To New Old Acquaintances

The sun was at the highest point in the day, leaving nary a shadow to be cast anywhere on the mostly desolate beach. The old man gingerly strolling up the western shore didn’t mind this however. He merely smiled to himself as he watched a small figure in the distance flicker about the shallow wash like a fawn. On the island, this became one of his most beloved activities, and he grew to know the area well. So it was peculiar to him, that he should eventually come upon a small rowboat, washed ashore and turned upon its side, acting as a sort of small crawl space.

The old man came closer to find to his surprise there was a man within. Not only was there a person, but the man instantly scurried out of the shade at him, as though he were waiting all this time for just this moment. He had a weapon. The young man lunged at the older, saber flashing in the noon light. The unarmed man deftly avoided every swing and thrust, moving barely an inch from the blade with each step.

“Your end has come pirate! Prepare yourself for vengeance has found its hand with which to strike!”

The young man pulled now a second shorter blade from his leather belt and attacked once again.

“Would you stop for a moment! You don’t know what you’re doing.” The older man replied.

“I know exactly what I am doing, and more importantly, for what reason. Your blood is the only thing that shall atone for your crimes!”

“Please boy, you must stop this!”

“Coward! You would plead for your life now? Had ever you lent mercy upon cries for peace, as you wish your own granted now?”

The next thrust was not only avoided, but as if by magic, deflected entirely. The boy found himself one blade short, and the old pirate advancing upon him with a gaze of ice. Three quick movements found him on the sandy beach with the first sword inches from his grasp. The sun’s light blotted out by the large shadow of the old man, as he stood over him with his newly acquired blade at the young man’s throat.

“I don’t plead for my life boy. I was pleading for your own.”

“Papa!”

In a blur, the young man on his back witnessed the old man spin and suddenly found that both blades had disappeared somewhere in the sand. He moved up to his elbows slowly still aware that the old pirate could easily reveal the blades and finish what he had started. Then came the child.

“Papa! Look et wha I fond up the coast there. Aren’t they purty Papa?”

“Oh look at that! Call me a liar if I dare say that I’ve seen a prettier pair of shells in all my years. Perhaps if you’re a good lass, you can ask your mother to make up some fine jewelry for you later.”

“Earwings even?”

“Well, you’re a tad young for that still, but we’ll see. Go on home and show them to mama though alright?”

“Aye papa.”

The small girl stumblingly ran off away from the beach toward a quaint little hut not fifty paces from where the pair were.

“You’ve a child.” The boy said.

“Aye…three actually.”

The old man held his hand out for the boy. The younger man sent his gaze toward the waters to avoid the other’s. With a heavy breath, the pirate grasped him by one elbow and pulled him up quickly to his feet. While the two simultaneously dusted him off some, he ripped his arm from the old man’s grip.

“Don’t think this changes anything pirate.”

“I don’t.” He replied, producing the two blades from under the sand and pushing them into the young man’s arms before turning to walk toward his small home. He turned back about halfway and looked at the boy.

“You look hungry boy. My wife makes a stew which I have yet to find an equal for. Come along.”

The boy stared, distrusting but followed along shortly after, feeling his stomach clench at the mere mention of a meal.

The young man sat, still on guard, at a small square table. It was poorly crafted, and was very uneven, but due to the way the bowls and plates all seemed crafted of equally dubious materials, there was no sliding, and in fact most of the utensils seemed carved to accommodate the dipping table. Each bowl or plate had a slightly higher lip on one end than the other, so that no food could escape. He thought certainly the utensils were designed by the young girl, sitting to his left. She was staring at him now, with a big smile on her face, revealing that she had several teeth still waiting to come in. He smiled back more out of courtesy than anything.

He heard footsteps coming from behind him, and for a moment believed that he had walked into some kind of pirate trap. Though the old man was seated across from him with both hands flat on the table, he felt trapped. Suddenly he felt something soft resting on his shoulder, as he spotted peripherally an arm reach out and start placing food contents on the odd table. Soon his attention shifted to his side, where a pair of rather large breasts were rubbing against his shoulder and now nearly part of his nose.

“Oh fer the love o Christ woman, yer fallin all out and over our guest.” The old man complained.

“Well if perhaps you were considerate enough to announce we’d have one, I might’ve straightened myself out a bit more first. Not much I ken do about it now though is there? Not with the laundry out to dry right now that is.” The fiery haired woman replied.

“Now I do deeply apologize to ya dear, for me to be so unkempt at the moment.” She now said directed at the boy, while she was simultaneously tugging on the strings to her blouse, to try and better hide her endowments.

The boy lost himself for a moment in the bounce and jiggle of her mounds while she struggled to put them in a place more befitting the occasion. The sound of the old man across the table clearing his throat brought him back to his senses, returning his gaze to his enemy.

“Not much fer words this one is e?” She asked, finally having herself tied securely.

“Oh I don’t know bout that. He was talkin just fine out on the beach. Maybe he’ll loosen his tongue when he’s had some stew rollin over it.”

The woman of the house, after placing the last plate of food on the table, came around the boy’s right and sat across from the young toothless girl. Once she was settled, the boy was surprised once more to feel her hand in his right, and then a smaller, softer hand enter his left palm. The four were all joined in hands, and he was the only one with his head still in an upright position. Not wanting to be disrespectful, he bowed his head as well, though still keeping the old man, now dressed in a green coat, in his sight.

“Thank you lord for the life that you have granted me and my kin. It’s a simple one, but as full as we will ever have a need for it to be. Please continue to smile down on us all. On me, on my loves Mary, Margaret, Shannon, and Gracey, wherever she may be.” The old man spoke.

“And on papa’s new friend too!” The young girl added happily.

“Aye Shannon. Thank you lord for all new acquaintances, both expected, and not so much so. May they continue, and may they end more often in friendship than otherwise.”

“Amen.” The three echoed.

“Amen.” The boy followed.

The girl, the lady, and the old man all began to devour their stew and portions of bread. The boy, though immensely hungry, was still skeptical as to the nature of his own serving of food.

“Something wrong dear?” The lady asked him.

“No ma’am, just…”

“Here.” The old man reached across the table and switched his own bowl for the younger man’s.

“Now what the bloody…where are your manners these days Owen!?”

“Well look now Mary, you gave the lad too many vegetables in his stew is all, and too much meat in me own. I’m just making it all fair. A growing boy needs meat to grow strong, and an aging dog like me needs to be a bit more mindful of taking in some greenery.”

“I apologize again for this man.”

“No ma’am, it’s perfectly alright.” The boy replied, digging into the stew with his crooked spoon, and popping a heap into his mouth.

The boy was surprised. For one, there were no shards of glass, or chunks of lead, or any other noticeable tricks hidden in the food, but for another, the old man was true in that this was the best stew he’d ever tasted. Both ladies of the table were mesmerized at the appetite on the somewhat scrawny stranger. The old man merely smiled into his meal as he ate in a far more controlled manner. The boy had finished the whole contents of the bowl, and was in the process of wiping it clean with his bread as a sponge, when he was brought back to the table by a giggle coming from his left. Suddenly aware he had an audience, he regained some composure, wiping at his face with a hand and then slowly pushing his bowl a little away from himself.

“Would you like another bowl dear?” Mary asked.

He looked at her a moment, and though his stomach answered a resounding yes, he shook his head.

“No thank you ma’am.”

“You’re sure? We have more than enough.”

“Ah, let the boy alone Mary. A man’s got to watch himself with cookin like yers. Before he knows it, his seconds turn to thirds, and his fourth turns to this.” The old man said slapping at his belly as he pushed it out purposefully for effect. The little girl let out a laugh.

Without realizing it, the boy smiled a little bit before catching himself once more.

“So, no worries lad, you just go on ahead and take a load off in the main room. I’ll be done in a bit and we can go ahead and get ourselves reacquainted.”

The young man did just that, excusing himself as politely as possible to the lady of the house, and even depositing his dish onto a counter top near a pair of buckets full of water. He entered into the common room, which, from the outside he would’ve guessed to be quite small, but found it to be more than accommodating for the size family that resided there now. The boy was weary, and without entirely meaning to, found himself becoming very comfortable in a strangely out of place chair in the corner. His eyes sealed shut and he was lulled into sleep with the sounds of the beach, and the jungle surrounding the house.