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The cook betrayed us, she was a witch, she is a threat to us all, she must walk the plank. My crew tied her hands together, now she wouldn’t be able to use her magic against us. I took out my cutlass and pointed it at her. She backed along the plank, fear in her eyes, she was afraid, and I knew why, I was Henrietta Carlton, the most feared pirate of all time.
Standing on the chest of drawers, stood Amelia, my favourite doll, smiling her painted-on smile in her most cook-like clothes, I smiled back at her and put my stick down. I skipped over to my bed, Tony, the golden house mouse, and my only friend was chattering away, he was actually squeaking, but chattering sounds cooler. I knew he was hungry. “Why don’t we visit the kitchens, the cooks must be sound asleep already.”
Through the corridor, down the stairs, and then I stopped, in the dining hall, there were voices. I leaned closer to hear what they were saying, “Miss Henrietta and I will be covering Pirates next in her history lessons.” Miss Hallen’s unmistakable posh-accented voice said quietly. “Very well, will Henrietta have to leave the house for these lessons?” There, that was the question asked in every meeting with my tutor, and I knew why, for some reason my whole family had to follow the same nonsense rule, “Don’t leave the house”.
“Uhhhhh, I already know everything about pirates, their mean and evil. And they make people walk the plank for no reason. I’d probably be learning something much more interesting if they sent me to an actual school with actual friends.. No offense Tony.” I whispered over my shoulder.
At last, after what felt like ten hours of walking, the warm light of the kitchen came to view, “You going in first,” then I add after Tony gives me a questioning look, “because they won’t notice you if they haven’t gone to their bedchambers yet.” Tony squeaked in agreement and scurried into the kitchens, when no shouting or banging of rolling pins could be heard, I went in too.
Smells good and bad, race into my nose as I step into the yellow light of the kitchens. Most of them from dinner. I look around at the tables, where usually I’d find a slice of bread or a half-full bowl of soup, but tonight the tables were spotless, not even a crumb was left on them. “Well Tony, I guess we’ll have to make our own feast tonight.”
All at once, we’re hurrying around the room to find the cooking materials to make a meal. Back to the table, we had only managed to grab two things, only one of which could be useful. I’d found a cookbook that looked millions of years old, and Tony only managed to carry one tablespoon. “I think that we’ll be able to find something in here.” I say, turning the first brown page of the book, Tony gave a squeak of agreement and peered over the thick pages of the old cookbook.
We’d gone over the 500 pages of the old cookbook ten times when we found a recipe that looked delicious, A raspberry crumble. On the corner of the wood coloured page was a scribbled handwriting saying,
My favourite treat, Please Try.
Arcelia Carlton
“Looks like one of my ancestors was a cook.” I turned to Tony, who just stared at me and squeaked.
Away I went to the cupboard where I’d found the book, and took out an equally old-looking frying pan. “Don’t worry,” I say before Tony has a chance to squeak in disgust, “It is perfectly clean.”
Warmth filled the little kitchen as I threw more wood into the stove. The pan sat on top, raspberries sizzling with heat. “Tony, look I’m going to flip the pan!” With no answer from Tony, which I knew he meant no, I flipped the pan. “Ahh!! The pan nearly fell as a tingly feeling crawled up my arm. Guessing it was only the heat, I flipped the pan again, the same tingle crawled its way up my other arm. Still thinking it was just the heat, I did it again.
Suddenly the room was black and it felt as if I was buried in ice. All the sounds I’d heard before were gone, the sizzling of the pan, the occasional squeak from Tony. I was in a nowhere.
The nowhere was cold, but as soon as I was in it I was out.
I heard the sea before I felt it, the loud mixture of seabirds and waves crashing all mixed together in one sound. Then as soon as the chill of the nowhere dissolved into the beaming warmth of the sun, I was plunged straight back into it.
The piercing pain of the ice-cold water parelised me, I was drowning.
Unable to move, I sank down slowly, I knew it was a dream, it had to be. One second I was cooking a delicious dessert in my home kitchens, the next I was sinking to my death. I couldn’t panic, I couldn’t swim, I couldn’t breathe.
The pain was excruciating like ten knives poking into me at once, if the ocean didn’t kill me, then whatever was on my foot would. I opened her mouth to scream, but a huge gulp of water swam in instead. I thrashed around the pain in my foot growing at every small movement I made.
“Tis a big one! A feast Cap’ain” A muffled voice from above the sea shouted as I was pulled upwards, the fleas on my foot ripping. Water rushed past me as the warmth of the air wrapped me up like a blanket. “Er, Cap’ain, that ain’t no fish.” The pain in my foot disappeared as my head slammed straight into the wooden boards of a pirate ship. There were screams and gasps all around me as I stood up, beneath me was a puddle of bright red liquid, Blood, I guessed, yet I'd never seen it before.
“What’s happnin’!” The loud voice was strong and most around her, backed away to make way for the man. When he was finally visible to Henrietta’s eyes, she gasped. He wore long baggy pants, and a long red leather coat. On his belt was a cutlass, Etta tried not to think of what terrible thing that blade could have done.
The man looked me up and down, piercing blue eyes staring straight through my soul. His long dirty hair tied up in a ponytail, coming loose. “What you doin’ on ‘The Dragonsong’?” The man spoke again, voice cold and menacing. I opened my mouth to respond then shut it. I didn’t know what I was doing on ‘The Dragonsong’, or why I was in the middle of the ocean. After six seconds with no response, the man raised his cutlass, “Chuck ‘er!”
A roar of agreement sounded from the other members of the crew, I probably looked like the strangest person to them. It was the middle of the day and I was wearing a nightdress, and they were all wearing old-fashioned sailor clothes.
Then the man who’d fished me from my watery death, picked me up and held me over the side of the ship. With nothing to lose, I spoke, “There was a pan and a cookbook, that I think belonged to Arcelia Carlton, and-and I think it was a portal …” but before she could continue, the man who everyone called Captain ordered the fisher to lower her. “Take her down to the boy! Quickly, before she escapes!”
Two of the crew members grabbed me by the arms, grubby hands squeezing me tightly. I didn’t bother crying for help, no one there would have a kind enough heart.
Below decks the smell of rotting fish made me feel faint. “In!” Before I could think I was tossed into a damp room.
“Hallo.” Staring down at her was a boy, with dark bronze curls as hair, and big round eyes. He smiled at me. He looked so familiar, like I’d seen them before, “Father?” I say
The boy stared at me in confusion, “I’m ten.”
I sat up disappointed, the boy looked so much like Father. “My name's Thomas, and I believe you’re not from this time either.”
Now it’s my turn to stare in confusion, what did he mean, I was in 2001 wasn’t I?
Thomas stared back at me, and almost like he was reading my mind he said, “No, you’re not in - well - you’re not in whatever time you came from. You’re in sometime in the 1600s on a Pirate ship.
I shuffle around on the damp floor. So many thoughts rushing through my head, “Did I time travel?”
Thomas nodded, and I cried. There was no way back, I was stuck on a Pirate ship with a bunch of evil villainous Pirates.
I must’ve cried myself to sleep because the next thing I remembered was Thomas, the boy who looked so much like my Father, was shaking me awake.
At first I thought it was Mother, waking me up after I’d slept in and missed my morning lessons with Miss hallen. Bu, no, when I opened my eyes, I was met with the extremely familiar face of Thomas. I sighed and sat up ready to listen to whatever boring thing he had to say.
He shuffled over to a corner, cleared his throat and spoke, like a politician at a press conference, “Arcelia is going to be thrown overboard, well, walk the plank. And we’re meant to go watch, before we go overboard too.”
I stared at him, thoughts swirling my head, I never knew pirates ever made people walk the plank, this would be interesting to watch. I wonder who Arcelia is? And why does that name sound so familiar? Then a thought came to me, “Arcelia Carlton” I whispered under my breath.
Thomas nodded, “Yup! My Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Grandma.”
“Thomas Carlton?”
I ask, could Thomas be the twin my father always talked about, the one who went missing when he was ten. It would explain the similarities between them..
Thomas nodded. I gasped.
“I’m Etta, well my actual name Henrietta, but my full name is Henrietta Carlton, I’m your niece.”
Now it was Thomas’s turn to gasp.
Ten minutes later, after I’d answered all Thomas’s questions about his twin, Edward, my father, two pirates barged open the door, “You're needed on deck!”
They came into the cabin and gripped both our arms and dragged us up the stairs and into the warm sea air on deck.
The scene was like one I’d never seen before. All the crew, 14 pirates, were gathered around the captain. The woman who I thought was Arcelia was crying like no pirate I’ve ever heard of. That’s when the two pirates who had brought us to the deck let go, red marks were left on our arms.
Then the pirate tradition began. The captain stood on a crate, his cutlass pointed at Arcelia, “She betrayed us, she’s a witch, she must walk the plank!!!” The crew roared in agreement. “Tied her hands, so she can’t do her magic!” ordered the captain, and then five of the crew ran to get rope.
Once Arcelia’s hands were tied, the captain pushed her along the plank, cutlass pointed at her heart. She backed along the plank, fear replacing the tears in her eyes, she was afraid I had to do something.
“STOP!!!!!” I cried, everyone turned. All their grim yellow-toothed smiles are fading. “What are you doing?” Thomas hissed from the crate he was sitting on. “Trust me.” I replied, then turned to the pirates in front of me.
“Arcelia Carlton isn’t a witch!” the pirates gasped at my words, “Arcelia had nothing to do with her frying pan send me and Thomas back in time! Arcelia didn’t know that 400 years after this day, her descendants would find her frying pan and cook her favourite meal. She is not a witch!” That’s when I fainted.
I woke to the warm sweat smell of Arcelia’s favourite meal, and Tony’s panicked squeaking, I was home, in my kitchen, back to the boring life I’d lived before.
I trodded up to my bedroom, I had just had the most fun in my life, and now it was gone.
“Etta, darling, it’s time for school.”
School?
“Since when did I go to school?” I ask sitting up to face Mother. “Since you were five, come on, you’re going to be late, Celia’s waiting.”
“Who’s Celia?”
“Your cousin, now come one, get ready.” Mother left the room, leaving me to myself. I had changed history, I had a cousin, I went to school.
I jumped out of bed and hopped into my school uniform. It was beautiful.
I wondered downstairs, where a girl about my age was laughing as a man, identical to Father, bounced her up and down on his knee. I squealed, “Uncle?’
The man nodded and smiled at me. He dropped the girl and she laughed like a monkey. “You two okay to go to school today.”
Me and the girl nodded, and left the house. As we reached the gate, Father jumped out of a bush and kissed me and the girl on the forehead. “Etta, try to do well on the test today and Celia,” He turned to the girl, “Try to act normal today, we’ve had many complaints.” Then he opened the gate, and I was free.
TWENTY YEARS LATER …
I stepped to the stage to receive my 7th award this month, and I knew why, I was Henrietta Carlton, the greatest pirate historian of all time
Standing on the chest of drawers, stood Amelia, my favourite doll, smiling her painted-on smile in her most cook-like clothes, I smiled back at her and put my stick down. I skipped over to my bed, Tony, the golden house mouse, and my only friend was chattering away, he was actually squeaking, but chattering sounds cooler. I knew he was hungry. “Why don’t we visit the kitchens, the cooks must be sound asleep already.”
Through the corridor, down the stairs, and then I stopped, in the dining hall, there were voices. I leaned closer to hear what they were saying, “Miss Henrietta and I will be covering Pirates next in her history lessons.” Miss Hallen’s unmistakable posh-accented voice said quietly. “Very well, will Henrietta have to leave the house for these lessons?” There, that was the question asked in every meeting with my tutor, and I knew why, for some reason my whole family had to follow the same nonsense rule, “Don’t leave the house”.
“Uhhhhh, I already know everything about pirates, their mean and evil. And they make people walk the plank for no reason. I’d probably be learning something much more interesting if they sent me to an actual school with actual friends.. No offense Tony.” I whispered over my shoulder.
At last, after what felt like ten hours of walking, the warm light of the kitchen came to view, “You going in first,” then I add after Tony gives me a questioning look, “because they won’t notice you if they haven’t gone to their bedchambers yet.” Tony squeaked in agreement and scurried into the kitchens, when no shouting or banging of rolling pins could be heard, I went in too.
Smells good and bad, race into my nose as I step into the yellow light of the kitchens. Most of them from dinner. I look around at the tables, where usually I’d find a slice of bread or a half-full bowl of soup, but tonight the tables were spotless, not even a crumb was left on them. “Well Tony, I guess we’ll have to make our own feast tonight.”
All at once, we’re hurrying around the room to find the cooking materials to make a meal. Back to the table, we had only managed to grab two things, only one of which could be useful. I’d found a cookbook that looked millions of years old, and Tony only managed to carry one tablespoon. “I think that we’ll be able to find something in here.” I say, turning the first brown page of the book, Tony gave a squeak of agreement and peered over the thick pages of the old cookbook.
We’d gone over the 500 pages of the old cookbook ten times when we found a recipe that looked delicious, A raspberry crumble. On the corner of the wood coloured page was a scribbled handwriting saying,
My favourite treat, Please Try.
Arcelia Carlton
“Looks like one of my ancestors was a cook.” I turned to Tony, who just stared at me and squeaked.
Away I went to the cupboard where I’d found the book, and took out an equally old-looking frying pan. “Don’t worry,” I say before Tony has a chance to squeak in disgust, “It is perfectly clean.”
Warmth filled the little kitchen as I threw more wood into the stove. The pan sat on top, raspberries sizzling with heat. “Tony, look I’m going to flip the pan!” With no answer from Tony, which I knew he meant no, I flipped the pan. “Ahh!! The pan nearly fell as a tingly feeling crawled up my arm. Guessing it was only the heat, I flipped the pan again, the same tingle crawled its way up my other arm. Still thinking it was just the heat, I did it again.
Suddenly the room was black and it felt as if I was buried in ice. All the sounds I’d heard before were gone, the sizzling of the pan, the occasional squeak from Tony. I was in a nowhere.
The nowhere was cold, but as soon as I was in it I was out.
I heard the sea before I felt it, the loud mixture of seabirds and waves crashing all mixed together in one sound. Then as soon as the chill of the nowhere dissolved into the beaming warmth of the sun, I was plunged straight back into it.
The piercing pain of the ice-cold water parelised me, I was drowning.
Unable to move, I sank down slowly, I knew it was a dream, it had to be. One second I was cooking a delicious dessert in my home kitchens, the next I was sinking to my death. I couldn’t panic, I couldn’t swim, I couldn’t breathe.
The pain was excruciating like ten knives poking into me at once, if the ocean didn’t kill me, then whatever was on my foot would. I opened her mouth to scream, but a huge gulp of water swam in instead. I thrashed around the pain in my foot growing at every small movement I made.
“Tis a big one! A feast Cap’ain” A muffled voice from above the sea shouted as I was pulled upwards, the fleas on my foot ripping. Water rushed past me as the warmth of the air wrapped me up like a blanket. “Er, Cap’ain, that ain’t no fish.” The pain in my foot disappeared as my head slammed straight into the wooden boards of a pirate ship. There were screams and gasps all around me as I stood up, beneath me was a puddle of bright red liquid, Blood, I guessed, yet I'd never seen it before.
“What’s happnin’!” The loud voice was strong and most around her, backed away to make way for the man. When he was finally visible to Henrietta’s eyes, she gasped. He wore long baggy pants, and a long red leather coat. On his belt was a cutlass, Etta tried not to think of what terrible thing that blade could have done.
The man looked me up and down, piercing blue eyes staring straight through my soul. His long dirty hair tied up in a ponytail, coming loose. “What you doin’ on ‘The Dragonsong’?” The man spoke again, voice cold and menacing. I opened my mouth to respond then shut it. I didn’t know what I was doing on ‘The Dragonsong’, or why I was in the middle of the ocean. After six seconds with no response, the man raised his cutlass, “Chuck ‘er!”
A roar of agreement sounded from the other members of the crew, I probably looked like the strangest person to them. It was the middle of the day and I was wearing a nightdress, and they were all wearing old-fashioned sailor clothes.
Then the man who’d fished me from my watery death, picked me up and held me over the side of the ship. With nothing to lose, I spoke, “There was a pan and a cookbook, that I think belonged to Arcelia Carlton, and-and I think it was a portal …” but before she could continue, the man who everyone called Captain ordered the fisher to lower her. “Take her down to the boy! Quickly, before she escapes!”
Two of the crew members grabbed me by the arms, grubby hands squeezing me tightly. I didn’t bother crying for help, no one there would have a kind enough heart.
Below decks the smell of rotting fish made me feel faint. “In!” Before I could think I was tossed into a damp room.
“Hallo.” Staring down at her was a boy, with dark bronze curls as hair, and big round eyes. He smiled at me. He looked so familiar, like I’d seen them before, “Father?” I say
The boy stared at me in confusion, “I’m ten.”
I sat up disappointed, the boy looked so much like Father. “My name's Thomas, and I believe you’re not from this time either.”
Now it’s my turn to stare in confusion, what did he mean, I was in 2001 wasn’t I?
Thomas stared back at me, and almost like he was reading my mind he said, “No, you’re not in - well - you’re not in whatever time you came from. You’re in sometime in the 1600s on a Pirate ship.
I shuffle around on the damp floor. So many thoughts rushing through my head, “Did I time travel?”
Thomas nodded, and I cried. There was no way back, I was stuck on a Pirate ship with a bunch of evil villainous Pirates.
I must’ve cried myself to sleep because the next thing I remembered was Thomas, the boy who looked so much like my Father, was shaking me awake.
At first I thought it was Mother, waking me up after I’d slept in and missed my morning lessons with Miss hallen. Bu, no, when I opened my eyes, I was met with the extremely familiar face of Thomas. I sighed and sat up ready to listen to whatever boring thing he had to say.
He shuffled over to a corner, cleared his throat and spoke, like a politician at a press conference, “Arcelia is going to be thrown overboard, well, walk the plank. And we’re meant to go watch, before we go overboard too.”
I stared at him, thoughts swirling my head, I never knew pirates ever made people walk the plank, this would be interesting to watch. I wonder who Arcelia is? And why does that name sound so familiar? Then a thought came to me, “Arcelia Carlton” I whispered under my breath.
Thomas nodded, “Yup! My Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Grandma.”
“Thomas Carlton?”
I ask, could Thomas be the twin my father always talked about, the one who went missing when he was ten. It would explain the similarities between them..
Thomas nodded. I gasped.
“I’m Etta, well my actual name Henrietta, but my full name is Henrietta Carlton, I’m your niece.”
Now it was Thomas’s turn to gasp.
Ten minutes later, after I’d answered all Thomas’s questions about his twin, Edward, my father, two pirates barged open the door, “You're needed on deck!”
They came into the cabin and gripped both our arms and dragged us up the stairs and into the warm sea air on deck.
The scene was like one I’d never seen before. All the crew, 14 pirates, were gathered around the captain. The woman who I thought was Arcelia was crying like no pirate I’ve ever heard of. That’s when the two pirates who had brought us to the deck let go, red marks were left on our arms.
Then the pirate tradition began. The captain stood on a crate, his cutlass pointed at Arcelia, “She betrayed us, she’s a witch, she must walk the plank!!!” The crew roared in agreement. “Tied her hands, so she can’t do her magic!” ordered the captain, and then five of the crew ran to get rope.
Once Arcelia’s hands were tied, the captain pushed her along the plank, cutlass pointed at her heart. She backed along the plank, fear replacing the tears in her eyes, she was afraid I had to do something.
“STOP!!!!!” I cried, everyone turned. All their grim yellow-toothed smiles are fading. “What are you doing?” Thomas hissed from the crate he was sitting on. “Trust me.” I replied, then turned to the pirates in front of me.
“Arcelia Carlton isn’t a witch!” the pirates gasped at my words, “Arcelia had nothing to do with her frying pan send me and Thomas back in time! Arcelia didn’t know that 400 years after this day, her descendants would find her frying pan and cook her favourite meal. She is not a witch!” That’s when I fainted.
I woke to the warm sweat smell of Arcelia’s favourite meal, and Tony’s panicked squeaking, I was home, in my kitchen, back to the boring life I’d lived before.
I trodded up to my bedroom, I had just had the most fun in my life, and now it was gone.
“Etta, darling, it’s time for school.”
School?
“Since when did I go to school?” I ask sitting up to face Mother. “Since you were five, come on, you’re going to be late, Celia’s waiting.”
“Who’s Celia?”
“Your cousin, now come one, get ready.” Mother left the room, leaving me to myself. I had changed history, I had a cousin, I went to school.
I jumped out of bed and hopped into my school uniform. It was beautiful.
I wondered downstairs, where a girl about my age was laughing as a man, identical to Father, bounced her up and down on his knee. I squealed, “Uncle?’
The man nodded and smiled at me. He dropped the girl and she laughed like a monkey. “You two okay to go to school today.”
Me and the girl nodded, and left the house. As we reached the gate, Father jumped out of a bush and kissed me and the girl on the forehead. “Etta, try to do well on the test today and Celia,” He turned to the girl, “Try to act normal today, we’ve had many complaints.” Then he opened the gate, and I was free.
TWENTY YEARS LATER …
I stepped to the stage to receive my 7th award this month, and I knew why, I was Henrietta Carlton, the greatest pirate historian of all time