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‘And that one looks like a ham riding a tiger!’
It was a particularly lovely night aboard the pirate boat. The water shimmered ever so slightly under a blanket of stars, and a pale half-moon was peeking through the clouds. The pirate with a scarf was sitting next to the Pirate Captain on the poop deck. No one else was there. In fact, it seemed like everybody was asleep, although that couldn’t be true, because the pirate who was allergic to garlic generally preferred to stay up all night.
The pirate with a scarf leaned back on his elbows and looked up at the sky. The Captain was pointing out different constellations—which he had recently learned were shapes in the sky and not a feeling of dismay at something unexpected—and making up stories for them.
‘Over there, it’s the Flying Barnacle,’ said the Pirate Captain, pointing excitedly. ‘You know, like the character from my award-winning novel, “Bubble Beard and the Flying Barnacle”.’
‘I’m not sure it counts as “award-winning” if you gave yourself the award, Captain,’ said the pirate with a scarf, raising his eyebrows and smiling.
‘Course it does. Besides, how am I supposed to get recognition when none of those closed-minded editors want to publish my book?’
‘Well in any case, sir, I think your novel truly deserved the award.’
‘Thank you, number two.’
For a few seconds, there was nothing but the sound of waves breaking against the bulkhead, and the far-off cry of a seagull. It was unusual for the Captain to remain silent for so long, so the pirate with a scarf stole a glance at him to make sure everything was okay.
His luxuriant beard moving with the breeze and his pleasant, open face turned towards the cosmos, the Pirate Captain looked thoughtful—almost a little melancholic. The pirate with a scarf leaned in, ready to comfort his captain in case he was thinking about baby seals being hunted again.
But the moment passed, and the Pirate Captain smiled, all teeth and curls. ‘It doesn’t get better than this!’
‘Captain?’ asked the pirate with a scarf, surprised.
‘You, me, the sea. Constellations,’ explained the Pirate Captain. ‘It’s moments like these that make me realize I did the right thing when I abandoned architecture to become a pirate.’
The pirate with a scarf’s eyes stung a little. He would never admit it out loud, but there was nothing he enjoyed more than this: being here, at the Captain’s side, listening to him come up with names and stories for every constellation in the sky.
It had nothing to do with what the rest of the crew called “the captain’s special charm”. It wasn’t really about the luxuriousness of his beard, the pleasantness of his face or the fact that his nose could be described as stentorian, even though stentorian was a tone of voice. No, that wasn’t the cause of this familiar fuzzy feeling in the pirate with a scarf’s chest.
It was something about the gleam in the Captain’s eyes, the little tilt of his chin when he laughed. The way he sank his toy pirate boat in the bathtub, pretending it was the evil giant sponge that did it while making evil giant sponge noises. Or the way he made up shanties about creatures. “Endearing” was the word the pirate with a scarf used—but only in his diary. And to know that the sentiment was reciprocated… He bit the inside of his cheeks and tried blinking the tears away.
‘Is everything alright, number two?’ asked the Pirate Captain.
‘It’s nothing,’ said the pirate with a scarf, fanning his face with his hands. ‘Just… something in my eye.’
‘It’s those pesky dust bunnies, isn’t it?’ frowned the Pirate Captain. ‘I told the albino pirate to stop feeding them—did you know they’re not even real bunnies? They’re imposters! Here, let me see.’
‘I don’t think it’s dust bunnies, Captain.’
‘But what if it is? Imagine having a rabbit made out of dust stuck in your eye! Let me have a look.’
‘No, really, it’s fine.’
‘Come on—’
There was a bit of a struggle, with the Pirate Captain leaning this way and that, trying to get a good look at the pirate with a scarf’s eyes, and the pirate with a scarf looking away to stop the Captain seeing the tears caught in his eyelashes. Eventually the Pirate Captain put his hand on the pirate with a scarf’s cheek to make him look the right way, and they both froze.
The Captain’s hand was surprisingly soft. Well, it wasn’t really that surprising, since he rarely participated in any of the activities that left the other pirates’ hands all rough and calloused. Nonetheless, it made the pirate with a scarf’s heart do somersaults.
And then all of a sudden he noticed the other surprising-but-not-really things about the Pirate Captain. Like how he smelled faintly of coconuts, which was surprising because one would expect a pirate to smell of seaweed or ham, but not really that surprising because the pirate with a scarf knew this already, on account of the many hours he’d spent standing very close to his captain.
‘I don’t see anything in your eyes,’ whispered the Pirate Captain, uncharacteristically quiet. ‘Except how very blue they are…’
This happened sometimes. They’d be in-between adventures and the Captain would say something odd that would make the pirate with a scarf blush and turn away. It usually had to do with his eyes or his smile or his inner thighs. The problem with the Pirate Captain was that he didn’t seem to notice the effect these things had on his second-in-command. He certainly never noticed the blushing and turning away. Or the way the pirate with a scarf would stare at him lovingly for a moment too long at the end of a particularly ridiculous adventure.
But tonight was going to be an exception.
‘Your face just got very warm, number two.’
‘I have a fever. Probably because of the dust bunnies.’
‘That’s rubbish; dust bunnies don’t give you fevers. ’
‘It’s the—err, the—’
‘You’re blushing! And now you’re turning away!’
‘I have to go, Captain.’
The pirate with a scarf stood up so quickly he felt a little dizzy. The sooner he locked himself in his cabin the better. But as he turned to leave, a not-quite-surprisingly soft hand held him by the wrist and pulled him back.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked the Pirate Captain, a look of genuine concern written over his pleasant, open face.
And that was what finally did it. Those curved eyebrows, gleaming eyes and pursed lips. The pirate with a scarf couldn’t bear to see his captain in distress.
‘It’s just—what you said earlier.’
‘About how a shark would definitely beat a Dracula, and how that makes the shark powerful enough to swallow the entire boat? Don’t worry, I won’t let that happen.’
‘No. What you said about the sea, and the constellations, and us.’
The Pirate Captain looked confused. ‘I don’t understand, number two.’
‘That’s the problem, sir,’ sighed the pirate with a scarf.
There was a bit of an awkward silence after that. It was made even more awkward by the fact that the Pirate Captain didn’t let go of his first mate’s wrist, even though the pirate with a scarf tugged a few times. The boat swayed, gently rocked by the waves.
‘I know I’m not always the brightest or the most academic of pirates,’ said the Pirate Captain. ‘That’s not to say I’m a complete idiot. I am a brine-soaked terror of the high seas, after all.’ He puffed out his chest and stomped his feet for effect. The pirate with a scarf laughed and nodded, which made the Pirate Captain smile. His eyes softened, and he leaned in just a little bit closer. ‘But let’s be honest; I’m a lubber compared to you. I don’t know why you stick around.’
The pirate with a scarf looked down at where the Captain’s hand was still holding his wrist. Then he looked up, first at the sea, then the constellations.
‘I’ll never leave. This is where I belong.’
Their eyes met. The Pirate Captain looked like he was about to say something, but he changed his mind and just smiled instead. The pirate with a scarf slipped his hand into his captain’s.
‘Tell me more about the constellations, Captain.’
The clouds parted to reveal a lazy half-moon dangling over the horizon. The Pirate Captain gently bumped his shoulder against his first mate and pointed at the sky.
‘Right. See that one? The three dots and a circle, over there? That’s a mermaid, except with the head of a monkey and the tail of an elephant.’