bookcase only a few feet away. Hidden under a protruding set of rotting encyclopedias, only the side and carved feet of the bookcase were visible.
âStop that!â Yeatsâs voice cracked.
Odysseus ran between the boyâs feet, still spitting and hissing.
âWatch it, Odysseus! Youâre getting in the way.â Cat and boy tangled and Yeats stumbled. In an effort to protect the pirate bookend Yeats rolled onto his shoulder. He lay on his back staring at the bookshelf. Several books protruded from under the legs of the bottom shelf.
Paradise Lost, The Tempest, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer
.
He tried to sit, but the pirate upset his balance. He set the pirate at the near end of the bookcase and knelt in front of the shelf. And then he saw it. On the same shelf, yet at the opposite end, wasa book. â⦠the
Arabian Nights: The Marvels and Wonders of the Thousand and One Nights
. His heart gave a disturbing thump when he read the next part.
Collfieldâs unexpurgated translation
. He touched the leather binding.
Then he noticed something else. He peeked around the book. The tall volume shielded a second pirate, identical to his, back-to-back with the book. There were other books as well, but they had fallen behind the shelf. âDid you do this?â he asked Odysseus. The cat settled on the back of Yeatsâs legs. âBold face, no bite. A lot of good you are.â
Odysseus stared hard. Turning back to the
Arabian Nights
, Yeats suddenly caught his breath. The bookend he had found in the garden was now only a foot from the
Arabian Nights
. He pushed the cat off his legs. He must have moved the pirate when he looked at Odysseus, he assured himself. He glanced at the door. He could run to it in a second if he needed to.
Collfieldâs translation was covered in dust and was the oldest-looking of all the volumes. Yeatsslid the book from the shelf, raising a cloud of dust. He sneezed and the book fell open at his knees.
It is told in days of long ago, that once there lived a king in the lands of India and China and lands between, who was great in strength and wealth
.
Yeats sneezed again and the pages flipped.
And lo! Shaharazad saw that the dawn was coming and with her lordâs permission she ceased her storytelling with the promise of more the following night. The king slept without the torment of his nightly dreams and awoke with a fresh vision of his kingdom
. The letters were in a rather fancy font, and Yeats traced the elaborately decorated
A
at the top of the page.
âHeâs in!â said a voice, alarmingly close. Yeatsâs fingers dug into the pages. The voice continued.
âWhere
have ye been? Itâs been twenty years ifân ye hadnât noticed.â
The voice was coming from the bookshelf. One of the bookend pirates had removed his metal foot from his treasure chest and was dusting off his sea cape. The second pirate stared at Yeats.
âHeâs not in yet, ye stupid blowfish!â
The first pirate whipped his foot back onto the chest and resumed his pose.
Yeats ran out of air. The book fell to the floor.
âHold yer pose,â the first pirate whispered. The second pirate raised his steely eyebrows.
âToo late.â
âHold yer pose!â
âToo late. Heâs lookinâ.â
âHuuuuhhh,â wheezed Yeats.
âSon of a sea dog! What do we do now?â
The pirate walked off his platform and over to Yeats. For the first time Yeats realized that this pirate was different from the pirate he had found outside. The pirate from the garden wore tall sea boots, whereas this pirate was missing a leg. In its place was a wooden peg. The peg leg made the pirate stoop a little when he walked but did not interfere with his speed.
âYe little shred of rotten seaweed â¦â
âShut up, Skin!â shouted the boot-wearing pirate. He threw his hands up and stepped down from the shelf. âItâs not
Learning to Kill: Stories