Tuesday, March 3, 2009

A pirate story continued and love for sulky japanese boys.

After being reminded of Kafka on the Shore, the book by Haruki Murakami, I find myself looking back at it with much interest. I would like to buy the book and read it over again. (The first time I read it I borrowed it) It's the type of book people can't understand in one go; they have to read and reread. Yes. I shall go out and buy the book.

I particularly liked Kafka's sulkiness, rebellious-ness and helplessness all bundled in one. He is one sulky Japanese dude. Oshima in that story was also wonderful. ^_^

Anyways, on to the pirate story:

They couldn’t stay here anymore.

Miere and Arla had decided that. They had also decided that they were going to join Iki and gang and explore the vast expanses of land and sea.

It was late one night, when the darkness dipped to its dimmest point that they decided to quietly leave the inn.

They came into the inn with nothing, and would take nothing with them.

“Going somewhere?” a voice issued from the darkness, sending the girls jumping like a pair of flopping fish dying of dehydration.

The only thought that crossed their minds was, “How did he know?”

The reply came, as if Seth possessed telekinetic powers. “I don’t have my office above the servants’ quarters for nothing, you know.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, as if time had collapsed.

“RUN!” Miere screamed. Arla flew behind her.

In response, Captain Seth yelled, “Out, men!” At that moment three corpulent roughnecks stepped out, previously hidden by the darkness. Before the sisters could make their getaway, they sealed the tree exits: the front door, back door and the windows. The one blocking the windows was so huge that he covered the entire area with his bulk.

Miere hurled herself at the one blocking the door, but his expanded belly was like a giant rubber ball. She bounced back, skidding along the floor. The enormous man let out a grating laugh.

Captain Seth’s grey-green eyes slid along their faces which were now frozen in shock.

Now the question seemed to be: “Where’d you find these guys?”

“I’ve got surprises,” Captain Seth said, grinning. How did he know their questions?

Now the Captain held a length of tough rope between his hands, the prosthetic steel digits standing out in the light of the yellow bulb that had just been switched on. “Light-footed girls like you...” he began.

“...should be tied up!” He pursued them with uncharacteristic speed, his metal leg hitting the floor repeatedly, and sounding like the beating of a war-drum. Startled, Miere and Arla dashed into the only opening available—the kitchen doors. It proved to be not a very smart thing to do—the kitchen was a cul-de-sac, with an entrance but no exit.

The Captain burst in, usual cool demeanour overtaken by a blast of fury. The muscles in this face were pulled into wrinkles, and the candles in his eyes flashed brighter than before. The rope between his hands was stretched taut.

Miere and Arla backed away slowly, inching nearer to the wall. They could smell the lingering odours of the day’s remnants, especially the way smell of burnt lard. It was funny how insignificant details stuck to your mind when you didn’t need them.

Arla’s elbow hit something. Instinctively she groped for the light switch. Another dim bulb flickered on. She saw what she’d knocked over—a set of knives, blades shiny-sharp from rubbing against the grinding stone. She snatched up one with a serrated edge, and brandished it in front of the Captain’s face. Miere followed suit.

Captain Seth allowed a small chuckle to break his livid mask. “Kitchen knives!” he exclaimed. “I’ve got better!” after saying this, he produced a slim, small dagger that dangled from his hand like a lethal extension. The story of his pirate days came flooding back to Arla. Of course he had been good with knives.

Miere swung her knife, meaning to graze the Captain’s shoulder, but of course she was no match. A swift parry quelled her attempt. She didn’t want to hurt the Captain; just hit him so that it would create a diversion. Obviously this was going to be harder than she thought.
Henny came running out at present. Her face turned white. She thrust herself at the Captain.

“No, Captain!” she cried.

“Stay out of this!” Captain Seth blared. Henny retreated, and was almost immediately seized and tied up by the fat grunt by the window.

Miere tried again, twirling the knife and sending it whistling through the air. Captain Seth expertly blocked every one of her slashes. The most she achieved was a scratch on his right hand. She was beginning to become frustrated, and sweat beaded on his brow.

Then Arla swing a heavy pan at his midriff. The Captain doubled over, breath drawn out sharply by the impact. Still gripping the knives, Miere and Arla dashed out to confront the grunts still by the exits.

However these grunts were also armed—with giant slingshots. Stones ranging from small pebbles to larger ones roughly the size of fists were used. The girls knew better than to laugh—cruising at high velocity, those stones could hack someone’s head off.

The grunts launched a volley of flying stones, and the inn looked like a sky peppered with heavy stars. Not nimble enough to dodge every single one, Miere and Arla sustained various bruises and cuts. Soon the hailing became unbearable, and Arla flung the knife at one of the slingshots, it hit home, fortunately, and fell out of the grunt’s hand. Miere darted to pick it up.

One down, two to go. Arla readied her knife, while Miere picked up stray stones and loaded them back into the newly acquired slingshot. She knew that she had to use clever strategy, so she decided to aim for the eyes, even though her targeting was not very accurate.