Captain Nigel

My youngest brother challenged me to make a story out of his description: "The story is that... Yeah and then they got bombed and um, the cook, the side man cook *giggles* cooks some chips and they explode and everyone dies. The end." He's eleven.

They weren't going to make it out of this alive. It was in the brutality etched at the back of Captain Nigel's voice as he barked at his crew of thieves. It was in the way said crew of thieves rushed around the deck, offloading unnecessary weight in an attempt to lighten the ship and tripping over each other in the process. It was in the way Duck Luda clung on to the mast and drank his bottle of rum, tears streaming down his hairy face.

It was in the way the rival ship bombarded the Lazy Monkey with booming shots from their canons without giving them a fair chance to get away. The big meanies.

The crew of the Lazy Monkey were shoved on to the deck, skin scraping against wood, nails ripping off as they clung to their home for the past eleven years. Captain Nigel was tossed from the helm nearly all the way to the forecastle deck, cracking his head against something hard.


When he came to he was spluttering water and couldn't feel his legs. Two sturdy arms heaved him into a sitting position; the water now came up to his waist. Duck Luda offered Captain Nigel the last of the rum without a word. The Captain declined.

"We're gonna die," Duck Luda said, gulping down what was left of the powerful liquid.

"You don't know that." Captain Nigel winced: talking aggravated the pain in his head. Something red obscured his vision; he touched his eye and his fingers came away sticky with blood. He noticed Duck Luda's forehead was also oozing the essential juice.

"Most of us are dead already. Li-Roy, Peg, Arold, Stitch - all gone. Dunno about the others but I saw them lot get flung off the side. We'll drown with them," said Duck Luda. His voice was soft, calm. He had had time to consider the eternal oblivion of death and make peace with it. The rum helped.

The two men were silent for a moment, listening to the groans of the Lazy Monkey as it buckled under the sporadic attack of enemy canons. The ship - their home - collapsed in increments, the wood splintering into the sea to join the rest of the crew. The mast above Captain Nigel and Duck Luda whined as it weakened.

"Chip?"

The confusion Duck Luda caused in the Captain was cleared when he saw the cook fish a handful of the sliced potatoes from his pocket. Captain Nigel chuckled once - any more and his head would have split in two. Same old Duck.

The chips were soggy, cold and covered in fluff but they ate them anyway, knowing it would be their last meal. Captain Nigel's tongue felt abused when they were done and he vowed never again to-

Oh. That was right. He would never do anything, ever again.

"Why did you have chips in your pocket?" he asked, not looking at Duck Luda. The water was up to his chest and they were sliding to the port side as the ship tipped into the sea under the pressure of its demise. Captain Nigel tried not to think about what was coming for him, his heart thudding rapidly against his chest with the panic.

The mast wobbled for the last time. With an almighty creak and crack, it split away from the rest of the ship and swooped down to greet the deck. The yardarm spun around and collided with an obstacle, crushing it in a mess of shattered timber and limbs.

Duck Luda's face didn't change but his voice hitched as he said, "I was making them when we first got hit." He chanced a look at the Captain and wished he hadn't been so brave. His body was broken, mangled by the ship he once called his best friend. Now he was unable to fall into the water with the rest of his crew until the Lazy Monkey sunk further beneath the heaviness of its injuries.

With a deep heave of air, Duck Luda reached for the bottle of rum before remembering it was empty. He sighed again and threw the bottle over the edge. Nothing left to do but wait to be consumed.

"See you soon, brother," he murmured to the body of Captain Nigel.

The rival ship had one last attack to throw: a bomb. It whistled briefly through the air before making explosive impact on the Lazy Monkey. The shock waves rippled for nautical miles.