Jolly Jack Junior
(The Buccaneer's Bairn)

a 10-minute swashbuckle and fisticuff for two actors, one of them female

by Jeff Goode

copyright © 2004
Jolly Jack Junior by Jeff Goode (copyright © 2004)
All rights reserved. This script may not be performed, printed, downloaded or re-transmitted without the author's consent.

SCENE: The Deck of a Sailing Ship - "The Boatswain's Booty"

 

(Sounds of a sea battle raging - cannonfire and sabers clashing - pirates boarding the ship.  PIRATE WILLY bounds onto the stage, a cutlass in either hand.)

 

WILLY

Avast, ye brigands!  Yo ho!  Strike colors and submit to be boarded.  (calling to his crew:) Haul aft to the helm, me hearties.  Hoist the mizzenpoop and trim fast the doozy.  Take no prisoners, save the women and agile boys.  And a lubbard's blarney to the bloke who brings me the brigands' captain.  Harrr![1]

 

WENCH (offstage:)

Unhand me, ye scurvy scuttlefish!

 

WILLY

Man that woman, mate, she's gettin' away!  Mind your starboard jowl!  No, yer starboard!

 

(A resounding SMACK from offstage.  WILLY winces.  A PIRATE WENCH rushes in and tries to get past him, but he sheathes his blade and catches her in one arm.)

 

WILLY

Hold there, sea wench!  Where ye think yer garn?

 

WENCH

To hell's britches ere I answer to the likes of you, ye daft cutlet.  This be a pirate vessel, ye've boarded.  We're all pirates here!

 

WILLY

Aye, and it's pirates I'm pillaging today - the devil take 'em - for I am one-eyed Willy, the buccaneer's bane.  Have ye not heard o' me?

 

WENCH

Nay, I think I'd remember that.

 

WILLY

Well, I'm new.  (then with gusto:) Orphaned by pirates I was!  And I mean to have me revenge on every last scoundrel.  Now take me to your captain 'fore I do something I might not regret.

 

WENCH

What, will you have your pleasures with me unwilling corpse, you filthy, whoreson, motherless son of a sea cow?

 

WILLY

Motherless I be - for orphaned by pirates I was - but I'd sooner suckle a manatee's teat than mingle my bilges with the likes of you, ya withered old crone.  Why, you must be nearly 28, by the looks of ye.

 

WENCH

I don't look a day over 25, an' you know it, ye scurrilous scallywag.  And I may be withered - by contemporary standards - but I'm still as fine a piece of sea bass as you'll never lay fingers on.  Now unfist me before I pluck out your other eye, ye couthless bootblack.

 

WILLY

Nay, and ye'll nae touch me eye, till I've seen your captain with it.  Now where be the brigand?

 

WENCH

What would the likes of you want with the likes of Captain Jack?

 

WILLY

Captain Jack?  Did you say, Captain Jack??

 

WENCH

Aye, Captain Jack, the terror and scourge of the high seas, and some of the low ones, too.  What's the matter, mate?  Ye look weak in the gills at the very sound of the name.  And rightly so, for there's no more treacherous pirate on land or sea.  Or up in space, for that matter.  Ye've good reason to be terrified.

 

WILLY

Terrified?  I don't know the meaning of the word!

 

WENCH

It means scared.

 

WILLY

I know what it means!  I was being facetious.

 

WENCH

I don't know the meaning of the word!

 

(He rolls his eye at her, but goes on.)

 

WILLY

Fear is for cowards, says I.  And I'll have none of it!

 

WENCH

Then why do ye tremble in yer galoshes at the mere mention of Captain Jack?  (He flinches at the mention.  So she does it again.)  Cap'n Jack!  Cap'n Jack!

 

WILLY

Shut your fish hole, ye briny deck trollop!  I'm not afeared o' your Captain Jack.

 

WENCH

Ha!  So yer a coward and a liar, to boot!

 

WILLY

Nae, but I tell ye true, sea slut, it pangs me to hear the name, because I've sought this Captain Jack for near me entire life.  Since I was naught but a wee bairn in me swaddles growin' up in a lubbard's orphanage north of New Norfolk, I prayed myself to sleep at night cursing the name of Cap'n Jack, the pirate that orphaned me.  I'd lie abed awake in that unholy monastery with nothing but me simmering hatred and the love o' God to feed me when the nuns would not.  No sooner was I old enough to be out of me diapers, than I set off in quest of me quarry.  I searched the world over, far and wide, o'er hill and mountain, desert and near-desert.  And then I figured out Captain Jack was a pirate name, and I started searching the seas.

 

WENCH

You poor wastling.  And how long have you been questing?

 

WILLY

Nigh on three weeks.

 

WENCH

Three weeks without diapers?!  How do you bear it?

 

WILLY

Double thick breeches, lass.  Double thick breeches.

 

WENCH

But what's so all-bloody important about catchin' Captain Jack?

 

WILLY

I just told ye, didn't I?!  Have ye not paid a heed of a word I have said?

 

WENCH

Not really.  I was admirin' yer pectorals.

 

WILLY

Well, what does any orphan rogue of a waif search high and low the world over for - journeying near and far, far and wide - driving himself half mad with grief, and the other half with rum?

 

WENCH

Well, it sounds like the love of a fine wench is what you're describing, if I know me obsessions.  That, or a whale.

 

WILLY

 (bitter laugh)  Aye, a wench,  you might say.  But not a fine one by any means.  Y'see, it was Captain Jack who left me a motherless orphan in that godless orphanage.

 

WENCH

You mean...?

 

WILLY

That's right.  Captain Jack - your own Captain Jack - ... is my mother.

 

WENCH

Your mother?

 

WILLY

That's right.

 

WENCH

Captain Jack?

 

WILLY

That's right.

 

WENCH

...is your mother?!

 

WILLY

Aye, you heard me the first 3 times.  Captain Cecily Jack, the scourge of the seas, the captain of this vessel.  The demon queen of the oceans green.  She's my mother, an I'll have you know.  Now will you take me to her, or do I have to keel haul it out of you?

 

WENCH

Stow your threats, for I'll tell you right now.  I'm the Captain of this vessel!

 

(She grabs the cutlass out of his scabbard and takes a swing at him.  He barely ducks and draws his other blade.  THEY FIGHT.)

 

WILLY

You!  Y'are my mother?  Can it be?  After all these years of praying - and weeks of actually looking - I've finally found you.

 

WENCH

Save your wind for other sails, boy, for I am no man's mother I.

 

WILLY

Aye?

 

WENCH

Aye!

 

WILLY

Ye're a liar then!  For the whole sea-faring world knows the legend of the dread pirate Cecily Jack, Captain of the Boatswain's Booty and how, not fifteen years agone, she took to her cabins in the midst of a storm, complaining of cramps and bloated with "sea-weight".  There, she secretly gave birth to a strapping baby boy, who - fearful for her standing in the naval profession - she wrapped in an old galley cloth, and heaved him over the stern into the storm.

 

WENCH

Not much of a secret, then, was it?

 

WILLY

I stand before you today, that same strapping boy become a strapping man.  An' that's the God's truth.

 

WENCH

Then God's a damn liar!  For if your story were true, you'd barely be 15 years old.

 

WILLY

Aye, but a strapping 15.  I mentioned I was strapping, didn't I?

 

WENCH

Well, I can see that for myself.

 

WILLY

It runs in the family.  Captain Cecily Jack, it's said, was but a slip of a wee lass of 13 when she took on a whole boatload of pirates single-handed.  They made her their Captain that very day, out of respect for her prowess.

 

WENCH

Aye, I'm full of prowess.

 

(She deftly disarms him and shoves her blade under his chin.)

 

WENCH

Now, have ye any last words before Mama tucks you in...?  To Davey Jone's locker!

 

WILLY

Ye'd be so callous to off your own offspring?

 

WENCH

For callin' me an old crone?  I'd slit my own throat if I caught me doing it.

 

WILLY

Yer heart is not wrenched for sorrow by the harrowsome tale of my parentless past?

 

WENCH

Like ye said yourself, sailor, the whole whalin' world knows the tale of the tot I tossed in the torrents, that stormy night, those many years agone.  And not a week goes by but you and every other mongrel pup in Poseidon's Christendom comes lookin' for me, claimin' to be my longlost, hopin' to snuggle a motherly hug and a day's rate of rations out of me for pity.  But the day's not half done 'fore, they're all clapped in irons and fed to the sharks, because not one of 'em thought to mention the golden locket I tucked into the seam of the wee squalling newborn's bedding - so that one day his doting mother would know him on sight - before I dumped him off the poop deck and into the squalls.

 

WILLY

I have a locket.

 

WENCH

Ye what?

 

(She refrains from killing him.)

 

WILLY

Aye, a golden locket that was lodged in me gullet when they dredged me out of the foam at New Norfolk.  They had to uncork it from me ere I could breathe right.  I didn't know what it was for, but the sisters at the orphanage let me keep it because it was too sticky with sea goo to pawn at the rectory shop.

 

WENCH

Then it's true!  Ye are my wee castaway bairn!

 

WILLY

As sure as ye're my bairn-casting mairn.

 

WENCH

And you've come all this way to be reunited with your prodigal mum?

 

WILLY

Aye, mother, I have. 

 

WENCH

I hope yer not thinkin' we can just take up where we left off.

 

WILLY

Well, we left off with you heaving me to the sharks, so, no, I'd rather not start there. 

 

WENCH

I guess that's understandable.

 

WILLY

Nor would I care to start any otherwhere, for I want nothing to do with you.

 

WENCH

What?  Then why'd ye come all this way?

 

WILLY

To gut you like a salmon fish, ye heartless harpy!

 

(He knocks her backward and seizes her weapon.  THEY FIGHT.)

 

WILLY

I've hated you all these many years, for abandoning me when I was but a hapless swaddle, and I mean to fillet you alive for it and see if that improves me self-esteem.

 

WENCH

Have ye no mercy then?

 

WILLY

Mercy?  Why, ye're lucky I don't lash you to the mainmast and flog out a drubbing for every time the cruel Sisters of Saint Salome's wore out a leather strap on my behind--(sobs)--when it should have been me own mum!

 

(He stops fighting and starts to weep, then lunges at her - pinning her to the mast.)

 

WILLY

Have you naught to say for yourself, before I scuttle you like an old harbor tug?

 

WENCH

You'd murder your own mother?

 

WILLY

With no more remorse than I'd throttle a mangy wharf rat.

 

WENCH

Well, all right, then, do it and be quick about it.

 

WILLY

I'll do it when I please.

 

WENCH

You'll do it when I say, I haven't got all day for this.

 

WILLY

Don't tell me what to do.

 

WENCH

I'll tell you anything I like.  This is still my ship.

 

WILLY

Ye're not the boss o' me!

 

WENCH

Don't sass your mother!  It's insubordination.

 

WILLY

I don't care if y'are my mother.  I'll sass as I please.  And I'll kill you when I kill you and not a moment before.  For what you've done to me, I ought to kill my grandmother, too. 

 

WENCH

Oh, leave her be, son.  The woman has cats.

 

WILLY

All right, my father then.  I'll kill him.  Where is he?

 

WENCH

Sweet Neptune's privy!  If I knew that, you think I'd still be running a boat?  It's every little girl's dream - even a successful career pirate like myself - to give up all her ambitions and raise a child in a little house with a white picket fence and a hulking man at her side to take care of her, just like in all the romance tales.

 

WILLY

Really?

 

WENCH

No, of course not.

 

WILLY

Then tell me who my father is.  Or so help me, I'll spit you where you stand.

 

WENCH

You'd best go ahead and spit me then, because I haven't the slightest idea.  It could be any one of these blackguards.  (She gestures toward the crew.)

 

WILLY

You mean to say ye slept with your entire crew?

 

WENCH

Once a week, whether they needed it or not.  There's not a man jack on this boat hasn't had Captain Jack's booty.  Promotes morale.  There's no greater loyalty than the love of a man for the only woman who'll have him.  Why do you think they made me Captain?

 

WILLY

I thought it was because you took on a boatload of pirates single-handed.

 

WENCH

Aye.  But I didn't use my hands.

 

WILLY

Ugh!  You're nothing but a dirty deck harlot!  A galley slattern!  A cargo ho!

 

WENCH

Watch your mouth.  I'm still your mother.

 

WILLY

I'd rather I were still a motherless bastard than the whoreson whelp of a scullery pump.

 

WENCH

It's what I had to be, son, in order to survive.  The sea is a cruel mistress.  And she's even crueler if you're a supple young lass on a ship full of men whose only other mistress is the cruel sea.  It was either learn to love my crew, or learn to love being tied down to a galley table while my crew learned to love me.  And let me tell you, they're slow learners.  So I made my choices.  Choices you, as a man, may never have to make.

 

WILLY

You forget, I was brought up in a catholic orphanage.

 

WENCH

Oh, that's right.

 

WILLY

Why do you think they call me one-eye Willy?

 

WENCH

It's not because of the patch?

 

WILLY

No, the patch is so they don't ask me why the monks call me one-eye Willy.

 

WENCH

Ew.

 

WILLY

But we don't have to talk about that.

 

(He straightens his eyepatch.)

 

WENCH

Am I proud of what I've done?  Am I proud of tossing my only babe in a bundle off the poop deck in a storm to spare him from a life of piracy which it turns out he went ahead and took up on his own anyway?  ...Frankly, no, that's kind of embarrassing.  But am I proud of being able to suck a cannonball through forty feet of cast iron stove pipe?  Hell, yes, I am!  You try it.  It's quite an accomplishment.  But this is the life that chose me, son.  And there's nothing for it, but to make the best chowder from what's in your net.

 

WILLY

I never thought of it that way.  I guess I didn't know.

 

WENCH

There's a lot of things you didn't know about me, lad.

 

WILLY

But I want to know.  I want us to be a family.  A pirate family.

 

WENCH

That's all I needed to hear!  Come to my arms, my brackish boy.

 

 (They embrace.  They KISS.  It lasts a little too long.  He suddenly pulls away.)

 

WILLY

Ugh!  Mum!  I'm your boy!

 

WENCH

Well, I warned you I was a fine dish of sea bass.

 

WILLY

You are, at that.

 

WENCH

I told ye.

 

WILLY

And how was I?

 

WENCH

You kiss like a shipful of sailors on shore leave.

 

WILLY

And that's good?

 

WENCH

No, that's very bad.

 

WILLY

Arr!

 

WENCH

But you'll learn...

 

(She puts her arm around him, and they wander off into the salty sunset...)

 

WILLY

So how'd you come to find yourself alone at 13 on a boat full of pirates in the first place?

 

WENCH

They answered my ad.

 

(BLACKOUT)



[1] Author's Note: Some of these words are made up.