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Captain Fin Page 2
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“Ahoy there, ya Son of a Biscuit Eater.”
“What’s a Biscuit Eater?” Hannah asked inquisitively. “Sounds awful!”
Hank laughed. “Nothing for ye to worry about, me Hearty!”
“But what is it?”
“Matey, I already told ye, it’s nothing for ye to worry about.”
Hannah pushed her long blond hair out of her face and stared right into the Captain’s eyes. She wasn’t satisfied with that answer. Matey or not, she needed a real one.
“Captain,” she said firmly, fixated on his face, gruff scowl and all. “That isn’t a real answer now, is it?”
“How would you know if you don’t know what it is?” her daddy responded, trying as hard as he could to end this line of questioning.
“Does the Son of a Biscuit Eater eat real biscuits?” Hannah asked.
Knees tucked under her nightgown, intensity written all over her face, she waited for an answer to her question or a real explanation. Hank, desperately wanting to laugh at his beautiful girl looking so serious over something so ridiculous, wanted to turn ship and bail, but he didn’t dare. This pirate stuff was serious business! Glancing at his watch, he knew he didn’t have much time, and she loved this pirate game. He had to abandon this line of questioning. Suddenly Hank stood up and jumped on top of the bed, startling her as he waved an imaginary sword in the air and spelled out her name. H A N N A H!
“Did you see that?” he asked.
“I most certainly did!” she responded, not quite sure what he was up to now. “Especially since you said each letter out loud as you spelled them.”
“I did do that, didn’t I?” Hank chuckled.
As quickly as he’d jumped on the bed, he bounced off the mattress and landed on the floor and pretended to splash around in a make-believe ocean. Unexpectedly, he gagged on saltwater and had to pull himself back to the side of the bed-turned-ship, spluttering the entire time as he did. Ruffling her, the deckhand’s hair, he leaned up and kissed her on the top of her head, before quickly apologizing for doing such a thing.
“Sorry about that; grateful to be alive, almost drowned. What was the question again?”
In between her laughter, Hannah managed to spit out the question and this time Hank had no choice but to whip up an answer that would actually satisfy his inquisitive little girl.
“Matey, I can’t get anything by ya, can I?”
Hannah shook her head and waited patiently for his explanation. He didn’t disappoint and in his gruffest pirate voice, the Captain tried his best to explain.
“A Son of a Biscuit Eater isn’t really very nice. In fact, that there is pirate talk that you’re not old enough to use, and therefore I shouldn’t have even said it in your presence. How about that?”
Hannah shook her head. “But what is it?”
“It’s just not very nice; it’s an insult, not really anything, but something you shouldn’t ever repeat.”
Pulling out an imaginary telescope, he scanned the vast horizon of Hannah’s bedroom. Hannah copied him and looked through her imaginary telescope as well. The two of them scanned the ocean, her bedroom, for a few seconds and when Hank put his telescope down, Hannah followed suit. To reiterate how important it was for Hannah never to repeat that insult, Hank, instead of the Captain, took the opportunity to casually remind her never to use that term.
“So, just to be on the safe side, never say it in front of that one out there unless you want to get into trouble.” He pointed to her bedroom door. “You know who I mean?”
Hannah knew exactly who he meant: Gloria, her momma. As soon as he realized she understood whom he was referring too, Hank brought back the Captain’s pirate voice.
“Do not, I repeat, do not tell that scallywag out there that I even mentioned those words!”
Hannah giggled and giggled, trying to contain her laughter she pointed at the door. “I’m going to tell her.”
“What?!” bellowed the Captain as he tickled her tummy.
“Momma,” Hannah laughed. “Momma is a Son of a Biscuit Eater.”
“I will demote ya, Matey, and throw ya off this here ship if you repeat those words again!”
“Momma is a Son of a—.” It was impossible to finish the sentence; she was laughing so hard.
“Ya can’t say that about that scallywag out yonder! She won’t cook for ya anymore, wash your clothes, make your bed, take ya to school.”
Hannah’s face was bright red, hair soaked with sweat, and when she could laugh no more, Hank scooped her up and tossed her in the air. He had no choice; it was time for him to go. Kissing her on the cheek, the Captain left, and her daddy tucked her in bed. Hank stood outside her door for a few moments and listened to Hannah as she talked to herself for a while as she lay in bed. Gloria walked up behind him and slid her arm around his waist. Kissing him on the back of his neck, they stood and continued to listen to their little girl as she recreated their adventure nearly word for word from that evening.
“That momma’s a scallywag and a Son of Biscuit Eater!” Hannah laughed out loud at herself before repeating it again. “Momma’s a scallywag and a Son of a Biscuit Eater.”
Her sweet giggles caused Hank and Gloria to try and contain their own laughter as they listened to their daughter laughing to herself. Moments captured like these were rare and nothing short of magical. Hannah would one day describe the Captain’s stories and their magical effect on her as a child. Those stories, turned into games, would become a safe haven buried in her mind, comfort and peace for her soul when she thought she was losing a part of herself.
Chapter 3
Celebration
I See You, Captain, Watching Me
Pretending to Sail the Mighty Sea
A Pirate’s Life Is Fun, You Say
Let’s Play Until We Sail Away
~ Hannah Gunner ~
Hank struggled to contain his excitement. Nathan, his best friend, and his wife Sandra, whom they all called Sandy, were expecting their first baby. It seemed as if they’d been trying unsuccessfully for years and now they were finally having a boy! Forget friends; they were more like brothers, and Hank was determined to make sure they celebrated like family should. The Gunners would throw Nathan and Sandy a party to celebrate their fantastic news.
“No more talk of work, union meetings, or anything that’s not related to your new boy.” Hank flagged down the bartender. “One more round for me and my brother; we’re planning a party!”
Nathan grinned and thanked Hank for the beer. He didn’t dare look at his watch; if he had, he might have left, knowing Sandy was expecting him already.
“Gotta be kid friendly, though,” Hank insisted. “Hannah would be heartbroken if she couldn’t come.”
Nathan didn’t need to be told that, and Hank didn’t need to make such a request. Nathan knew Sandy wouldn’t want to celebrate unless they were all together, Hannah included. A celebration right now, with all the stress surrounding the docks, was just the distraction that everyone needed.
“Big freighter coming in this week. Did you see the docket?” Nathan asked before downing a big gulp of beer.
Hank took a sip of his and nodded. “Yeah, I did. But remember, the ILWU has called for a coordinated port shutdown. It’s gonna affect more than that freighter coming in; they’ll be backed up for sure! Gotta love it, gotta hate it.”
Nathan, worried, ordered another round. “Two more when you get a chance, please.”
“Hannah’s been asking to come down and see the ships come in and all.” Hank nudged his buddy. “And to see you! But I just can’t bring her down to the docks right now; it’s too unstable, the tension, the men are short with each other and at each other’s throats. I can feel the division between them. Can you?”
Nathan nodded. “Yeah, I can, and it makes me nervous.”
Patting Nathan on the back, Hank scolded himself. “Enough of that! Let’s plan your party.”
“I can’t; Sandy’s texting.” Nathan
threw a twenty on the bar and stood up to leave. “Man, she’s hormonal right now.” Shaking his head, he downed the last of his pint and stuck out his hand.
Hank shook his friend’s hand, but before he let go, he pulled Nathan toward him and gave him a big ol’ bear hug.
“Congratulations again, man. I’m truly happy for you, for you both.”
“Thanks, Hank, I know you are and I appreciate it, but laaaaawd give me strength.” Chuckling, he slapped Hank on the back. “I hope I make it through Sandy’s up and down nonsense!”
Hannah pushed her mom’s step stool over to the back door, stood on top of it, and pressed her nose against the cold square glass panels. It was dark, and her dad should have been home by now. Anxiously eyeing people who walked past their house, ruling them out one by one, she waited for Hank to return. It was as if she hadn’t just seen him that morning. Her mom tried to help calm her down.
“Hannah, sit down. You’ll wear yourself out!” Gloria suggested, knowing it wouldn’t help.
“Why isn’t he here yet?” Hannah quizzed her mom. “He should’ve been home by now.”
Gloria tapped the tip of Hannah’s nose, squatted down in front of her, and looked her in the eye. “You know he’ll be here as soon as he can. He has to work. It’s what daddies do; go to work, remember?”
Hannah jumped off the stool and grabbed a piece of bread and butter that Gloria had placed on the table for supper. Frustrated, she blew her long bangs out of her face. How come her momma didn’t remember the simplest details?
“But it’s not what pirates do! Pirates don’t go to work; they plunder goods and treasure. Don’t you remember?”
“Well, you got me there!” Gloria rolled her eyes and stood up. “But according to your dad, being a pirate requires hard work, as well.”
“Yep, Momma, it does. But it’s a different kind of work, and scallywags don’t understand pirate stuff!”
“Excuse me!”
Gloria swatted Hannah on the rear as she ran past her, hopped back on her step stool again, and waited at the back door.
“Girl! Scallywag? Please. I’ll be talking to your daddy about that, mark my words!”
Well, the Captain would take care of that, but Hannah thought it best she kept that to herself. The aroma of lasagna filled the kitchen, and Hannah was getting anxious and hungry. Gloria poured herself a glass of wine, and Hannah a glass of milk. They sat down at the table, but Hannah kept staring at the door. Finally, he walked through it.
“Wash your hands, and don’t say a word except ‘hello family.’” Gloria grinned, pleased he was home.
Hannah jumped up from the table and leaped into his arms. Throwing her over his shoulders while he washed his hands, she dangled over his back and asked him a million and one questions about where he’d been. Finally, she quit talking when he mentioned the word “party.”
“We’re going to a party?” Hannah asked.
“No. I’m going to ask Mommy if we can host a party.”
Gloria’s ears perked up as she served the lasagna. She had a feeling it must be for Sandy and the new baby, and yes, Hank could count on her! Giddy, Hannah started to think about the cake, party favors, and balloons.
“Is it a party for me?” Hannah asked as she prodded the lasagna on her plate.
Hank took a bite of his lasagna. “Mmmmm… this is good! And no, Hannah, it’s not your party. It’s a party for Nathan’s and Sandy’s new baby.” Beaming, he raised his wine glass. “A toast. It’s a boy!”
“Oh, that’s wonderful, Hank!” Gloria squealed. “When did they find out?”
“Today.”
Hannah didn’t get it, but she didn’t care. They were going to throw a party, and that meant cake. For now, all she wanted to do was to get through dinner, take her mandatory bath, and finally, go to bed and read. Reading meant a new adventure with the Captain. Fidgeting at the table, Hannah was finally excused and sent to get ready for her usual evening routine. Grinning, she pointed to her daddy.
“See you shortly, Captain Fin.”
Refilling their wine glasses, Hank took a sip of the bold red and smiled. Pointing his finger at Gloria, getting ready to speak, he laughed out loud and took another sip of wine.
“What is it?” she laughed. “You’re making me laugh; just say it.”
“Hannah!” Hank grinned. “Captain Fin—sooooo funny!”
Chapter 4
Captain Fin
“Treasure is where you find it.
But, Hannah, the most important treasure is you.”
~ Hank Gunner ~
Most kids loved to play in the bath, but Hannah couldn’t wait to jump out of the tub and put on her pajamas. Gloria no longer disputed or felt envious of Hannah’s demands that her daddy put her to bed instead of her. The ritual of tucking her in, reading her a bedtime story, and placing a kiss on her daughter’s forehead had now been replaced with the joy that her daughter’s laughter from the other side of her bedroom door brought her. Hank’s way of making the bedtime stories come alive was a treat even for her, and couldn’t be replaced, duplicated, or reinvented.
“Is it time?” Hannah asked eagerly. “To go to bed?”
“Good grief, girl! Who asks to go to bed every single night?” Gloria poked Hank playfully in the ribs. “I blame you for this nonsense!”
“I’m tired,” Hannah whined. “You should be glad I want to go to bed.”
“I am; let’s go. I’ll take you to bed tonight. Pick a book,” Gloria teased.
“C’mon, Momma. You know it doesn’t work like that!” Hannah rolled her eyes and swatted her wet hair out of her face. “Captain always puts me to bed.”
Hannah turned to her daddy. “Well, aren’t you coming?”
Hank topped off Gloria’s wine, kissed her cheek, picked up Hannah, and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Gloria sipped her wine for a few minutes before placing a chair in the hallway just outside Hannah’s bedroom door. Hannah, as usual, had no patience for listening to Hank read a chapter of their favorite book first. Fidgeting, she tried to speed up the game.
“Where’s the Captain?”
“Captain who?” Hank inquired.
“Captain Fin, silly,” she giggled.
Hank chuckled and muttered under his breath, “Captain Fin, now that’s funny!” A gruff voice indicated that Captain Fin must have finally arrived. Gloria closed her eyes, sat back, and took it all in.
“Can ye smell the wonderful sea air, Matey?”
Hannah took a deep breath through her nose and nodded. “Yes, sir. I can smell the salty sea air, and it’s fishy, too.” She laughed. “I added the fishy part myself because fish live in the sea.”
Hank winked at his bright-eyed little girl. “You’re a clever little lass, aren’t ya!”
Jumping off the bed, Hank knelt down on the floor and ran his hands through the carpet as if searching for something. He motioned for Hannah to join him. Beaming, Hannah realized this was where they were about to search for lost treasure in the sand, one of her favorite parts of the game. Eyes lit up and sparkling, she leaped off the bed, crouched next to him and, copying his example, ran her little hands in makeshift circles as if she were scooping handfuls of sand into buckets. Hank nudged Hannah, and together they watched the imaginary sand sift through his fingers. Watching his little girl, her blue eyes focused on each imaginary grain of sand that slipped through his fingers with such intensity, both impressed Hank and astounded him. She was so incredibly focused on the imaginary sand that if one did not know better, they might actually believe this little girl thought her bedroom floor truly was a beach and that she was sitting in the middle of a real sand pile. A child’s imagination, his child’s, was the most beautiful thing that he had the privilege to observe and be part of on a daily basis. His gift: his precious family!
“What’s wrong, Daddy?” Her voice startled him. “I mean, Captain.”
Snapping out of his thoughts, he pulled out an imaginary t
elescope and took a visual around the bedroom-turned-island, and in an elevated Captain voice belted out firm orders to his First Matey, Hannah.
“We need to board the ship right now or we’re going to be shark bait!”
“To the ship!” Hannah repeated. “What, now?”
“Questioning the Captain? Yes, now.”
Folding her arms across her pajamas, sticking out her pouty lips, fearing the game was over, Hannah planted herself crisscross-applesauce firmly on the floor. “We haven’t even found the treasure yet!”
Stepping off the bed, Hank sat down in front of his defiant little pirate. “Have you forgotten the unspoken pirate rule?” Hank whispered. “Have you?”
Hannah hung her head as if she’d done something wrong. “I think I must’ve, but I didn’t mean to.”
“Pirate rule, unspoken of course, is that treasure is always where you find it!” He tapped the tip of her button nose and lifted her head up by her chin to look at him. “But you, my precious little pirate, you, Hannah, are by far the most important treasure of all!” Hank kissed the top of her sweaty head and pushed a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “So you see, I’ve found my treasure and you can still find yours; it can be anything you want it to be, and if you look hard enough, it can be found anywhere.”
“Well, I like lots of things, but my bestest treasure ever is my magical shell!”
“That is a magical treasure! Best to always keep that safe!” Hank picked her up and tossed her onto the bed. “Okay, one more thing before bed and it’s a doozie!”