The long-awaited…

CHAPTER FOUR: MANY HAPPY RETURNS

by The Fishkeeper

There is not much to be said to a pirate who has lost his hand and his pride to the boy who could fly. So naturally, Smee was at quite a loss when he found the door to the captain's cabin locked. He had tried coaxing, banging, begging, threatening (pathetic as it turned out), singing, pretending to be dead, and swearing every piratical vow that he had Peter Pan tied to a barrel ready to be rolled off the plank to get a reply from the other side of the door.

And nothing had worked. There wasn't a sound. Finally, Smee was reduced, for lack of any other bright ideas, to drowsily repeating the same word. Over. And over. And over.

"Cap'n…cap'n…cap'n…cap'n…"

By now, a crowd of unusually sober pirates had gathered aft, forming an uneasy, shuffling, grunting crescent before the captain's cabin. Smee was slumped against the frame of the door, face pressed close to the keyhole, continuing doggedly till the native hue of resolution was sicklied o'er.

"Cap'n…cap'n…cap'n…cap'n…"

For what is there to do on a ship with no captain?

For that matter, what is there to do in Neverland with no pirates?

The Lost Boys had quickly discovered the answer to that question. Since the pirates had been chased off by the notorious crocodile, and Peter had returned the Wendy Lady and John and George home, there was a distinct amount of nothing to do.

"Hey, Curly, whaddya wanna do?"

"I don't know, Slightly, whaddo you wanna do?"

"I dunno. When'dya think Peter'll be back?"

"I dunno."

"Gee, it ain't much fun like this, is it."

"Well…whaddya think we should do?"

"I dunno. Guess we oughta just go...I dunno."

Without a mother to tell them a story, without a crew of pirates to threaten their mortal lives, and without anyone to lead their mischief, a sort of boring hot summer had settled over Neverland. The island and everyone on it was, in seafarer's terms, "becalmed." All the wind of excitement had blown itself to another world and time. Wendy and her brothers were gone home. Hook and his pirates were defeated. And Peter and Tink had grown increasingly restless, traveling off for distant adventures. The title of the boys who were left behind had taken on a new meaning.

Within the sanctuary of the cabin of his lately-stolen-now-recovered ship, Captain Hook was laid out on the bed, arms flung out and sleeves in tatters. Miraculously escaped and yet still swallowed in his own downfall, he seemed to lie still as a dead man. Rising slowly, he limped to the gilded mirror that hung over his desk like a devilish angel. With each step, he flinched at the figure of his fallen self drawing near. Hair standing on end, twitching eyes rimmed with black and blue, mustache limp and crooked, hand trembling, hookless. In desolation, he stared before him, weakly. Almost soundlessly, he uttered the words,

"I'm a codfish...I'm a codfish."

"…cap'n…cap'n…"

"...codfish...codfish."

"…cap'n…cap'n…"

"…Codfish…CODFISH!"

Hook howled in misery, bowing his once-great frame and slamming the desk with his missing hand.

The droning of his first mate finally ceased. The silence was filled with the sound of the self-proclaimed codfish's sobs.

Until, "CAP'N, PETER PAN IS BACK!"

Odds, bobs, hammer and tongs. This was the doing of that boy.

The snapping, ticking jaws of the crocodile, his one confessed weakness, had slavered after him because of that fiend in green. Peter Pan.

Smee was thrown aside as the cabin door was furiously swung open. Crushed against the stairway to the foc'sle, Smee sunk down, eyes crossed, glasses staring up at an angle. The huddle of pirates gave a great start at the sight of their captain scarred and wild for revenge. His snarling face searched the skies. Never in this land had such a sight been seen. In this moment, the plotting, doting pirate captain was replaced by a soul of pure crazy malice.

"Cannons, Mister Smee." The black eyes narrowed. The stubbly grin widened. "And bring me my hook."

Smee bobbed to his sandaled feet and stuttered, "Y-yes, cap'n."

With each twist, the ghastly golden glinting hook seemed to take over the scene. The pirates were hushed and Smee sighed happily as the captain raised it to his face.

"YOU HEARD WHAT I SAID YOU DITHERING IDJUTS!"

"You heard what the cap'n said." Smee straightened his glasses. "Cannons!"

There was no need to tell them twice. A bedlam of bandanas, bare feet, beards, and busyness broke out.

With a delighted giggle, Smee shook hands with the pirate who was shaking in his shoes next to him. "Cap'n's back!"

A rush of wind filled the sails.

Captain Hook was back.