Faith, Me Lad

Faith, Me Lad

He bounded up the steps, two at a time and pulled up to a screeching halt. Out of breath. Doubled over and holding his sides, he finally gasped out, “You… are not… going… to believe… this!”

“What?! Look Dave, we don’t have time for this! What are you trying to pull?” I asked irritably.

“Yes. You. Do. Look out… the… window. It… it…  it’s… unbelievable,” he said, still gasping for air, then he missed the chair entirely trying to sit down.

What else could we do? We ran to the French doors opening onto the balcony three stories above Beachcombers Sound, an inlet from the Gulf of Mexico leading right up to the sleepy beach town of Beachcombers.

At first, we didn’t see anything. Then, slowly emerging from the early morning mist we saw it… no, it couldn’t be. In today’s world, that is not even remotely probable. It’s impossible!

There had to be some kind of explanation. An advertising ship announcing an upcoming play or possibly some kind of sport. Maybe someone was playing a cruel joke on us when they knew time was at a premium today.

Dave half crawled, half walked across the room to join us at the French doors. We all watched. There it was. Totally unbelievable. We all saw it.

A nineteenth-century pirate ship. Its sails were full. Its colors were flying. And it was sailing straight toward us.

I looked at the cup of coffee I was holding and wondered what was in it making me see things I shouldn’t be seeing.

The ship stopped about 50 feet from shore. Its gangplank was lowered and an honest-to-gosh pirate with a pegleg and parrot on his shoulder started down it. I turned from the door, shaking my head, and asked someone to call a doctor.

“Earl. Look. You’ve got to see this,” said Dave.

I turned back around just as the pirate reached the end of the gangplank; he kept walking through the remaining water to the beach. The sand didn’t seem to bother his pegleg at all. In fact, he walked across it as easily as anyone with two good legs.

Following close behind him was a small, black cat (who didn’t seem the least bit afraid of the water), and flying overhead was a one-eyed pelican wearing an eye patch and polka-dot bandanna on his head.

I opened the doors and walked out onto the deck. The pirate looked straight up at me and sort of tipped his hat… or so I thought.

He walked right up to the steps leading to the upper deck then turned right, heading in the direction of a local beach bar next door. The black cat and one-eyed pelican stayed with him.

This was an old beachfront area. Most of the buildings were low, one-story buildings. Many of them didn’t even have air conditioning. They just opened the windows as they did in the old days for the Gulf breeze to blow through cooling the inside. Interspersed among the homes were small, family-oriented beach bars and seafood houses. The building we were in was the only three-story building in Beachcombers.

We watched as the pirate found a vacant outdoor seat closest to our building. In front of him sat a mug of rum. Where did that come from? I thought. I looked at the others. They didn’t seem to notice, and I sure as heck wasn’t going to mention it.

He looked around the bar and straight up at us. Again, he sort of nodded.

Then he set his hat on the table, his parrot hopped off his shoulder and perched on the back of the chair. The black cat curled around his good leg, resting his head against Billy’s boot, while the pelican perched on a piling at the back of the bar, one used to tie up small craft.

He spread his wings, flapped them gently, and settled down to wait.

I shook my head, bringing myself back to what immediately needed to be done. With one last look around, I turned and walked back inside.

“All of you come on back in. I don’t know what is going on, but we definitely do not have time for this today.

“If y’all remember, I am getting married in four weeks. Fortunately, my involvement in the wedding plans is minimal. On the other hand, though, I am hip deep in planning a surprise thirty-fifth wedding anniversary gala and cruise for my parents. That is in two weeks.

“I need everyone to cover my immediate duties as CFO of BBW Shipping Enterprises. We have two major contracts coming up for consideration, and I need your full involvement to bring them to a successful conclusion.

“But first, Dave will you please get me another cup of coffee. There seems to be something wrong with this one.”

I handed Dave my cup, looked back through the glass doors toward the Gulf, and headed straight to my desk. I just don’t have time for this today, I thought to myself.

For Dave and John to cover my responsibilities, they needed my desk. So, I picked up my cell phone and folder of papers and walked outside to the little table on the deck.  

I spread out the brochures and papers I had collected over the past few weeks across the table, making sure I put something on them to hold them down due to the constant Gulf breeze—car keys, change, phone, anything I had on me.

I needed to get all this organized and finalize plans and reservations. The major outstanding event was getting my parents to Miami to catch the cruise ship and then getting them back home after the cruise.

I had already purchased first class seating for them to fly down to Miami the day after the gala. I can already hear Mom fussing about the cost. But, oh well.

I had also booked supper at an exclusive restaurant and lodging for them in a historic 1920s hotel in the famed South Beach.

(Actually, South Beach was sounding pretty good. Maybe I’d suggest it to Juliette for our honeymoon. We still hadn’t decided on a destination.)

Anyway, back to what was currently going on. 

I had spent the past two weeks trying to book the local community club for the fifteenth of the month for the gala. They were to call me today with confirmation or rejection for that date. There was some kind of conflict, but I never could find out what it was. Not important. I just needed an answer.

I did have a backup place in mind, but somehow Joe’s Fish House just didn’t seem to be what I had in mind for this party. We may be a small beach community, but honestly!

Thirty-five years was a milestone, and I truly wanted to honor my parents before I married and had more obligations. Juliette was supporting me in this, but she was up to her eyeballs in wedding preparations and did not have much time to help me with the gala other than providing a suggestion here or there. 

Planning this party, I was discovering, was as involved as planning our wedding. There were invitations to pick out and mail. There were flowers and all manner of decorating involved, once I secured a place to hold the event. And getting food vendors lined up was becoming a foray into insanity, to my way of thinking, that is.

And doing it all without mom and dad finding out. Whew!

Dave brought out a new cup of coffee for me. But I was finding it almost impossible to concentrate. There was so much to do. The breeze and water were so inviting. I’d love to walk down those stairs and just sit on the sand and chill. Not going to happen today, though. And that pirate sitting almost at the bottom of the steps was unnerving.

Every time I looked over, he seemed to be watching me. The pelican had moved. He was now sitting on the second-floor rail rather than near the bar and pirate.

And what’s this? I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Standing next to the pirate was a beautiful, pink flamingo. Just standing there, looking regal, like they do, except for one thing. He was standing on both legs… not one.

I looked inside my office. Dave and John seemed knee deep in the contracts. Good.

I wasn’t trying to break their concentration, but I called Dave and John outside, anyway, and asked them if they still saw the pirate.

“No,” said Dave, sounding quite disturbed. “What we saw earlier must have been a mirage or something. There is no one in sight other than us, that is.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Sorry I interrupted you.”

I looked across the sand. Yup. He was sitting right there.

This whole thing was getting stranger and stranger.

On the other hand, I wasn’t getting anywhere with my planning because of that pirate next door.

I shrugged my shoulders and turned back to the table. I picked up my phone to call someone, but I couldn’t remember who I needed to call. I put the phone back down. I picked up one of the cruise brochures and couldn’t concentrate on what was printed in it.

Finally giving up, I gathered it all together and put everything back into the folder. I put my phone on top to hold it down. Then I started down the steps and toward the bar next door. I had to find out what was going on.

“Ahoy, Matey,” I heard when I reached to bottom of the steps. He used his pegleg to push out the chair across from him. "Park yer backside, me hearty!"

I looked around. The pirate and I were the only two outside.

“Alright, I’ll bite. Who are you and why are you watching me?” I said rather rudely. “What kind of prank is this? I don’t have time for beer and skittles today.”

“Aaaaah, Matey. More’s the pity. So I won’t be taking up yer time, except to ask, ‘What time’s yer shindig, Matey?’ I need to get us there on time.”

“What?!?” I’ve got to figure out what kind of game this is. I don’t have the time.

“Again I ask, ‘who are you?’”

“Ye know.”

He sat back in his chair, pushed the other mug of rum in front of me, and looked at me. “That coffee ye be drinkin’ isn’t what you need. You need a tasty cup of rum,” he said.

I was really getting concerned about rum materializing from seemingly out of nowhere. There had been only one mug on the table when I sat down.

Without thinking, I picked up the mug and took a drink. Whatever it was was good, and it wasn’t rum. I don’t like rum.

“And what do you mean by shindig?” I questioned.

"Yer party? The shindig yer plannin' for yer old folks? Me and me shipmates, we aim to be there. What hour do we arrive?"

My mouth dropped open. I stared. This pirate was planning to attend mom and dad’s anniversary gala. What is he thinking? What am I thinking!?!

“Who are you?” I asked again, hoping if I got a name, maybe I could make some sense out of this.

“Ah, well. Me name’s Captain Billy Bowlegs. I am captain of the Rum-Soaked Compass anchored out there. This here be Boots,” he said, pointing to the black cat still curled around his peg leg. “And that be Cap’n One-Eye,” he said, pointing to the pelican that was now sitting on the top railing of the building next door.

“Oh, and we can’t forget Sir Flamingo. He’s the mascot of the underwater Tipsy Mermaid Tiki Lounge,” said Billy by way of introduction.

“Okay.” That didn’t help a bit. An underwater tiki lounge?

“Billy, I can call you Billy, okay? Billy, what makes you think you are invited to my parents’ anniversary party? The shindig. No, the gala is for family and close friends of my parents. You are not invited. And your crew is definitely not invited,” I said as gently as I could.

This pirate seems to know more than he’s letting on. I’ve got to put a stop to all this nonsense and get back to my planning.

“Billy, explain yourself, or go back to wherever you came from,” I said.

“Matey, listen. The local community club is not available. And neither is Joe’s Fish House. I’m offering me ship for the party, and me mates can serve as attendants. I am offering me ship for the party and to use me mates as serving attendants. We could even get cleaned up a bit, if you insist.

“There is more than enough room for the fifty or so people you’ve invited along with us,” Billy said by way of explanation.

“How do you know this,” I questioned, just as I heard Dave yell down.

“Earl, your phone kept ringing. I answered it. The community club said they are not available for the fifteenth. You’ll have to look elsewhere.”

Startled, I looked up at Dave, then across the table to Billy. “How did you know?”

“Dave, while you have my phone in your hand, call Joe’s Fish House. See if he is available for the fifteenth.”

“Fine, Earl. Are you going to sit down there all day or come up here and get some of this work done?”

“I’m sitting here with Billy Bowlegs. I’m waiting to hear what Joe has to say.”

“You’re sitting with who? Earl, there is no one there but you.”

“Ha. That’s what you think,” I said, looking straight at Billy.

“How come he saw you sail up and now can’t see you?” I asked.

“Easy, mate. I don’t want him to see me, or me crew, or me ship anymore.”

Just then Dave called down, “Joe said he’s busy that night, also.”

Dave turned to go before I asked him anything else.

“Okay. I’ll play along. If he can’t see any of you, how can you host my parents’ party on your ship? How would they and the other guests see you and the ship?”

“Faith, me lad. Faith.”

“Now, let us get those invitations ready. I’ll get the food lined up. You get the decorations for the ship. And finish up the transportation for your parents,” he said, looking smug and picking up his mug of rum.