Chapter 29
Scrawled in Chalky Coal
Chance of Mutiny: 0%
57 levels until ketch evolution.
We moored at the Lavenfauvish pier with the stern of the recovered sloop still tethered to the side of the ketch. My snots spilled down the gangway and rushed through a throng of humans toward Green-fin. Remember-not stood by.
“Any sign of Boggo?” I said.
“No Boggo!”
Remember-not, cleared of duty, skipped down the gangway and after our crew. I descended to my forecastle and poured a libation of Thrush’s dreambon ale. I crouched to closely watch the spilled beer. An excited tension emitted from my throat, like I was bracing for a jump scare. Time passed. I stood and let out a sigh.
And after complaining out loud for some time, I fetched a bottle of Hawkin’s Home Camp ethereal beer. I took a sip, I blinked, and I found myself on an almost empty ethereal plane.
Hawkin called it iridescent. Whatever iridescent was, he was right. There were only a few things that weren’t iridescent: a firepit, a stump, a journal on the stump, and a thick coal utensil. I swam-flew over to discover no fire in the firepit.
“Hawkin?”
He wasn’t around. I lingered for a moment and flapped my arms. After some time, Hawkin still didn’t show up. I flew over to the stump and opened the journal. In shaky thin letters was a note for me.
Barnacle-eyes,
We miss you around here. I’ve hung the mash paddle above the brewery doors to remember you by. The one you chewed. It’s nice to look at it because it reminds me of you. I hope you’re not getting yourself into trouble. I wonder about you. I wouldn’t be surprised by now if you’ve gotten another crew member. Can’t wait to hear from you. If I don’t see anything in the journal, I’ll ask Thrush about you.
-Hawkin
I took the coal utensil in a fist and turned the page.
Hawkin,
Hello. Eye have a bigg crew of over Thirty GOBLINS. They call me Admiral.
-Wow cant wait!
A letter to Hawkin! That was another thing to add to my list of writing skills, list-making and letter-writing. And Hawkin was my first Dear! I could dear anyone! Abigail. I could Dear Thrush. I could dear Peg-tooth. That was probably a good idea. Oh!—Slime-tooth! I could Dear him. I flipped to the next page.
Dear, Dear Slime-tooth,
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Eye miss you. Eye dont know what to say. Eye have feelings but I cant write them down. Eye dont no what they are. Eye just miss you. Eye am on my way to be the best goblin ever was. My heart it feels like hole without you. Eye wish you were hear.
Wet drops appeared on the page. I sniffled and blinked away the blur in my eyes.
Eye regret not taking you with me when Eye left Gloom-glower. My new family of goblins is different now that there goblins. Humans was even more different not same as goblins. Goblins are my new family now but they cant replace the family that you were. Eye didnt no how family you and me were. How come goblins live a life of bailing and bailing and dont get chance to no there family? Do you think thats why Meat-fist was mean? He was had no family? Thank you for telling me to speak. Eye speak a lot now. Eye speak to my crew and they say Aye Aye Admiral. Guess what. We used 2 of your rules. The 2 that say keep add things and build fast. It worked. Now every1 nos the Slime-tooth rules! Can Eye add some rules 2? Eyem going to add rules.
My lip quivered. I massaged my straining forearm, and then returned to smashing the utensil tip onto the page.
Please dont forget about me.
-Your like-a-daughter Barnacle-eyes.
I returned to my forecastle and let my lip quiver for a while. Several long sighs slithered out. I would trade all my hoard to have Slime-tooth aboard. I’d promote him higher than any goblin had ever been promoted before. Higher than Captain. Higher than Admiral. Higher than Peg-tooth! Why not? Who was to stop me?
But Slime-tooth was not here. He was further from me than ever before and he certainly didn’t have one of Hawkin’s Home Camp beers.
I went on deck to find that it was late afternoon, nearly twilight. My snots were on board swabbing the deck, coiling ropes, making hammered flower dresses, and coveting each other’s earned goods.
As one they greeted me.
“We need a cook!” I said.
After short deliberation, I delegated Long-toes as our cook. I rummaged among the recovered human farm tools that had previously helped to comprise the walls of the sloop. I selected the cracked and rusted blade of a hoe and rewarded Long-toes with the item for his promotion.
Long-toes hacked at an onion which was the size of one of Hawkin’s barrels. Remember-not had a few snots help him roll the onion over to the deckhouse. We gathered around as the snots peeled back the layers of the onion. They went at it with the same strength that they used to lift wet canvas from the sea. Long-toes attacked the onion with fervor. Fumes rolled up off the onion and made the air dance like a mirage.
In moments, every snot was waving off the air like flies were diving into their eyes. Long-toes chopped and hacked at the onion until it began to fall apart in pieces; big pieces the size of goblin limbs!
Onion was passed around until everyone had a piece. I took my own slice and blindly escaped the deckhouse. We sat between the rows of giant flowers and garlic and onions while we ate. The sun went down and lights came alive in the sky and in the windows of Lavenfauvish.
“Admiral,” said Happy-smile. “What are you going to do with your new hoard?”
It belonged to a Captain—had belonged. It bothered me to see those forlorn faces in Green-fin. It was Pinky-chew’s face that was stuck in my mind. Her eyes were deep with loss. They were murky like the sea and she had lost half her crew when her sloop sank. Perhaps that’s why her eyes were so murky. She was still seeing those goblins. Maybe she knew what a family was. I felt I was only just starting to understand what a family was, and I had only recently been promoted to Admiral. As Captain, maybe she went through the same thing.
“Maybe a Captain could claim it,” I said.
“All the Captains are going to claim it,” Bounce-knee said.
“If you want a Captain, one of us could be Captain,” Remember-not said.
“I have someone in mind,” I said and went into the deckhouse for seconds.
The following morning, I searched Green-fin for Pinky-chew. She was slumped in the fold of her arms at a table. No matter how hard I tried, nor how loud I spoke, she didn’t answer.
“I’ll have to do things the hard way,” I muttered.
I ran back to my ketch, grabbed the new hoard filled chest, and stowed it into my inventory. I arduously put one foot in front of the other and made my way to Green-fin. I was sweating from the weight of the hoard. It was just before noon when I pushed through the crowded shack and slammed the hoard filled chest down on Pinky-chew’s table.
She sat up. Her eyes went wide.
“That’s yours,” I said. “I did like Thrush and recovered a sunken ship and I’ve been repairing it. I want you to be its Captain. I’ll be your Admiral.”
“Mine?” she said.
“That’s your name isn’t it?”
In fresh chalky coal, the name Pinky-chew was scrawled on the lid of the chest.