Panic

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

            I looked at Hook, and then slowly backed away from him.  “I’m sorry, what?” I asked.

            “I’m not insane, Wendy, I’m perfectly lucid so you can stop reaching for your sword,” Hook said, sounding exasperated.

            I bit my lip, embarrassed I’d been caught, but I dropped my hand.  I couldn’t ignore the fact the Hook seemed perfectly sane to me, and didn’t seem to be out of his mind in any way.

            “It’s just,” I said, and then I sighed.  “I don’t know!  My mother is like, the most reserved person on the planet.  She would never have an affair with, well, you.”

            Hook raised an eyebrow and looked rather offended.  “I’m quite dashing, thank you very much,” he said, sounding miffed.

            I crossed my arms.  “You’re a bloody pirate,” I said.  “Forgive me if I can’t see her and you... together.”

            Hook sighed and sat down on the floor.  I stood for a moment, and then joined him.  “Look, Wendy,” he said.  “I know it’s hard to believe, but you have to look at the facts.  Your ‘father’ is blonde haired, blue eyed.  Your mother has red hair and blue eyes.  You, John, and Michael all have dark hair and dark eyes.”

            “So?” I asked.

            “So you look nothing like your mother,” Hook said.  “Which means you should look like your father.  Which you don’t.”

            “That means nothing,” I said.

            “Your mother is the most beautiful person I know,” Hook said. “Mary Catherine Darling was her name, her parents were Henry and Catherine Trumaine, and she had two sisters, Anna and Ella, and Ella died when Mary was ten.  Ella was six.”

            I crossed my arms, more inclined to believe him.  “How’d you know this?” I asked.

            “She told me, you numbskull,” Hook said, sounding more and more exasperated.

            “No need to be upset,” I said.  “I’m just trying to make sure.”

            “You know, this is not how I imagined this was going to occur,” Hook said.  “I was kind of hoping you would just believe me.”

            “Are you joking?” I asked.  “You say, ‘Oh, Wendy, I’m your father’, and I’m just supposed to accept it?”

            “Do you have any reason not to?”

            I sighed in frustration, and looked at him.  “How?” I asked.

            “I went to London, once,” Hook said.

            “Why?” I asked.

            “Because I wanted some rum,” Hook said, like it was the most logical thing in the world.  “And I’ll admit, it’s rather hard to find here.  I was in the city, and I had cleaned up rather nicely when I saw a pretty young woman in the streets being followed by a thug.  So I did what any gentleman would do-”

            I snorted.  “You, a gentleman?”

            Hook glared at me, and I looked down, pretending to be sorry.  “And scared the man off.  She was ever so grateful, and asked if I would care to take tea with her and her husband.  I, of course, declined, and so then she took me to an abandoned old house on the end of the street and....”  He trailed off, looking at me with a meaningful look in his eyes.