The Captain was stymied. Bloodthirsty cut-throats were one thing, but the bitter teasing of Ms. Walling's 2nd grade class was more than he could take. "Class, please, is that any way to treat a new friend!" Ms. Walling snapped at the children, standing from behind her desk to rap her knuckles against the chalkboard over her students stifled laughter. "Now William, your doing just fine, please continue." The Captain nervously adjusted himself in the tiny seat he had been given. Though he wasn't a large may by any respect, the chairs, desk, pencil sharpener, even the door knobs in the entire building were obviously built with someone of a much smaller stature in mind. He swallowed hard and, wiping the sweat from his brow, he cleared his throat and began again reading from his essay. It had been a long time since the Captain had written something. Sure there was the occasional letter to be passed along when the ship reached port, and of course the daily entries in the ship's log, but compared to the writing he had done in school as a boy it hardly seemed like writing at all, at least at first. Ms. Walling had asked for everyone to write a three page story about something they had done on vacation. While most of the other students described trips they took with their parents to some place called the Grand Canyon, apparently quite different from the Grand Cayman's from the sound of it, or to a strange country in the West ruled by a Mouse, the Captain decided to write of the three weeks he spent marooned on Easter Island. He described how the 5 new crewman he had picked up in Gibraltar had locked his senior men in the hold, and insight them men to mutiny. And how they dropped the Captain along with his mates on the Island to die in the sun. His story seemed to be going over well until he mentioned the giant stone heads sprouting about the island like huge plants. Despite his instances to the contrary, Susan Jerkins rejected the whole idea of giant heads outright, and her resolve seemed to spread through the ranks with astonishing speed. Questions quickly precipitated into jeering rhymes from a group of boys in the back corner next to the globe. It was all very strange after all. How was an island full of giant stone heads any less believable than an Kingdom of Magic with giant spinning tea cups. When the Captain finished, Ms. Walling lead everyone in a short round of clapping, and then she called the next student's name, Tommy Larch, to read his essay aloud to the class. As Tommy spoke, Summer, the little black haired girl with the the desk next to the Captain's tugged on his sleeve. As the Captain looked down, she handed him a drawing in crayon of a small green island with big red heads like tomatoes lining its edge, and a small bearded figure with a red scarf and a captain's hat standing besides them. "That's you," whispered Summer as she pointed at the page, "Did the heads look look that? Red like the Grand Canyon?" The Captain smiled. "Aye, tis a fine render'n of the ol' Captain lassie. A, no, the great heads were tall and thin, like, like an egg plant. And as grey and cold as weather worn wood of a ships hull." Summer passed the Captain a sheet of her paper and a package of crayons.