. What they found was depressing, even measured against the low standards of St. Norbert's: a tiny, gloomy, windowless space, lit only by a spluttering oil lamp. The air reeked of smoke and rotten fish. The floor was bare, except for a chipped crockery pot in the corner.
  'We're all supposed to sleep here?' Peter said. 'But there's not enough room!'
  'Oh, you'll be glad you're close together,' said Hungry Bob. 'Keeps you warm.'
  'But it smells,' said James.
  'It does?' said Hungry Bob, sniffing. 'Not so's I can tell.' Hungry Bob was not exactly a fragrant flower himself. 'Anyways, you get used to it.' He pointed to the crockery pot. 'I put your dinner in the corner, there. You eat once a day, and you want to eat it right quick when I brings it, or the rats'll get it first.'
  The boys, who hadn't eaten since the night before, brightened at the prospect of food. They gathered around the pot.
  'Where's the plates?' said Prentiss. 'And the spoons?'
  Hungry Bob had to grab the wall to keep from falling over with laughter. 'Plates!' he roared. 'Spoons!'
  'Then how do we eat?' said Prentiss.
  'Like the rest of us,' said Hungry Bob. 'With your hands.'
  The boys peered doubtfully into the pot, which contained a darkish liquid. It looked far from appetizing, but they were hungry. Tubby Ted, always the first to take action where food was concerned, cupped his hand and scooped out a handful of the liquid with some small greyish lumps floating in it. He sniffed it, wrinkled his nose, then shrugged and took a lump into his mouth. Immediately he spat it onto the floor.
  'IT'S ALIVE!' he screamed.
  The boys looked at the lump on the floor, and sure enough, it was wriggling.
  'It's a worm!' said Tubby Ted. 'He fed us worms!'
  Hungry Bob picked up the worm and looked at Tubby Ted.
  'You ain't gonna eat this?' he asked.
  Tubby Ted shook his head violently.
  'Your loss,' said Hungry Bob. Then, as the boys watched, slack-jawed, he popped the worm into his mouth, chewed thoughtfully, and swallowed.
  'Moth maggot,' he said. 'I prefers fly, but moth is good too.'
  Tubby Ted turned away, retching.
  'You eat worms?' said Peter.
  'I eats what I can, on this ship,' said Hungry Bob. 'Ate a piece of rope once. Two months at sea, we was. Mr. Slank had me lashed for that, but it was worth it. That was tasty rope. You boys'd be wise to eat whatever you get, because you won't get much.'
  'But,' said Peter, 'I mean... worms?'
  'If you don't fancy worms,' said Hungry Bob, nodding towards the communal bowl, 'you don't want to know what else Cook puts in there. Let's just say worms is one of the choicer items.'
  Thomas, peering into the pot again, gasped.
  'There's something swimming in there!' he said. 'It's... it's a mouse!'
  'Really?' said Hungry Bob, looking into the pot. 'Why, so it is! Cook must be in a generous mood. Usually he don't serve mouse 'cept on special occasions like Christmas.'
  Thomas moved away from the pot. 'I'm not hungry,' he said.
  'Nor me,' said James, and then Prentiss. Tubby Ted was still retching.
  'Sir, we can't eat this,' said Peter.
  'As you like,' said Hungry Bob, picking up the pot. 'This'll make a fine dinner for me. But in a day or two you boys'll get hungry, and I'll be taking this pot out polished clean by your tongues.'
  'I don't think so,' said Peter. 'Look, sir, there must be better food on this ship.'
  'Oh, there is, there is,' agreed Hungry Bob. 'But not for me or you.'
  'But, sir,' said Peter, 'please, if you would...'
  'Listen, boy,' interrupted Hungry Bob. 'You're wasting your time talking to me. I ain't the one who decides these things. I'm a deck rat, not the captain.'
  'Well,' said Peter, 'what if I ask the captain?'
  That struck Hungry Bob as funnier than the request for spoons.
  'Ask the captain?' he roared, almost choking. 'Ask the captain? Yes! You do that! You ask Captain Pembridge for a nice dinner!'
  Chuckling, muttering 'Ask the captain!' to himself, Hungry Bob ducked back through the opening, carrying the dinner pot. The younger boys looked at Peter, who was not sure he liked being the one who was supposed to know what to do.
  'All right, then,' he said.
  The boys kept watching him.
  'All right, then,' Peter repeated. 'I'll be back.'
  'Where are you going, Peter?' asked James.
  'I'm going to go and see the captain,' said Peter. He wasn't sure this was a good idea, especially after Slank's warning to stay away from the aft part of the ship. But he figured he had to do something.
  'You wait here,' he said to the boys, and ducked out into the passageway.
  As Peter climbed the ladder, he heard a drunken voice bellowing. Reaching the deck, he looked around and saw that the voice was coming from amidships, where a red-faced and very round man in a comically elaborate, too-small uniform was shouting odd orders to an audience consisting of Slank and a half-dozen crewmen.
  'AVAST THE MAIN MIZZEN!' the round man shouted.
  'You heard Captain Pembridge!' shouted Slank. 'Avast the main mizzen!' His voice was stern, but Peter saw he was smirking.
  'Aye, aye, sir!' shouted the men, and, grinning, they began fussing busily with various lines, tying and untying knots. Peter didn't know anything about ships, but he could see immediately that they were merely pretending to do something nautical.
  'KEELHAUL THE SCUPPERS!' shouted the captain.
  'You heard Captain Pembridge!' shouted Slank, struggling to keep his tone serious. 'Let's get them scuppers keelhauled!' The men were smiling openly now, making no effort to hide their contempt for the little round man.
  They had good reason. Cyrus Pembridge was easily the worst captain in British nautical history. He had never bothered to learn even the basics of seamanship, choosing instead to occupy his time consuming vast quantities of rum. He held command of the Never Land solely because his wife's family owned a shipping line, and his wife detested him. She had insisted that he be given a ship, her thinking being that he would be away from home most of the time; ideally, he would manage to sink his ship, and thus be out of her life altogether.
  The shipping company, following sound business practices, had given Pembridge its most worthless ship, staffed with the most incompetent and disposable crew. The crew had quickly recognized that it was suicide to try to follow Pembridge's commands, which never made sense anyway. It was Slank who ran the Never Land. But on those rare occasions when Pembridge staggered out on deck, Slank and the crew amused themselves by pretending to obey him.
  'CAST OFF THE AFT BINNACLE,' Pembridge was shouting.
  'Cast off that binnacle!' repeated Slank to the grinning crew.
  Pembridge turned around and looked at Slank, as if seeing him for the first time.
  'Who are you?' he said. 'And why are you shouting?'
  'I'm your first officer, sir,' said Slank. 'Mr. Slank. I'm just relaying your orders to the crew.'
  'Ah,' said Pembridge.
  'The aft binnacle has bee cast off, sir,' said Slank.
  'The what?' said Pembridge.
  'The aft binnacle,' said Slank. 'As you ordered.'
  'I did?' said Pembridge, squinting suspiciously. 'When?'
  'Just now, sir,' said Slank.
  'Who are you again?' he said.
  'Your first officer, sir,' said Slank.
  Pembridge blinked again.
  'My head hurts,' he said.
  'Perhaps the captain would like to go to his cabin,' said Slank.
  'You don't tell me what to do,' said Pembridge. 'I'm the captain.'
  'Yes, sir,' said Slank.
  'I'm going to my cabin,' said Pembridge.
  'Yes, sir.'
  The round man took a step, then stopped, frowning, his round body teetering.
  'Which way is my cabin?' he said.
  'That way, Captain Pembridge,' said Slank, pointing aft.
  Pembridge teetered off. Behind him, the crewmen burst into laughter, only to be silenced by a scowl from Slank.
  'That's enough,' he shouted. 'Back to work.'
  From behind a mast, Peter watched Pembridge stagger aft. Now seemed as good a time as any to try to talk to him. Peter stepped out from behind the mast and...
  'YOU! RUNT!' bellowed Slank. The man saw everything. 'WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU' RE GOING?'
  'Nowhere, sir,' said Peter.
  'That's right,' said Slank, striding toward Peter. 'You're going nowhere. You're to stay below, and you're to come out when I say you can. We got work to do on this ship, and we don't need you in the way. You follow me, runt?'
  'Yes, sir.'
  'Can you swim, runt?'
  'I don't know, sir.'
  'Well, you'll find out quick enough if I see you on deck again without my permission.'
  'Yes, sir,' said Peter. Feeling Slank's glare on his back, he turned and went back down the ladderway, back to the cramped and smelly little cabin. As he entered, the other boys all looked at him hopefully.
  'What did the captain say?' said Tubby Ted. 'Can we have some real food?'
  'Yes, Peter,' said James. 'What did the captain say?'
  'I... well,' said Peter, '... I didn't talk to him just yet.'
  The boys' faces fell. James looked down, and sniffed.
  'But I will!' said Peter. 'I'll talk to him. Just not right now. But don't you worry,' he said putting his hand on James's shoulder. 'We'll be fine. I have a plan.'
  'You do?' said James, looking up. 'Really?'
  'Of course I do,' said Peter, patting his shoulder.
  'Oh, good,' said James. 'Because I'm hungry.'
  'I'm starving,' said Tubby Ted.
  'We'll have real food soon enough,' said Peter. 'I promise.'
  And as he saw the hope return to the eyes of the other boys, Peter thought: I need a plan.

Peter And The Starcatchers ©Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson, 2006. Published by Walker Books.