The pirate ship had its own special entrance separate from the main museum, which stood behind them. Barrie scanned the marina, taking in the rows upon rows of boats docked with their colorful assortment of names painted across their hulls. Mermaid Lagoon. Skull Rock. Pirate’s Booty. Seagulls swooped overhead, peppering the clear skies and occasionally plunging into the water in search of a meal, while a few ducks bobbed on the whitecaps. Barrie eyed the dark, frothy water nervously.
What swims beneath those waves? he wondered.
Barrie wasn’t afraid of much, but the open sea had always terrified him for some reason. Rita was scared of spiders, snakes, boogers, farts…and, well, just about anything she deemed gross.
But Barrie didn’t mind any of that stuff. Spiders were pretty rad with all their eyes and legs and how they spun intricate webs out of nothing. He even thought that snakes were kind of adorable, much to his sister’s abject horror.
And everyone knew farts and boogers were hilarious.
So, why did the ocean scare him so much?
Maybe it had something to do with that scary, old shark movie that Rita let him watch when he was way too young. He could still remember the creepy monotone music (da-num, da-num, da-num), the giant, slightly fake-looking shark cutting through the waves, and the tourists’ feet dangling underwater, begging for the shark to chomp them off.
Maybe that’s what happened to the pirate captain’s hand, Barrie thought, staring at the water. Maybe it was a shark’s lunch. He shuddered at the thought.
Anything could be lurking beneath that impenetrable surface, waiting for a chance to sink its teeth into him.
“What’s up, Goober?” his sister asked, giving him a little push from behind.
It was only then that Barrie realized he’d stopped walking, frozen by his dire thoughts. Rita shoved past him, and Barrie took a breath, looking around. At the far end of the gangplank loomed the pirate ship. The words Jolly Roger were painted onto the side in ornate, cursive script, just like in the pictures online. The massive ship bobbed up and down on the unquiet sea. It looked even larger in real life.
A skull and crossbones flag flew across the bow, battered by the wind. The ship didn’t appear friendly, but Barrie supposed that was the point. It was a pirate ship, after all. That flag had one clear message for any trespassers.
Stay away, matey—or else!
Distracted by the flag and its eerie skull symbol, Barrie felt his feet slip on the gangplank. Panicked, he wheeled his arms and grasped at the rope railing for support. The scratchy cord bit into his palms, burning them. The thin rope was the only thing keeping him from plunging overboard into the ocean.
Suddenly, a dark shadow in the water darted under the gangplank and came out the other side.
Faintly, he heard a strange ticking. He strained his ears, struggling to hear it over the waves.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
Was there a clock somewhere nearby? If so, where?
The shadow returned, slipping back toward the gangplank. Barrie’s pulse began to thrum. Suddenly, a big wave sloshed up, spraying his face and stinging his eyes. He blinked hard to clear them, and when he looked back, the shadow was gone, along with the strange noise. He squinted at the murky water, trying to see beneath it, and listened harder.
Nothing.
Before he could ponder the mystery further, the tour guide’s voice broke his concentration.
“Hurry up, mateys,” the guy said, slipping into an awful cockney accent, like something out of a bad pirate movie. “No lollygagging on me ship—or I’ll make ye swab the decks.”
Barrie eyed their guide, a chipper local college student. And also, clearly, kind of a dork, Barrie thought, taking in his thick, unstylish glasses and stiff plaid shirt tucked into his high-waist
ed jeans. Who tucked their shirt into their jeans?
“Nerd,” Barrie muttered under his breath. He hurried the rest of the way up the gangplank, joining the rest of the group on the ship’s deck.
Rita caught his eye and snort-laughed. “Major nerd,” she whispered, making him giggle.
“Hey, be respectful,” Dad said, shooting them both a chastising look. “And Rita, I expect you to set a better example for your little brother.”
Barrie tried to stifle his giggles, but one glance at his sister sent them both into another laughing fit.
They didn’t always agree, but at times like these, Barrie was reminded that they had way more in common than he liked to admit—especially when his sister was being annoying, which happened on a daily basis. Or more like an every-minute basis.
And nothing could bond them together like a dull history tour that their dad had foisted upon them. This wasn’t the first time a perfectly great Sunday had been ruined this way. And it won’t be the last, Barrie thought glumly as the guide launched into his boring spiel.