9

 

The Pirate Ship

 

That infernal dog headed straight for the pirate ship.

Yep, there is a pirate ship in Tivoli Gardens. An actual enormous old-fashioned sailing ship floated on a small lake in the middle of the park. A gangplank connected the vessel to shore. Adventurous souls used this ramp to board the ship wherein they could indulge in pirate-y food and drink.

A large, slobbery dog would only add to the chaos of such a situation.

I hauled my soaked and bedraggled self out of Dragon Boat Lake. I shook pond water and a few strands of waterweed out of my shoes. With more force than was strictly necessary, I crammed my trailing, sagging nylons back into my platform sandals and limped after Leroy.

The dog seemed refreshed after his dousing. He pranced along the path with his thick tail waving like a hairy flag behind him, spraying droplets of water on all who ventured too near. Ridiculous animal. I had to capture him at all costs. If I didn’t get the dog back to August soon, he might think I’d stood him up. What if August abandoned his search and decided to leave the dog in my custody indefinitely? I hobbled faster.

Leroy hopped on the gangplank and padded over to the ship.

I pulled at my dress, trying to make the sopping garment look a little bit more dignified. I had worried that the cute red sundress was a mite too short. Not anymore. The soaked skirt sagged longer and longer with each passing moment, but refused to stretch evenly. On my right side, it was about knee length. On my left side, the dress was a good four inches longer and hung in strange, lumpy folds. My shoes squelched with each step and became an unsavory shade of brown as dirt and leaves clung to the sodden surface. After a long trudging journey, I finally reached the gangplank and hobbled across.

It did not take me long to spot the absentee canine. Amidst a slew of rough wooden tables and waiters in pirate garb, an enormous replica of a hammerhead shark hung down from one of the masts. Right below the massive shark sat Leroy. He had made a friend near a bowl of peanuts and was barking and thumping his tail.

A guy in a pirate costume tossed him morsels from the peanut bowl. The man looked up from his new doggy friend and gave me a rakish grin. His blond hair was pulled back into a short tail, and he had a patch over one eye. He had a blond soul patch and a swooping waxed mustache. The corsair’s costume was completed by tight black pants, tall boots, a white billowy shirt, and what looked like an actual sword on one hip. The pirate bowed, pulled out his phone, and snapped a picture of me storming across the deck toward Leroy.

Was everyone picture crazy in Denmark?

Perhaps I was so marvelously entertaining that none could resist a snapshot. Either way, the photo snapping did not improve my volcanic mood.

Leroy thumped down onto the deck and rolled on his back, pretending to be all repentant and sad. His big brown eyes did not sooth my ire.

I snatched up his collar and told him to “Come!” in the stern kind of voice that I had heard on TV from award winning dog trainers. My fierceness worked.

Leroy slogged after me like a heap of reluctant molasses. As we traversed the deck together, Pirate Guy laughed and snapped another shot of my humiliation.

Then something across the water caught Leroy’s eye and he froze.

I jolted to a halt beside him and peered out over the water.

People crowded the paths across the lake, but Leroy seemed intent on some distinct sound.

After a moment, I distinguished the piercing cries of children shrieking and playing alongside the water. The three little boys from Dragon Boat Lake skipped stones with their mom, just opposite the pirate boat.

Leroy pulled the leash from my stiff fingers and propped his paws up on the side of the ship.

I clomped after him across the deck, wondering if anyone would notice if Leroy got swapped for the pig in the upcoming luau that night. No, all I had to do was get him to August, and then he could decide whether the animal should be roasted or not.

The pirate raised his phone for one more snapshot of the soggy girl and her unrepentant beast.

A scream cut the air.

The youngest boy wobbled on a fallen log that stuck out into the deeper water. His mother scrambled to snatch him up, but she was too slow. The little boy plopped into the lake, came up thrashing, and then he sank.

Leroy stared at him, still and intent.

I seized the leash.

Leroy leaped from the pirate ship.

I had only a blink to stare at his retreating rump before the leash snapped taut and yanked me over the edge. I flung the leash away and screamed, a lot. But it was too late. I fell toward the dark water below and it was a much farther drop than from the bumper boat. I closed my eyes, bracing for a stinging splash. Something caught my foot and I crashed against the side of the ship, upside down, tangled, and in pain. My dress. I tugged at the fabric trying to maintain a shred of modesty as darkness crept in upon my vision. I felt sticky moisture behind my ear. It was weirdly quiet and my leg really hurt, but a weakness in my limbs made sleep seem like the best option at the moment. I sagged against some kind of netting and closed my eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart. Open your eyes.”

I cracked my lids.

August was hanging from a net beside me.

“You should get your dog,” I said. “He’s over there…saving children and eating stuff.”

“Let’s get you untangled, milady, and then you can chase that savage fiend to your heart’s content.”

It wasn’t August after all. The pirate untangled my shoe and pulled me into his arms. Despite the drama of the situation, he was still in character.

I stared at the handsome rogue. “You take your job far too seriously.”

He squeezed me tight against him.

I tried to squeak out a warning, but he only squeezed me tighter. I puked all over his manly chest.

My heroic pirate recoiled and dropped me into the dark swirling waters below.

Water slammed up my nose. I sank toward the bottom all tangled up in my purse straps. Yanking the little backpack purse off my shoulders, I tried to kick. The formerly adorable shoes were impossible. I wasn’t going anywhere.

Someone broke through the surface above me. The pirate was stroking under the water toward me.

I ripped one shoe off and was yanking on the other one when he reached me.

He grabbed my purse and shoved it into my hands. Then he slipped an arm around my waist and tugged me to the surface. We hit the top, sputtering and gasping. The pirate pulled me to shore and set me carefully on the bank.

I leaned against a small weeping willow that hung down over the water and hid my face in my hands. It was all too awful. Oh, no. The little boy. I sat up and looked around. Should we plunge back in the water? Had he gotten to safety? I spotted Leroy about ten feet to my right, surrounded by adoring fans.

All three boys squeezed him and their mother was feeding him more ice cream.

I sighed and sagged back against the bank. At least one of us was all right.

“You were very brave to think of the boy.” The pirate sank to one knee on the bank, his eyes solemn, and his wet shirt clinging to broad, muscular shoulders. I looked away, embarrassed that I’d noticed.

“Most people wouldn’t consider going back into the water after a fall like that.” The pirate’s voice was quiet, no longer in character. He snapped his eye patch back into place as I looked up into his face.

“Thank you, I think. You won’t really keep those pictures, will you? Can’t you just erase them? I’ve had the worst day. You can’t imagine.”

He smiled down at me, and I noticed a dimple in his cheek for just an instant before his face went serious again. He shook his head, cupped my jaw in his hand and slowly, gently, kissed me on the lips.

I sat frozen for just an instant.

He turned and dove back into the lake, swimming toward the pirate ship with strong, even strokes. What in the world?

I stared after him, angry, confused, still feeling the warm tingle on my lips where he had touched me.

Then Leroy splashed down upon me and slurped my face and neck and arms in such an enthusiastic greeting that I could think of nothing but diving back into the dark, weedy water to save myself from his fervent affections.