Always a sailor of the high seas

'And then our ship had to be abandoned. Over run by pirates it was! Yes, I was lucky to be alive. But our vessel...'1

'…She never saw the light of day again.' The rest of the tavern finished his sentence.2

'Honestly Jack, if we've heard that story once we've heard it a thousand times.' Bernie Mc' Crack laughed earning a muffled agreement from the rest of the tavern.3

' Aye, but ya still listen don't ya?' Jacks rough Scottish accent rung out through the old building.4

'Do we have a choice?' Bernie laughed again, slamming his tankard of ale onto the wooden table.5

A small door that lead into the back room of the tavern opened and a small boy, no older then twelve clambered through, arms stacked with dirty dishes ready to be washed.6

'Grant my lad, come here and tell these folks.'7

'Tell them what granddad?'8

'You tell 'em, you just tell ‘em!' He winked coyly at his grandson who had no idea what he was talking about.9

'Ignore your grandfather Grant. He talks nonsense!' Martha, his grandmother came from the back room with more plates and ushered Grant away from his grandfather.10

'Just you all remember... He'll tell ya!'11

'Arr, Jack!' Martha shouted causing her spouse to stand up and carefully make his way upstairs to his room. Over the next hour the tavern emptied. Grant and Martha were still washing dirty plates long after all the evenings customers had gone.12

'Go and lock the door lad, that’s a good 'un.' She bustled upstairs leaving Grant to lock up and extinguish the candles. He had always lived with his grandparents. His mother died giving birth to him and his father, well, who knew? He was gone and by the looks of things he wasn’t planning on returning. Having locked the door he began on the candles. One by one, as the candles light diminished the room grew dimmer. Just as he was about the kill the last flame he heard a voice. The voice of a young girl. It was extremely melodic and Grant froze listening hard.13

"I saw three ships a-sailing in from across the sea14

Strangers ne'er were welcome but for curiosity15

But come they did and when they did ready they did stand 16

And things would never be the same in our Village on the Sand..."17

The voice faded out into nothing. There was a small noise as though someone was trying to whistle and the last candle went out.18

Grant said nothing to Martha or Jack. He put it down to exhaustion. He was very tired lately and must have imagined it all. He didn't hear any voice! It was all in his head, it had to be. He planned to ignore the night’s events and throw himself into his work of cleaning the tavern.19

Midday came around slowly. All morning Grant had been washing the tables, failing to rid them of the dirt accumulated over the many years. It wasn't moving and he had just about given up when his grandfather came down the wooden stairs, his cane making a heavy thudding sound with each step upon which it landed.20

'I’d give up to. They're stained. That dirt’s not moving. I'd do something useful if I were you.'21

'That was just what I was thinking.'22

'Great minds think alike my lad, great minds think alike.' He winked at Grant and took his usual seat by the window looking out over the bay.23

The ships moved slowly in and out of the port carrying everything from people to food and many other a cargo. Staring out of the window, Jack hummed to himself clearly thinking of his days on the great ship, Black rose.  He had many tales of pirates and sea monsters, Aztec gold and buried treasure. Grant had heard every one of them. And loved to hear them again and again. Grant moved on to the task of moving the chairs down from on top of the tables. He moved quickly and with quarter of an hour the task was completed and he took a seat next to his grandfather. 24

"When the ships pulled in to dock the villagers did hide25

When trouble came it usually was brought upon the tide26

When the pirates disembarked they were making plans27

And from then on things were not the same28

In our village on the sand"29

Grant straightened up listening intently to his grandfather’s soft words. They were barely audible but Grant heard every last syllable. He listened harder, straining his ears but his grandfather sung no more, only hummed the tune. Grant picked it up quickly and hummed along with his Grandfather making the odd mistake but catching on quickly.30

"The smugglers came into your town and many sought to run31

I stood my ground bravely and came face to face with one32

Time and travel on the seas weathered face and hand33

He was different than the others in34

My village on the sand"35

That verse had a great impact on Grant. He saw a young girl no older then thirteen moving effortlessly through a sea of panic stricken villagers. Her long hair hung past her waist, her silk dress dragging across the cobbles and mud. She walked towards the docks like a puppet on strings, as though being controlled, following him. Her lips moved and her voice quiet but clear. She sung softly.36

"He told me of the years he’d spent on the stormy seas37

Then he spoke of a poet’s words of philosophy38

And when he had to leave again he asked me for my hand39

And I knew that I’d never see again40

My village on the sand"41

She reached out and grabbed the strangers hand. Screams filled Grants mind and he covered his ears trying to block out the noise.42

' My village on the sand...' Whistled through his ears. The same voice he heard the night before. The voice of the little girl he had just witnessed leaving her home.43

'Grant? Grant? What's wrong lad?'44

'It was, it was...' He scrambled round onto his hands and knees, realising he was on the floor but not remembering how he got there. He pointed a finger at his grandfather.45

'You. Her.' He stammered. 'That poor little girl.'46

Jack lowered his head and looked at his feet.47

'I'm not proud of it son. I didn't want to. I tried. I really tried but I had to take her.' He broke down. Pulling out his dirty old handkerchief, he blew his nose hard.48

'But you were, you were...'49

'A pirate. One of ol' Rasters crew. First mate I was. But pirate blood don't run through my veins. My dad he was against anyone who was associated with pirates. He died. I was only a young 'un. I hated him for leaving me. So I became one of the people he hated most. I wanted to hurt him, just like he hurt me.'50

'But why her? Why that girl?'51

'We went around villages. We burnt the buildings to the floor, wreaked havoc. We wanted fear. Everyone had a reason to be scared o' us. From every village we took a young one. Always a lady. They went through hell on our ship they did. They belonged to one of the crew; soon everyone had a lady but me. When you had a lady you could do what you wanted with her. Needless to say as soon as the crew member they were with was satisfied, the lady was no more.'52

Grant was horrified. His own grandfather. A blood thirsty pirate.53

'As I said, I was the only one wi'out a lady. We landed on the shores of a village. The village was on a beach, hence the name. I saw this young lady and she was...' There was a long pause in which no one made any sound. '... beautiful. I wanted her. I needed her. But I couldn't hurt her. I found out her name was Rose. Rose Richmond. I took her but I looked after her. Made sure she wa' ok and everything. I loved 'er. But my crew. They knew I wa' soft wi' her. One night they took her, and they killed her. Then they turned on me. I took her body and I left.'54

'Left, but you were in the middle of the ocean?'55

'I was a strong lad. Swam all the way to this village. Been here ever since. I avoided everything to do with pirates and I had a fair enough life from then on.'56

'But what about the girl?' There were so many thoughts going through Grants head, he didn’t know what to ask, what to say. He just watched his grandfather brake down into his dirty old handkerchief.57

Jack was found dead the day after his confession. Suicide. Grant had found out that his grandfather had given Rose's body a proper burial when he had arrived in the small village. Grant entered the small graveyard behind the church. He laid down a single rose. He felt the cold stone on his skin and rested his head against it. His fingers traced the writing, engraved into the rock. After a while he stood up and left.58

Here lies Jack Mulligan - 83 years59

Much missed 60

Now at rest with his love Rose Richmond - 14.61

Always a sailor of the high seas.62