Guided by the expertise of Blackbeard’s able
pirates, the combined forces of they and the For
Sale and the children built fifty rafts. Over a mere
couple of days, the rafts were assembled by the
shore of the dismal lake, in full view of the great
and awful sorceress ship. But at the appointed
hour, the ominous silhouette of Pewtrewsha’s and
Morlox’s floating slave factory was barely
perceptible through the clinging morning fog. And
the time for the final assault was indeed at hand.
“We must free all of the children by dusk,”
Hazel reminded her companions.
“Aye! That is why each commando team must
have at least one little mate who knows the layout
of the sorceress’ ship,” said Blackbeard.
“But their memories of the ship are so
sketchy,” said Brownbeard. “Even Felix, who has
been away from the mind numbing effects of the
gruel the longest, even he still has little
recollection of the inside.”
“But Captain, from the combined memories of
the children we’ve managed to build up a pretty
good map of what the slave ship’s insides look
like,” said Wilbert.
“Yes, I must admit the troll and his sock
wearing side kick have done a good job compiling
the many different maps into one most likely
layout,” said Kumquat.
“Oh, kitty! You do flatter me. What do you
want?” said Wilbert.
Schmoor just gave a thumbs up and a broad
smile.
“Yea! Quite right! Good job,” agreed Izzy.
“All right! Enough of the congratulations. We
be havin’ an awards ceremony after the children
be freed,” said Blackbeard gruffly.
“So? Are we ready?” asked Hazel.
“Patrol leaders!” shouted Brownbeard to the
troops. “Count your men and report!”
The nearly two hundred troops had been
divided into twenty assault teams of roughly equal
number. Once inside the slave ship, they would
spread out through the vessel to find and free their
comrades. In quick order, the patrol leaders
reported that all were present and ready to go. The
troops embarked upon the light but steady rafts,
and the armada launched into the fog.
A mild, intermittent wind blew back to the
shore. Thus, the armada was forced to weave left,
then right towards the goal as the pirates expertly
managed the small sails. This, combined with
steady rowing supplied by tired but determined
arms, propelled the fleet onward. Because of the
breeze, it was decided no matter the risk of
waking the weremonsters, to not row was out of
the question.
The pirates, armed with pistols and swords,
kept a sharp lookout for Grobrom and
Vulderburp. The nerves of the liberators were on
edge. The rumor one of the two serpents had
previously been sighted in broad daylight had
spread like wildfire through the ranks. As for
dealing with the soldiers once on board, well,
swords and pistols—pistols and swords—though
crudely effective weapons in ample supply,
everyone knew that the main weapon in their
possession was Hazel’s peanut butter and
chocolate chip cookies.
“Gad! I think the wind is picking up,”
complained Wilbert.
“Just row!” yelled Brownbeard, who was
exhausted as well.
“It doesn’t look like we’ve made it any closer
to that monstrosity,” observed Wilbert. “I don’t
think my arms can take it anymore.”
“Don’t tell me what you can’t do! Tell me what
you can do!” cried Brownbeard.
“I can put my oar down and go to sleep,” said
Wilbert.
“Fine. Take a break while Schmoor paddles.
Then you relieve him after your break,” suggested
Brownbeard.
“Ahhhhh,” said Wilbert.
“A troll that’s both dumb and a complainer.
How did we manage to find such a treasure?”
asked Kumquat.
Wilbert snatched the oar from Brownbeard’s
hands and shoved it into Kumquat’s paws.
“Row kitty! Row!”
For nearly two hours the armada struggled
against winds and choppy water. As the strongest
arms drew the lead rafts up to the prison ship, they
found the hole in its side that the skeletons had cut
just a few nights before.
“Blackbeard! Look!” shouted a pirate. “The
door ain’t sealed as we’d supposed.”
“Excellent! Then maybe the sorceress be
wantin’ us to come and visit!” answered
Blackbeard. “Let’s get ready to a-rumble!”
Brownbeard rolled his eyes. Something high
above, beneath the slave ship’s lowest deck,
caught his eye.
“Look Hazel! Look everyone! The ship has a
name. Kind of hard to read from this angle. How’d
we not notice it before?” asked Brownbeard.
“What’s the ship’s name Felix?” asked
Kumquat.
Felix looked at the faded paint far above.
“Um, I’m not really sure,” he said. “I can’t
make out the letters. I don’t remember. I don’t
think I even knew the ship had a name.”
“C’mon now!” said Blackbeard. “We ain’t be
havin’ time for this lollygagin’. Let’s get the
troops inside the ship and assembled.”
After some time, the last of the rafts came up to
the side of Pewtrewsha and Morlox’s floating
fortress. Children and pirates climbed through the
hole, while those already on board helped the
others up and in, or found places to tie down the
rafts. Thus, the side of the slave ship began to
look a bit like a marina. Pickles and Pedro drew
up on their rafts. Rather than getting onboard as
Blackbeard wanted, they joined the group trying to
determine the ship’s name.
“I didn’t know the ship had a name,” said
Pickles.
“No, I don’t remember it having a name either,”
agreed Pedro.
Brownbeard and the others squinted and
strained their necks to make out the letters.
“Amnesty?” guessed Brownbeard.
“No, that’s not it,” said Hazel.
“America?” guessed Izzy.
“No, that’s not it,” said Hazel.
“Rumplestiltskin?” suggested Wilbert.
“No, that’s not it,” said Hazel.
“Amnesia!” yelled Blackbeard. “Can’t ya read
ye blind bats! Now let’s move it!”
“No, wait! Yes! Yes! Blackbeard got it! This is
the ship Amnesia!” said Hazel. “Good work,
Blackbeard!”
“And for me reward,” Blackbeard said through
clenched teeth, “ye all will git yer fannies on this
here Amnesia before I forget we be on the same
team and throttle the lot of ye!”
There was not a single person entering the dark,
cavernous room into which the hole in the
Amnesia’s side led who did not shudder.
Memories of loneliness and hunger and fear
flooded the minds of Felix, Pedro, Pickles, and the
rest of the children.
“Gosh, what a creepy place,” whispered
Kumquat.
“Yeah, it gives me the heebie-jeebies,” agreed
Izzy.
“All right! Time be a-wastin’!” shouted
Blackbeard in a whisper—or whispered
Blackbeard in a shout. “It took longer to row here
then we’d been expectin’. Now we don’t be havin’
the sunlight we had planned on. So, maybe the
sorceress awakes before our work be done.”
“But that’s what you want, right?” asked
Wilbert. “Don’t you want to fight?”
“Truth be told mate,” said the pirate, “I’d just
as soon get out of this place. I’m finding it a wee
bit discomfortin’.”
“Here! Here!” cried the troops, echoing
Blackbeard’s sentiment.
“Remember,” said Felix, “that not only will
Pewtrewsha, Morlox, Grobrom and Vulderburp
rise once the sun sets, but other platoons like
Pedro and Pickle’s may be coming or going at
anytime. That we haven’t met any yet is just luck.”
“Okay, let’s break into our patrols,” said
Brownbeard. This task was done quickly. “Now,”
continued Brownbeard, “each patrol consists
roughly of equal numbers of pirates and children.
The children are to be the guides for their patrol,
leading it to its assigned area of the ship. The
pirates in the patrol are to be, well, you know—
pirates—breaking things, smashing things,
intimidating and liberating.”
“Aaaaarrrrrrrrr!” roared the pirates as they high-
fived one another.
“After a patrol finds and frees a group of
children, lead them back to command central, right
here, where we’ll start ferrying them back to
shore. Upon successful return, a patrol will then
be assigned another sector of the ship. We keep
going until all the children are free,” said
Brownbeard.
“Um, excuse me Captain Brownbeard,” said
Pedro.
“Yes,” said Brownbeard.
“Well, I feel much better than I did days ago.
But my mind has been starting to get a bit,
mmmm, cloudy. Ever since getting into this
blasted ship my thoughts feel muddled and weird.”
“It is past lunch time,” said Hazel.
Brownbeard felt a tug upon his breeches. He
looked down into Pickles’ puppy dog eyes.
“I agree with Pedro,” said Pickles. “I don’t
know if I could find my way through this place. I’
m afraid I’ll get lost. And dogs don’t get easily
lost!”
“Captain Brownbeard,” said Felix. “I know time
is precious. But I agree. My head is feeling funny,
too. Like it used to when I was a slave. This map
of the ship here made sense this morning, but now
it’s starting to look strange.”
Brownbeard looked at Hazel with worry. “Do
we have enough?” he asked.
Hazel smiled and said, “My witchy powers may
be on the wane, but I know how to prepare for
battle!”
With that, Hazel snapped her fingers and
Kumquat, Wilbert, and Schmoor produced several
large sacks filled with peanut butter and chocolate
chip cookies baked just the previous night.
“Ah, Miss Hazel? Me head is feeling a bit
fuzzy, too,” said Izzy.
“Yeah, mine too,” said another pirate.
“Yah, me too,” said another.
“Okay, but just one per customer,” said Hazel.
“Pewtrewsha, eat your heart out!” she whispered
to herself.
“One per customer!” shouted Kumquat as she
held open a sack.
“Just one! Hey! Just one!” reminded Wilbert as
children and pirates lined up for their cookies.
Schmoor held up his finger, wagging it at the
people as they reached in for a cookie.
“Crimeny!” swore Blackbeard. “Are we here to
extricate, or masticate?”
The large, increasingly impatient pirate was
growing more peeved with each pulse of passing
time.
“Cookie?” asked Hazel as she passed a
plateful under his nose.
Blackbeard raised an eyebrow questioningly.
Slowly, he lifted a hand and took one. He chewed.
“Mmmmm-mmmmm!” said Blackbeard. “Now
that’s a good cookie! I feel better already and I
didn’t feel bad to begin with. Men! Make sure to
eat one cookie and no more!”
“Okay!” cried Brownbeard. “Divide up the
cookies equally among the patrols and let’s go!”
With a cookie in the tummy, all were ready to
go. Gathering about Brownbeard and Blackbeard
were all the patrols that would penetrate into the
deep, dark recesses of Amnesia, all those who
would run command central, and all those who
would ferry the rescued to the lake shore. The
cousins looked at one another. Apparently,
everyone was expecting some sort of speech.
Blackbeard and Brownbeard knew time was
rushing through their fingers like—like—dry,
powdery dirt rushing through a really large hole.
“Good luck to all of us!” said Blackbeard.
“Remember, we be here to free all of the children,
not to fight if we can avoid it. Be brave. Be
cautious. And call for help should you be in need.”
“Excuse me,” said Kumquat.
“Aye?” said Blackbeard.
“How does one be both brave and cautious?”
asked the cat.
A groan emerged from the troops. Blackbeard’s
men rolled their eyes and sighed.
“Good question kitty!” said Blackbeard. “Ye
have asked a question that has perplexed pirates
and warriors alike throughout the ages. How does
one reconcile the two apparently contradictory
commands of courage and caution? Surely it can’t
be done! But answer me this, kitty—do not other
universal opposites conjoin in—”
“Blackbeard!” yelled Izzy. “The time!”
“Ah-hem,” coughed Blackbeard. “Aye! Quite
right. Well kitty, in short, the two can both be
done. That much I be sure of. But how to do both
successfully—ah, in truth, I’ve not a clue.”
Kumquat nodded, not so concerned anymore
about the dilemma, but relieved that her
counterpart Izzy had saved them all from a long
soliloquy.
“Good question kitty!” whispered Wilbert
sarcastically.
“Shut it!” hissed Kumquat.
“Well, Captain Brownbeard,” said Hazel rather
threateningly. “I’m sure you don’t have any pearls
of wisdom to drop before us as we ready to go,
so—”
Brownbeard, looking straight at Hazel, said,
“Why thank-you for reminding me, my dear lady.
In fact, I do have a few rough gems to present.”
Then, Brownbeard smiled at the love of his life
as she continued to glare at him, and spoke the
following words as he prowled back and forth,
gesturing dramatically before the troops:
The question of courage or care,
Do you defend? Or rather dare!
You’re asked for help to lend,
The fight is on! Break or bend?
Some say the dilemma can reconcile,
A balance struck by error and trial,
That opposites merge after awhile,
But can the good lay with the vile?
We can argue and debate,
But friends! The hour grows so late!
Now’s not the time for philosophy,
What is, it is! So let it be.
To some into quicksand they wade,
See good in the evil, of good they’re afraid,
But I’ll call a spade a spade,
Pewtrewsha is bad—so on with the raid!
This question of courage or care!
Be smart as you can! Weather foul or fair!
Now’s not the time to lose direction,
After the fight there’ll be time for reflection.
But when children are taken from homes,
And after they’re done all that’s left are
their bones,
I say the Evil’s no Good!
Fight for the right is what we should!
This question of courage or care!
It’s like chewing gum stuck in my hair!
And whether we break or we bend,
Wise warriors! Let us seek slavery’s end!
With that, Brownbeard stomped his foot down
and held up both arms. In his left hand he held his
unsheathed sword. In his right hand he held one of
Hazel’s delicious peanut butter and chocolate chip
cookies. The troops looked at him in stunned
silence. Then, all broke into cheers.
Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!
Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!
Brownbeard looked at Hazel. Hazel just shook
her head, unable to contain a smile.
“All right, cuz,” said Blackbeard. “I think that’s
what I meant to say. Now let’s go!”
pirates, the combined forces of they and the For
Sale and the children built fifty rafts. Over a mere
couple of days, the rafts were assembled by the
shore of the dismal lake, in full view of the great
and awful sorceress ship. But at the appointed
hour, the ominous silhouette of Pewtrewsha’s and
Morlox’s floating slave factory was barely
perceptible through the clinging morning fog. And
the time for the final assault was indeed at hand.
“We must free all of the children by dusk,”
Hazel reminded her companions.
“Aye! That is why each commando team must
have at least one little mate who knows the layout
of the sorceress’ ship,” said Blackbeard.
“But their memories of the ship are so
sketchy,” said Brownbeard. “Even Felix, who has
been away from the mind numbing effects of the
gruel the longest, even he still has little
recollection of the inside.”
“But Captain, from the combined memories of
the children we’ve managed to build up a pretty
good map of what the slave ship’s insides look
like,” said Wilbert.
“Yes, I must admit the troll and his sock
wearing side kick have done a good job compiling
the many different maps into one most likely
layout,” said Kumquat.
“Oh, kitty! You do flatter me. What do you
want?” said Wilbert.
Schmoor just gave a thumbs up and a broad
smile.
“Yea! Quite right! Good job,” agreed Izzy.
“All right! Enough of the congratulations. We
be havin’ an awards ceremony after the children
be freed,” said Blackbeard gruffly.
“So? Are we ready?” asked Hazel.
“Patrol leaders!” shouted Brownbeard to the
troops. “Count your men and report!”
The nearly two hundred troops had been
divided into twenty assault teams of roughly equal
number. Once inside the slave ship, they would
spread out through the vessel to find and free their
comrades. In quick order, the patrol leaders
reported that all were present and ready to go. The
troops embarked upon the light but steady rafts,
and the armada launched into the fog.
A mild, intermittent wind blew back to the
shore. Thus, the armada was forced to weave left,
then right towards the goal as the pirates expertly
managed the small sails. This, combined with
steady rowing supplied by tired but determined
arms, propelled the fleet onward. Because of the
breeze, it was decided no matter the risk of
waking the weremonsters, to not row was out of
the question.
The pirates, armed with pistols and swords,
kept a sharp lookout for Grobrom and
Vulderburp. The nerves of the liberators were on
edge. The rumor one of the two serpents had
previously been sighted in broad daylight had
spread like wildfire through the ranks. As for
dealing with the soldiers once on board, well,
swords and pistols—pistols and swords—though
crudely effective weapons in ample supply,
everyone knew that the main weapon in their
possession was Hazel’s peanut butter and
chocolate chip cookies.
“Gad! I think the wind is picking up,”
complained Wilbert.
“Just row!” yelled Brownbeard, who was
exhausted as well.
“It doesn’t look like we’ve made it any closer
to that monstrosity,” observed Wilbert. “I don’t
think my arms can take it anymore.”
“Don’t tell me what you can’t do! Tell me what
you can do!” cried Brownbeard.
“I can put my oar down and go to sleep,” said
Wilbert.
“Fine. Take a break while Schmoor paddles.
Then you relieve him after your break,” suggested
Brownbeard.
“Ahhhhh,” said Wilbert.
“A troll that’s both dumb and a complainer.
How did we manage to find such a treasure?”
asked Kumquat.
Wilbert snatched the oar from Brownbeard’s
hands and shoved it into Kumquat’s paws.
“Row kitty! Row!”
For nearly two hours the armada struggled
against winds and choppy water. As the strongest
arms drew the lead rafts up to the prison ship, they
found the hole in its side that the skeletons had cut
just a few nights before.
“Blackbeard! Look!” shouted a pirate. “The
door ain’t sealed as we’d supposed.”
“Excellent! Then maybe the sorceress be
wantin’ us to come and visit!” answered
Blackbeard. “Let’s get ready to a-rumble!”
Brownbeard rolled his eyes. Something high
above, beneath the slave ship’s lowest deck,
caught his eye.
“Look Hazel! Look everyone! The ship has a
name. Kind of hard to read from this angle. How’d
we not notice it before?” asked Brownbeard.
“What’s the ship’s name Felix?” asked
Kumquat.
Felix looked at the faded paint far above.
“Um, I’m not really sure,” he said. “I can’t
make out the letters. I don’t remember. I don’t
think I even knew the ship had a name.”
“C’mon now!” said Blackbeard. “We ain’t be
havin’ time for this lollygagin’. Let’s get the
troops inside the ship and assembled.”
After some time, the last of the rafts came up to
the side of Pewtrewsha and Morlox’s floating
fortress. Children and pirates climbed through the
hole, while those already on board helped the
others up and in, or found places to tie down the
rafts. Thus, the side of the slave ship began to
look a bit like a marina. Pickles and Pedro drew
up on their rafts. Rather than getting onboard as
Blackbeard wanted, they joined the group trying to
determine the ship’s name.
“I didn’t know the ship had a name,” said
Pickles.
“No, I don’t remember it having a name either,”
agreed Pedro.
Brownbeard and the others squinted and
strained their necks to make out the letters.
“Amnesty?” guessed Brownbeard.
“No, that’s not it,” said Hazel.
“America?” guessed Izzy.
“No, that’s not it,” said Hazel.
“Rumplestiltskin?” suggested Wilbert.
“No, that’s not it,” said Hazel.
“Amnesia!” yelled Blackbeard. “Can’t ya read
ye blind bats! Now let’s move it!”
“No, wait! Yes! Yes! Blackbeard got it! This is
the ship Amnesia!” said Hazel. “Good work,
Blackbeard!”
“And for me reward,” Blackbeard said through
clenched teeth, “ye all will git yer fannies on this
here Amnesia before I forget we be on the same
team and throttle the lot of ye!”
There was not a single person entering the dark,
cavernous room into which the hole in the
Amnesia’s side led who did not shudder.
Memories of loneliness and hunger and fear
flooded the minds of Felix, Pedro, Pickles, and the
rest of the children.
“Gosh, what a creepy place,” whispered
Kumquat.
“Yeah, it gives me the heebie-jeebies,” agreed
Izzy.
“All right! Time be a-wastin’!” shouted
Blackbeard in a whisper—or whispered
Blackbeard in a shout. “It took longer to row here
then we’d been expectin’. Now we don’t be havin’
the sunlight we had planned on. So, maybe the
sorceress awakes before our work be done.”
“But that’s what you want, right?” asked
Wilbert. “Don’t you want to fight?”
“Truth be told mate,” said the pirate, “I’d just
as soon get out of this place. I’m finding it a wee
bit discomfortin’.”
“Here! Here!” cried the troops, echoing
Blackbeard’s sentiment.
“Remember,” said Felix, “that not only will
Pewtrewsha, Morlox, Grobrom and Vulderburp
rise once the sun sets, but other platoons like
Pedro and Pickle’s may be coming or going at
anytime. That we haven’t met any yet is just luck.”
“Okay, let’s break into our patrols,” said
Brownbeard. This task was done quickly. “Now,”
continued Brownbeard, “each patrol consists
roughly of equal numbers of pirates and children.
The children are to be the guides for their patrol,
leading it to its assigned area of the ship. The
pirates in the patrol are to be, well, you know—
pirates—breaking things, smashing things,
intimidating and liberating.”
“Aaaaarrrrrrrrr!” roared the pirates as they high-
fived one another.
“After a patrol finds and frees a group of
children, lead them back to command central, right
here, where we’ll start ferrying them back to
shore. Upon successful return, a patrol will then
be assigned another sector of the ship. We keep
going until all the children are free,” said
Brownbeard.
“Um, excuse me Captain Brownbeard,” said
Pedro.
“Yes,” said Brownbeard.
“Well, I feel much better than I did days ago.
But my mind has been starting to get a bit,
mmmm, cloudy. Ever since getting into this
blasted ship my thoughts feel muddled and weird.”
“It is past lunch time,” said Hazel.
Brownbeard felt a tug upon his breeches. He
looked down into Pickles’ puppy dog eyes.
“I agree with Pedro,” said Pickles. “I don’t
know if I could find my way through this place. I’
m afraid I’ll get lost. And dogs don’t get easily
lost!”
“Captain Brownbeard,” said Felix. “I know time
is precious. But I agree. My head is feeling funny,
too. Like it used to when I was a slave. This map
of the ship here made sense this morning, but now
it’s starting to look strange.”
Brownbeard looked at Hazel with worry. “Do
we have enough?” he asked.
Hazel smiled and said, “My witchy powers may
be on the wane, but I know how to prepare for
battle!”
With that, Hazel snapped her fingers and
Kumquat, Wilbert, and Schmoor produced several
large sacks filled with peanut butter and chocolate
chip cookies baked just the previous night.
“Ah, Miss Hazel? Me head is feeling a bit
fuzzy, too,” said Izzy.
“Yeah, mine too,” said another pirate.
“Yah, me too,” said another.
“Okay, but just one per customer,” said Hazel.
“Pewtrewsha, eat your heart out!” she whispered
to herself.
“One per customer!” shouted Kumquat as she
held open a sack.
“Just one! Hey! Just one!” reminded Wilbert as
children and pirates lined up for their cookies.
Schmoor held up his finger, wagging it at the
people as they reached in for a cookie.
“Crimeny!” swore Blackbeard. “Are we here to
extricate, or masticate?”
The large, increasingly impatient pirate was
growing more peeved with each pulse of passing
time.
“Cookie?” asked Hazel as she passed a
plateful under his nose.
Blackbeard raised an eyebrow questioningly.
Slowly, he lifted a hand and took one. He chewed.
“Mmmmm-mmmmm!” said Blackbeard. “Now
that’s a good cookie! I feel better already and I
didn’t feel bad to begin with. Men! Make sure to
eat one cookie and no more!”
“Okay!” cried Brownbeard. “Divide up the
cookies equally among the patrols and let’s go!”
With a cookie in the tummy, all were ready to
go. Gathering about Brownbeard and Blackbeard
were all the patrols that would penetrate into the
deep, dark recesses of Amnesia, all those who
would run command central, and all those who
would ferry the rescued to the lake shore. The
cousins looked at one another. Apparently,
everyone was expecting some sort of speech.
Blackbeard and Brownbeard knew time was
rushing through their fingers like—like—dry,
powdery dirt rushing through a really large hole.
“Good luck to all of us!” said Blackbeard.
“Remember, we be here to free all of the children,
not to fight if we can avoid it. Be brave. Be
cautious. And call for help should you be in need.”
“Excuse me,” said Kumquat.
“Aye?” said Blackbeard.
“How does one be both brave and cautious?”
asked the cat.
A groan emerged from the troops. Blackbeard’s
men rolled their eyes and sighed.
“Good question kitty!” said Blackbeard. “Ye
have asked a question that has perplexed pirates
and warriors alike throughout the ages. How does
one reconcile the two apparently contradictory
commands of courage and caution? Surely it can’t
be done! But answer me this, kitty—do not other
universal opposites conjoin in—”
“Blackbeard!” yelled Izzy. “The time!”
“Ah-hem,” coughed Blackbeard. “Aye! Quite
right. Well kitty, in short, the two can both be
done. That much I be sure of. But how to do both
successfully—ah, in truth, I’ve not a clue.”
Kumquat nodded, not so concerned anymore
about the dilemma, but relieved that her
counterpart Izzy had saved them all from a long
soliloquy.
“Good question kitty!” whispered Wilbert
sarcastically.
“Shut it!” hissed Kumquat.
“Well, Captain Brownbeard,” said Hazel rather
threateningly. “I’m sure you don’t have any pearls
of wisdom to drop before us as we ready to go,
so—”
Brownbeard, looking straight at Hazel, said,
“Why thank-you for reminding me, my dear lady.
In fact, I do have a few rough gems to present.”
Then, Brownbeard smiled at the love of his life
as she continued to glare at him, and spoke the
following words as he prowled back and forth,
gesturing dramatically before the troops:
The question of courage or care,
Do you defend? Or rather dare!
You’re asked for help to lend,
The fight is on! Break or bend?
Some say the dilemma can reconcile,
A balance struck by error and trial,
That opposites merge after awhile,
But can the good lay with the vile?
We can argue and debate,
But friends! The hour grows so late!
Now’s not the time for philosophy,
What is, it is! So let it be.
To some into quicksand they wade,
See good in the evil, of good they’re afraid,
But I’ll call a spade a spade,
Pewtrewsha is bad—so on with the raid!
This question of courage or care!
Be smart as you can! Weather foul or fair!
Now’s not the time to lose direction,
After the fight there’ll be time for reflection.
But when children are taken from homes,
And after they’re done all that’s left are
their bones,
I say the Evil’s no Good!
Fight for the right is what we should!
This question of courage or care!
It’s like chewing gum stuck in my hair!
And whether we break or we bend,
Wise warriors! Let us seek slavery’s end!
With that, Brownbeard stomped his foot down
and held up both arms. In his left hand he held his
unsheathed sword. In his right hand he held one of
Hazel’s delicious peanut butter and chocolate chip
cookies. The troops looked at him in stunned
silence. Then, all broke into cheers.
Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!
Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!
Brownbeard looked at Hazel. Hazel just shook
her head, unable to contain a smile.
“All right, cuz,” said Blackbeard. “I think that’s
what I meant to say. Now let’s go!”
The Adventures of Short Stubbly Brownbeard
Alan J. Levine
* * *
Chapter Forty-Three
Buy yer hard copy
at . . .
at . . .
Want to support
children's literature?
That's great! But
instead, why don't you
go to the followin'
links to buy yer own
miserable copy of
Brownbeard and
support Pirates
Anonymous? We've
been assisting pirates
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hygiene issues since
1633. Brownbeard is
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children's literature?
That's great! But
instead, why don't you
go to the followin'
links to buy yer own
miserable copy of
Brownbeard and
support Pirates
Anonymous? We've
been assisting pirates
with mental health and
hygiene issues since
1633. Brownbeard is
also available to
schools and libraries
through wholesalers
like Follett, Ingram,
and Baker & Taylor.
