looked at Horace with a puzzled expression. ‘They’re not my father’s words …’
‘But,’ Horace cut in, ‘I heard it with my own ears, I swear I did – we all did. I’m not a liar.’
‘Let him finish,’ the Captain growled. ‘No one’s calling you a liar.’
Wentworth took a deep breath. ‘My father may have spoken those words, but they belong to my great-grandfather.’
‘Your great-grandfather?’ Horace repeated in confusion.
Wentworth tried to explain. ‘My great-grandfather Anso was an explorer who owned an entire fleet of ships. Whenever he left a ship in the care of an officer he would use the words: Promise you’ll take care of her, ‘til we cross paths again. The officer had a duty to protect the ship like it was his own child and Anso had a duty to return from his adventures and collect her.’
‘I see,’ Horace said, ‘This isn’t just a promise, it’s a pledge.’
‘But what does this mean for him?’ Fred asked, pointing a huge furry finger at Wentworth.
As Wentworth searched his mind for an answer, a whirlwind of hopeless thoughts rushed through his head: give up … they’re gone … the pledge is for nothing. He felt the knot in his tail tighten.
The crew looked down at him expectantly but Wentworth lacked the courage to meet their gaze. He lowered his eyes until they came to rest on the ripped shirt. At first all he saw was a cruel reminder of that terrible night. But as he stared at the torn sleeve, the dark thoughts in his head began to fade. Instead of seeing a tattered item of clothing, he saw a story of survival.
A distant memory floated into his mind and he absentmindedly slid his paw to the top of his chest. His trembling fingers felt the shape of a gold pendant. His parents had given it to him when he was a young boy. He thought he’d lost it in the cyclone; but the pendant, like its wearer, had survived, and it was hanging where it belonged – close to his heart.
He ran his finger over its smooth surface and reflected on its design. It was an anchor: the steadfast symbol of hope.
If I can survive a cyclone and nearly die, he told himself, then surely my family can survive …
The knot in his tail began to loosen. He looked up at Fred.
‘What this means,’ Wentworth said slowly, ‘is that I need to have hope that my family are still alive, and that my father, like my grandfather, will one day fulfil his side of the promise and find his way back to me.’
Horace smiled, Fred patted Wentworth on the shoulder and Smudge clapped his little hands.
‘This promise means something else, you know,’ Pete muttered to the Captain. ‘It means that until we find this circus boy’s family we’re stuck with him.’
The Captain sighed. ‘Yes, I suppose you’re right, Pete. I made a promise and I have a duty to keep it.’
He turned to Wentworth with a look of resolve. ‘I suggest you try and get some more rest. There is much we need to discuss, but now is not the time.’
Without saying another word, the Pie Rats tiptoed out of the room, leaving Wentworth alone with his thoughts. Finally, his anxious body began to relax and he drifted off to sleep.
A Mysterious Letter
It was late afternoon when Wentworth stirred from his slumber. He hadn’t eaten in two days, and was overjoyed when Fred arrived at his bedside with a freshly cooked plum pie. Wentworth devoured every plum and every last crumb.
He’d barely finished eating when the rest of the crew marched into the cabin.
‘I trust you’re feeling better this afternoon, Wentworth?’ the Captain asked cheerfully.
After eating an entire pie, Wentworth wasn’t sure how he felt, but nodded all the same.
‘From now on,’ the Captain said, ‘you will no longer be known as Wentworth Winterbottom.’
‘But that’s my name,’ Wentworth gasped.
‘Was your name,’ Pete corrected. ‘It would never do for a Pie Rat name.’
‘W-what are you talking about?’ Wentworth stammered. ‘Why do I need a Pie Rat name?’
‘Because,’ the Captain replied, ‘we don’t carry passengers and we don’t take prisoners, and because I have sworn to protect you, I can’t throw you overboard. Therefore, from this day forward, there is only one other option – you are now one of us.’
Wentworth was speechless. He tried to appear grateful, but this wasn’t a career choice he would have willingly made.
Ruby crossed her arms and looked down at him with a frown. It was obvious she had similar reservations about him joining the crew.
‘As a new recruit,’ the Captain explained, ‘you will undertake a Pie Rat apprenticeship. Once you have passed the seven Pie Rat tests you will become a full member of the crew.’
‘But what if I fail?’ Wentworth blurted out.
‘Don’t worry, you won’t fail,’ Horace encouraged. ‘You’ve already passed the first test.’
‘Which is?’ Wentworth asked.
‘Surviving when you should have died,’ Horace replied. ‘It’s a great skill to have. If you’ve done it once, you can do it again.’
Wentworth had no desire to test this theory.
‘On the subject of survival,’ the Captain said, ‘I thought your new name should reflect the dramatic nature of your rescue.’
Wentworth crossed his fingers and hoped it wasn’t something ridiculous like Washed-up Waterbottom.
The Captain extended his paw to Wentworth. ‘From this day forth, you will be known as Whisker, the brave Pie Rat who narrowly escaped death. Welcome to the Pie Rats.’
With a hesitant shake of the Captain’s paw, Wentworth’s story ended and Whisker’s began.
It wasn’t long before Whisker was back to full health. Pete made it perfectly clear he wanted his cabin back, so Whisker moved into the cramped sleeping quarters of Horace and Fred. His hammock wasn’t as comfortable as Pete’s soft bed but it certainly beat sleeping on the floor of a circus tent.
‘If you’re going to make it in this industry, you’ll need a new look to match your new name,’ Horace said, fossicking through a pile of old clothes. He pulled out a familiar navy blue shirt with his hook and held it up for Whisker to see. ‘Perfect!’ he exclaimed. ‘This one’s your size.’
‘I can’t wear that,’ Whisker
