A Pirate's Life For Me

Chapter 8 - Stupid Goose

BILL

At least two days passed before Ramsey came back up on deck again.

The bruises on her legs and her twisted ankle must have been killing her with every step, but she still walked with her shoulders back. Limping is not within the realm of acceptable actions for a pirate captain.

When I saw her coming up above deck, I smiled at her and waved. She let go of the railing just long enough to return the greeting. Her face contorted in pain for a moment.

"Heath!" She called. "Direction?" Heather, who had not seen Ramsey come above deck, jumped in surprise.

"Oh. Hey, Liv!" She waved as well, and this time the captain just nodded in acknowledgement rather than attempting to wave again. Heath turned back to the wheel. "Due West, cap'n!" 

Ramsey nodded, leaning over the railing. She looked over the open sea with a sigh. I could already tell what she was thinking about.

"So what's the plan, cap'n?" I asked, trying to distract her. She ignored me, her mouth curving into a frown as she gazed into the blue. I glanced over at Heath for help, but she busied herself at the helm, decidedly ostracizing us. I looked back at Olivia. "Cap'n?" Finally, she looked at me, beautiful blue eyes blazing.

I wasn't ashamed to admit that I found her attractive. She was a beautiful woman, smart, talented, lethal, and even funny at times with her dark humor. But she'd made it clear to me that the feeling was not mutual, nor was it appreciated, so I backed off. Simple. 

But when she looked at me, I could hardly deny my feelings.

"Just . . . just give me five minutes," She said, leaning her full weight on the railing. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. The thin morning sun glinted off her golden hair, making it glisten every time she moved. I could go on about her face for hours.

"Aye, cap'n," I said, frowning to myself. I knew that Ramsey would be fine. She could take care of herself. Still, I couldn't stop myself from being worried for her.

She changed my life. Thanks to her, I'm no longer a struggling writer in Nevada, doing my best to keep a roof over my head. Now I'm a pirate, and everyone who ever rejected me fears me.

I walked over to the helm.

"What's her deal?" Heath asked, coiling a rope around the mast. 

"You know. Stuff," I answered. No need to elaborate. Everyone already knew.

Heath nodded her understanding, going back to the task at hand. Not knowing what to do with myself, I took the mop and began to swab the lower deck. Slick with salt water as always, the deck presented new dangers now. With the captain already in a state, I figured it wouldn't do us any good to have her slipping and breaking a hip.

Suddenly, a piercing screech ripped through the air. I slapped my hands over my ears, dropping the mop. Heath let out a cry of agony at the horrible noise. Even the captain gave a little jump at the perilous scream.

"HELP ME! HELP ME!" Came a call from the sky. Still pressing my palms to my ears, I squinted up to the blue.

"Damn ta the sea, tis the muckin' parrot," I muttered to myself. "PETE!" I bellowed. "Ye stupid goose! What be ye doin over thar! Stop that!" The parrot, as if heeding my words, fell suddenly silent, circling the ship lower and lower until he finally landed on my shoulder. "Muckin goose," I smirked.

"HELP ME!" Pete shrieked in my ear without warning. 

"What th' heck, ye effin goose!" I brushed him off my shoulder, rubbing my ears to try and rid them of the incessant ringing inside of them.

"What. Was that?" The captain asked, hobbling toward the parrot. She used her sword a crutch of sorts.

"HELP ME!" The parrot shrieked again. I saw the captain raising her blade and I realized I had to do something about my dim witted goose of a parrot before Captain Ramsey did. 

"Get out o' here, ye dim wit!" I poked the parrot's tail feathers with my boot. Luckily, Pete decided to obey. 

"HELP ME!" He shrieked one last time before disappearing into the blue.

"Effing goose," I muttered.

"But . . . he repeats, doesn't he?" Ramsey asked, looking to the sky thoughtfully. I nodded. "So . . . that means that someone near here really was screaming for help?"

I sighed, knowing she was right. Although we could be called dirty scoundrels, good form was the one rule that we all followed. I remembered the captain before Olivia Ramsey. James Ramsey had always said that our roots traced back to Jas Hook and that we therefore could not deny his code.

"Set course due east!" I hollered to Heath. "And follow that goose!"