Hook was pleased. It had taken Smee hours to accomplish all this, but it had been worth it.
The captain was at his craftiest this day. There was an inevitability about his plan that gave him an unshakable confidence as he stood waiting at the door, hands clasped behind his back, a benevolent look fixed upon his countenance. Pan's children turned against him-it was delicious. Pan's children made to love Captain Hook-it was charming. Best of all, it was devious.
Hook's smile broadened even further as Smee ushered the children in. A flush of expectation colored his bony cheeks.
"Good morning, children!" he greeted effusively, and tried not to brandish the hook. "Sit down, right over there."
Smee propelled the little dears across the room-Hook could not help noticing their undisguised interest in the map of Neverland-to the chairs and desks that had been set up for them facing Hook's own gilt-edged walnut desk. Maggie's chin was barely above her desktop. Jack was already squirming. Neither looked the least bit comfortable with the situation.
Hook moved over to stand in front of a chalkboard that had been unearthed from one of his warehouses. It was two-sided and revolved on pins. The side facing the children was blank.
"Do you know why you're here, children?" he asked solicitously.
They shook their heads.
"You are here to attend school," he announced.
"What sort of school?" Maggie asked suspiciously.
Hook drew himself up. "The school of life, my dear," he replied grandly. Then he cocked his hook admonishingly. "Henceforth, if you wish to speak, you will raise your hand."
"You're not a teacher!" Maggie declared defiantly.
Smee struck the edge of the desk with the flat of a ruler and Maggie jumped a foot. Hook smiled benignly. "Order, now. You don't want me to have to put you on detention, do you? Detention can be most unpleasant."
He reached back to the chalkboard, gave it a sharp spin, and then caught it with the reverse side facing forward.
Jack and Maggie stared. The chalkboard read:
WHY PARENTS HATE THEIR CHILDREN
Hook turned back again. "Now pay attention, class. We have a lot to cover in today's lesson. Which is: Why Parents Hate Their Children."
As he turned back to the board Maggie leaned over to Jack and whispered, "Parents don't hate their children!"
Out of the corner of his eye Hook watched the boy. Jack seemed less certain of this than his sister. He whispered something back. Hook couldn't hear what it was, but he didn't need to, judging by Maggie's reaction.
"They don't!" she insisted angrily. She seemed to search her memory for proof, then exclaimed hurriedly, "Doesn't Mommy read us a story every night?"
Hook turned slowly, still smiling, and pointed to Maggie.
"You, the cute little urchin in the front row. Won't you share your thoughts with the whole class?"
He waved his hand expansively as if there were others besides the two, all waiting to hear what Maggie had to say. The little girl was white-faced, but her jaw stuck out determinedly.
"I said Mommy reads to us every night because she loves us very much!" she declared loudly.
Hook feigned astonishment. "Loves you?" He repeated the words as if they lacked validity. He glanced knowingly at his bosun. "That's the 1-word, isn't it, Smee?"
Smee shook his head reprovingly. Hook came forward to stand before the children, then scraped his hook slowly, deliberately down the middle of the desktop.
"Love? No, I think not. She reads to you to stupefy you, to lull you to sleep so that she can sit down for three measly minutes-alone-without you and your mindless, inexhaustible, unstoppable, repetitive, nagging demands!" Hook cocked his head and began to mimic, " 'He took my toy! She hid my bear! Give me my cookie! I want to potty! I want to stay up!' I want, I want, I want-me, me, me, mine, mine, mine! Now, now, now!" His voice lowered. "Mommy and Daddy have to listen to it all day long and they hate it! They tell you stories to SHUT YOU UP!"
Maggie's lip was trembling. "That's not true." Her voice lowered. "You're a liar!"
Hook backed away instantly, hand and hook clasped to his heart. "Me? Lie? Never!" His smile was bright and hard. "The truth is way too much fun, my dear."
He assumed a look of tragic resignation. "Before you were born, they would stay up all night long just to watch the sunrise. Then they would sleep until noon. They did silly things for no reason. They laughed very loud. They played all sorts of games and sang all sorts of songs. None of which they do now, do they?"
He paused. "Before you were bom"-he sighed longingly-"they were so much happier." He glanced quickly at Smee. "Am I right?"
"Happy as flappin' flounders in the deep blue sea, Cap'n," Smee agreed.
Both children shuddered with recognition of the possibility that it was true. Hook was exceedingly pleased.
"Can't you see what you've done to them?" he demanded, a pleading look on his face. "You've given them responsibility! You've made Mommy and Daddy grow up! How could they possibly love you for that?"
A knock on the door brought them all about. Hook muttered something unintelligible, and the pirate Tickles stuck his head through hurriedly.
"Cap'n?" he ventured hesitantly.
"Yes, what is it, Pickles?" Smee rushed forward to whisper hurriedly in his ear. "Very well!" stormed Hook. "What is it, Tickles!"
The pirate cringed. "Cap'n, it's time to give the order for the firing squad!"
Hook brushed him back with a casual wave. Sauntering over to the door, he opened it wide and bellowed, "FIRE!"
Flintlocks crashed from somewhere outside and then there was silence. Jack sat rigid in his chair. Maggie sat with her eyes closed.
Tickles tried sneaking back through the door without being seen and came right up against Hook. Belly to belly, they faced each other.
Hook sniffed. His nose wrinkled in distaste. "It's a bath for you tonight, Tickles," he hissed, and booted the pirate back the way he had come.
Hook closed the door without having ever once looked through it and returned to stand in front of the chalkboard.
"Time for the dreaded pop quiz," he announced.
He spun the board once more and this time when it stopped, he wrote the words "I LOVE YOU." He turned to face the children, waiting until Smee had completed handing out blank sheets of paper. This was really going quite well, he thought delightedly.
"Are we ready, now?" he asked. "All right. What do your parents really mean when they say, 'I love you'?"
Maggie raised her hand excitedly, forgetting momentarily that she had decided she didn't like any of this and wasn't going to play the game. "I know! I know!" She took a deep breath. "They mean we make them really, really, really happy all the time!"
Hook shook his head. "Really, really, really wrong! Sorry, you flunk." He turned to Smee. "Give her an F."
Smee took a quill with red ink and marked a huge F on Maggie's blank sheet of paper.
"Hand me Pan's dossier, Smee," ordered Hook, ignoring the stricken look on her face.
Maggie's face crumpled. "He gave me an F. I never got an F before on anything?"
"Stop complaining," muttered Jack.
Hook was paging through a thick folder that Smee had handed him, shaking his head. "What do we have here? Broken promise after broken promise. What sort of father is he, Jack?" He watched Jack's eyes snap up. "Your father went to little Maggot's school play, didn't he? But did he go to your baseball game? No, of course not. He missed the most important event in your young life, didn't he?"