Chapter 3: Day 1 (3 of 3)

I am happy to report that the evening feast in the captain’s quarters went better than anticipated. We dined on a most unusual and delectable Italian dish: calzone di formaggio. My companions did their best ‘wolf-eating-carcass’ impersonations from our earlier exploits and we all had a great laugh. They then asked for something quite peculiar; something called “vegetables.” When I pressed further, they described them as green-ish things that grow from the ground and only require rain and sunshine to thrive (and I suspect moonbeams and lollipops, too), and that they are nutritious and delicious. I quietly laughed into my shirtsleeve, not wanting to expose their childish notions and embarrass them with my songs of experience. 
Instead, we filled our tankards with milk, or in my case “Captain’s” milk, given to me by my late great friend and confidant, the Welsh privateer of the Caribbean, Sir Henry Morgan. (Captain Morgan. (n.d.). In Wikipedia. Retrieved March 10, 2013, from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Captain_Morgan)

After our meal, we retired to the parlour to continue our merriment and prepare for the evening’s entertainment—a moving picture. Our selection was somewhat narrowed thanks in no small part to the circumstances that initiated this very adventure. The plot line of nearly every film considered involved a mother going away and never returning. The abundance of matricidal themed offerings made me question out loud how the “happiest place on earth” could be built so high on the discarded remains of so many dead mothers.  My new friends merely looked at me, and waited to see what moving images would grace the screen. I finally found something suitable: The Black Cauldron. It was billed as a “fun-filled tale of heroism”. In reality, it was a demon-filled tale replete with witchcraft, dragons, a great horned beast, an army of the undead, and an oracular pig who had the ability to make great prophecies by sticking his snout into a swirling trough. He was very cute. 

At the conclusion of the film, which involved the aforementioned horned beast being drawn into the cauldron, thus bringing down the evil kingdom and inducing a resurrection of the up-until-this-moment dead protagonist, I brought my young trembling friends to their quarters, where I am sure they will sleep peacefully and soundly, dreaming only of lily pads and unicorns.

A joyous day, indeed. I must remember to close the windows and batten the hatches before my slumber. A most ferocious wind is just beginning to whip through the galley, and there is a sound like hungry wolves pacing just beyond the garden gates.

Good night and good speed.

Captain Timmy

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