So in that post, Daniel promised the story and I've finally finished it. There's still some more work that can be done, but I figured it was good enough for now. I'm totally open to any kind of feedback or critique. In total, this story is a little over 8100 words long. I figured you, the reader, wouldn't want to read all that in one sitting so I'm just going to post the first 2500 words. If you want more, you're going to have to leave a comment and ask nicely. :)
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May 10, 1750
Tonight has been a strange one. I don’t spend a lot of time
writing about my days at work. They are all the same. Serve food and drink to
grabby sailors. It’s not worth the price of the paper and ink. But I do like to
write down the interesting stories I hear, and sailors always have a tale to
tell, even if it is all lies. Instead of just writing the story I heard I shall
write down everything about this night, it’s worth every drop of ink and every
scrap of paper I have left. It is not every night you hear a true telling of a
legend and then see it right before your eyes.
I will start
by saying that the old woman has been coming to The Salty Dog every night for
the past week. She comes in at about dinner time and takes the table closest to
the fireplace. Wrapped in a bulky gray shawl, her white hair a mass of tangles
around her face, she orders a mug of rum and a bowl of soup. She eats quickly
and silently and once finished she moves from the table to the old rocking
chair. The rocking chair used to be One-Hand Sam’s, the owner of The Salty Dog,
grandmother’s and when she passed he placed it by the fire to have “a place for
the weary to rest their bones”.
The old
woman rocks there all night watching the other patrons. Nothing seems to bother
her, even when a scuffle at a dice table turned into a full out brawl right
beside her, she just kept rocking and smiling. She stays there until an hour
before closing time. Then she stands and shuffles out the door without a word.
I’ve been
watching her these last seven nights and tonight I decided I’d talk to her
before she left. I made sure I was the first barmaid to her table. None of the
other girls seemed to care because the old woman didn’t tip much.
“What can I
get for ya, Grandmother?” I asked as I brushed some crumbs off the table.
She looked
up at me and smiled, the winkles around her mouth and eyes deepening in her
brown face. Most of her teeth were missing. “My usual, dear. Rum and soup.”
I smiled,
nodded and headed towards the kitchen. As I passed the bar I asked Sam to pour
a mug of rum for the old woman. He nodded and I pushed my way into the hot
kitchen. It smelled of roasted pork and fresh baked bread. Weaving around a
couple of the other barmaids I grabbed a bowl from the counter and ladled the
thin chicken soup into it. As I came out of the kitchen I picked up the mug of
rum from the end of the bar and made my way back to the fireplace. A few of the
other regulars called to me as I walked across the room, but I ignored them. I
was going to get this old woman’s story. Just as I have gotten all the other’s
stories.
I set the
bowl and mug down in front of the old woman and asked if she needed anything
else. She shook her head, a spoon full of soup already in her mouth. I let her
be and attended to the other patrons but I kept an eye on her in case she
needed anything. As soon as she had emptied both mug and bowl she stood and
waddled over to the rocking chair.
I returned to her table to clean it
and then paused next to her and asked, “Is there anything else I can get you,
Grandmother? If you’re cold I can get you a blanket.”
She looked up, her jaw slack and
eyes wide, and then she smiled and shook her head. “No thank you,” she said.
She patted the gray shawl wrapped around her shoulders. “This keeps me warm
enough.” Her voice was sweet, not the voice I expected to hear from such an old
lady. Her hair and her lined face made
her look old, but her blue eyes were so bright and alive. I wondered if maybe
she was younger than she appeared. I had known sailors to look much older than
they were because they spent so much time in the open, salty sea air.
“Very well,” I said with my sweetest
smile. “You just call to me if you need me. My name’s Sara.”
Grandmother nodded. “And you may call
me Maya.”
The rest of the night passed as they
all do. I waited on more tables than I could remember. And the whole time, Maya
sat in the chair and rocked. She watched the other patrons with interest but
she never spoke to anyone, and no one took any interest in her.
At around three in the morning the
tavern began to empty. I offered to stay late and help with the closing. Sam
was helping one of the local drunkards stand.
“Sara, I’m going to help Billy here
home. I’ll lock the door on my way out and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Okay,” I called over my shoulder as
a swept the floor.
As soon as I heard the lock catch I
walked over to Maya. “We’re closing now. Do you need help getting home?”
“No dear. But can I sit here a
little longer?”
I smiled. “Of course. We can leave
together if you like.”
She returned the smile. “Thank you,
Sara. You’ve been so kind to me tonight, how about I entertain you with a story
while you finish up your work?”
“I’d like that.” I continued to
sweep near her as she started her story, but as the tale progressed I found my
self being drawn in and it wasn’t long before I was sitting at her feet like a
child.
Here is the story she told, as best
as I can remember her telling of it.
~~~
You’ve heard the legends of the Ghost Ship that plies the
waters in these parts of course. Everyone speaks of the silent ship full of
ghost that is made out of mist and moonlight and attacks the ships of pirates,
leaving only one survivor to pass the tale.
What no one
knows is how that ship and her crew became the Ghost Ship. Well I will give you
one telling of the tale. It is a sad story, but one that needs to be passed on.
There once was a man named Joseph
Walker who captained the ship Hades Hound
as a privateer. He was the best privateer in the area. Hades Hound was small and fast, a pretty little 12 gun, one mast sloop
that carried 113 tons . She was the terror of the Spanish and the French.
Captain Walker roamed the Caribbean freely and helped to protect his home in
Port Royal.
Life was
good and sweet for Captain Walker. He had a lady in Port Royal that he was
planning to marry for she was carrying his child in her belly. He was just
waiting to have enough money to buy them a little home. Once he had a house he
could settle Lilly and the baby there, where they would be safe and comfortable
and he would continue his work as a privateer.
But
everything changed in one day. It was cold and rainy. Winter was coming in and
Captain Walker knew this would be the last of the pickings for this season. He
had just attacked and gained the spoils from a fat Spanish galleon and was eager to
get his share. He figured after this payment he would have enough to marry his
girl and buy a small house.
It was a
long walk from the docks and up into the nicer parts of town where his
investor, Mr. Banks lived. In his hand he had a reckoning of all the treasure
that was sitting in the hold of Hades
Hound. With the cut he’d get from this haul combined with one more like it,
all of Captain Walker’s dreams would come true. He whistled as he walked up the
cobble stone streets.
Walker was escorted into Mr. Banks
office and stood waiting in front of his desk as Mr. Banks finished reading
over a stack of papers. Mr. Banks was a fat man who spent most of his time
sitting at a desk and looking at his account books. When he finally lifted his
small eyes, made smaller by his red puffy cheeks, from the papers and saw
Captain Walker, he grunted and held out his hand for the list of spoils.
Walker handed it over and watched in
silence as Mr. Banks marked some of the items in particular he wanted. He
handed the paper back to Walker and said, “Have those items and my cut of the
gold delivered to my warehouse, as usual.”
“Of course, Mr. Banks,” Walker
replied with a nod. “Now as to my next voyage…”
“There won’t be another one.” Mr.
Banks said, his gaze already back down at his account books.
“Excuse me, sir?”
“I said, ‘There won’t be another
one.’ I’m taking the ship back.”
“You’re taking Hades Hound from me? Why?”
“I’ve decided to put my investments
else where.”
“You can’t take her,” Walker said as
he stepped forward and leaned upon the desk. “She’s my ship.”
“No, Captain, she’s mine. I bought
her, I own her. I merely hired you to captain her.”
“I’ll buy her from you.”
Mr. Banks laughed. “You don’t have
that much money, I know it. Besides, she’s not for sale.”
“Mr. Banks, please, I’ll give you
anything I have. I—”
Mr. Banks cut him off. “Hades Hound is mine and she is not for
sale. You will take your cut of this haul, pay the crew and then dismiss them.
Good luck in your future endeavors, Mister
Walker and good day.”
Walker tried to argue more, but he
was escorted out of the building and tossed into the street but a couple of Mr.
Banks hired body guards. Cursing, he picked him self up and dusted off his
clothes. He strode back down to the docks, unaware that the dark anger in his
face made people hurry to stay out of his path.
A black rage
was slowly building with in his belly. Mr. Banks had been his investor for
nearly two years, the crew was mostly filled with the men Walker first hired. Hades Hound was Walker’s home, his way
of life. He could not imagine being without it.
Despair
began to mix with the rage. How was he going to find work now? The seasons were
changing and it was coming to the time when there were fewer ships going back
and forth between the Old World and the New. No one would be looking to hire a
captain and crew for at least three months and by then Walker would have a baby
to care for.
With his head hanging, Captain
Walker made his way to the brothel where his lady lived. He found her in her
room lying in bed, heavy with child, she only had a couple months to go before
she was delivered. She listened silently as Walker told her what happened with
Mr. Banks.
“I am sorry,
Lilly. It’s going to be a while yet before I can properly marry you and buy us
that little house you wanted,” Walker said, tears in his blue gray eyes.
Lilly sighed
and sat up on her elbow. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I’ve decided not to
marry you.”
Walker’s jaw
dropped. “What? Why not?”
“I’ve
decided to go home to my mother. I’ve written to her and she says she’ll let me
come home, even in my condition.” She paused and stared at his face. Shaking
her head, she continued, “There’s nothing for me here Joseph.”
“There’s me.
We can still get married and you can live with me. I know it’s small, and it’ll
be crowded once the baby comes, but we can still be together. I can still take
care of you.”
Lilly shook
her golden head. “It isn’t enough. I came to Port Royal to find me a rich man,
a privateer like you who could give me better than what I had. I didn’t mean to
have a baby so soon but there’s no helping that now. And since you are no
longer going to be rich, I have no need of you.”
Walker was
stunned into silence. He stared at his pretty Lilly and the black rage filled
him. Breathing hard, he shook his head to clear the blackness from the edges of
his vision.
Lilly’s face
softened. “I’m sorry Joseph. I do care about you. But I have to think about
what is best for me and my baby.”
“Your baby?
That is my baby too!” he shouted.
“You don’t
know that,” she shouted back. When he didn’t respond she continued, “I’m a
whore, Joseph. Did you truly think you were the only man that has shared this
bed with me?”
The
blackness was creeping into his vision again. If he let it get to the center of
his eyes he knew something bad would happen. Without another word he turned on
his heel and slammed the door behind him. He strode down the street and went
back to Hades Hound.
The crew was
busy unloading their haul but they all stopped and stared as their captain
stormed aboard and went into his cabin in the stern. The first mate was the
first to break the uneasy silence, his voice cracking like a whip. “Get back to
work, dogs!”
Within his
quarters was Charlie, a black slave who Captain Walker had saved from drowning
while the Hades Hound was attacking
the ship Charlie had been working on. No one else seemed to care about the
slave’s fate, but Walker took pity on the desperate man and leaped into the
water to save him. After that, Charlie had sworn to serve him until death
because of the life debt he now felt he owed to Captain Walker.
Charlie saw
the rage on his master’s face and was quick to pour him a glass of rum. Captain
Walker ignored the glass and reached around to grab the bottle.
“Somethin’
the matter, Cap’n?”
With a
growling rumble and between swigs from the bottle, Walker told Charlie about
his day. Charlie’s face fell at the news of the loss of the ship and then he
winced at the Captain’s tale about Lilly.
“So right
now,” Walker concluded, his voice already slurred, “I’d like to sit here alone
and get as drunk as possible.”
Charlie
nodded. “Very well, Captain.”
He left the
Captain there and did not see him again until morning. Charlie didn’t tell the
rest of the crew anything, even when pressed, he kept silent. It was not his
place to tell these men that they were out of a job or to air the Captain’s
personal pains.
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So as I said, I'd love to hear your thoughts. And if you really like it and want to read the rest, ask nicely. :D
Thanks for reading!
