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Authors: Linda Bailey

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BOOK: Seven Dead Pirates
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They must have
followed
him to school. How many classrooms had they peeked into first? Were they the
cause of the fuss in the office? He scrambled along the wall, staying low.

When he tapped Bellows’s arm, the pirate let out a yell that could have been heard in Shornoway. “GARRRRRR!”

“Shhhh!” hissed Lewis, waving both hands. “Be quiet! Captain Crawley, what are you
doing
here?”

Crawley joined Lewis in a crouch.

“Welllll,” he drawled, not the slightest bit concerned, “the boys was getting a mite nervy about leaving, so I thought it best to give them—just one at a time, like—a bit of practice. So as not to be such a shock when we leaves for good.”

“Shock?” cried Lewis. “Shock? What do you call this?” He waved at his classroom window. Then he glanced over his shoulder, wondering how long it would take for the principal to show up, followed by a posse of teachers.

“Don’t get yourself in a stir, lad. We’re just testing the waters, so to speak. Trying out these new garments. It’s a grand thing for Bellows here and—”

“Bellows?” said Lewis incredulously. “This isn’t for Bellows! This is for
you
, Captain Crawley, because you’re bored with staying home. You’re starting to
enjoy
being out in the world, aren’t you, now that you’re not so scared anymore? Bellows? Look at him. He’s a wet noodle!”

Barnaby Bellows, who had indeed been looking wilted and noodle-ish, drew himself up to his full eight feet. “Noodle?” he said.

Lewis was aware, in his peripheral vision, of faces in the window.

“Get down,” he begged Bellows. “Please! You shouldn’t be here. Go home!”

A cloud of stubbornness came over Crawley’s face. He rose and planted his feet firmly in the gravel. Beside him, Bellows crossed arms thick as tree trunks over his chest.

Ms. Forsley was in the window frame now. She was beckoning.

“Go!” Lewis told the pirates. “Now! Or …” He searched frantically for a threat. “Or I’ll stop reading
Treasure Island
. You’ll never know the ending. Ever!”

Their faces crumpled.

“Nah!” said Bellows, in disbelief.

Giddy with power, Lewis rose to
his
full height. “Go! I mean it. Now!”

The pirates lingered, uncertain. Then slowly they retreated across the playground, whispering and bumping into one another.

Lewis forced himself to look at his classroom window. They were standing there, watching. Everybody. His whole class.

He sighed heavily. Then he trudged back to the front door, shivering in his wet clothes. Mrs. Chan, the principal, was in her office, looking agitated. When she spotted Lewis, she called out. He broke into a run. Reaching his classroom, he burst through the door and slid neatly into his desk.

The only sound was his heart beating.

“Lewis?” Ms. Forsley’s voice was a few notes higher than normal. “May I speak to you, please?”

Legs shaky, he walked to her desk.

“Carry on with your work,” she told the class. Of course, no one so much as shuffled a paper.

“Lewis, Abbie says that man … one of those men … is your uncle. Visiting from Los Angeles?”

Lewis glanced at Abbie. He swallowed hard. “Uh, yes.”

“Well, I don’t know how they do things in Los Angeles, but here in Tandy Bay Elementary, we have rules about school visitors. If your uncle wants to talk to you, Lewis, if there’s some emergency—”

“No emergency,” Lewis whispered, but with the room so silent, he knew they could all hear. “He just didn’t understand.”

“I see,” said Ms. Forsley. “But, of course,
you
understand, Lewis, that you’re not supposed to leave the building without permission.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. He—my uncle—he gets it now.”

“I see,” said Ms. Forsley again, although it was clear she didn’t see at all. Her face was very pink. If it got any pinker, it would look like
his
. “Take your seat, Lewis.”

At that moment, Mrs. Chan popped her head through the door. She was panting, and it took her a moment to speak. “Everything all right here?”

Ms. Forsley cleared her throat. “Fine. I’ll explain later.”

Lewis slumped low in his seat, wishing he had the pirates’ gift of invisibility. As Ms. Forsley drew a diagram on the board, he had an itchy feeling, as if dozens of eyes were boring into the back of his head.

He turned.

Dozens of eyes
were
boring. The most obvious were Seth’s. His eyes were bugging out, the whites showing prominently.

Lewis turned away in a panic. But the thought that followed was simple and clear.

How could the other kids
not
stare? After what had just happened? He’d been arguing with two ghosts from the eighteenth century in full view of his entire class. What did he expect?

He took a deep breath. Then another. Catching his eye, Ms. Forsley asked him a question about the problem on the board. It was a yes-or-no question.

Lewis felt the familiar heat race through his body. He felt the red in his skin.

“Yes,” he said after a moment. His voice squeaked, but only a little. No one laughed.

He sat up straight. Took another breath.

The hot feeling eased.

“T
wo?” said Abbie, breathlessly. “There are
two
ghosts?”

He had ducked out of school quickly, but she’d caught up a block away. She must have run.

He thought about saying yes, two. Then he thought—two, three, four, what was the difference?

“Seven,” he said. “Altogether.”

“Seven!” It was enough to make her sway on the sidewalk. “There are
seven
ghosts in your house?”

“Actually, they’re in my room.” The words tumbled out in a rush. “They live there.” Lewis was surprised how good it felt to say it out loud. Exhilarating, even. He had kept the pirates’ secret for so long. Talking
about them was like releasing a held-back sneeze.

“They
live
there?” repeated Abbie. “You mean … like roommates?”

“Well,” said Lewis, “yes. Sort of.”

“But aren’t they … dead?”

“I know,” he said. “It’s not like you expect.”

“They seem almost—”

“Yes,” said Lewis. “Exactly!”

“And you’re not—”

“Oh, no. I was in the beginning. But then I got used to having them around, and now they don’t scare me at all. Except maybe Jack the Rat. I guess
he’d
scare anyone. And one of them is just our age. Adam.”

“Adam,” repeated Abbie. “How … how did he die?”

“The same way they all died. Drowned at sea.”

“Oh.” She nodded as if this were finally something she understood. “Fishermen.”

Good guess, thought Lewis. Tandy Bay had a long history of fishermen lost at sea.

He shook his head no. Now that he’d begun, it seemed impossible to hold back. “They’re pirates.”

Her eyes widened. “Pirates?”

He nodded.

She searched his face, looking for signs of a joke. “You mean it, don’t you?”

He nodded again.

She let out a groan. “Lewis Dearborn,
you
are something! You sit there every day like … well, I’m sorry, but you’re probably the wimpiest kid on the planet. Meanwhile, when you go home, in your
room
 …” She shook her head, unable to finish.

“I know. It’s weird.”

“This is beyond weird, Lewis. What do these ghosts of yours do? I mean, do they moan? Rattle chains? Do they—hey, you know what? I don’t even know what
questions
to ask!”

So Lewis explained. He told her how it had begun, with Great-Granddad and Libertalia. Then he described how he’d met Crawley and the others. As he talked, they began to walk. The closer they got to his house, the more the wind picked up, and the more they had to huddle together so she could hear. When he told her about reading to the pirates, she smiled.

“Geez. Sounds like storytime at the library.”

“Yes!” he said, excited that she’d seen it, too. “That’s how I felt at first. But later, I started to really like the book myself.
Treasure Island
.”

“Never read it,” she said.

“It’s good. Old. But exciting.”

She smiled again. He was surprised at how warm he felt, even with the wind howling through his jacket. It felt
good
to talk to a live human being his own age.

But as they approached Shornoway, the old nervousness returned. Would he have to invite her in?

She must have noticed. “I’d better go. Maybe I’ll stop at the library on the way home. Pick up a copy of that book.
Treasure Island
.”

He nodded and walked away.

She called after him. “Hey, Lewis?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. For the pirate story.” She waved and broke into an awkward run.

Which
pirate story, wondered Lewis. Then he smiled, realizing she had meant for him to wonder.

Up in Libertalia, the pirates were nowhere in sight. They were around, though. He could tell by the fishy smell. Hiding, thought Lewis. Because of Crawley’s stunt outside the school.

Dinner that night was duck in cherry sauce, mashed potatoes and something called roasted Jerusalem artichokes. It was served with lavish explanations by Mr. Dearborn.

“The food is excellent, Gerald,” said Mrs. Dearborn as her husband sat down, “but look at you! You’re still wearing your cooking apron! It has cherry stains all over it.”

“Oh!” said her husband, whipping it off. “Yes, yes, of course. Sorry.”

“Honestly, you’re beginning to look like my students. They dress as if they’re going to the beach—or to bed. One of the girls wears
pajamas
to class.”

“Sorry,” said Mr. Dearborn again. “But, you know, that reminds me of something. I saw the oddest fellow today, out the window. Some kind of tramp, I suppose. He was roaming around the yard. If you think your students dress oddly, Charlotte, you should have seen
this
fellow.”

Lewis, who was about to eat a forkful of duck, lowered it to his plate. “What … what did he look like?”

Mr. Dearborn frowned. “Thin and hunched over. Pale as a mushroom. Poor soul looked as though he’d been living in a cellar. But the strangest thing was his clothes. Baggy striped pants and a frilly … well, I suppose it was a lady’s blouse. To top it all off, he was barefoot. In this weather!”

Jack the Rat, thought Lewis miserably. His favorite outfit.

“I went out to see what he wanted. I thought he might be lost or ill.”

“That was good of you,” said Mrs. Dearborn. Then, “Close your mouth, Lewis. I can see your tonsils.”

“Sorry,” said Lewis.

“By the time I got outside,” Mr. Dearborn continued, “he was gone. Must have run off. Very odd.”

Lewis let out a slow sigh. It was worse than he thought. The pirates had made at least
two
excursions out of Shornoway.

“Well, never mind.” Mr. Dearborn shrugged. “Let’s talk about something more cheerful—like next Tuesday. Your class visit, Lewis! Mrs. Binchy and I have a few surprises.”

“What do you mean?” If there was one thing Lewis did
not
need, it was more surprises.

“You’ll see,” said his father mysteriously.

“Dad, please!”

“Okay, I’ll give you a hint. There’ll be some food surprises. Well, you probably guessed that. But I’m also going to make a little speech.”

“What?” squawked Lewis. “Dad, you can’t make
speeches
on a school visit!”

“Now, Lewis, I’ve already spoken to Ms. Forsley, and she thought it was an excellent idea. Don’t worry, it won’t take long. I’m sure your classmates will enjoy it.”

“I imagine they might
learn
something, too,” added Mrs. Dearborn dryly.

Lewis stifled a groan. Was there any possible speech his father could make that his classmates would enjoy? He racked his brain. None.

And was there any way he could
stop
his father,
without hurting his feelings? Lewis racked his brain again. Same answer.

His feet felt like lead weights as he climbed to Libertalia that night. Things were getting out of control. He couldn’t stop his father, he couldn’t stop the real estate agents …

But maybe he could still stop the pirates. He
had
to put an end to their excursions.

He opened the door to see Crawley miming a tiptoeing walk. The other pirates were laughing. Lewis could tell what was going on—the captain was acting out his visit to Tandy Bay School.

“For Pete’s sake!” he said. “Listen, Captain Crawley, if you want to get back to your ship, you’re going to have to start to behave yourself.”

“Beeeeehaaaaave meself?” Crawley shouted with laughter, and the others joined in. “Laddie, I’m a pirate! A robber. A blackguard. A thief.”

“Beeeeeeehaaaaaave!” chortled Moyle. “Now there’s a good jest, ain’t it?”

“Beeeehaaaave,” repeated the others, mincing about like courtiers dancing a minuet.

“We’re the scurviest villains who ever walked a deck,” shouted Crawley. “The scourge of the seven seas!”

Before the others could take up the chorus, Lewis interrupted. “I don’t believe you.”

The room went instantly quiet.

BOOK: Seven Dead Pirates
2.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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