A Caribbean Tale

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksiesilk Classic Group


A Caribbean Tale

 

Once upon a time, on an ocean not far from here, a young woman was afloat in a rudderless boat. At her feet sat the thing she valued above all else, a tiny chest with four pieces of amber and a vial of sparkling fairy dust. She’d gained these treasures on an uncharted island but had done so brutally—so much so that she would do well to watch her back.

Banished from Atlantis, she had few prospects. And apart from the amber, she had little else on which to hedge her bets.

She saw a ship’s sails on the horizon, noting on its approach that it flew the Jolly Rodger. She sprinkled a bit of fairy dust on herself for good luck, then sat perched on the boat’s bow, thinking highly of her chances. Adrift in strange latitudes, she flagged the passing ship, waving a silk handkerchief furiously over her head to no avail. Her face was shiny and vain, and her hair lush—not at all the tangle one would expect from a lady stranded at sea. 

The pirates sailed silently by, for many were the crewman who distrusted an antic sea, and most thought her a mermaid.

The young lady quickly exposed her fine bosom, and held her head aloft while her beautiful hair snapped in the salty breeze.

“Hard over!” yelled the pirate captain, “bring her about.”

“Aye, Captain, boom about.”

As the pirates tacked, the captain, a very handsome and bombastic fellow, ordered a rope ladder over the side.

The lady used the moment to secure her tits, slipped a rope through the chest’s handle, then tied the entire affair snuggly to her waist.

She grabbed what was left of the rowboat’s splintered rudder and started paddling. When within reach of the ship, she leaped onto the ladder.

Her toes dragged on the waves as she hauled herself up, and a shark glided by.

Tumbling onto the deck, she leaped ferociously to her feet.

A bedraggled seaman tried to pinch her backside, but she checked his hand, grabbed a marline spike, and dealt him a blow on the head.  She pulled the knife from his waistband and stepped forward with bared teeth and threatened with a slashing motion.

“I’ll cut you to pieces!” she warned.

A voice came from the back of the pirate mob. “I fail to see why you gentlemen make it so consistently hard on yourselves. Offer the poor girl tea, for heaven’s sake.”

“Aye, Captain, fetch the tea service, boys, what about crumpets?”

“Well, Goldman, I should very much doubt that we have any.”

“Aye, then it’ll be sea biscuits for sure, Captain. Argh, did ye mark the backside on that lass?”

The good lady, still brandishing her weapon, advanced on Goldman.

“You desultory pig, you’re not man enough to speak of me that way.”

 She tossed the knife aside and took the captain’s arm.

“Thanks for the lift, lover. Strange latitudes, eh?”

“I’ll ask the question, young lady. Pray to tell, how gained you that chest? I’ve seen it someplace.”

The good lady grasped the ship’s rail and stared out over the ocean.

“Perhaps by misadventure, it’s a dream.  I’m guilty of a crime.”

“But, dear, do not equivocate. What sort of crime?”

“Some say a murder.”

“Yes, my dear, but a murder of whom?”

“She was not a whom, she was a thing—a rancid little fairy that went cunting about thinking nothing but good thoughts.”

“You don’t mean to say…?”

“Yes,” she said harshly, “I murdered Tinker Bell. I stepped on the little slut.”

The captain took a step back while an expression of disbelief spread over his face.

Pickles, the captain parrot, flew off the rigging and landed on a spar, “Braaaak! Fallen fairies tell no tales!”

She reached for the captain’s flintlock and pulled it from his belt.

“I’m terribly sorry about this captain.”

A shot rang out, and Pickles exploded in a burst of green feathers.

“I had great empathy for Tinker Bell and Pickles, too, but there’s no use in crying over spilt milk,” said the captain.

“Or cunting dead fairies,” added the lady.

“I shouldn’t think so. Would you mind very much if I called you, Amber? I’m especially fond of the name.”

The captain giggled effeminately.

“That depends. How big is your treasure chest?”

“Well, if you don’t mind my saying, it’s quite large— I’ve had no complaints.”

“I’ll just bet you haven’t,” she said coyly.

But then Amber started to convulse. “Oh, why does your crew leer at me so? Oh, dear, me too—me too!”

“There, there, little Amber, your safety is guaranteed.”

“Oh, good,” said Amber, in her best good-girl voice, “I’m a thespian you know.”

“You don’t say?”

Suddenly, a colony of penguins came from below deck and started diving single file over the rails. One of the pirates, a desperate-looking fellow with a gaping toothless mouth, pulled a squeeze box out of an open barrel and crushed out a tune. He rushed to the captain with a startled expression.

“It’s penguin madness, Captain, penguin madness. The little bastards have been nippin’ salt water.”

“Yes, we’ll let them have their fun, Cradles. On your way now.”

Cradles ran onto the poop deck and started high stepping while continuing to crush the squeezebox.

Amber, disgusted by Cradle’s actions, called for his immediate execution.

“Are you quite sure of this, Madam? Cradles is a fine seaman.”

“Can he tie a sheepshank?!” demanded Amber.

“I don’t doubt it,” Captain said. “Cradles, come down from there and show this young lady your knots.”

“Aye, Captain!”

Cradles leaped from the poop deck and ran up to Amber.

She batted her eyes and looked askance. “I’m sure to be disappointed.” She yawned.

Cradles tied a knot and shook it at her.

“Oh, jeez,” said Amber, brightening, “Wow, oh, wow!”

“Arg, missy, it’s the best knot this side of the equator. I’ll tie a square knot if it pleases you.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said the captain, sitting on a crate.

“I say, Cradles, does a capital walrus impression. Would you care to witness it? Have a seat on my knee and we'll watch it together.”

"Only if you promise not to take liberties, el Capitan.

“I wouldn't dream of such a thing, Amber?”

"Then it's decided," said Amber, daintily snuggling her warm backside onto the captain's knee.

Cradles threw himself wholeheartedly onto the deck and started wailing piteously.

“Oh, how repulsive,” complained, Amber, "I feel I'll be sick,"

“Be careful not to cast dispersions, Amber, you might compromise your press relations.”

"Oh, fiddle dee dee," said Amber.

The captain became very serious. “You’ve had quite a run of it, Amber. But I’m afraid it’s time you walked the plank.”

“I’ve always been keen on a romantic suicide,” she said breathlessly. “Remember me always.”

With that, Amber ran down the plank, dove into the ocean, and was never heard from again.

 


Submitted: July 15, 2022

© Copyright 2022 Laird. All rights reserved.

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