Gnarly Muffins gave Brunhilda two small oranges and a few nuts before he booted her out of the galley. She pocketed the booty and scurried forthwith; she was delighted to have food to share with her new friend. Snarfetta was still polishing and the sun glinted off her hair peeking out from under the polka-dotted silk scarf, but the girl looked like a flower that needed water. Brunhilda was a little older than Snarfetta (they were eleven and nine, respectively) and bristled protectively at the sight of her exhausted posture. She ran up to her and put her arms around her.
The wind was up and the sea choppy. The sun beat down on the crew. It would be about another half hour before the midday meal was ready. Fortunately, the Captain came out on the deck and motioned the children into his cabin. They approached shyly. Captain Black was an intimidating fellow with his wide shoulders and massive legs. And the Cat sticking up out of the belt.
“Sit ye down,” he rumbled, glaring at Snarfetta, who was very pale. “Ye look right fagged, wench. Have some water.” He poured them each a cup of clear water from a silver decanter. They drank all of their water and he gave them more.
“How’re me men treatin with ye, ladies?”
“They’re beastly,” Snarfetta said. “That one with the scar on his face tole me he was gonna skin me with his kitluss and beat me with a cat!”
The Captain’s face twitched with trying not to laugh. “He did, now, did ee? Well, we’ll see about that. Ee’s got more hot air than a witch fulla beans, har!”
At that moment the fuzzy orange and white Boodlemeister (bigger and lazier than Butterchunk), curled in between Snarfetta’s legs and then rubbed his face against Brunhilda’s leg. The girls both brightened.
Snarfetta became completely absorbed in the cat, and forgot everything else for several moments, talking nonsense and rubbing his head. She got him to chase a string and very soon she looked quite happy and lost the pallor.
“I warn’t in faver a kidnappin ye lasses, but t’was done afore I could stamp me seal on’t.”
“Why don’t you take us home then?” Brunhilda missed her Mum; her home life was a good deal less uncomfortable than Snarfetta’s.
“Arrr, it’s like this: ye goes with us fer now, and we bring ye back to yer Mummy on the way back up the coast.”
“What if we want to stay?” Of course Snarfetta was weighing her options. Brunhilda’s mouth fell open.
The Captain raised his eyebrows. “What, the seafarin’ life for ye? With those scurvy dogs and old one eyed McGee and that hairy mother’s son of a First Mate wot bangs on things?”
“Yeah, and that smelly Fizzy Bottle,” said Brunhilda, aghast at the suggestion of actually remaining on the ship by choice.
“Sure,” said Snarfetta. “All’s I need is an earring.”
Fortunately for the poor Captain, who knew better to laugh at children – most adults don’t know better – the dinner bell rang and he ushered the children out of the cabin before he burst.
And, fortunately for the children, the dinner was plentiful and varied, and the pirates were too busy eating to bother haranguing them, though the parrot, Petunia, took a preference to the girls and scrambled over to them, first pecking at Brunhilda and then at Snarfetta.
Captain Jack B. Black ate alone with Boodlemeister and Butterchunk in his quarters. Boodlemeister purred and J.B. Black handed him scraps; Butterchunk gnawed the bones (and other such dainties) closeby, growling occasionally.
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