Walk the Plank: Part Six
"Hey! He's back!" A chorus of greetings rang out as Darkwing
stepped into the Golden Dubloon. The waitress, who recognized him immediately,
winked and brought him over to his own special table in the corner that he always
sat at. A group of his pirate friends were already gathered there, having a round
of grog. Darkwing ordered a mug for himself, then settled down and joined the
"Arr, so where ye been? Haven't seen the likes
o' ye fer months!"
Darkwing quickly tried to come up with something
to say. "Arr, well, I was... on th' ocean. Yes, arr... and then I took a side
trip t' Mystery Island..."
"To do pillaging?" asked one of his friends.
"Yarr," Darkwing agreed, not wanting to go into
"That be a great place t' do some pillaging,
Darkwin'. All the huts are weakly guarded, and they never expect anything like
us to come their way!" The whole table broke out in laughter.
"Arr, well, I caught a ferry back here..."
"Ferry?" one of the pirates asked. "Why not
take yer own ship!" Inside, Darkwing grimaced. He hadn't meant to give away
"Well, arr, I...I..."
"Ah, I know! Ye didn't want t' bother controlling
"Yes, that's exactly it!"
"Makes perfect sense," went a murmur around
the table. The group finished their first round of grog and went onto their
second. By now, the conversation focus had moved from Darkwing's recent whereabouts
to pirating stories from the others. Darkwing tried to join in and not look
Once they had all had their fill of grog, the
pirates began to leave. One pirate stopped Darkwing as he was heading towards
the door. "I know the true story," he said smugly, crossing his arms across
Darkwing gulped. "Arr... ye...ye do?"
"Yes. I did 'appen to see yer ship bein' sailed
by some Pteri a few days ago." The pirate noticed the obvious panic on Darkwing's
face. "Arr, don't worry. I won't be tellin' no one 'bout it. Just thought I'd
let ye know."
"Tell me where ye last saw me ship," demanded
"Arr, I last saw it over by the island's north
coast. But that be days ago. I've got no idea where it might be now."
"Thank ye!" shouted Darkwing as he ran out the
door, headed towards the coast.
Across the island he ran as fast as his legs
would carry him. Many pirates stopped to stare at him in suspicion, wondering
where a pirate such as him could be going at such a speed. Darkwing was moving
too quickly to even notice that they were looking at him. He just kept going.
After at least a half hour of his fastest running, Darkwing arrived, panting,
at the opposite end of the island. Not to his complete shock, he didn't see
his ship anywhere. He did, however, see many pets wandering around the dock.
An old Eyrie with a bandana and eye patch over one eye was sitting on one of
the docking posts, whittling a small piece of wood into a Blumaroo.
"Arr," said the pirate, pausing slightly from
his whittling to look up at the Pirate Scorchio, who was still gasping from
running. "Ye be lookin' fer somethin' on this fine spring afternoon?"
Because he was still out of breath from running,
he nodded. Between gasps of air, he said, "My...ship is...missing and I'm try...ing
to find it."
"Aye. Which ship would ye be lookin' for?"
"The S.S. Golden Dubloon." Darkwing described
the ship in full and precise detail.
The other pirate slowly nodded and looked out
to sea. "Arr. That ship left this dock just the other day. Ye might be able
to catch it if ye got another ship and sailed quickly."
"Any idea where it mighta been headed?"
"Aye." The other pirate lowered his voice and
moved his head closer to Darkwing's ear. "I overheard a li'l conversation among
them pirates... They be headed out to a little island off the coast..."
Darkwing's eyes widened. He knew exactly where
they were going! He gave a nod of thanks to the pirate perched on the post and
ran down the dock. There was a friend's rowboat docked there. It wasn't the
best vessel to take out on the open sea, but it'd have to do. It was all he
had. He quickly untied the boat, thinking nothing about bringing supplies with
him. Using all his strength, he pushed off from the dock and started rowing
out to sea.
The water was surprisingly calm that day. Due
to this fact, Darkwing made great progress on his rowing. After two long hours
of rowing, his arms felt sore enough to fall off, so he took a break. This wind
was blowing gently, so it gave him a very slight push over the water. As the
sun started to set, Darkwing's stomach rumbled. In his rush off the dock, he
hadn't even grabbed a sharp stick to use to fish for food. As the day crept
into evening, Darkwing carefully slid onto his back to try to sleep. He hoped
large waves wouldn't come along during the night to turn the small boat over.
In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but expect that it would happen. So
much bad luck had already plagued him.
The next day dragged by sluggishly. Darkwing
felt too weak to row for most of the day, and there was nothing to do out on
the ocean. To attempt to end his boredom, he decided to start counting the number
of nails in the bottom of the boat. Needless to say, it didn't entertain him
much or for very long. At his most bored points he'd start rowing again, tired
as he was. A second night started to fall, and Darkwing was still making feeble
and useless strokes with the boat paddles. He was so weary that he wanted to
quit paddling for the night to sleep, but he knew that he had to keep going.
If he kept going at this slow pace, he'd never make it to the island! He'd starve
on the open ocean, alone. So, he kept paddling...and paddling...and padd-Zzzzzz....
Darkwing jolted awake as he felt the boat strike
something. What was it? Was it land? He stared in awe at the object he had bumped
into. It was his very own ship. He pulled himself into an upright position.
His nap of several hours hadn't helped to replenish him very much. It took all
his strength to quietly pull himself up the side of the ship. After what felt
hours of strenuous climbing, he loudly collapsed onto the deck of the ship.
It was lucky that the rest of the ship was asleep, because Darkwing couldn't
move another muscle. Unfortunately for him, it appeared that he would indeed
need to move, because the Pteri was climbing up to the deck of the ship at that
"Decided to come back, did ye?" The Pteri leaned
over and spit in Darkwing's face. "I could throw ye back t' the sharks, but
I got a better use for ye." Two of Darkwing's old crew members carelessly and
roughly picked him up and carried him down to the brig in the very bottom
of the boat. Even though Darkwing's boat had always had the brig in the bottom,
he prided himself in the fact that he had never used it before, not even once.
He would be the first one to use his own brig.
Normally Darkwing would have tried to fight
off his own crew members if they were carrying him somewhere against his will.
In normal situations, he also would have kicked against anyone who attempted
to chain him to the walls of his ship. However, in his dire state, he was nearly
unable to move. He could barely think or feel anything at this point.
Lazily he glanced around the room. He quickly
realized that he had never even seen the inside of the brig before. What
a way to see it now, when he was being imprisoned! It was completely dark in
the room, the only light coming from the dim candles held by the Pteri and Darkwing's
old crew. There was an old, rotting bench chained and nailed to the nearby wall.
The floors were nearly the same, and they smelled like exactly like the rotting
driftwood Darkwing had found floating on dank swamps in the past. Several sets
of rusting chains were bolted to the walls. Upon being chained with one of these
sets, the other pets stood and stared silently at him for a moment before leaving.
"That oughta teach ye not t' try t' steal this
ship back," cackled the Pteri as he started waddling back out of the brig.
That was the last thing Darkwing saw before he drifted off into a much needed
sleep and sunk into the blackness of a dream.
To be continued...