Bash and the Pirate Pig by Burton W. Cole

Author:Burton W. Cole
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Religious, Christian
Publisher: B&H Publishing Group
Published: 2013-07-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

The Pirate Pig of the Pond

The pirate crew reassembled on the shore of our pirate ocean. We’d littered the bank with bottles, boxes, bowls, bookends, bars of soap and even wooden picture frames, plus some volunteered crew in cages and a bucket of water.

Mary Jane yelled as she pedaled up. “Look! We had a couple plastic yacht toys at the store. I bought them with my allowance. I bet Christopher’s mice can fit inside and steer.”

“Wow!” Second Mate and Pirate Admiral Bash immediately promoted Mary Jane to third mate and assistant pirate admiral. I didn’t care. I still was chief.

We nailed the sides onto our blue door floor flagship, anchored the mast into the middle to the left of the black door handle, and nailed Bash’s bed sheet to the pole to catch a breeze. It sagged.

I flicked the droopy sheet. “How’s it supposed to catch a breeze if there’s only one pole and only one side is attached?”

“Um, because it’s really a pirate flag, not a sail. We should draw a cool skull and crossbones on it.”

“Your mom probably wouldn’t like that.”

“Well, if you squint just right, that stain where I spilled hot chocolate one night kinda looks like a skull and crossbones.”

While Bash and I finished the flagship, the rest of the pirates split open sides of cereal boxes, carved openings into plastic bottles and planted handkerchief flags in shoeboxes and picture frames and whatever else we had for boats. After a while, we were ready.

Bash darted away. “Be right back.”

A few minutes later, there he came, riding Captain Gulliver J. McFrederick the Third, an almost three-foot high, reddish barrel of sausages trotting on short, churning legs. The huge hog’s ears drooped and his snout crinkled into an odd grin. Gulliver J. snuffled along, keeping his piggy nose to the ground in case he ran into something interesting to eat.

The Basher sat proudly on his stubby steed. “Pigs are smart. See, when I tug on his left ear, he turns left. When I tug on the right, he turns right. I tap him on the sides with my feet to go. Or I just yell ‘giddyup.’ I’ve almost taught him ‘whoa’ too.”

“He doesn’t throw you off?”

“Nah. Gulliver J. McFrederick the Third likes it. He follows me around the pigpen when I’m feeding him until I hop on. But sometimes on hot days he decides to roll in the mucky wallowing pool to cool off while I’m still aboard.”

“Yuck.”

Gulliver trotted right up and greeted the pirate gang.

Second Mate and Pirate Admiral Bash hopped off and stood with his hands on his hips. “Arrr, me hearties. Avast and anchors away. Shiver me timbers. Raise the giblets. See how the mainsail sets.”

Sailor Jig scratched his head through his ball cap. “Huh?”

“Load up the crew.”

“Oh.”

Bonkers pulled his wagon load of pet cages onto the fishing pier and started packing mice into cups and the plastic yachts from Morris’s Corner Store. “They’ve got the best ships of all, real ones.”

“At least somebody will be safe,” I muttered.

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