Sky Lights (17 page)

‘Steady there, Prof.,’ said Skylights. ‘Temper! Temper! We’re fetching her now, and we’ll be ready for you to do your stuff as soon as you see her.’ He rubbed his hands in anticipation. ‘Get the lass,’ Skylights barked again. ‘I’m losing patience with this whole affair.’

As Fitzsmee left the room to fetch Wendy, MacStarkey whispered to Skylights, ‘We’re no’ really plannin’ to let them go free, are we?’

‘We’ll deal with that problem when the time comes. In the meantime, I need to see that living, breathing, horrible, back stabbing, codfish of a captain. I need to see him stand, and swagger, and laugh. I need to see him as he once was. Then I need to see him beg for mercy and I need to laugh in his ugly, weasel-like face. I need to hear him cry like a baby,’ muttered Skylights through clenched teeth.

‘But first, me old mates, we will lull him into a false sense of security until we get him just where we want him. He’ll be so happy to see us and to know what we’ve been through to revive him, that his gratitude will know no bounds. I cannot wait. Revenge is sweet they say. This revenge will be twice as sweet as sticky toffee pudding, covered in fudge sauce and dripping with honey.’ He continued under his breath, lost in his own world of animosity. ‘And the whole lot covered in chocolate drops.’

Fitzsmee barged through the plastic strips, pulling Wendy by the arms. Seeing her father, she wrenched herself free from the pirate’s grip and dashed across the room. She flung her arms round his waist and they hugged each other tightly without speaking. Then John held his daughter at arms’ length and looked at her with love and concern in his eyes. ‘Are you all right? They didn’t hurt you, did they?’

‘No dad, I’m fine, but what are you doing here?’ Her eyes fell on the table in the middle of the room, still draped in a white sheet. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I have one more thing to do for these
gentlemen
then they are going to let us go free,’ he said. He turned from Wendy, picked up the large syringe he had prepared earlier and walked over to the table. He pulled some screens around the trolley thus hiding Hook’s body from sight. ‘Ready,’ he said from behind the screen. ‘Here we go.’ He pinched flesh again and plunged the needle in.

Coming back into view of the others, he wrapped his arms tightly round Wendy once more and moved her away from the trolley. He knew what was coming. Skylights prowled up and down as he waited for the pirate captain to appear. They could hear movements on the other side of the screen, a rustling of the sheet, some raspy breathing then a thunderous yell.

‘A billion blisterin’ barnacles! Where in the name of Davy Jones am I? What am I doin’ in a bed, with screens round me? Answer me! Ye mangy cockroaches. Where are ye? Who are ye?’ came the raspy voice from behind the screen.

Skylights grinned from ear to ear. ‘It’s us, yer old mates. Thunderin’ typhoons, it’s good tae hear yer voice, Cap’n. Now let’s see ye,’ said Skylights, pulling back the screen slightly.

To their surprise Hook was still lying on the bed with the sheet pulled up to his chin. The pirates shuffled round their captain while John and Wendy remained close together at the other side of the room. The pirates’ attention was on Hook, their captives momentarily forgotten. John signalled to Wendy and, partly hidden from the pirates’ view by the screen, they began to edge their way towards the plastic strip curtain between them and the door.

‘How d’ye feel Captain sir? Are ye able tae get up and walk?’ asked O’Mullins.

‘Ye prattlin’ ruffian, of course I can walk. But gettin’ up is the problem!’ snapped a bad tempered Hook. ‘I’ve nuthin’ on ye scurvy dogs! I’m as naked as the day I was born. How can I get up in my birthday suit, especially when there is a woman in the company! What bilge rat stole my coat? They will pay for this.’

At the mention of a woman in the room they all turned, in time to see John and Wendy about to go through the plastic strips.

‘And where do you two think you’re going, me beauties?’ smiled Skylights. He couldn’t hide his good mood.

‘You said we could go when Hook was alive,’ the professor reminded him.

‘Not till I give the word. Anyway, the door’s locked, so you won’t get far.’ Skylights dangled a key in front of them. ‘Ye’ll just have to wait a while longer, that’s all. And if ye try that again, we’ll have tae tie ye up. In the meantime, we want to see to our cap’n.’

He turned back to the figure lying on the bed. ‘We’ll need clothes for our beloved captain. O’Mullins and MacStarkey, go and find something suitable. And mind, you’ll have him to answer to if you get it wrong.’

‘Stap me vitals, we never thought about clothes for ye, Captain. We were so excited about bringing ye back to life, we just never thought,’ stammered O’Mullins.

‘Back to life? Back to life? You vacant slow witted creature, what are you talking about?’ snarled Hook. ‘Am I dead?’

‘Not now Captain, but you were. It’s a long story,’ said Skylights. ‘But don’t you worry; we will get you some clothes.’ Turning to the pirates he commanded, ‘Mr. O’Mullins, Gentleman MacStarkey, get out of here at once and find clothes befitting our captain. Look lively now, ye vacant slow-witted sloths, and be quick about it. The captain is eager to be getting on his feet, and on with his life once more.’ With his back to Hook, he winked at the men.

A disappointed John and Wendy sat on a bench at the side of the room. The scene being played out in front of them was surreal. Was this really happening? It was beyond imagination. Until that day, as far as they were concerned, Captain Hook was a villain from a story book. Now he and his unscrupulous men were alive and holding them captive in an old crumbling hospital somewhere in Edinburgh. They had no idea how this ordeal might end. They could only wait and watch and pray for another opportunity to make a bid for freedom. John blamed himself for their situation and turned his attention to listening to all that was being said. Perhaps he would hear something that would bring a glimmer of hope.

‘And now Captain Hook, I will be happy to tell you all that has happened since the day you were swallowed by that ticking monster,’ began Skylights, as two of his accomplices left the building.

That was how O’Mullins and MacStarkey came to find themselves out in the streets of Edinburgh very early one morning wondering where to start looking for an outfit for Hook. ‘I’ve seen people’s clothes hanging in their gardens, so I have, since I’ve been in Scotland. I wonder why they do that. Seems to me almost like they are asking for them to be stolen,’ said O’Mullins.

‘Ach no. They’ll be hinging them ootside tae dry. Believe it or not, people here actually wash their clothes. But ye might have a good idea, O’Mullins. Let’s see if we can find something suitable,’ agreed MacStarkey.

The pair crept in and out of a few gardens until they found one with clothing left out to dry. One touch was enough for them to realise that this maybe wasn’t such a good idea after all. The night was frosty and the clothes were as stiff as boards. Next they ventured into a large supermarket, an open 24 hours one, that sold clothes. They selected a variety of items they thought would fit Hook. From the racks they took a jacket, leggings, and a waistcoat. All was going well until they tried to exit the shop without paying. Alarm bells were set off as they went through the automatic doors. They had no idea about the security devices attached to all clothes to prevent shoplifters. They dropped everything and fled down the street as fast as they could and did not stop until they had outrun the security guard who had given chase.

‘What now?’ panted O’Mullins. Leaning against a wall in a dark side street, he looked all round to make sure they hadn’t been followed. His eyes grew wide as his gaze fell upon a poster outside the building across from him. ‘Look, MacStarkey,’ he said, pointing. There, large as life, was an image of Captain Hook, resplendent in his red coat, frilled shirt, black belt, white trousers and shiny black shoes with silver buckles. It was on the billboard of a building called The Bedlam Theatre.

‘It’s himself,’ MacStarkey whispered. ‘Look, it’s the Cap’n himself. Let’s see if we can get in thon buildin’ and get our hands on that outfit. Hook’ll be overjoyed.’ Round to the back of the building they scurried and, without too much trouble, broke into the theatre. Quickly they searched through the rooms at the back of the stage and before long came across a dressing room with piles of outfits laid out on benches. ‘Here it is,’ said O’Mullins, ‘a red coat and a frilly shirt. That will be it, so it will. I’ll take this bundle and you grab these shoes and hose.’

‘What kept you?’ barked Skylights when the two shoppers finally returned. He was anxious to get on with the business of dealing with Hook.

‘It took a wee while longer than we thought to get just the right outfit for our Captain,’ replied MacStarkey. ‘But we think he’ll be affy pleased wi’ these.’

‘Bring the clothes over here, and you two scurvy dogs pull the screens round to preserve our Captain’s modesty while he gets dressed,’ ordered Skylights.

They all waited in silence as Hook grumbled and groaned his way into the garments. A second blood curdling scream from Hook sent O’Mullins and MacStarkey to the farthest away corner in an effort to put as much space between them and the furious Hook. They covered their eyes and peeked out. Their mouths fell open at the sight before them.

‘What’s the meaning of this, ye dim witted pheasants? Ye jackasses?’

There stood Hook wearing white stockings and black patent shoes with large silver buckles. A scarlet jacket with a big bump at the back that made his bottom look enormous. But horror of horrors, a pair of white lacy bloomers peeked out from beneath a full, floral skirt, and worst of all, on his head was a frizzy ginger wig topped by a purple hat, with orange feathers. Hook was wearing the costume of a pantomime dame.

His fury knew no bounds. ‘Son of a codfish,’ he ranted. ‘Who’s responsible for this? Who’s trying to make a fool out of Captain James Hook?’

‘Shiver me timbers,’ spluttered Skylights under his breath to the two pirates who had made the blunder. ‘How could you have made such a mistake? You two are worse than blithering idiots.’

‘Well?’ continued Hook. ‘What’s the big idea? Do you really expect me to wear this?’ He flung the wig and hat across the room. He paced to and fro, his enormous bottom wobbling under the dress and red jacket. ‘Just let me get my
hands
on the joker who did this.’ He stopped his ranting for a moment and held up his hand with the pirate ring on it. ‘This hand….perhaps?’ he said menacingly. ‘Or
this
hand?’ His evil eyes swept the room as he triumphantly brought his other arm from behind his back. Ever the showman, he had chosen his moment to reveal a large scaly talon, yellow in colour with sharp inwardly curving black claws.

‘Hmm,’ he said, calming down a little. ‘I quite like this. In fact I like this a lot, even better than my hook.’ He strode up to the pirates, brandishing the sea eagle’s talon in their faces. ‘I can seize and grasp and pierce and rip you apart with this.’ He demonstrated the action and the pirates whimpered in terror. ‘This brings me back to my question.’ He pointed to the skirt and bloomers he was wearing. ‘What boot lickin’ bilge rat is responsible for this?’

Professor Dante was not surprised at the sight of the claw and whispered to Wendy, ‘I knew there might be some contamination with the DNA I found under the ring, but this is worse than I thought.’

Despite the seriousness of their predicament, Wendy couldn’t help smiling at the ridiculous figure in front of her. ‘What is that bump at the back?’ she whispered.

‘It’s called a bustle and was very popular years ago, but it’s what’s underneath that I’m concerned about,’ replied her father.

Skylights mustered up all his courage and stepped forward. ‘Calm down, Captain Hook. As I told you, your crew has left no stone unturned in their quest to bring you back. Unfortunately there has been a bit of a mix up with your outfit, but that will be remedied straight away. If you let the lads go, they will be sure to bring the right clothes this time. No need for a panic, Captain, we are so glad to have you here.’

Hook peered at Skylights but showed no signs of recognition. ‘Well, no harm done, I suppose, whatever your name is. Just make sure you get it right this time.’ He was confident none of them would laugh at him for fear of the consequences. ‘All right, lads, off you go, and bring me a proper outfit. One befitting a pirate captain who’s the terror of the seven seas!’

‘Aye, aye, sir!’ MacStarkey hurried out the door with O’Mullins close behind.

‘Stop! Wait a minute,’ shouted Skylights. ‘On second thoughts, Fitzsmee and I will go with MacStarkey. O’Mullins, you stay here where you can’t get anything wrong. Scurvy dog that ye are! Come and lock the door behind us, and keep an eye on the professor.’ He shot a scathing glance at O’Mullins as he passed over the keys and headed out of the door with the other pirates. O’Mullins locked up and went to sit quietly near Hook who, not fully recovered from the tranquiliser, had fallen asleep on the trolley. Hook’s rhythmic snoring had a hypnotic effect on O’Mullins and within a short time his eyes drooped and he nodded off too.