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“No, not that, the other one you’re wearing—of course that one!” Uma snapped, her patience wearing thin.
“Okay…” said the girl hesitantly, removing it from her head and holding it out.
Uma studied it, admiring its craftsmanship and detail. It really was a fine pirate’s hat.
“You can have it,” the girl said suddenly.
“Oh? What do you want for it?” asked Uma.
“Nothing! I don’t want anything from you!” she protested. “I want to keep whatever I have, my voice, my legs, my soul, my humanity! Here, take it!” She shoved the hat forcefully into Uma’s outstretched hand.
“Oh! Good,” Uma said, taking it happily. “Did you make this?”
“Yes,” said the young pirate, looking sad to have now lost the hat. “I washed the leather five times and picked all the seashells, then I stitched the band with a grosgrain ribbon….”
Uma shrugged; all her interest had waned now that the hat was hers. She wasn’t the type to make conversation anyway.
“Nice hat,” said Harry, when she arrived at the ship.
Uma grinned. “Nice ship,” she said, watching pirates cut down planks to the right length, nailing boards, and threading the sail.
“Sweet, isn’t it?” he drawled, scratching his cheek with his hook. “At least once we patch up the holes, fix the mast, and see to the anchor, we’ll be set to go. I’ve got the crew working day and night.”
Uma crossed her arms, hoping she appeared as fierce as she thought she did. It was hard work looking this awesome. “Good job,” she said to Harry.
“Good job, Captain?” he said hopefully.
“As if. You work for me, remember? Do I have to keep reminding you? I’m captain, you’re first mate,” said Uma, pointing a finger and stabbing his chest with it.
“First date if you’re lucky,” said Harry with a wink, pulling on his collar and strutting a little.
“Shut up,” said Uma with a laugh. “And see to that sail.”
Harry swaggered away chuckling. Uma knew, try as she might, she couldn’t hurt his feelings. It was all part of the game of question-and-rejection they’d played forever. But a few minutes later, Harry swiveled on his boots and returned to her side, leaning in closely. “Uma, darling,” he said, in his rough brogue. “I just need to ask again—how are we going to find that thing in the water?”
“Leave that to me,” said Uma. “Just get this ship ready.” She gave him a confident smile, but she was none too pleased by that pesky reminder. How were they going to find that trident?
The answer came later that day—at the Fish and Chips Shoppe, no less. Uma was taking a break in the kitchen with Cook, who was feeding Flotsam and Jetsam, the two electric eels who had been Ursula’s sidekicks during her glory days. The eels were swimming in their tank, below an old portrait of Ursula that hung in the middle of the kitchen, as if to remind everyone whom they worked for.
“Mama was really something, wasn’t she? Back then?” said Uma. Flotsam and Jetsam nodded in their aquarium, slithering over each other.
Cook, a swarthy woman with messy red hair who always wore an ill-fitting white peasant dress with a red collar, had a faraway look in her eye. “She really was,” she mourned as she cleaned a fish and saved the guts for stew.
Uma wondered what it was like, living under the sea, ruling the waves. “Those days will come back,” she said.
“You think so?” Cook said hopefully.
Uma nodded decisively. “I know so. I plan to make it happen. Finish what Maleficent started, get off this island, and wreak vengeance on our enemies!” She stared intently at the golden seashell around Ursula’s neck.
“Hey, do you know whatever happened to Mom’s necklace?”
Cook squinted at the picture. “It got destroyed; when Prince Eric defeated your mum it shattered in a
thousand pieces.”
“I know that. I mean what happened to it after that?” asked Uma.
“After?” Cook frowned, setting a pot to boil and adding sea slime to the broth.
