The gathering for breakfast was casual in the
extreme. Folks walked around in their pajamas as
they ate and socialized. The Emperor was already
on his third breakfast when Brownbeard got to the
buffet. The rest of the For Sale crew was there
already too.
“How’d you sleep Captain?” asked a jovial
Emperor.
“Okay, I guess. I’m still a bit tired,” replied
Brownbeard.
“That’s because we had a big night last night,”
said The Emperor.
“I’ll bet your right,” said Brownbeard.
“Grab yourself a plate before I eat it all up!”
said The Emperor. “I’m just getting started!”
Everyone around laughed. Brownbeard made
his way to the buffet, where the scene before him
woke him. There was a stunning amount of
delicious food on display. Brownbeard’s tummy
was ready for yummy. A chef prepared
Brownbeard a three lummox egg omelet with
toadstools, raspberries, and wheat germ.
“Would you like a little or a lot of sauce to top
your omelet?” inquired the chef.
“What are my choices?” asked Brownbeard.
“Anything you would please,” answered the
chef. “Chocolate, barbecue, black olive and
honey, balsamic vinaigrette with marshmallow
bits, grape remoulade—just tell me what you’d
like.”
“Oh, gosh. That all sounds perfect. Put all
those you named on my man!” said Brownbeard.
“Yes sir, Captain,” smiled the chef.
Brownbeard returned to sit next to The
Emperor and Hazel and the gang.
“Captain,” said The Emperor. “Let’s talk about
your future here in Sa’Laam.”
“My future in Sa’Laam?” asked Brownbeard.
“Hazel here tells me your plans are not
definite. That how long you stay in Sa’Laam has
yet to be determined,” said The Emperor.
“That’s true. We’re just passing through,” said
Brownbeard.
“And I’m glad you’re here. What I want to
know is will you consider staying?” asked The
Emperor.
“Stay? Just hitting rocks in the coliseum?”
asked Brownbeard.
“Well, no! Not just hit rocks. You’ll be
Secretary of State of The Empire of Sa’Laam!”
said The Emperor.
“Secretary of State?” asked Brownbeard.
“Sure! I think. Maybe it’s Secretary of Defense
or Treasury. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure
what your title will be. Whatever title goes to the
number two man in Sa’Laam, that’s the title you’ll
have,” beamed The Emperor.
“He’ll take Treasury,” said Wilbert. “Ouch!”
Kumquat and Schmoor both kicked Wilbert in
the shins from under the table.
“So, because I hit the ball almost but not quite
as far as you last night, I get to be the second most
powerful man in all of Sa’Laam?”
“You got it!” said The Emperor. “That’s how
things work here.”
“You mean, if I’d have won our contest last
night, I’d be The Emperor?”
The Emperor took a deep breath and said,
“Yes, you came a few feet away from rightfully
seizing the reins of power. I gotta tell you, I have
never been so scared in all my life Captain! You
really pushed me. None of those other cads on the
field ever challenged me like that.”
“Wow. I don’t know,” said Brownbeard. “I’ll
have to think about that. Before becoming The
Captain, I was an accountant. I’ve never been
involved in the running of an Empire. I doubt I’m
qualified.”
“Listen Captain,” said The Emperor leaning
close, “Most people ‘round here don’t know my
real story. I’m gonna tell you. I haven’t always
been The Emperor. Before I took up rock
smacking, my name was Irwin Fruitstein. I ran a
sandwich shop in a nearby solar system for five
years after flunking eighth grade for the third time.
I wasn’t stupid or anything. I just wasn’t a good
student.
“Unfortunately, I came from a planet that didn’
t have rock hitting teams in the schools. On my
home planet, to graduate from high school, you
would actually have to pass classes! So, I didn’t
become a rock hitter by getting a scholarship to
some fancy-schmancy university like the guys we
were playing with last night. I don’t have no high
falootin’ degree from Frokmee University or the
Plaferdoo Institute of Sis-Boom-bology. And you
know what?”
“What?” asked Brownbeard, keeping his part
of the conversation up.
“I didn’t need to!” exclaimed The Emperor. “I
learned to work hard making my sandwich shop
into a successful business. But I am blessed. I
was given a talent that no one else in the galaxy
has—except for you! I could hit a rock farther
than anyone else. I knew that if I kept practicing
every day, even for a little bit, maybe in the
morning before opening my shop, or after closing,
whatever it took—I knew that if I did that and
saved my money, I could get myself to a place
where my talent would be rewarded! Now here I
am! The most powerful, most wealthy, most great
ruler of any civilization in the Milky Way! Who
would of thunk it?”
“That’s incredible,” said Brownbeard. He was
truly impressed. Brownbeard admired hard work
and people who brought themselves up from
having very little to having a very lot.
“Yes,” agreed The Emperor. “Incredible. But
my point is this: Who’s to say if you’re qualified
to be Secretary of State? You? Me? The good
people of Sa’Laam? No! Don’t answer. There is
no answer! I’ve been The Emperor for twenty
years. So long as I can hit rocks the way I do, I
have the full support of all Sa’Laamians. And the
other positions of leadership in this Empire are
filled according to how you hit. No matter where
in the Universe you were born, how far you go in
Sa’Laam is for you to determine. Just throw that
rock and swing!”
“That’s fantastic! What do you think of that
Hazel? A society based on the ability to hit rocks
very far. That is truly exquisite.”
“I told you,” said Hazel, “Sa’Laam is the
standard by which all civilizations past, present
and future shall be judged. Now you know.”
“Hazel’s a smart lady,” said The Emperor.
“And beautiful as well.”
Hazel blushed.
“Oh, Emperor,” she said, “You’re a flatterer.”
The Emperor smiled and said, “You’re a lucky
man Captain. If Hazel was not yours, I’d make her
Empress of Sa’Laam. She is with you? Isn’t she? I
mean, you two are an item, aren’t you?”
“Ahhh—well—it’s aaah,” Brownbeard
stammered. He was not sure what to say. Hazel
was in no way his lady, but he had been in love
with her since first laying eyes upon her. He
thought she liked him, but he was not sure. And he
thought they had made up after their fight. But he
was not totally sure about that either.
“Yes,” said Hazel. “The Captain and I are
happily married. You’ve met our children
already.”
Hazel motioned towards Kumquat, Wilbert and
Schmoor who were all busy stuffing their faces.
But not so busy that they missed Hazel’s fib.
Kumquat looked as if she might lose her
breakfast. Wilbert rolled his eyes. Schmoor
giggled.
“Ah, yes. Beautiful children,” said The
Emperor.
“They take after their mother,” said
Brownbeard.
Hazel kicked Brownbeard under the table.
“Ouch!” cried Brownbeard.
“What’s the matter?” asked The Emperor.
“Ouch! How hard—how very painful a
decision it will be to decide whether to accept
your generous offer, or return to our home,” said
Brownbeard.
Brownbeard glared at Hazel. If she was
offended that he had said children as ugly as
Wilbert and Schmoor, or as hairy as Kumquat,
took after her, why had she even said they were
their kids?
* * *
The Emperor gave the crew of the For Sale a
tour of a small part of the mansion. When they got
to the very top floor, the highest point in all the
city of Sa’Laam, Brownbeard and Hazel finally
saw what they had come to see. Clouds had rolled
over the countryside during the night. But here in
the glass-domed treasury of Sa’Laam, they were
far above the snowy white carpet moving slowly
below. Above, a yellow sun burned in a bright
blue sky. The dome was immense. Brownbeard
could not tell for sure, but it seemed nearly the
size of the coliseum, only the walls were clear as
water.
Piles of precious jewels sat like mountains upon
the carpeted floor of the treasury. Light beams
shot out from rubies, emeralds and sapphires.
Here, miles above the gates through which the For
Sale had entered the city, lay the wealth of The
Empire of Sa’Laam. More gold, silver, and
platinum than any pirate could hope to possess.
All flashed and gleamed blindingly bright as
sunlight poured into the treasury.
“Wow!” said Hazel. “So this is all yours?”
“Yes indeed,” said The Emperor. “Though
were you my Empress, it could be yours too.”
Brownbeard squinted as reflected light hit him
in the eye. Hazel smiled at The Emperor.
“Yes, but alas, I am The Captain’s,” said
Hazel.
“True, true,” said The Emperor.
Little furry folk, looking like ferrets walking
upright, moved amongst the piles and piles of
treasure. Kumquat’s attention was immediately
piqued. She wanted one of these creatures. One
climbed high above on a ruby peak. Another was
counting diamonds and making marks on a piece
of paper. Yet another ferret was polishing silver.
“I just had a new shipment of treasure come in
this morning as payment for my performance last
night,” said The Emperor. “All the other players
were paid handsomely as well. You don’t get paid
Captain.”
“Oh, why is that?” asked Brownbeard.
“Because you still have amateur status. Once
you agree to become Secretary of State and sign a
contract, you’ll be paid for all subsequent
performances.”
“Ah-ha.”
“Now, as second-fiddle, you won’t get paid as
much as me. You’ll make half of what I make per
night.”
“How much would that be?” asked
Brownbeard.
The Emperor stopped and thought for a
moment. Then he said, “Umm, that’s a good
question. I don’t really know. But it’s a lot. Even
the thousandth ranked player makes far more
money in one night than the average Sa’Laamian
could hope to make in a thousand lifetimes! And
you won’t have any worries about housing or
food. Room and board is supplied to all
professional rock hitters. Believe me, your digs
will be quite nice.”
“Do even the lowest ranked players have titles
as well?” asked Hazel.
“Absolutely. Lower down in the rankings you
will find our Imperial Judges, Senators-for-Life,
Ambassadors to this, that, and the other—the list
goes on and on,” The Emperor replied.
“Senators-for-Life? What if you fall from the
rankings completely?” asked Brownbeard.
“Oh, no one falls from the rankings
completely. The list just grows and grows. Once
you’re in the fraternity of the rock hitters, you’re a
member until you die. It’s a great retirement
benefit,” answered The Emperor.
“Sounds quite cushy,” said Hazel.
“It is, it is,” smiled The Emperor. “Listen, we
take care of our treasure here in Sa’Laam. And by
treasure, I mean our best and brightest—the
players! We don’t want disgruntled, washed up
rock warriors going off to another solar system
and starting another league. We don’t need the
embarrassment and shame of other civilizations
looking at us and seeing once prosperous greats of
the game living in poverty during their golden
years.”
“I like it. I really like it,” said Brownbeard.
“Where do I sign?”
Hazel glanced at Brownbeard, but said nothing.
“I’ll have the paperwork prepared for signing
right away,” beamed The Emperor.
* * *
Lunch was a continuation of the sumptuous
buffet that had started as breakfast. Afterwards,
the crew of the For Sale met privately in
Brownbeard’s room.
“Okay, we need to strike tonight,” said Hazel.
“We know the location of the treasury. It’s not
guarded at all. The mansion is heavily guarded,
but we’re already in, so that makes our job easier.”
Everyone nodded except Brownbeard.
“Wait a second, Hazel. Let’s think about this,”
he said.
“We are,” said Hazel.
“No, no, I don’t mean that. I mean, what is the
point of this heist?”
“To become the biggest, baddest, richest
pirates in all the Universe,” said Wilbert.
“Yes, yes, of course,” said Brownbeard. “But
why do we need to do that? I mean, I’ve been
thinking about it—it seems to me with the help of
Hazel’s magic I can be The Captain for a long,
long time. We can earn lots of riches and you all
heard about the retirement benefits. Why steal
what we can take legitimately?”
Everyone else looked at Brownbeard as if he
had lost his mind.
“Have you lost your mind?” asked Kumquat.
“No!” said Brownbeard. “I believe my
alternative to be the more prudent path.”
“But Captain! You’re a pirate, not a rock
hitter,” said Wilbert. “Prudent schmoodent! That’s
what I say!”
“Right on!” said Kumquat.
Schmoor nodded his head in agreement.
“Well, it’s just that this is going to be a very
dangerous endeavor—,” began Brownbeard.
“As it all has been!” said Hazel. “We knew it
was going to be dangerous going in. Why did you
want to leave accounting and become a pirate?
Was it not for the glory and adventure? Well,
danger is part of the adventure. No guts, no glory.
And now look at you! You want to use my magic
as a ruse to steal your fortune without the risk!
How lame is that?”
Brownbeard frowned. What was Hazel’s
problem? Why was she so harsh?
“Honestly Brownbeard,” Hazel continued, “Do
you think I need you to become rich? I’ve got all I
need so far as that goes. I’m quite comfortable on
my enchanted island in my sand castle. That’s not
why we’re partners. At least, not as far as I’m
concerned.”
“Oh?”
“I’m in this for the discovery of new
possibilities. We don’t need to be pirates for that.
I thought that’s what you wanted. If you don’t
want to be a pirate, fine—”
“I’m not saying that, Hazel.”
“—but don’t expect me to sit in a gilded cage
in some dumb coliseum while you pretend to hit
rocks into the bleachers. Life’s too short. I’m not
going to be your partner for that.”
Kumquat, Wilbert and Schmoor looked at
Hazel approvingly. It was clear to Brownbeard
where they stood on the issue. He sighed.
“I guess you’re right Hazel,” said Brownbeard.
“You guess?” said Hazel.
“No, no, you are right. But there’s something
else,” said Brownbeard.
“What’s that?” asked Hazel.
“The Emperor seems like such a great guy. I
feel kind of bad about stealing from him. I mean,
he’s been so nice to us,” said Brownbeard.
“Listen Brownie, I don’t think he’s so nice,”
said Hazel. “If he didn’t think you could hit a rock
to kingdom come, do you think he would have
given you the time of day?”
Brownbeard thought about that for a moment
before finally saying, “I doubt it.”
“You’re darn tootin’,” said Hazel.
“But does that mean we should steal?” asked
Brownbeard.
“For Pete’s Sake!” cried Kumquat. “We’re
pirates! Aren’t we? What do pirates do? They don’
t come down people’s chimneys delivering
presents!”
“Look Brownie, if you’re having misgivings
about stealing, fine. We don’t have to do this. I’m
doing this because I thought it was what you
wanted. We don’t need to be pirates. There are
plenty of other things we can do,” said Hazel.
“Dang!” said Wilbert. “I wanted to be a pirate!”
“Hush, Wilbert,” said Hazel.
Brownbeard pursed his lips in thought, and
after a few moments of silence, finally said,
“Hazel, I don’t even know how long we’ve been
on our pirating excursion. It feels like years.”
“It’s been a little over two weeks,” said Hazel.
“Wow, is that all,” said Brownbeard.
Hazel put a hand gently on Brownbeard’s
shoulder.
Brownbeard let out a heavy sigh and said, “I
might like to go back to New Ferry and say ‘Hi’
to Mom and Dad, if that’s all right. If they can see
me, that is. Maybe look up some old friends. Just
spend some time where things are a bit more—a
bit more—ah—what’s the word?”
“Normal?” asked Hazel.
“Sedate?” asked Wilbert.
“Boring as dirt?” asked Kumquat.
“I’m not saying go back forever,” said
Brownbeard. “But just for a little while. I need to
sort things out. I need to think. Maybe there are
things for me to do other than steal for a living, or
add and subtract pennies. Something. Maybe that
something is back on my home planet. Or maybe
not. But this isn’t it. I wouldn’t mind getting rich,
mind you. But not this way.”
“Dang,” said Kumquat.
“Are you sure Brownie?” asked Hazel.
“Yeah. Let’s go home. I’m a lousy pirate. I
don’t even want to steal from a guy who has so
much wealth that he wouldn’t notice if we filled
up a billion ships with his treasure. I don’t even
want to steal from a guy who makes a ridiculous
amount of money doing something so ludicrous
that back on my uncivilized planet he’d just be
considered a wastrel. I’m a lousy, horrible, rotten
pirate. I’m not a pirate at all.”
“You are a lousy pirate,” Hazel whispered in
Brownbeard’s ear. “But you are a wonderful man.”
Then Hazel kissed Brownbeard’s cheek.
“Yuck! I think I need to throw up,” said
Kumquat.
“It is yucky, but kind of sweet at the same
time,” said Wilbert.
Schmoor just smiled and smiled.
extreme. Folks walked around in their pajamas as
they ate and socialized. The Emperor was already
on his third breakfast when Brownbeard got to the
buffet. The rest of the For Sale crew was there
already too.
“How’d you sleep Captain?” asked a jovial
Emperor.
“Okay, I guess. I’m still a bit tired,” replied
Brownbeard.
“That’s because we had a big night last night,”
said The Emperor.
“I’ll bet your right,” said Brownbeard.
“Grab yourself a plate before I eat it all up!”
said The Emperor. “I’m just getting started!”
Everyone around laughed. Brownbeard made
his way to the buffet, where the scene before him
woke him. There was a stunning amount of
delicious food on display. Brownbeard’s tummy
was ready for yummy. A chef prepared
Brownbeard a three lummox egg omelet with
toadstools, raspberries, and wheat germ.
“Would you like a little or a lot of sauce to top
your omelet?” inquired the chef.
“What are my choices?” asked Brownbeard.
“Anything you would please,” answered the
chef. “Chocolate, barbecue, black olive and
honey, balsamic vinaigrette with marshmallow
bits, grape remoulade—just tell me what you’d
like.”
“Oh, gosh. That all sounds perfect. Put all
those you named on my man!” said Brownbeard.
“Yes sir, Captain,” smiled the chef.
Brownbeard returned to sit next to The
Emperor and Hazel and the gang.
“Captain,” said The Emperor. “Let’s talk about
your future here in Sa’Laam.”
“My future in Sa’Laam?” asked Brownbeard.
“Hazel here tells me your plans are not
definite. That how long you stay in Sa’Laam has
yet to be determined,” said The Emperor.
“That’s true. We’re just passing through,” said
Brownbeard.
“And I’m glad you’re here. What I want to
know is will you consider staying?” asked The
Emperor.
“Stay? Just hitting rocks in the coliseum?”
asked Brownbeard.
“Well, no! Not just hit rocks. You’ll be
Secretary of State of The Empire of Sa’Laam!”
said The Emperor.
“Secretary of State?” asked Brownbeard.
“Sure! I think. Maybe it’s Secretary of Defense
or Treasury. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure
what your title will be. Whatever title goes to the
number two man in Sa’Laam, that’s the title you’ll
have,” beamed The Emperor.
“He’ll take Treasury,” said Wilbert. “Ouch!”
Kumquat and Schmoor both kicked Wilbert in
the shins from under the table.
“So, because I hit the ball almost but not quite
as far as you last night, I get to be the second most
powerful man in all of Sa’Laam?”
“You got it!” said The Emperor. “That’s how
things work here.”
“You mean, if I’d have won our contest last
night, I’d be The Emperor?”
The Emperor took a deep breath and said,
“Yes, you came a few feet away from rightfully
seizing the reins of power. I gotta tell you, I have
never been so scared in all my life Captain! You
really pushed me. None of those other cads on the
field ever challenged me like that.”
“Wow. I don’t know,” said Brownbeard. “I’ll
have to think about that. Before becoming The
Captain, I was an accountant. I’ve never been
involved in the running of an Empire. I doubt I’m
qualified.”
“Listen Captain,” said The Emperor leaning
close, “Most people ‘round here don’t know my
real story. I’m gonna tell you. I haven’t always
been The Emperor. Before I took up rock
smacking, my name was Irwin Fruitstein. I ran a
sandwich shop in a nearby solar system for five
years after flunking eighth grade for the third time.
I wasn’t stupid or anything. I just wasn’t a good
student.
“Unfortunately, I came from a planet that didn’
t have rock hitting teams in the schools. On my
home planet, to graduate from high school, you
would actually have to pass classes! So, I didn’t
become a rock hitter by getting a scholarship to
some fancy-schmancy university like the guys we
were playing with last night. I don’t have no high
falootin’ degree from Frokmee University or the
Plaferdoo Institute of Sis-Boom-bology. And you
know what?”
“What?” asked Brownbeard, keeping his part
of the conversation up.
“I didn’t need to!” exclaimed The Emperor. “I
learned to work hard making my sandwich shop
into a successful business. But I am blessed. I
was given a talent that no one else in the galaxy
has—except for you! I could hit a rock farther
than anyone else. I knew that if I kept practicing
every day, even for a little bit, maybe in the
morning before opening my shop, or after closing,
whatever it took—I knew that if I did that and
saved my money, I could get myself to a place
where my talent would be rewarded! Now here I
am! The most powerful, most wealthy, most great
ruler of any civilization in the Milky Way! Who
would of thunk it?”
“That’s incredible,” said Brownbeard. He was
truly impressed. Brownbeard admired hard work
and people who brought themselves up from
having very little to having a very lot.
“Yes,” agreed The Emperor. “Incredible. But
my point is this: Who’s to say if you’re qualified
to be Secretary of State? You? Me? The good
people of Sa’Laam? No! Don’t answer. There is
no answer! I’ve been The Emperor for twenty
years. So long as I can hit rocks the way I do, I
have the full support of all Sa’Laamians. And the
other positions of leadership in this Empire are
filled according to how you hit. No matter where
in the Universe you were born, how far you go in
Sa’Laam is for you to determine. Just throw that
rock and swing!”
“That’s fantastic! What do you think of that
Hazel? A society based on the ability to hit rocks
very far. That is truly exquisite.”
“I told you,” said Hazel, “Sa’Laam is the
standard by which all civilizations past, present
and future shall be judged. Now you know.”
“Hazel’s a smart lady,” said The Emperor.
“And beautiful as well.”
Hazel blushed.
“Oh, Emperor,” she said, “You’re a flatterer.”
The Emperor smiled and said, “You’re a lucky
man Captain. If Hazel was not yours, I’d make her
Empress of Sa’Laam. She is with you? Isn’t she? I
mean, you two are an item, aren’t you?”
“Ahhh—well—it’s aaah,” Brownbeard
stammered. He was not sure what to say. Hazel
was in no way his lady, but he had been in love
with her since first laying eyes upon her. He
thought she liked him, but he was not sure. And he
thought they had made up after their fight. But he
was not totally sure about that either.
“Yes,” said Hazel. “The Captain and I are
happily married. You’ve met our children
already.”
Hazel motioned towards Kumquat, Wilbert and
Schmoor who were all busy stuffing their faces.
But not so busy that they missed Hazel’s fib.
Kumquat looked as if she might lose her
breakfast. Wilbert rolled his eyes. Schmoor
giggled.
“Ah, yes. Beautiful children,” said The
Emperor.
“They take after their mother,” said
Brownbeard.
Hazel kicked Brownbeard under the table.
“Ouch!” cried Brownbeard.
“What’s the matter?” asked The Emperor.
“Ouch! How hard—how very painful a
decision it will be to decide whether to accept
your generous offer, or return to our home,” said
Brownbeard.
Brownbeard glared at Hazel. If she was
offended that he had said children as ugly as
Wilbert and Schmoor, or as hairy as Kumquat,
took after her, why had she even said they were
their kids?
* * *
The Emperor gave the crew of the For Sale a
tour of a small part of the mansion. When they got
to the very top floor, the highest point in all the
city of Sa’Laam, Brownbeard and Hazel finally
saw what they had come to see. Clouds had rolled
over the countryside during the night. But here in
the glass-domed treasury of Sa’Laam, they were
far above the snowy white carpet moving slowly
below. Above, a yellow sun burned in a bright
blue sky. The dome was immense. Brownbeard
could not tell for sure, but it seemed nearly the
size of the coliseum, only the walls were clear as
water.
Piles of precious jewels sat like mountains upon
the carpeted floor of the treasury. Light beams
shot out from rubies, emeralds and sapphires.
Here, miles above the gates through which the For
Sale had entered the city, lay the wealth of The
Empire of Sa’Laam. More gold, silver, and
platinum than any pirate could hope to possess.
All flashed and gleamed blindingly bright as
sunlight poured into the treasury.
“Wow!” said Hazel. “So this is all yours?”
“Yes indeed,” said The Emperor. “Though
were you my Empress, it could be yours too.”
Brownbeard squinted as reflected light hit him
in the eye. Hazel smiled at The Emperor.
“Yes, but alas, I am The Captain’s,” said
Hazel.
“True, true,” said The Emperor.
Little furry folk, looking like ferrets walking
upright, moved amongst the piles and piles of
treasure. Kumquat’s attention was immediately
piqued. She wanted one of these creatures. One
climbed high above on a ruby peak. Another was
counting diamonds and making marks on a piece
of paper. Yet another ferret was polishing silver.
“I just had a new shipment of treasure come in
this morning as payment for my performance last
night,” said The Emperor. “All the other players
were paid handsomely as well. You don’t get paid
Captain.”
“Oh, why is that?” asked Brownbeard.
“Because you still have amateur status. Once
you agree to become Secretary of State and sign a
contract, you’ll be paid for all subsequent
performances.”
“Ah-ha.”
“Now, as second-fiddle, you won’t get paid as
much as me. You’ll make half of what I make per
night.”
“How much would that be?” asked
Brownbeard.
The Emperor stopped and thought for a
moment. Then he said, “Umm, that’s a good
question. I don’t really know. But it’s a lot. Even
the thousandth ranked player makes far more
money in one night than the average Sa’Laamian
could hope to make in a thousand lifetimes! And
you won’t have any worries about housing or
food. Room and board is supplied to all
professional rock hitters. Believe me, your digs
will be quite nice.”
“Do even the lowest ranked players have titles
as well?” asked Hazel.
“Absolutely. Lower down in the rankings you
will find our Imperial Judges, Senators-for-Life,
Ambassadors to this, that, and the other—the list
goes on and on,” The Emperor replied.
“Senators-for-Life? What if you fall from the
rankings completely?” asked Brownbeard.
“Oh, no one falls from the rankings
completely. The list just grows and grows. Once
you’re in the fraternity of the rock hitters, you’re a
member until you die. It’s a great retirement
benefit,” answered The Emperor.
“Sounds quite cushy,” said Hazel.
“It is, it is,” smiled The Emperor. “Listen, we
take care of our treasure here in Sa’Laam. And by
treasure, I mean our best and brightest—the
players! We don’t want disgruntled, washed up
rock warriors going off to another solar system
and starting another league. We don’t need the
embarrassment and shame of other civilizations
looking at us and seeing once prosperous greats of
the game living in poverty during their golden
years.”
“I like it. I really like it,” said Brownbeard.
“Where do I sign?”
Hazel glanced at Brownbeard, but said nothing.
“I’ll have the paperwork prepared for signing
right away,” beamed The Emperor.
* * *
Lunch was a continuation of the sumptuous
buffet that had started as breakfast. Afterwards,
the crew of the For Sale met privately in
Brownbeard’s room.
“Okay, we need to strike tonight,” said Hazel.
“We know the location of the treasury. It’s not
guarded at all. The mansion is heavily guarded,
but we’re already in, so that makes our job easier.”
Everyone nodded except Brownbeard.
“Wait a second, Hazel. Let’s think about this,”
he said.
“We are,” said Hazel.
“No, no, I don’t mean that. I mean, what is the
point of this heist?”
“To become the biggest, baddest, richest
pirates in all the Universe,” said Wilbert.
“Yes, yes, of course,” said Brownbeard. “But
why do we need to do that? I mean, I’ve been
thinking about it—it seems to me with the help of
Hazel’s magic I can be The Captain for a long,
long time. We can earn lots of riches and you all
heard about the retirement benefits. Why steal
what we can take legitimately?”
Everyone else looked at Brownbeard as if he
had lost his mind.
“Have you lost your mind?” asked Kumquat.
“No!” said Brownbeard. “I believe my
alternative to be the more prudent path.”
“But Captain! You’re a pirate, not a rock
hitter,” said Wilbert. “Prudent schmoodent! That’s
what I say!”
“Right on!” said Kumquat.
Schmoor nodded his head in agreement.
“Well, it’s just that this is going to be a very
dangerous endeavor—,” began Brownbeard.
“As it all has been!” said Hazel. “We knew it
was going to be dangerous going in. Why did you
want to leave accounting and become a pirate?
Was it not for the glory and adventure? Well,
danger is part of the adventure. No guts, no glory.
And now look at you! You want to use my magic
as a ruse to steal your fortune without the risk!
How lame is that?”
Brownbeard frowned. What was Hazel’s
problem? Why was she so harsh?
“Honestly Brownbeard,” Hazel continued, “Do
you think I need you to become rich? I’ve got all I
need so far as that goes. I’m quite comfortable on
my enchanted island in my sand castle. That’s not
why we’re partners. At least, not as far as I’m
concerned.”
“Oh?”
“I’m in this for the discovery of new
possibilities. We don’t need to be pirates for that.
I thought that’s what you wanted. If you don’t
want to be a pirate, fine—”
“I’m not saying that, Hazel.”
“—but don’t expect me to sit in a gilded cage
in some dumb coliseum while you pretend to hit
rocks into the bleachers. Life’s too short. I’m not
going to be your partner for that.”
Kumquat, Wilbert and Schmoor looked at
Hazel approvingly. It was clear to Brownbeard
where they stood on the issue. He sighed.
“I guess you’re right Hazel,” said Brownbeard.
“You guess?” said Hazel.
“No, no, you are right. But there’s something
else,” said Brownbeard.
“What’s that?” asked Hazel.
“The Emperor seems like such a great guy. I
feel kind of bad about stealing from him. I mean,
he’s been so nice to us,” said Brownbeard.
“Listen Brownie, I don’t think he’s so nice,”
said Hazel. “If he didn’t think you could hit a rock
to kingdom come, do you think he would have
given you the time of day?”
Brownbeard thought about that for a moment
before finally saying, “I doubt it.”
“You’re darn tootin’,” said Hazel.
“But does that mean we should steal?” asked
Brownbeard.
“For Pete’s Sake!” cried Kumquat. “We’re
pirates! Aren’t we? What do pirates do? They don’
t come down people’s chimneys delivering
presents!”
“Look Brownie, if you’re having misgivings
about stealing, fine. We don’t have to do this. I’m
doing this because I thought it was what you
wanted. We don’t need to be pirates. There are
plenty of other things we can do,” said Hazel.
“Dang!” said Wilbert. “I wanted to be a pirate!”
“Hush, Wilbert,” said Hazel.
Brownbeard pursed his lips in thought, and
after a few moments of silence, finally said,
“Hazel, I don’t even know how long we’ve been
on our pirating excursion. It feels like years.”
“It’s been a little over two weeks,” said Hazel.
“Wow, is that all,” said Brownbeard.
Hazel put a hand gently on Brownbeard’s
shoulder.
Brownbeard let out a heavy sigh and said, “I
might like to go back to New Ferry and say ‘Hi’
to Mom and Dad, if that’s all right. If they can see
me, that is. Maybe look up some old friends. Just
spend some time where things are a bit more—a
bit more—ah—what’s the word?”
“Normal?” asked Hazel.
“Sedate?” asked Wilbert.
“Boring as dirt?” asked Kumquat.
“I’m not saying go back forever,” said
Brownbeard. “But just for a little while. I need to
sort things out. I need to think. Maybe there are
things for me to do other than steal for a living, or
add and subtract pennies. Something. Maybe that
something is back on my home planet. Or maybe
not. But this isn’t it. I wouldn’t mind getting rich,
mind you. But not this way.”
“Dang,” said Kumquat.
“Are you sure Brownie?” asked Hazel.
“Yeah. Let’s go home. I’m a lousy pirate. I
don’t even want to steal from a guy who has so
much wealth that he wouldn’t notice if we filled
up a billion ships with his treasure. I don’t even
want to steal from a guy who makes a ridiculous
amount of money doing something so ludicrous
that back on my uncivilized planet he’d just be
considered a wastrel. I’m a lousy, horrible, rotten
pirate. I’m not a pirate at all.”
“You are a lousy pirate,” Hazel whispered in
Brownbeard’s ear. “But you are a wonderful man.”
Then Hazel kissed Brownbeard’s cheek.
“Yuck! I think I need to throw up,” said
Kumquat.
“It is yucky, but kind of sweet at the same
time,” said Wilbert.
Schmoor just smiled and smiled.
The Adventures of Short Stubbly Brownbeard
Alan J. Levine
* * *
Chapter Thirty-Two
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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.