The Locksmith
There was once an old locksmith, who lived on Padres del Fuego amid its violence and anger.
Every day, he would stand by the docks and greet the incoming ships. And query their crews about their adventures and plunder.
His fingers were skilled, and he could open any chest, any safe, any lock, and many pirates would avail themselves of his talents.
Who else could open all the chests pirates capture during their plundering?
His only companion was his cat, who grew just as old, grey, and bent as he. His old sloop sat aground next to his shack, moldering and peeling in the hot Caribbean sun.
He would spend his time playing lonely hands of blackjack against himself. And he always lost. Honey bees nested over his front door, but he let them be.
/sigh
Oh, he missed dear Clara...
Why did she leave him?
/confused
Would she ever come back?
/search
Was she looking for him just as he looked for her?
/sad
He would write Clara letters, sealing them in tightly corked bottles. And sent adrift with the tide or dispatched by friendly sailors.
/bye
But they would always return upon the strand just outside his door, unopened.
Despite his age, ladies took notice of him. He was not handsome or wealthy, but there was something about his bearing that drew fascination.
When he went into Los Padres, many women watched him. Perhaps he would make someone a good husband, they say. He's a widower, they say.
/wink
Is he a good man? Who is to know?
But he never noticed their attention.
One day, he paid a visit to Pelagia to buy a sweet doll.
"Angelo, who is the lucky wench?" the gypsy girl asked.
"My granddaughter, my sweet granddaughter," he answered softly.
/frown
He did not notice her yearning look.
Next he visited Ratskellar to get himself drunk.
/thirsty
The old salts there greeted him with a nod and gave him some distance.
After a few drinks of rum, he began to tell a story. No one asked, but when he began to speak, the tavern quieted to listen.
"There's an orphanage here in town, did ya know? Ya might not, fore it has no sign, and the children are as quiet as mice. But it's there.
/nod
When the mountain shakes, sometimes ye can hear its bell ring.
One day, I remember, the caretakers had collected enough coin to treat the sickest children to a special treat. They were to take a cruise to Port Royal. Some sort of fool festival or another. I don't know.
/shrug
Beam to stern, the ship was filled with poor sick children and their caretaker. All seeking a day in the sun. But just outside the harbor here, she began to take on water.
/nod
The orphanage had no coin to hire better passage, you see.
She began to sink. Not in deep water at all, but deep enough. Just in sight from here. The swabs in this very tavern looked out that window and watched it all happening.
/aye
That old woman, she surfaced quickly, screaming for help. But no children came up after her.
Finally men from the harbor swam and rowed out there. They swam into the ship, looking for children.
None were found. All were dead.
All were dead.
/blink
How can you tell me there is a god after seeing something like that? Tell me that, ya cursed rogues!
/arrr
If I could go back, I would change things, aye. Every night I sleep, hoping when I wake things would be back to the way they were.
That you would be with me again. I have nothing but frustration, disappointment. I need you, Clara.
I need you more than anything in the world. Loving you is the only thing I've ever done right."
And then he wept and pressed his cheek against the bar. Gently, Giladoga took him by the shoulder and led him outside.
The younger pirates in the bar scoffed, but the locals hushed them.
"Who is that old salt?"
"Don't trifle with a man like that," was the reply. "Oh, we could tell you the tales! Tales of blood and rage like you've never heard!"
The inside of his humble home was a shrine to Clara. Her clothes and trinkets and jewelry. Pictures of her he has drawn, in person and from memory.
It was a home frozen in time.
This day had been bad, and the memories nearly overwhelmed him. In drunken rage and shame, he took his sword to anything within reach. All of his furniture was shattered.
When he was finished, all that was left untouched was a heavy chest in the corner.
A chest locked with no key.
The only chest he had never been able to open.
The next day, his hands still bleeding from his fury, he packed up the little doll and sought out his granddaughter. Instead, he found his wealthy son in his high town villa.
He should be proud of such a successful pirate, but instead, the old man felt only shame.
"Where is your daughter? Where is my granddaughter?" he demanded, but his son only scoffed. What does he care for women's affairs?
Children are women's work, and he'll not dirty his hands with them.
The old locksmith slapped his son to the ground and spat upon him. "My granddaughter deserves better than you!
You and that who are wife of yours are worthless, useless, and mindless! I've a mind to take that child from you!"
"You think?" his son cried in fury. "And perhaps I'll arrange that you'll never see her again! Perhaps I'll ship her off to France or Spain! Wouldn't that be a neat trick?"
/hiss
"Do no such thing! Else I'll end you with me own hands!"
And he left his son in the dirt, tears stinging his eyes.
His wife would have blamed him for how their son turned out. Perhaps it was just as well that she died young.
She was never very pretty, nor charming, nor intelligent. He'd never loved that bride, nor their only offspring. She was all that would take him at the time.
That's what he gets for letting his one true love get away.
On his way back home, he found his granddaughter and her governess. Like the sun breaking through a storm, the weight on his heart lifted.
He held the child close and gave her the toy voodoo doll. She squealed with happiness and spun and twirled with her in a dance.
He spent the afternoon watching her play on the beach. After a while, he had difficulty seeing her for the tears...
Nobody knows the wind
Neither you nor I
But when the leaves bow down their heads
The wind is passing by
/sigh
In the days that followed, he began to realize that his cat had fallen ill, not eating or sleeping. She yowled all night in pain.
So he resolved to ask help from Pelagia. As he stepped out of his shack with the poor animal, he watched as two pirate ships collided in the harbor.
Briefly he watched as the crews brawled, ignoring their dead and injured. Blood and flesh foamed on the surf.
"What is the purpose of that life?" he wondered before turning away.
"Someday, I wish to leave all this," he said to himself, "Perhaps when Clara returns...
I would get on my boat with Clara and my granddaughter and just float away. Never to return."
Pelagia was pleased to see him again.
/happy
"Oh, Angelo, you have returned! Want you to buy another doll? I made one special for you!"
"No, I come because my cat is ill."
"Oh, I will help you with that! Like you my new dress? I don't know what colors you like, but perhaps you like these?"
"Aye, Clara once wore dresses like that."
"Perhaps she did. But she is not here, and I am."
"Aye, she is gone, and I miss her so."
/blink
"There is a place nearby, with lovely flowers and herbs. Perhaps you would like to walk there with me?"
"Herbs you say? Would they help my cat? My cat is ill, you see."
/frown
"Why are you so cruel, Angelo?" she cried.
"What is this foolishness? Why do you speak so, girl?"
"I have feelings for you, old man," she said, "but I see you do not share them. It hurts my heart like you cannot imagine.
All you can do is speak of this woman from the past. I think no one, not me, not anyone, can match her. And so you will live in loneliness.
I will care for your beloved pet, because I have agreed to. But after that, I ask you to leave me be and not attempt to share a kind word with me ever again.
I do not wish to be hurt by you any longer."
/confused
He walked away from Pelagia's wagon in a haze. What had he done? He could not remember. He could not imagine. Was he so odious and selfish?
And out of nowhere, there was his son, bloodied and frightened. His clothes slashed and torn.
"Father, please, I need your help!"
/frown
"What is it, boy? What do you want of this old man? Can you not see my heart is pained enough?"
"Father, I am not the success that you think! I am hunted by the EITC. I am friendless, without crew or ship. Soon they will capture me and take me to Kingshead for hanging."
"Boy, I have no gold, I have nothing to give you. I have no one either. This is what you get with the life you choose.
No one to talk to. No one to read the letters you send. We are alone, invisible.
At least you have a daughter, and she is worth more than all the treasure of the Caribbean."
And again, he left his son in the dirt.
A day later, he received word from Pelagia, and he rushed to her wagon.
She had cured his old cat. She had eaten small brass key, and it had bound up her insides.
Now, she was good as new, and very very hungry.
/vittles
The old locksmith was joyful, and he thanked the girl profusely. But she only turned away from him.
/blink
In a thoughtful mood, he returned home and stared at his old shack for a long time.
He had destroyed everything inside of it. Outside, his life was just as wrecked and worthless.
All he possessed of value was his cat and his granddaughter.
Lighting an oil lantern, he considered its flame,
and then he tossed it into his shack.
The flames spread quickly, and soon everything was afire.
In the flickering light, he considered his sloop. The ship that would carry him away.
Away to Clara. Or away with Clara.
Never would that happen.
So he burned the sloop as well.
The next morning, in the ashes of his hut, he found the locked chest untouched. The one thing he couldn't destroy.
He used the brass key to open its lock.
The inside was filled with bones wrapped in a gown.
Beneath it all was a letter...
Angelo, I'm sorry.
You kept me at arm's length so long with your distance, circumstances, and riddles.
Left me confused and unsure.
Clara
Also the bottle of poison she had used.
/sad
He returned to Pelagia with his cat. She blinked at him as he approached. Her lip trembled.
He stood before her, uncertain of what to say.
"Girl, I am sorry for what I have done. For I see now that I was hurting maybe the one soul here that gave a darn about me.
I am an angry man, but when I'm with you, I'm not as angry...
If you can forgive me, I'd like not to be angry any more."
She stared at him for a long time.
/bow