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You are a deckhand on the Jolly Roger. It’s a brisk, stormy night. The waves toss the ship back and forth in a game of catch that’s been going on for days. The clouds are grey; the sky is grey. Everything is the same dull grey tone it’s been your entire life. To everyone else, the ship appears alive with starburstsTM of color. It thrums with life, but you can’t feel it. Not yet.You push the dingy mop-- probably a pathetic off-white if you could see it-- across the rich brown grains of the deck that has been described to you by your scurvy-ridden crewmates. You, on the other hand, are as healthy as can be, as you have been hoarding the fruit. You have a pile of oranges in your chamber pot. You wonder briefly why they are called oranges – are they actually orange, or is it another trick??Suddenly, the storm worsens. The rough seas become more violent, and you are grateful for your strong sea legs. Waves crash over the deck, splashing you with a cold salty spray, crusting around your mouth. You can taste it on your tongue. You are used to this by now.The ship groans in the increased pressure of the wind and water. The deck shakes like a sailor with scurvy. You tightly clutch the wooden shaft of the mop in a desperate attempt to retain your footing. Others, however, are not so lucky.From the corner of your eye, you see a large dark mass careening toward you. In an almighty crash, both of you are thrown to the deck. For a few seconds all you see is they sky above you, grey and surging, as it has been for nearly a week, then a face rises in your field of vision. It takes only a moment to notice the shocking blue of his eyes.Mr. Smee.You’ve seen him before, but you’ve never spoken. Sometimes he swabs the deck with you, mostly he follows Captain Hook around, looking dismayed and a little confused. Endearingly so. The thought crosses your mind before you can stop it. You’ve never paid much attention to Smee before, but those eyes are the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.“Sorry,” Smee bumbles, pushing himself back to his feet and holding his hand out to pull you up too. His face was crimson, like his wrinkled, striped shirt. You brush yourself off, smiling bashfully at Smee.It hits you then. The world is alive with color – rich pigments are everywhere. The grey of the sky is unchanging, but the waves are the same beautiful shade as Smee’s eyes. You’re captivated in the sapphire tones of his eyes, in the bleach white and crimson of his shirt, in the midnight of his trousers. You look to your feet – the crew was wrong; the deck is growing green with algae; the names of the colors spring to your mind as if by magic.“I’ve never seen such a beautiful color,” you say, still gazing into Smee’s eyes.“What color?” He asks. Your heart stops. He doesn’t see them. You are doomed to forever pine after someone who does not love you back.“Your eyes,” you whisper, staring down at your feet, you can’t make yourself look back up at his magnetic eyes. The mop lies beside Smee’s exposed left toe. A hole has been worn into his mustard yellow croc. The mop is as predicted. A pathetic, dull, stupid white.“I’ve never seen their color before.” He says. “But yours, they’re gorgeous.” Your eyes spring back up to his.“You do see them?” He sweeps you spontaneously off your feet and carries you bridal-style to his chamber belowdecks. You pass Richard Thundershaft, a jolly deckhand, standing beside the stairs on your way down.“Dick, look!” you say, grinning broadly from the arms of your new beau. “I finally found my soulmate!” Richard’s ever-present smile falters for a moment, but it is so brief that you think you imagine it. When you look back, he is smiling again, congratulating the two of you and bidding you a good night....TO BE CONTINUED...
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You awaken to the golden, glinting rays of the morning sun through the stained-glass windows of the first mate’s cabin, sending fractals of colored light across the bed. You hear soft snores beside you, and turn to look for their source. Smee’s sleeping face entering your field of vision triggers the memory of the events of the previous day. You blush, looking at the rumpled cotton sheets at the foot of his rough straw bed. Suddenly, he stirs beside you. You lean in to kiss him good morning.“How are you, darling?” He ponders sleepily. “I’m fine, Smee. How about you?” He smiles, brushing his fingers along your cheek, eyes squinting as he struggles to stay awake.“Go back to sleep, dear,” you say, kissing him on the forehead. He drops back to the plush mustard yellow pillows, which match perfectly with the yellow sheets, and resumes his snoring. You slide out from under the covers and dress quickly and quietly, barely finished buttoning up your plum-colored shirt by the time you are above decks. At the top of the staircase, you look around in the early-morning light and see that Richard is still standing where he had been last night. He looks worn and ragged, as if he hadn’t slept. You wonder if he’s been standing there all night, waiting for something - or perhaps someone. But in a moment, you have forgotten all about him, as the world awaiting you captures all of your attention. To one side of you is the beautiful glowing horizon, the sun a burning semicircle over the ocean. You’ve never seen a sunrise in color before, and it takes your breath away. It’s almost, but not quite, as captivating as Smee’s eyes. At the other side of you is the glistening shore. The waves, now smooth, bump gently against the pale, sparkling sand. A few meters inland, a local market is in full swing, thrumming with life and promise. People are hard at work selling their wares or strolling up the streets with glittering gold coins clinking in their pockets. It’s the perfect day for an adventure.You think back to Smee, asleep in his chambers below you, and you recall his impressive collection of mustard yellow garments. How he managed to get them all the same shade is a mystery. You consider going to the market to find him a new item, but would it arouse the suspicion of the crew?Decidedly not, as the rest of the ship is empty of crewmen. They have all left to enjoy the weather and the marketplace. You have some coin saved up for a special occasion, so you decide to join them. In the marketplace, you find a small stall at the end of the street after some searching. A whole array of brightly colors ascots hang off of a display like plump, ripe oranges on an orange tree, though these come in a variety of colors besides orange, including, thank God, mustard yellow. You harvest said mustard yellow ascot from the tree of fabric and run the smooth, silken material through your fingers. Smee will love it.You hand several gold pieces to the merchant and abscond with your purchase, beginning to amble back to the Jolly Roger. Suddenly, a scream catches your attention. It’s coming form the direction of the beloved ship that has been your home for several years now. You pick up your pace. You would recognize that scream anywhere. The Jolly Roger comes into view, as well as another ship beside it, but you don’t recognize the flag of the new ship. You scan both ships for the image you are dreading, and there, struggling against the bonds made from his own mustard yellow curtains, is Smee, eyes wild with fear. The ascot falls from your hands.“Smee!” you shout, and begin running toward him. The new gang of pirates drags Smee across a thin piece of wood, serving as a bridge, connecting the two ships, then kick it away, leaving you stranded, alone on the Jolly Roger, doomed to watch as the enemy ship pushes off from the shore, growing smaller and smaller as it fades into the sun. You fall to your knees in despair, watching the spot where Smee and the ship have long since disappeared, until the sun sets and the Jolly Roger, too, leaves the dock. The yellow ascot lies forgotten in the sand.…TO BE CONTINUED
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“Captain, please, I beg you,” you plead to Captain Hook. You have been standing in his office trying for hours to convince him to send a rescue party to go after Smee. “He is my soulmate, and he is critical to the success of this ship!” “I will not waste time and men on a lost cause!” sneered the belligerent captain, raven colored moustache twitching in anger. “He is simply not worth it.” The finality of this last statement punches you in the gut. All your attempts have gone in vain. You fall to the deck, delicious, salty tears falling unhindered down your cheeks. “Please,” you gasp, the last of your strength fading away. “Get out of my chambers immediately,” Hook growls in a dangerously low voice, flipping his delightfully hairy arm in a flamboyant gesture at the slightly ajar cabin door. You pick yourself up off the ground and drag yourself out of the room, feeling everything and nothing all at once. Once you have reached the top of the stairs, you stop to look around, hoping to catch sight of something that could help you convince Hook to rescue your beloved. The first thing that catches your eye is that Richard is still at his post from the day before, though he seems more like his cheerful self today. “What ho!” Richard shouts jovially at you. You mumble something unintelligible to him in response. “Hey, are you alright?” he asks, concern clear in his voice. “I’m fine,” you murmur sadly, staring blankly into the space where the boat holding Smee hostage disappeared hours ago.“Hey, listen, I know that Smee is gone, but chin up! He’ll turn up again, I know it!” he responds reassuringly.“I just don’t know what to do,” you tell him dejectedly. “the Captain refuses to send men to look for him, and I can’t just… wait.” Your eyes are suddenly drawn to the dingy kept at the back of the ship. You have an idea.“How would you like to go on a rescue mission?” you ask Dick hopefully.“Now, let’s not do anything rash,” he responds hastily. “Going against the Captain’s wishes may not be for the best.”You, however, are not convinced of this.“Listen, Dick, if the Captain won’t do anything, then it’s up to us to rescue Smee.”He ponders this for a moment and seems to make a decision.“Of course, as your friend, I must encourage you to follow the rules; however, if you do insist on breaking them, I cannot allow you to do so alone in good conscience.”At this, a smile breaks across your face. Filled with renewed vigor, you rush to the dingy kept next to the stairs and read the inscription on the side. The New Hope. A very fitting name for the boat that may save your beloved. You bring Richard back to your cabin to make a plan. “First,” you say, “we must pack a bag. We should bring only the essentials.” You rummage around your quarters for a short while, dredging up the rations you have hidden away in case of food shortage. You also remove your store of oranges from their hiding place in your chamber pot and place your bounty on your orange-colored sheets. “So that’s where all the fruit has gone!” Dick exclaims upon seeing your collection. “No wonder you’re the only one aboard without scurvy!” You pass him one of your beloved oranges without a word, and he immediately bites into the rind like one would a tomato. You look away, embarrassed. You also pack two pairs of pants and two shirts, each a slightly different shade of purple, unfortunately. You were not as good as Smee at matching greys, evidently. You also put your favorite pair of spiked nunchucks (which apparently are a strange shade of lime green) in case you encounter danger. Finally, you pack your good luck charm – your grandfather’s old harp, a beautiful instrument decorated with carved images of fruits. “Oh, I didn’t know you played the harp,” Richard intones in a surprised manner. “Actually, I don’t,” you respond, “but it’s my good luck charm!” For a moment, a strange look crosses Richard’s face, and he looks almost like he wants to say something. However, his expression soon passes, causing you to wonder if you simply imagined it. “Gather your items. We meet at midnight,” you project secretively. Dick Thundershaft leaves your quarters quickly, his smile is still plastered on his face like a porcelain doll. His absence allows you to turn to the large pile on your bed. You wonder how you are going to fit everything in your bag, but fit everything you must. The packing process takes several hours, but you are able to get everything into your travel bag. The harp sticks out the top a big, but there is no way you are leaving it behind. The moon has dipped well over the horizon by now, so Dick should be meeting you shortly. You will be reunited with your soulmate in a short time....TO BE CONTINUED