a pirates field trip, ray rebmann [i love reading .txt] 📗

look like his old self in the first place. But

this guy in the funny costume, lying on the floor looking up at me looks all pale and wobbly, like

he had 103 fever and just threw up two days worth of lunch. He’s breathing heavily and his eyes

keep rolling up into his head.

“Don’t let Mrs. J see me like this.” He keeps saying, trying to sound brave and heroic and

all that. But I’m wondering if he’s more afraid she might yell at him for doing something stupid.

I’m not fooled by the disguise or whatever he wants to call the outfit he’s wearing. He’s

still an old man, no matter what tricks he pulls out of his hat…or pouch to be more exact.

I’m scared too. Mr. J’s a pretty smart guy, for a teacher. I figure if he’s in trouble, what

are the rest of us gonna do?

“I won’t lie to you boy.” He’s saying to me now. “There’s a great deal that happens that I

don’t understand. Life’s full of mysteries and while things always happen for a reason,

sometimes that reason is obscure.”

Something like that. I have to admit I’m not listening too closely because now I see the

blood. His bad leg’s been shot down near the heel. There’s blood all over the floor where

it runs down from his wound. He’s making like it’s no biggie but I can see from his face that he’s

hurting.

“…just keep your head and do the very best you can. That’s all anyone can reasonable

expect…”

Yeah, yeah. Sure Mr. J. Still talking like a teacher. I’m surprised he doesn’t give a pop

quiz on all the stuff he’s telling me.

But then I get it. He’s preparing me to take over. He’s trying to give me the old wisdom

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routine to keep me from getting scared. But it isn’t working. I see blood and I don’t want it to be

mine.

He’s going on about “saving the day” and all I’m worried about is saving me.

Why did I let myself get mixed up in this mess. Of course, Mr. J could have asked

himself the same thing but he doesn’t. He really is brave and all that. And he believes I am too.

So I feel bad. I figure he’ll go back in there and get himself hacked to bits or blown to

Smithereens. But I nod my head like I’m listening so the old guy doesn’t think he’s wasting his

time. All the time this is going through my head, he’s still gabbing away. How like a teacher to

talk and talk even long after the class stops paying attention.

He tells me that he routed the other “scurvy lot” but there’s one villain left.

“The worst of the worst, I won’t lie to you. Got me from behind like the treacherous

scoundrel he is.” He looks at me and sees the fear and that makes his mind up.

He lifts himself off the floor with a tremendous effort and leans on the sword. He tells me

he can’t ask me to do this and I should go back with Ms K and the rest of the group. He grits his

teeth. I can feel his pain and I also feel all that strength of his and my own jaw tightens.

He’s standing there, ready to go, the blood pouring down his leg, his face getting whiter

and whiter and all he does is worry about my safety.

He staggers a few feet, takes a deep breath and then falls right back down on his face.

“Lie still, Mr. J. Wait for the museum people or the police. Somebody else can take care

of this.”

But then he does something I didn’t expect. He hands me his sword and his pouch.

The sword’s heavy but it feels pretty cool when I swing it around and slash the air a few times.

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The pouch is light as a feather. He tells me to be careful with it.

“I want it back.” He says.

“Yes sir.” Something in the way he talks to me makes me call him “sir”. And it’s not the

old guy and respect your elders thing.

“No matter how dark it seems, I’ll be there with you.” Blah blah. “I won’t desert you. I

have the utmost confidence in you.”

I wish I felt the same way about myself.

Mr. J has been brave and honest and true. What more could a kid ask for from an adult.

I wish I felt the same way about myself.


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The boys miserable spirits rose when they saw someone swinging overhead on the ropes

from the riggings overhead. At first they thought Mr. J, had pulled another card out of his

magical pouch and come back for them but if it was he’d shrunk.

This guy still waved his cutlass around like a real hero who knew what he was doing.

Best of all, he wasn’t giving the boys any more pop quizzes. Then Huey recognized their

would-be rescuer.

“Jason!” the boys shouted together.


* * *


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Yeah it’s me. Flying to the rescue. Not really sure why I’m rescuing Huey and his

dumb friends but I have to admit the way they cheer when they see me, even Huey’s happy to

see me.

And here I am sword fighting with a pirate, using old Mr J’s umbrella which had

turned into a really neat sword. Just right size for a pint sized hero like yours truly. He even gave

me a card from his wallet that helped me learn how to fly in a hurry.

It read:
PETER PAN Your danger is our adventure.
Nick of time rescues of lost boys, Indian princesses, and fairies.
In distress? You cry, we fly.

The card was coated with some kind of dust. Mr. J swore that the dust would help me to

fly. If I chose to believe.

Hokey maybe but why not? Anything’s possible…they landed a man on the Moon after

all, like my grand mom always says. Although I’m still not sure why she thinks that’s such a big

deal.

“And who are you today, lad?” The pirate asks.

“Same as I was yesterday and will be tomorrow. I’m Jason, and your worst

nightmare.”

To make him feel a little better about fighting a child, I throw in something about being

the scourge of the seven Seas but tell the truth I’m scared. This is no Captain Hook or Long

John Silver I’m fighting, a couple of storybook characters missing vital parts. This is a full

grown, fire breathing, blood curdling pirate. He’s all there right in my face and 100% bad!

“’Scourge of the seven seas’. I like it. A fitting epitaph. You do know what an epitaph is

don’t you lad?
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“Yes sir. A short text honoring a person written on his grave.”

“We both know the date of death. What date of birth shall we have chiseled on your

marker?”

The pirate swings widely with his sword and misses. I fight hard as I can. I’m doing

okay. In fact, I start slowly forcing him to climb back down to the deck.

“Just like Jim Hawkins.” I yell to the boys as I back the pirate toward the opposite

end of the ship.

I can’t help showing off. I didn’t know I was so handy with a sword. Even though it is

Mr. J’s umbrella.

“Swim for it you guys.”

The boys don’t hesitate. They’ve had enough of the pirate life.

They jump overboard and immediately a great swell of a wave carries them out of the

hologram. The boys look like they’re drowning. Sharks circle underneath and far below, on

the bottom of the sea, I can see a skeleton beckoning to them with a bony finger. He’s

standing beside a row of gym lockers.

“Davy Jones’ locker.”

Huey manages to gurgle before he goes under for the umpteenth time.

The pirate throws himself at me and I leap sideways to avoid the blow. Then I start

running around the deck, slipping on the slick deck, trying to stay away from him, dodging

swipes of that buccaneer’s cutlass. But he‘s smart. He keeps slowly cutting down my area of

running room.

My eyes are glued to that sword, the whole time, visions of ten inches of cold steel

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shoved in my belly is more than enough to keep me on my toes.

Suddenly, the ship hits a reef and turns on its side at a 45 degree angle. Water splashes

Aboard and knocks us both down.

We tumble about the deck. The pirate loses his sword as he slides. I’m moving as

fast as I get an idea, so I start climbing the ropes hand over hand. I don’t look down ‘cause I

know I’ll get dizzy. I don’t stop climbing I reach the very top, the cross trees.

But the pirate recovers his footing and he’s right behind me, a dagger clamped in his

teeth. I reach for my own knife and begin cutting thru the rope he’s climbing. I want to cut it

before he can get to me.

“Come closer and I’ll cut it and you’ll drop to the ground below and knock your brains

out” I tell him, trying to sound tough but really hoping to fake him out.

He has this look in his eyes. I’ve seen it before. Over the edge mad. And nothing you

could do or say is gonna bring him out of it until the thing plays out.

“Laddie buck. You have me at an advantage. Let’s talk it over. There’s so much treasure,

surely enough for us two to set up like kings or better yet, congressmen. I’ll be like a father to

you.

“Funny, you’re acting like my father to me right now.” I couldn’t help saying it

I keep cutting through the thick rope as the pirate edges toward me.

“Jason, son. You was always my favorite. It’ll be just you ‘n me.”

“Just like old times?”

I stop cutting. Close as I am to cutting through the rope, I can’t bring myself to do

it. I don’t understand why but I have to look at the rum soaked buccaneer as he reaches

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eye level. I just have to look him in the eye this one time.

The pirate, thinking he’s gotten to me, talks faster in this soothing voice.

“Enuf gold that ye’ll never have to go back to