A Halloween Tale

[Milu]

In the naval battle of Port Ocai the ship called the Saracen was sunk. One of the sailors, I’ll call him Pecard, even if I’m not sure of his name, saved himself by hanging on to a piece of wreckage. As the battle went on like a game of chess for many days, both fleets circling and trying to gain an advantage. The weather turned and a storm came out of the east. The wreckage Pecard clung to was pushed and blown further away from both friendly and enemy ships. After the first day in the water Pecard could barely see the ships and was passing in and out of consciousness. He had regrets in his life, the way he had let down his wife, the things he had not taught his son, how little he would be leaving them to live a life. He was indifferent to the war and did not understand what it was about, he did not understand why he should be working to sink sailors who he was sure did not understand why they were supposed to be sinking him.
Pecard opened his eyes and saw he was on an olden wooden boat, he thought it was too small to be called a ship. He saw there were some sitting around him, the captain, at least he thought it was the captain as he was the only one wearing a cap, and three crewmen, he saw another two men working further away. “Good day mate, we just fished you up,” said the captain, we’d better get you below into some dry clothes and some hot soup inside you.”
Pecard did not understand the boat he was on, the captain and crew seemed much like sailors anywhere even if they were more morose than most, but that could be caused by the cold wet weather and the dampness of the boat. What troubled him was that he did not understand the purpose of the boat; it was not a military craft or a fishing boat. It had too small a cargo area to be a serious merchantman, perhaps a smuggler? He asked the captain on his second day where they were bound and where they could leave him to make his way home or rejoin his fleet. The captain replied that they were bound for Ciabra, a port Pecard had never heard of; when they arrived they could take a view on what best to do. Alternatively, perhaps Pecard would care to join the crew?
On the fifth day Pecard was taking the night watch with one of the crew, Oli, he was at the wheel. The weather had broken and a shaft of moonlight played across the deck. In the moonlight Oli’s look changed, it was nothing overt, but it was enough for Pecard to see it. The eyes seemed wild, his expression frantic and his lips pulled back in a grimace of terror and despair. It was the change to normal when a cloud blocked the moon that frightened Pecard even more.
“Yes,” the captain said. “The moonlight shows what is inside. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”
Pecard had not heard the captain come up behind him and did not get the chance to reply before the captain turned and silently went below again.
The next day Pecard waited for the captain to approach him, he did not even if there had been lots of opportunities. When the first mate issued the daily tot of rum, the ship followed English navy custom in this the crew had told him gleefully on his first day, Pecard went and sat with Oli, the crewman he normally teamed with, the man he saw change in the moonlight the previous night. They were both off-watch and had some leisure.
“The captain spoke to me last night.”
“That he would, he wants another crewman as I’ll be leaving the ship soon. Think carefully of your choices. There’s no going back once it’s done. I’m going back to my bunk.”
With that last word he walked away. Pecard saw the look that passed between captain and crewman as the crewman crossed his path. Pecard instead decided to explore the cargo area of the boat hoping to learn something from the contents. He was disappointed. All he found were crates carefully filled with clear bottles containing a clear golden liquid. “Well that clears up nothing,” he said to himself” Bit it did make a kind of sense, a small fast boat transporting small high value items, the bottles were probably filled with an exotic liquor for the rich, contraband as well most likely.
“Enough of these mysteries” he thought and went up to the captain.
“You wanted to talk you said”
“Quite so. Come down to my cabin.”
The captain’s cabin was like the rest of the vessel, cold and damp, it was small and simply furnished. The captain removed a bottle and two small pewter mugs from a cabinet. “Black rum from Madagascar, it goes to the head a bit but it keeps out the cold and damp.”
“By now you will have gathered that this is no ordinary vessel and no ordinary crew. When we picked you up, you were near dead”
The captain paused and waited for Pecard to drink more of his rum. Pecard felt it going to his head, he could no longer properly feel the deck beneath his feet, the room seemed to be moving around but he felt warm and relaxed.
“I am simply the captain and I answer to the owners of the vessel. Our task is to collect the souls of the drowned and bring them to their final resting place. The terms are quite straightforward, you must choose: Either ten years before you start serving to settle your affairs and then serve for one hundred years or serve one hundred years and then leave with a very full purse and ten years to enjoy it. Those are the only two choices. A third choice perhaps would be to jump overboard, drown and end up now in one of the bottles you saw. I will have your choice before we make port.”
The captain picked up a chart and Pecard understood he had been dismissed. He staggered back to his bunk, his head spinning from the black rum and the significance of the boat and crew, he knew that fantastical as it seemed the vessel had collected the souls of the drowned and was now delivering them.
Again on the night watch he was at the wheel and on duty with Oli. “The captain told me about the terms last night. What is to stop a man abandoning ship?”
Oli laughed. “The ports we stop at are well enough for a spot of shore leave but I doubt you would want to stay. Not only that, the oath you take on swearing service binds you to captain, vessel and mission like a geas. I signed on at the point of death to avoid damnation for a bit longer, I’d led a wicked life, I took my ten years and did worse and now I go to pay the piper. But lad, there is more. What the captain has not told you is that the souls we collect are both the innocent and the guilty. There is a high value in innocent souls that drowned in some of the ports we visit and the captain sells them. I don’t think the owners know, I don’t know if they care or if they get their cut. What I’m sure is that it’s the way to damnation for those involved” Pecard looked at Oli, something was wrong, he seemed to be turning wooden, hardly moving, as if in a daze he moved to the side and with sudden energy jumped. Pecard ran to the side and looked over in time to see Oli being pulled into a rowboat which was rapidly rowed away into the mist.
“A row boat?” Pecard thought. A row boat to him meant they had to be close to land. He kept the damned boat on the course he had been given and kept looking in the mist for a sign of land. Pecard had an idea that there was still some hope of escape. When his eye saw the brightness of a lighthouse he set a new course aiming straight for it. The boat was wrecked on rocks but Pecard had jumped and managed to swim ashore. As soon as he had his breath back Pecard started walking away from the sea. Within hours he found he had walked to a port he knew. The news was the war was over, he could go home. There was no word of a wreck near a nearby light house. Pecard did not tell his tale, just that he had clung to some wreckage and been washed ashore.
Ten years later Pecard was a partner in a successful ships chandlers’ and his son was working with him. He had a house in town that did not overlook the sea, he and his wife were happy. Working at his desk he felt a slight numbness in his left shoulder. First sign of age he thought, must be the autumn damp. In the following days it worsened and started to feel a slight squeezing round his neck as well. He tried wearing a woollen scarf but that seemed to make it even worse, removing it he found it cold and clammy to the touch.
Pecard was working late as he often did. He finished checking the new stock and decided it was enough for one day. He had already eaten but did not want to go home yet. He decided to walk home the long way passing the wharf where the sailor’s bars were. A tot of hot rum seemed like a good idea on a cold damp night. Rum helped in the damp. Pecard looked at the different grog shops as he walked, he seemed to have a weight on his shoulder and around his neck, it seemed to be getting worse. Tomorrow, he decided he was going back to the doctor. He stopped outside the window of one bar before deciding to go in and saw his reflection in the glass with the moonlight behind him. He was not alone. A cold, wet skeletral figure was leaning on him. A figure from ten years ago, the captain.
“Mr Pecard. I believe it has been ten years.” A raspy voice said. “I have a new ship for you to serve on. But first I and the owners wish to discuss how you will pay for the vessel and cargo you sank.”
Pecard fell to his knees screaming. When men came out to see what was happening there was no one there.

[Vagrant]

That is excellent and most appropiate for this holiday

[natcherly]

What is really scary is that the owners didn't bother to acquire insurance on the vessel and cargo...

All kidding aside, great story with lots of atmosphere.

[tr4252]

Terrific story.

A Salty Dog by Procol Harum might be good background music.

Tom

[gramps]

That is excellent and most appropiate for this holiday

What happened to; Quote, posts [really] should be like a skirt - long enough to cover the subject adequately and SHORT enough to be interesting. Unquote


Half way through I got bored reading it because it was so long, but I had to finish because I had to find out where it was going, only to be disappointed with the ending.

Other than that, the story was most appropriate for this occasion, being Halloween, but the ending wasn't so good. The long story was building me up for a much bigger ending, and I was disappointed with it. No offense anyone. Nobody asked for my opinion, I was just giving it, that's all. Glad it's over, Halloween that is. Can't stand it. I loved it when I was a kid.

[natcherly]

... The long story was building me up for a much bigger ending, and I was disappointed with it.

Jeez, everyone is a literary critic these days.

For short stories with zippy, surprise endings, how about O. Henry? The author not the candy bar

[Viking45]

That was a great story. Very creepy.

[tr4252]

Had fun this year; got a woman to help me with the trick or treaters, had an interesting "date" like an old TV sitcom. Wish I'd thought of this years ago.

Tom

p.s. I read O'Henry, then saw the commercial. Was very disappointed, as it was not true to the wrapper.

[Milu]

Thanks for the comments. It's an excerpt from a book I've written where two of the main characters like telling ghost stories. I'm trying to get it published (currently I'm rewriting it)

gramps, sorry you got bored, but it can't have been that bad if you had to see how it finished How would you have had it end?

[gramps]

gramps, sorry you got bored, but it can't have been that bad if you had to see how it finished How would you have had it end?

Dear Milu, please don't feel that your story had bored me just because I said it did. I was in an asinine mood and no matter what I read on the forum that day, I was going to say something negative about it...In other words, I was a big ass, (asinine) saying that. Did you ever get in a mood like that? Sometimes, did you ever say something you wish you never said, well I did! And it was about your wonderful story, that I did indeed have to finish to find out the ending, and I was wrong saying that I was bored because I really wasn't, please forgive me Milu, I'm sorry. It actually is a very good scary story.

[Milu]

Gramps, nothing to forgive and I wouldn't take offence. Not everyone likes the same kind of story. I just hoped people enjoyed it and if not could tell me why. I'm working very hard to try and improve my writing and get published.

That kind of day? I have days when I head up high in the mountains to avoid all human contact, I am a ranking expert at saying and writing the wrong thing and rushing in where angels fear to tread

[gramps]

Thank you Milu,...And you are a good writer too no matter what jerky people like me say.

[Knife Crazied]

Love it!

[redeye]

i enjoyed the story a lot. a nice change from all the kung-fu machinegun shooting ax murderer gang raping pistol whipping childmolesting crap ya get on t.v. these days thanx

[whippersnapper]

Good read, milu