Chapter Four Of The Strange Beach

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As Dark As His Tar Black Soul

The strange beach was stifled as if the ghosts of notorious pirates, maybe even Blackbeard himself had come back to silence the coastline. My imagination was chuck full of childhood tales—I could picture infamous pirates wielding silver cutlass swords and gallant king’s men battling at sea, but the sand was deserted and even the wind now held its breath. “Bro, we’ve fallen down the rabbit hole or something. I know were not in Pixie Dust anymore . . . but where the heck are we Wonderland?” Mason said in full meltdown mode. “And . . .” he glanced around like he had a twitch, “I saw a flicker of movement in the water. Something’s out there I can feel it, you hear me? I’ll be fine though—you cut
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As the boat got closer, I spotted a big barrel-chested guy with bulging muscles, scraggly hair, and a long dark beard holding a bloodstained three-pronged spear. He wore a Monmouth cap, frock coat, dark breeches, and knee-high black buckled boots. Next to him was a young boy with startling electric blue eyes, dressed a tattered red vest, a lace up woman’s blouse, and a white waist sash. His black hair was plastered down on each side of his head and a spit-curl dangled over his right eyebrow. A long-tailed red, blue, and yellow macaw was skipping back and forth on the railings. There was something very unparrot like about the birds gaze. It seemed daring, almost dangerous. Once they were within earshot, I could hear the boy warbling happily, “Shiver my timbers, shake my soul, yo ho-ho, yo ho-ho, there are chaps with hearts as black as coal. They glided there craft across the sea so blue, a murderous captain and a cutthroat crew. It’s a shadowy tale as was ever told, of a thirst for treasure and a craving for gold . . . Shiver my timbers, shake my soul, yo ho-ho. There are appetites as strong as the winds and tides yo ho-ho a pirate’s life for me.” But the man with the spear and the bird just stared at us with strange frozen smiles. Fear whacked a hand-over-fist beat against my chest. At the shore, the boy stopped singing, and the man removed his shiny brass spyglass from its holster and gave us the
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