by Samir Asran Rahman

Longitude: Unknown.
   Latitude: Unknown.
   Somewhere in the center of the Sapphire Sea, a mugging of massive magnitude was taking place. The pirate ship, The Prawn Treader, loomed hungrily over a hapless galleon, and hailed it in a cacophony of canon-fire that shook the entire seascape. Grappling hooks flew from it, like giant iron spiders, and dragged the prey, creaking in protest, towards it.
   On the deck of The Prawn Treader stood a diminutive but determined young boy who wore a pirate hat a few sizes too big for himself. What he lacked in stature he made up for with a voice amplified with a megaphone. ‘ATTACK THOSE SCURVY-RIDDEN TROLODYTES, ME HEARTIES!!!’ he cried to his crew of swarthy ghost pirates, who swarmed aboard the galleon, known as The Pier- to-Pier, waving their weapons and uttering pirate profanities.
   A purple parrot flew down from atop the Skull and Cross Bones flag that flapped in the wind like a murder of crows. It landed gently on the boy’s shoulder, and said (in a voice that betrayed the Genie’s shape shifting abilities), ‘Zak! When I said you should come up with a fun way to make your fortune, looting and pillaging wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.’
   ‘What are you? My conscience? I thought you told me to let free reign to my imagination.’
   ‘Hey,’ said Genie-Parrot. ‘If this is what floats your boat, that’s fine. But don’t you want to grab your weapon and join the fray?’
   ‘Listen, buddy,’ said Zak with all the patience he could muster. ‘I’m in this for the treasure, okay? I have no intention of waving a sword and getting blood under my fingernails. Why do you think I wanted a crew of ghost pirates anyway? They’ve got things covered.’
   He was right. The fight was over before it had time to begin. The galleon was holed below the waterline and it began to flounder in the rolling waters like a rocking horse. Its’ masts drooped dismally in defeat and the crew, realizing that it was pointless to stab at beings that had the consistency of thin air, threw down their weapons and scrambled onto lifeboats to make good their escape. Their captain, on the other hand, refused to part ways with his precious cargo. He threw himself over a treasure chest that was being hauled away by a pirate; managed to do nothing to slow its momentum; and was inadvertently dragged aboard The Prawn Treader, while his own ship sank beneath the waves.
   Zak rubbed his hands gleefully as heavy looking chests, with ornate designs, were laid down at his feet. ‘Open them and shower me head to foot with booty,’ he commanded grandly. His crew did as they were told. ‘Ow! Ow! Ow!’ Heavy books tumbled out of the chests onto his head. Genie squawked and flew off his shoulder to avoid the ponderous tomes.
   ‘Enough!’ said Zak, breaking free of the tiny avalanche of pages. ‘It’s my sister who’s usually buried in books, not me! You deadbeats have bought the wrong chests!’ He unruffled his clothes and personally inspected the rest of the cargo to prevent any more rude surprises. What he found did nothing to improve his mood. Fists clenched, eyes steely, he asked that the captain of The Pier-to-Pier be bought before him.
   Captain Napstor stammered and protested as he was hoisted by his shoulders and bought before Zak. He was greatly startled when he saw how young the pirate captain was. Surely there was some mistake? Could this little tyke be the leader of this army of ghouls?
   ‘Aren’t you a little short to be a pirate?’ The words were out of his mouth before he could take them back.
   Zak’s eyebrows furrowed menacingly. ‘How about I cut you down to your knees?’ he threatened. ‘We’ll see who makes short comments then.’
   ‘He’d still be taller than you Zak,’ whispered Genie. ‘By a good two feet, three inches, I’d say.’
   ‘Fine,’ Zak waved his hand like this was inconsequential. ‘We’ll slice him at the waist then.’
   ‘No! No!’ cried Napstor in alarm as a surly pirate came forward polishing a cruel looking scimitar. ‘I didn’t mean to be insulting. I’ll cooperate. What is it you wish to know?’
   ‘That’s better,’ said Zak, sitting down on a stool that a lackey placed behind him. ‘We attacked you because we heard there was a voluminous treasure aboard your ship, but we’ve been through your cargo and all we’ve found are volumes of books and a cage full of cockatoos.’
   ‘But that’s our cargo,’ insisted Napstor. ‘A veritable treasure trove of books! Literature more precious than gold ingots and ostentatious jewels!’
   ‘I think I misunderstood you,’ said Zak, in a tone that was as cold and dangerous as a half submerged iceberg. ‘I could swear that you just told me that these books are, in fact, your bullion.’
   ‘We have traveled nigh and far, visiting different continents, and collecting the works of great authors. My crew was composed of calligraphers and they copied entire titles, painstakingly in their own hand, onto reams of paper that were bound cheaply enough to be afforded by the general public. We have been amassing this wealth for a long time. Don’t part me from my cargo, I beseech you.’
   ‘Your cargo is no good to me,’ Zak spat bitterly.
   Captain Napstor looked half-injured, half-relieved. ‘These books,’ he said righteously, ‘Contain literature that must be spread across the world for the enjoyment of the reading public. Art should not be withheld due to geographical limitations and less disposable income.’
   Zak got up and paced the deck furiously. This could not be happening, he thought. There had to be something more worthwhile at stake. Napstor was obviously trying to pull the wool over his eyes. He looked at the tall piles of books and then turned to the cage of cockatoos. Maybe the book-nut was smuggling ostentatious jewels in them? Should he cut one open and find out? He pointed his cutlass at the birds and tapped the cage with it smartly.
   There was an explosion of feathers and words:
   ‘It was a dark and stormy night.’
   ‘Ten Thousand Thundering Typhoons!’
   ‘Look behind you — a three headed monkey!’
   ‘All your base are belong to us.’
   ‘Clamp your beaks!’ Shouted Zak. The birds squawked in panic and hid their heads in their bosoms.
   ‘They’re reciting lines from novels’ said Napstor, a hint of pride in his voice. ‘I have labored long hours making them memorize entire books. My reasoning is that people will not even need to read in the future! They can listen to their favorite book on cockatoo. I just have to figure out a way to extend their shelf life, seeing as they only have a life-span of a few years.’
   Zak saw the man in a new light now. He was clearly a certifiable madman. ‘That’s it!’ He snapped his fingers and poor Captain Napstor was hoisted up by his shoulders again. ‘We’re not going to find any treasure here. Throw this man to the sharks!’
   ‘I don’t think there are any sharks in these waters, Zak’ said Genie.
   ‘Well there should be,’ grumbled Zak. ‘Merely dumping him overboard is too good a fate for him.’
   ‘Why don’t we dump him on that tiny island over yonder,’ said Genie, scanning the horizon with a pair of binoculars. ‘It could be inhabited by cannibals.’
   ‘Cannibals? Really?’ said Zak snatching the binoculars and peering at the island. ‘I can feel my good cheer coming back.’
   One of the cockatoos turned its head towards him. ‘The quality of mercy is not strained,’ it said. ‘It droppeth like the gentle rain from heaven.’
   ‘Yes, and the devil may cite scripture for his purposes,’ snapped Zak. ‘Dump these caged chatterboxes onto the island too! They vex me.’