Like all good water vessels, the rowboat had a name, painted in dripping letters on the side: SEAS THE DAY.
“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Chauncey asked, pushing his way through them and moving to either side of the rowboat as if inspecting it. “Got her for a steal from a billionaire who only used her a few times a year.”
“Whatever you paid, it was too much,” Phee said.
Chauncey ignored her. “Since it’s my day to pick the adventure, I get to be in charge. Lucy and Talia, you’ll fan me with the palm frond and feed me grapes out of the cooler while paying me compliments.”
Lucy shook his head. “I want to be captain.”
Talia’s hand shot in the air, fingers wiggling.
“Yes, Talia?” Chauncey asked.
“I would also like to be captain.”
This, of course, led to each of the children (sans David) extolling their own qualifications for being the captain of the yacht. It devolved into a shouting match where Talia threatened to send Lucy a bouquet of poisonous flowers, and Lucy responded by yelling that he would love that so much and that he double-dog dared her to.
Chauncey, on the other hand, had a different idea. “It’s my day, so I get to decide! Lucy and Talia, fanning and grapes. Phee and Sal are the first mates and the strongest, so that means they get to paddle. Theodore is our figurehead, as all good ships have one. Also, his sense of direction will keep us from getting lost at sea, which is great because if we do, we’d have to draw straws to see who we’d eat to avoid starvation. No pressure.”
“But then who’s going to be captain?” Lucy asked with a pout. “Linus? He told me he hates being the captain of anything, so you should just let me do it.”
“Fibber,” Linus muttered under his breath.
“It’s going to be the one person who didn’t demand it,” Chauncey announced. “David.”
David looked around wildly. “Are you talking to me?”
“Yes!” Chauncey said. “You have the most important job of all. You’re going to be captain, which means you’re in charge of the yacht. Nothing happens on the ship without your say-so.”
“But—I—there’s…” David slumped inward on himself, shoulders hunched. “Someone else would probably be better.” He kicked at the sand, leaving a shallow divot. “I’ve never been a captain before.”
“See?” Lucy said. “That’s why it should be me. Besides, what if there’s a lava monster rising from a secret cavern on the ocean floor? He won’t even know what to do!” Then, perhaps for reasons only known to a seven-year-old boy with a demon in his soul, he raised his hands above his head and shrieked wordlessly at the ocean.
“Lava monster?” David asked in hushed reverence. “There’s a lava monster?”
“Maybe,” Talia said, jumping up the side of the rowboat, hanging off the edge, her little legs kicking as she climbed inside. She immediately began to root around in the cooler. “Eighty percent of the ocean is unexplored, so who knows what’s out there waiting to eat us?”
“We’re snack size,” Lucy said. “Like a little bag of chips.” He brightened. “Cronch, cronch, cronch.”
“What’s this?” Talia asked, lifting an object above her head as she slid off the side of the boat. In her hand, she held a cap: white with a black brim under gold tassels. On the front of the cap, gold yarn in the shape of an anchor.
“That’s the official captain’s cap,” Chauncey said. “When someone wears it, we have to do whatever they say.”
Lucy nodded. “Because the hat has magic, and whoever wears it can control anyone they wish. Nice.”
Chauncey said. “What? It’s just a—”
“That’s exactly right, Lucy,” Arthur said.
Lucy blinked. “It … is?”
“May I?” Arthur asked Chauncey before plucking the hat from him. He turned and moved toward David, who looked either as if he were extremely excited, or wanted to run in the opposite direction. “David, Chauncey has bestowed upon you a gift. Leaders are often called upon in times of great need. And we have need of you. Will you answer the call?” He held out the cap.
David looked at it, then at Arthur, then back to the cap. With a trembling hand, he reached out and touched the brim. Knowing David was still feeling things out, Arthur didn’t push, letting him making up his own mind.
He was delighted when David took the cap, turned it over in his hands, huffed out a breath, and then lowered it onto his head. It was a little big, sinking on his head until it covered his eyes. Arthur put two fingers under the brim, pushing it back up.
“A fine captain,” Arthur said. He snapped to attention, back straight, legs stiff. Making sure David was watching, he offered a snappy salute. “Sir, if I may provide a suggestion. Why don’t you give it a go? See how being the captain feels.”
“Tell me to do something!” Lucy demanded. “I want to see if it’s really magic.” Then, under his breath, “Even though I wanted to be the one to wear it.”
“Um,” David said. “Do … a … cartwheel?”
Lucy groaned. “Boring. Fine. Watch.” He ran across the sand at high speed and raised his hands above his head. As neat as you please, Lucy bent forward quickly, hands in the sand, legs kicking up and over his head. However, instead of using the momentum to push himself off the ground, he decided to use his face, and flopped over, spitting out mouthfuls of sand.
“It works!” he cried. “That hat is magic!”
“What a special boy he is,” Talia said.
They climbed into the rowboat, Linus going first to help the other children up and in. Once they had all boarded the yacht (save for Arthur), Chauncey sat down in his cabin, the stalks on top of his head bent to keep his eyes from rubbing against cardboard. “It’s terribly warm,” he said, affecting the posh accent from earlier. “Lucy! Talia! I need to be fanned and fed grapes. Wot, wot! Hip hop!”
“I am going to feed him so many grapes they come out his butt,” Talia muttered as she wobbled her way over to the box.
Arthur went to the back of the boat. “Ready?” he asked, as Linus helped the children with their life jackets, including attaching a pink floatie around Theodore’s neck—at his request—to keep him from sinking should he end up in the water. He could swim quite well, but for some reason, he loved the floatie.
“Ready!” Chauncey called. “Launch the yacht!”
Arthur pushed as hard as he could, feet sinking into the sand, teeth gritting together. The rowboat moved an inch, then two, then it was carving through the water, the sail billowing out as the wind pushed against it. Arthur managed to climb on board (with Linus’s help) before the vessel left him behind. He settled on a bench, watching as Lucy fanned Chauncey with the palm frond, Talia throwing grapes at his face that Chauncey missed more than he caught. Beyond them, Theodore sat perched at the front of the vessel, head darting side to side, floatie squeaking every time he moved. Sal and Phee paddled (Phee using the broken oar), but it was the wind that propelled them forward, the blanket sail pulled taut.
