Storm over the Caribbean

22. Mama Bear Unleashed

Gaptooth smiled straight at me, his foul teeth on full display. For a moment, just a moment, I hoped that I was mistaken, that the bastard hadn't really noticed me hiding behind the palisade—until, that is, he chuckled and gave a mocking salute in greeting.

Then he turned to Mr Ambrose. "Why don't you invite your friend in? I'd love to meet him."

I could hear Mr Ambrose's teeth grind from where I stood.

"Aye aye...Sir."

Then he whirled around and stalked towards the exit of the camp.

I'd love to meet him?

Meet him?

Oh boy. Mr Pirate Leader was going to be in for a surprise.

Just then, I caught sight of Mr Rikkard Ambrose stepping out of the camp. His long legs ate up the distance and, in a blink, he had arrived in front of me.

"What now?" I hissed. "What are we going to do?"

"Now?" Keeping his voice low, Mr Rikkard Ambrose cocked his head. "Now you'll come inside."

"Are you insane? Have you seen me?" I gestured to my very pregnant belly. "Excuse me if I missed it when reading history books, but last time I checked, I must have overlooked the adventures of all the pregnant pirate ladies!"

"Don't worry." Reaching out, he squeezed my shoulder. "I have everything in hand. Do you really think I would not have a plan B? A plan to safely get you accepted into the crew?"

"You...you do?" I blinked, taken aback. But then again, this was Mr Ambrose. He probably had a plan B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P, Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, X, Y, Z, and Ω. "How? How can any plan possibly work while I'm pregnant?"

In answer, he gave my belly a scrutinizing look. It wasn't the kind of look a loving man might give his wife. No, it was the kind of look a farmer might give a well-fattened pig. What the hell was he planning to...?

"No!" Raising both my hands to ward him off, I backed away. "Oh no!"

"You don't even know what I was going to say, Mrs Ambrose."

"I don't need to! Not when you are looking at me like that! I know that look, and I'm saying no!"

In answer, he simply stepped forward, cocking his head predatorily.

"No! Nooo!"

***

The gate to the encampment stood wide open. The whistling of the wind and the soft whisper of the waves were the only audible sounds as the pirates intently watched for the arrival of their new companions. A moment later, the men's anticipation was rewarded, when Mr Rikkard Ambrose stepped into the camp.

"Well?" Gaptooth barked. "Where is he?"

"Right here."

And I stepped out from behind Mr Rikkard Ambrose, out into the open. "Um...Arrr, mateys? Let's sink some virgins and ravish some ships!"

That's how pirates talk, right?

Deadly silence greeted me.

"What," Gaptooth asked, "is that?"

"That's my fellow castaway." Mr Ambrose shrugged. "You can see why I didn't want to bring him in here. The fellow isn't exactly made for the rough life. Freddy the Fatty here was the ship's cook on the ship I boarded before I got shipwrecked. And an amazing ship's cook he is, even if he can't stop sampling his own cooking."