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Oluwande was tired.
As Buttons and Roach began to chase the Swede around their tiny island, he contemplated their situation. He figured that he’d die here, on this little spit of land in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the idiots he’d come to consider almost family - but not his real family, no, not Jim.
Whether it would be dehydration, heat stroke, or Button’s false teeth, one way or another, Oluwande was pretty sure this was the end.
He wasn’t sure he could find it in himself to care at this moment. He was hot, and thirsty, and tired. He should probably get up and step in to stop the three way battle now occurring (the Swede was putting up a surprisingly good fight, actually). They’d once elected him their captain and what was he doing now? Pouting on the beach?
Looking out at the water, actually. And maybe that was a good thing, because he could see a dot on the horizon. Was that… a boat? A very small one, possibly, but still. A boat! Maybe he wouldn’t die on this tiny island.
He took out his scope…
“Oh, fuck me,” Oluwande muttered.
Was that… the captain? What the fuck?
Well, that was unexpected. And Oluwande wasn’t sure where that left their hopes of rescue. But one thing was for sure, now he really needed to stop Buttons and Roach from eating the Swede.
“Guys, guys, will you fucking stop it? Don’t eat the Swede, don’t eat anybody! There’s a dinghy approaching, and I swear it’s the captain.”
“Blackbeard’s back?” Pete asked, an uneven tone in his voice.
“No, you idiot, our captain. Captain Bonnet.”
“The hell is he doing here?” Wee John asked.
“I’m not sure, but I do know he’ll be pretty upset if he finds out you ate the Swede while he was gone, especially when he was so close, so get it together, alright?”
Buttons and Roach reluctantly stepped back from where they’d cornered the Swede, Buttons taking out his teeth as he did so.
The captain approached, managing to get his dinghy up to the island without too much mishap, though it looked like he might tip over a time or two. Clearly, rowing was not one of his greater skills. Still, he made it, and together they pulled the dinghy up.
“Guys!” he said in his cheery voice. “I’m so glad to see you! But what are you doing out here? Where’s the ship?”
“Gone,” Oluwande replied morosely.
“Gone? What do you mean, gone? How can the ship just be gone?”
“It’s gone because your boyfriend stole it. He took the ship and marooned us here. Stole half the crew, too, not that you noticed,” Pete snapped.
“Of course I noticed,” the captain replied, offended, “it just seemed like a ship might be a more pressing matter with you all out here in the middle of nowhere. Jim, Frenchie, Lucius? They’re gone too, with the ship?”
Slightly mollified, Pete nodded.
“What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere? What’s going on?”
Oluwande quickly summed up the situation, with the proposed talent show - an idea the captain seemed delighted by - and how Izzy had rowed them out for one last rehearsal before the ship began sailing off with their remaining members still aboard. The captain’s delight faded as Oluwande explained, until he looked distressed and confused.
“Why would they do that? Just leave you all here?”
“Because of you,” Wee John called from where he was trying to hide from the sun under one of the island’s trees, unsuccessfully, if his budding sunburn was any indication.
“Me?”
“Not sure what you did, but you got Blackbeard real messed up, captain,” Oluwande cut in before anyone else could chime in with a snappy comment. “First he was all emotional and sad, then he got angry. Made us throw out all your stuff, your books and all. And then, I don’t know, got rid of us, too.”
There was a sniffle behind Oluwande. He was pretty sure it came from the Swede. He heard a quiet muttered “there, there” from Buttons. From attempted murder and eating to comfort in just a few moments, but then again, that was their crew, wasn’t it? They never made any sense. No wonder Blackbeard dumped them, he probably wanted a more competent bunch.
Jim was more than competent.
Ah, Jim.
The captain was speaking again, but Oluwande had missed what he said. He tried to tune back in -
“- so we’ll just have to make sure we distribute the weight evenly.”
Without context, that sounded confusing and dangerous, and Oluwande was betting that context wasn’t going to make it much better.
“Captain, respectfully, what the hell are you talking about?”
The captain looked at him reproachfully, as if he knew Oluwande hadn’t been paying attention.
“Well, we have to get you all off this island somehow, Olu, and we only have the one dinghy. So we have to make sure we’re careful getting off. It wouldn’t do to tip over once we get out there.”
Oluwande was right. Context did not help. The plan was dangerous, and foolish, and more than a little mad - classic Bonnet. But sometimes Bonnet plans worked. Maybe they could fix things. Maybe they needed a good old Bonnet plan.
“And then what, captain? What’s your plan?”
Instead of triumphant or boastful, the captain looked rather sheepish.
“Well, I didn’t really have a plan, per se. More so of an idea, one might say? Winging it, so to speak?”
“We’re winging it?” Oluwande asked, disbelief in his tone but knowing he really should have expected nothing less from Captain Bonnet.
“Yes, we’re going to wing it!” the captain said, a bit more bravado in his tone as he pumped one fist in the air, looking somehow both foolish and inspiring at the same time. “We’re going to get our ship back and we’re going to get our damned people back!”
Oluwande sighed. He really, really was tired.