Tales of a Peculiar Pirate

11. A Hostage Situation

The sun was high in the sky, the sea was serene, and Polly had become one with the rock. For what reason could the lax lass have decided to stick herself to a large, gray, inanimate object? Well, Polly quite enjoyed her title Polly the Pirate, and was in no hurry to have it changed to Polly the Prune.

It was only natural for her to hightail it out of the water as soon as she noticed she was wrinkling up like a grape about to spoil. The rock, now that the kiwis were no longer hogging up space, was just large enough for Polly to make like a Victorian lady and drape herself across it as if she was feeling faint from wearing an overly tight corset.

Of course, Polly could have returned to The Birbalinda to hide from the unforgiving glare of the sun, but she needed a change of scenery. Though she loved the boat, Polly was a staunch believer of the saying 'distance makes the heart grow fonder'. And that is how the traveler ended up plastered like a large piece of fabric to a slowly heating up stone, hoping that the sun would have mercy on her and not give her any weird tan lines.

Polly held the fishing pole loosely, but the minute she felt a tug, her grip tightened. The pull was a small one, but it was significant enough to jolt Polly out of her daydreaming, today's daydream being about how nice it would feel to be a pancake being flipped. It was something she actually thought about quite often. Polly was rather fond of the idea of being floppy and circular and getting tossed sky-high, only to smack back down onto a warm, flat surface.

Just as soon as the tug came, it was gone. Then it returned a hundred times stronger.

"No," thought Polly, realizing just how strong the pull really was. "It's over 9000."

Polly was yanked from her perch in an instant and found herself up in the air, arcing towards wherever Evangeline was summoning her from.

She had always wanted to try flying, but not as a poorly designed kite. To make matters worse, the poor gal was alone. Fethar was sunbathing on the rock, and the kiwis had all but become aquatic creatures. It had been awhile since she had last traveled solo, and she hadn't missed it a bit.

"When I was young, I never needed anyone," sang Polly mournfully. She forced a tear out of an eye for the drama, though she wasn't really all that sad because she was sure she'd be reuniting with her buddies sooner or later. It was just that her one meeting with Captain Trixx had ingrained the absolute must for pizzaz in even the most mundane of activities within her.

"Don't wanna be all by myself...anymore." Polly sang as though she were a graying widow whose friends had all passed on, leaving her alone in a cold and empty house with webs on its walls and dust on its floors. The dreary scene she projected couldn't have been more at odds with the day's lovely weather.

Polly was about to start a rendition of 'Mr. Lonely' that she was positive would bring tears to even the most frozen of stone cold hearts, but before she could begin belting away, it was time to land. The not-an-aircraft flexed her muscles to the max to ensure she landed on the water, not in it, as she didn't have the patience to toast on a rock again to become dry and crispy.

Before her was Evangeline and who Polly could only assume to be the wretched cult leader from Evangeline's tale. Polly sat herself down on the water so she could get a better look at the two without having to bend down.

To her surprise, the yellow and gold specimen was not in any sort of bindings as one would expect a captive to be. Were they not a captive? But before she asked that, there was something else on her mind.

"Evangeline my good sir, I would just like to know...how?" The pirate had no problem believing she had been yanked more than a few miles through the sky, but she struggled believing that it was a creature smaller than her hand that didn't even have hands that pulled off that herculean feat.