Nothing!
Flushed with anger, his eyes gone to slits, he charged through the cabin door and out onto the quarterdeck.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
He wheeled about, following the sound up the side stairs to the aft deck and Long Tom, his entire body twitching rhythmically now.
It couldn't be back, could it? Not after he'd finally done it in? Not after he'd stuffed and mounted it in the square?
Hook's eyes scanned the empty deck wildly, then settled at last on the hammock where Jack Banning lay asleep.
Slowly, cautiously, Hook approached, hearing the ticking grow louder with every step. He stopped when he reached the boy, shaking as if he were caught naked in a blizzard. His claw stretched out in tiny jerks, closer to the boy, closer, and then deep into his pocket.
When it reappeared, the pocket watch Peter Banning had given to his son was snagged on its tip.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
The steady, monotonous, horrid sound built inside Hook's head. The second hand jerked and stopped, jerked and stopped. Hook held the watch up between his finger and thumb, regarding it as he might a poisonous snake. His entire body was shaking and his eyes had gone as red as fire. Hook's face changed from something merely frightening to something hideous. He moved forward as if in a trance, and his shadow fell over the sleeping Jack. Slowly, deliberately, he raised the hook.
In that instant Jack awoke. His eyes opened, still heavy with sleep, and through the yawn that squinched his eyes almost shut, he saw the terrible, menacing form that towered over him. His eyes snapped open, caught sight of Hook's face and claw, and went shut again instantly. Cowering beneath his covers, he cringed, expecting…
"No, Cap'n! Keep yer powder dry, sir!" Smee's hand deftly closed over the watch, muffling the ticking sound to near silence. "Cap'n," he pleaded hurriedly, "the lit'le imp di'n know any better."
Hook's eyes shifted abruptly and settled on his bosun, causing the other to shrink back in spite of himself. Then the madness faded, and the anger died away. Hook straightened, nodding. His smile was gruesome.
"Yes, Smee, quite right. Penalize our guest for the accidental importation of contraband? Bad form!"
The smile wavered through gritted teeth as he extracted the watch from Smee's uncertain hand. "Only one place for this, Jack, lad," he announced to the boy, whose eyes were still as big as saucers. "To the museum at once!"
He hauled Jack out of the hammock with a thunderous laugh, clasping an arm about the boy so that the wig curls danced on his nose and made him sneeze. They threw on their pirate clothes and off they went, Hook hand in hand with Jack and Smee trailing. Down the gangplank and onto the wharf, down the wharf and through the tunnel, out of the tunnel and onto the pier, along the pier and through the pirate town and crowds of anxiously fawning pirates until at last Hook turned them into a cavernous, dark old hulk that seemed entirely deserted of traffic. As they entered they passed from the clamor of a circus midway into a churchlike silence.
But this was no church. It was a monstrous room filled with clocks of all sizes and shapes. Some were old and some new. Some were large and some small. Some were stately grandfathers and some upstart alarms. Some were for the wrist and some for the pocket. They were made of wood with gold and silver inlaid and of plastic and metal with bright patterns. Some bore the faces of sun and moon, others of mice and men. They hung from the walls and they lay on tables. They stood alone like sentries and they crouched on metal bands like insects. They were everywhere you looked, hundreds of them, perhaps thousands. Jack stared about in wonder at the incredible array.
Then all at once he realized that something was wrong. It took him a moment to realize what it was.
None of the clocks worked.
Hook lifted his arm and swept the room possessively. "My own, personal, wonderful museum. Jack! Isn't it grand! A bounty of broken clocks! Once, each tick-talked, and now-no more. Now all is well. Listen, lad."
Jack looked about doubtfully. "I don't hear anything."
"Exactly! That's just the point!" Hook was euphoric. He charged across the room to a particularly garish old clock with a mix of emeralds and fishes carved into its wood surface. "This was Barbecue's very own bedside clock. Quite the terror of the seven seas was Barbecue. Almost as feared as myself!" Hook's grin was enormous. "I smashed his clock right after I keelhauled him!"
Aside, to Smee, he added, "But a very polite man, Barbecue, right to the very end."
Smee grinned back. "Aye, Cap'n. A right salty old scag for a devil's cut! And his ship made such a pretty bonfire against the water's blue."
The two erupted in laughter, hanging on each other for support. Jack, recovered now from his earlier fright, found himself intrigued anew by this latest wonder. He picked up Barbecue's clock to examine it. As he did so the broken hands clicked suddenly, sharply against each other.
Hook sprang back instantly, disengaging himself from Smee, whirling about wildly, the terror returned to his eyes. "What's that? Smee, what do I hear? No! A ticking! A ticking, Smee!"
Smee had hold of him instantly. "Cap'n, no, there's no ticking here, nothing left to tick, by my bones, all's plainly pulverized…"
But Hook was having none of it. He snatched Barbecue's clock from Jack's hands and smashed it anew. He pounded it with his claw and threw it on the floor. Jack stared in amazement, mouth open.
"Very well!" declared Hook, stepping back, tricorne and wig askew. Primly he straightened them. "This is for the ticking that might have been!" He began jumping up and down on the broken pieces. "And this is for dinner being late last night!"
He stopped suddenly and glanced over at Jack, a sly glint coming into his cold eyes. "Care to join me, my boy?" he asked, and casually tossed Jack his pocket watch. "Go on. You know what to do."
Jack stared at him for a moment, and the fire in Hook's eyes seemed to transfer to his own. He held the watch up, regarded it somberly for just a moment, then dashed it to the floor.
"This is 'cause I always have to be home for dinner!" he cried exuberantly, joining in the game. ' 'If I'm hungry or not!"
Hook laughed merrily and tossed the boy another clock. Jack threw it to the floor and jumped on its face. Hook tossed him another and another. Jack threw them all down, smashing each one anew.
"Come on, Jack!" Hook encouraged. "That's the lad! Now break a window! Break a window!"
Hook snatched up a clock and hurled it at the closest window, shattering the glass. Without thinking, Jack followed suit, smashing another. Together they threw clocks at windows, at other clocks, and at anything else they could find, reveling in the sound of breaking glass and collapsing works. Smee leaped up and down behind them, urging them on gleefully.
"This is for brushing my teeth!" raged Jack, his hair and eyes wild, his face sweating. "And for combing my hair! And washing my hands! And making less noise! And not talking so much! And for being told to grow up!"
"And for having a fat, old Pan for a Daddy!" howled Hook, hauling down a whole armful of clocks and scattering them every which way.
"Who wouldn't save us!" Jack cried in sudden despair. "Who wouldn't save us!"
"Who wouldn't even try!" hissed Hook, almost in his ear.