Napoleon's Hook

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
A passenger on a train meets a strange character.

Submitted: December 25, 2006

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Submitted: December 25, 2006




The train clinkered on towards its destination, the city of Halifax, on the East Coast of Canada.

 One of its passengers was a twenty-year-old man named Jason MacLean.  He had brown hair; long at the sides and back, but short at the front; not as dark as his matching corduroy jacket and pants, not as light as his tan shirt, but as brown as his eyes.  He was alone in the bar car drinking a beer and reading a book on Napoleon Bonaparte when a bearded young man, in a red plaid shirt and blue jeans and with a beer in his hand, sat down at his table across from him and interrupted his solitude.“I see you’re reading a book on Napoleon,” he said.  “I knew Napoleon.  I served in his army in one of my past lives.”‘Oh, oh,’ thought Jason, ‘oh, oh.’“I was a corporal in Napoleon’s army and the few times that I saw him he always had his right hand in his coat.  I asked my sergeant why Napoleon always had his hand in his coat.  And you know what he told me?”The bearded man never gave Jason a chance to answer, he just continued on.“He told me that Napoleon had a hook for a hand.”  "A what?" asked Jason.“You know, a hook,” he said as he took a swig of beer.  “The kind worn by Captain Hook in that Peter Pan movie.  The sergeant told me that Napoleon lost his right hand while fighting in Egypt.  And because he was self-conscious of it, he always hid it so that others couldn’t see it.” “I saw Napoleon about half a dozen times and I always hoped that he would take his hand out of his coat so that I could see the hook.  But he always kept his hand in his coat and I always wondered what that hook looked like.  The sergeant said he saw it and said that it was made of silver and very shiny.”“I died forty years after the Napoleonic Wars, and all that time I believed that Napoleon had a hooked hand.  I told people that he had a hook for a hand and nobody believed me; they thought I was crazy.  I went to my grave believing it to be true and it wasn’t until I was reincarnated again that I found out it was a lie.”“When I was a soldier I wondered what it was like for Napoleon to wear that thing.  One time I saw him get all excited and he was on his white horse and he galloped away really fast.  I said to myself ‘Boy, he better watch himself, if he forgets about that hook and accidentally sticks it into his stomach he could rip his guts out.”Although Jason had not finished drinking his beer he left it behind as he got up to leave.“Are you leaving already?” asked the bearded man.“You betcha,” said Jason.‘If there’s one thing I hate,’ thought Jason, ‘it’s meeting people who are psycho.’

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