My recent discovery of digital data that I thought had been forever lost has been like Christmas for me. I'm still opening presents! Among the many previously unpublished short stories (and more) is this, written on an old Compaq "luggable" computer, on 5 1/4-inch floppy disk. Wow, to think I wrote major passages of books on that machine.
"Pirate's Cove" was dedicated to, and very much about, my daughters Rachel and Katy, before their brother Calvin came along. To think Rachel has children of her own now, Bella and Livvie, Katy has Vivienne, and Cal is living in a Buddhist temple in Japan...
(Intro updated on March 15, 2020)
PIRATE'S COVE
by
G. Wayne Miller
1.
One summer,
Rachel and Katy's mom and dad had squirreled a little extra money away. They
decided to rent a cottage in Maine for two weeks. It was a big old place right
on the coast and it had three chimneys, two gables and a big red barn. Dana
Holbrook, the caretaker, said a sea captain had built it back in those long-ago
days when all the ships had sails.
``Is it
haunted?'' Rachel, 9, asked Dana, who was opening the cottage up. The Mortons
had arrived that afternoon from Connecticut, where they lived in an almost-new
house.
``Nope,'' said
Dana.
``Not even by a friendly ghost?'' said Katy, who was 5.
Already, she wasn't too sure she wanted to sleep in the kids' room on the
second floor. It was too close to the attic, which had a single window with a
faded blue curtain.
``Not even by a
friendly ghost,'' said Dana. ``But I know about a cove where a pirate buried
gold. Maybe tonight, when you're all moved in, I could tell you the story.''
2.
Dana was a very
nice man, the Mortons quickly decided. In the winter, he taught seventh and
eighth grade in the elementary school, which had only 45 students, total. In
the summer, he was a caretaker for several places. He also went lobstering
every day. He lived just down the road in a house almost identical to the one
the Mortons had rented.
``Can you tell
us about the pirates now?'' Rachel said that evening after dinner, when Dana
dropped by to check on how everything was going.
``That's up to
your folks, I reckon.''
``Please, Dad?''
Katy said. Her hair was blonde, her eyes very green, and when she opened them
wide like that, it was hard to refuse.
``Please, mom?''
said Rachel. She had brown hair, pretty pink eyeglasses and an angelic face,
and it was just as hard to turn her down.
``OK,'' Mrs.
Morton said.
``So long as
it's not too scary,'' Mr. Morton added.
``Not scary
'tall,'' said Dana, settling into a chair. He was a big man, with long sandy
hair, a beard with flecks of gray in it, and hands as big as baseball gloves.
``Leastaways, my
kids never thought so.''
3.
``His name was
Black Skull,'' Dana began, ``and his father was a minister, his mother a
seamstress.''
``What's a
seamstress?'' Katy piped up.
``Someone who
sews,'' said Mr. Morton. ``Now, shush. Let Mr. Holbrook finish his story.''
``There were six
boys and six girls in his family,'' Dana went on, ``and all were highly quiet
and reserved sorts. Only Black Skull seemed to march to the beat of a different
drummer. At the age of 16, he left his home in Blue Hill -- that's just up the
coast here, as you know from driving in, girls -- took the stage coach all the
way down to New Bedford, and shipped out on the whaling vessel Bonnie B. Goode,
which happened to have been captained by a gentleman from Maine.''
``Just like Moby
Dick!'' Rachel said.
``Ayuh, just
like the good Captain Ahab himself. For six years, Black Skull -- who was still
called by his Christian name, Billy Bartlett -- was at sea, plying his trade
all over the world. He was making good money, and like the good Mainer he was,
he was stowing it away, thinking some day he might captain a vessel of his own.
For if Black Skull was anything, he was the finest seaman around.''
4.
Dana crossed and
uncrossed his big legs, and then he crossed and uncrossed his arms. ``You
wouldn't by any chance happen to have a cold one there in the
rah-fridge-ear-ay-tuh?'' he said. Dana pronounced a lot of his words like they
were from a foreign language, Katy and Rachel thought.
``To wet your
whistle?'' said Mr. Morton. He was trying very hard to sound like Dana, but it
wasn't working so hot, the girls thought.
``Ayuh.''
Mr. Morton
brought a beer for Dana, and one for himself. Mrs. Morton was sipping a glass
of wine. The girls had tall tumblers of Cokes, which was an especially big
treat, what with Mrs. Morton's concerns about sugar and caffeine.
``Now where was
I?'' Dana said. ``Ayuh. I was up to the part where Black Skull's boat was sunk.
``So here he
was, having worked himself up to first mate -- that's one step below captain,
as you know, girls -- when one day, as they were off the coast off Patagonia --
that's way down South America way, as you may not know -- they were attacked by
the worst sort of blood-thirsty pirates.''
``Was anybody
killed?'' Rachel said.
``Did the boat
sink?'' said Katy.
5.
Dana took a
generous swallow of beer and allowed: ``No to the first question, yes to the
second. The pirates, who were heavily armed, plundered Black Skull's ship,
taking all their gold. Then they put Black Skull and his crew in a dinghy --
that's nothing but a pipsqueak of a boat -- and cast them lose. Before they
sailed away, they set the Boonie B. Goode afire.''
``Poor boat,''
Katy said.
``Poor Black
Skull,'' said Rachel.
``Ayuh,'' said
Dana. ``But it could have been much worse. Through some stroke of luck -- we
all can use a stroke or two of luck every now and again, can't we girls? --
Black Skull and his men made it to the coast. After several months, they even
made it back to Maine.
``Now, as you
might imagine, it had been a trying experience for the men, and all but Black
Skull decided they'd had enough of the sea. One became a cobbler--''
``What's a
cobbler?'' Katy piped up.
``Someone who
fixes shoes,'' Mrs. Morton said. ``Now shush.''
``And one became
a merchant and the captain, who'd made more than one fortune, decided to
retire. He took his wife and children and made himself a big house. And you're
sitting in it now, the house the captain of the Bonnie B. Goode built.''
6.
``Wow!'' Katy
said.
``What happened
to Black Skull?'' Rachel said.
``Funny you
should ask,'' said Dana. ``Black Skull never could forget how they'd all almost
died, cast adrift like that hundreds of miles in the middle of nowhere. He
vowed revenge on that scurvy band of pirates and with an expedition in mind, he
went to the U.S. Navy. But the Navy wasn't interested in chasing pirates way
off the coast of South America -- although I suppose it would've been different
if it'd been the American coast -- so Black Skull was out of luck there.
``In fact, it
seemed he was out of luck everywhere. Time went by, and it became clear if
Black Skull was to have his way, he'd have to marshal his own resources.
``Lord knows
how, but somehow he managed to borrow enough money to buy a boat of his own. It
wasn't anything special, only a two-master, sixty feet if that, but it would
do. Using his savings, he outfitted her with salt cod and limes and water and
hardtack -- that's a fancy name for biscuits, girls -- and then he brought
aboard a trunk full of muskets and three old cannons he'd bought second-hand.
He raised the American flag and, beside it, a black skull against white. That's
how he got his name, as you might have guessed. Lord knows how, but he managed
to get a crew of a dozen men, as well. I suspect he made the rounds of saloons,
bearing promises of easy gold.''
7.
Dana was warming
up to his story now.
``They sailed on
Christmas morn and they made decent time, arriving off South America in under
two months. Their luck was good. Within a week, they'd found that pirate ship,
lying in wait for a Spanish boat loaded with gold doubloons. Black Skull fired
a warning shot with one of his cannons. The pirates were in retreat. But they
were not fast enough for Black Skull. In under an hour, he had 'em broadside.
The pirates surrendered.''
``Did he sink
their ship?'' Rachel said.
``Did he kill
the pirates?'' Katy chirped up.
``Yes to the
first and no to the second. Just as they'd done to him, he set the pirates
loose in their dinghy and said, `Good luck, you're on your own now.' Or something
to that effect; I imagine his actual words were a might more blunt. As they
were going through the ship, they found--''
``Gold?'' Rachel
said.
``Ayuh, chests
and chests full of gold. There was gold jewelry, gold doubloons, gold bars from
the Incas and the Aztecs and the Amazons. But they also found something else.''
``What?'' said
Katy.
``Kids,'' said
Dana. ``Two little kids: a boy and a girl, not much older than you
yourselves.''
8.
``Where'd they
come from?''
``From another
boat they'd plundered, naturally,' Dana said. ``Why the pirates had let them
live -- never mind brought them on board -- were questions no one could ever
answer. My own guess is they planned to raise them for slaves.
``Now Black
Skull -- who, as you might recall, came from a family of 12 -- was immediately
taken with the children. He knew how lonely and sad they must have been,
orphaned so sudden and cruel like that. And so, just before he sent that
pirates' ship to Davy Jones locker, he adopted those kids as his own.''
``He was very
nice,'' Katy said.
``I suspect any
man worth his salt would have done the same. Like I told you, Black Skull was a
good pirate. Weren't never any other
kind to come from the state of Maine.''
``Is that the
end of the story?'' Rachel said.
9.
``Almost,'' Dana
said. ``All that's left is to tell you what Black Skull did with his gold. When
he got back to Maine, he paid off his crew handsomely -- not a one ever had to
work another day in his life -- and then he buried what was left -- chests and
chests of gold -- in his secret cove. He built a house down the road a bit and
set about raising his children. Once a year, when he needed money, he would go
to his secret cove -- all alone, of course -- and dig up only what he needed.
Legend has it that when he died, there was still seven chests left.''
``Awesome!''
Rachel said.
``Where's the
gold now?'' Katy said.
``I figured
you'd ask that,'' said Dana. ``Still somewhere in that cove. As to where, exactly,
no one knows -- though that hasn't stopped folks from looking. I bet your folks
might even let you look one of these
days. And while you may never find Black Skull's gold, I can guarantee you'll
find the best hard-shell clams anywhere on the East Coast. Make a fine chowder.
You like chowder, girls?''
``Yuk,'' they
said together.
``We like
Spaghetti-Os.''
``We like
chowder,'' said Mr. Morton.
``Love it, in
fact,'' said his wife. ``With lobster.''
``Good enough,''
Dana said. ``'Course, you won't find Pirate's Cove on any map. Only the
old-timers know where 'tis.''
Before he bid
them goodnight, Dana gave the Mortons directions to Pirate's Cove.
10.
Two days later,
after checking the tide chart, Mr. Morton and Rachel and Katy set off for
Pirate's Cove. Mrs. Morton was gone for the day. She'd looked up an old college
friend in Bangor and the two of them were off for some shopping.
The path to
Pirate's Cover was an old fire road, but it had been years since it had been
cut back. Pines and oaks formed a canopy overhead, blotting out the bright blue
sky. Mr. Morton had to be careful not to let branches snap in the girls' faces
as they started toward the sea.
``Look, Dad,
blueberries!'' Rachel said.
``Maybe another
day we can pick some,'' Mr. Morton said. ``Today we're going for clams.''
``And gold,''
said Katy.
``Silly, there
isn't any gold,'' said Rachel. ``And there wasn't any Black Skull. That was
just a story, right Dad?''
``I don't know
about that,'' said Mr. Morton. ``I kind of believed Mr. Holbrook.''
``Dad...''
``Look,'' he
said. ``There's the cove, straight ahead. Be careful on those rocks, girls.''
11.
The cove was
even prettier than Dana had described. There were no houses anywhere in sight,
only a thick blanket of evergreen bordering the rocks. Below the rocks was the
beach: white sand littered with mussel and clam shells. The tide was low. Kelp
was everywhere. The flats extended out toward a small island. At low-low tide,
Dana had said, you could walk over.
``Perfect for
clams,'' Mr. Morton said.
``Perfect for
hermit crabs,'' said Rachel.
``Perfect for
gold,'' said Katy. ``I hope I find a gold bracelet.''
The girls, each
with a shovel and bucket, fanned out across the flats. Mr. Morton started
digging with his rake. Dana hadn't been fooling. The clams were almost as
plentiful as the sand. In ten minutes, his basket was half full.
``Find any
gold?'' Mr. Morton asked.
``Nah,'' said
Katy.
``Well you've
certainly dug deep enough.''
``Can we go out
to the island?'' Rachel said.
``Yeah, can we,
Dad?''
``OK. Just be
careful on the rocks.''
``We will.''
12.
The island was
even better than the flats, the girls agreed. Sitting on its shore, the sky
looked as big as the whole world. And the water was blue and perfectly still;
only a few lobster pots disturbed the surface. Rachel found a horseshoe crab
and a lobster claw. Katy found several green stones, for her rock collection.
``It's almost as
good as gold,'' she said, dropping them into her bucket.
``I've never had
a horseshoe crab before,'' said Rachel. ``I've always wanted one.''
``And I have
more than enough clams for the best chowder this side of Boston,'' Mr. Morton
said. ``Now it's time to go. The tide's coming in and we don't want to get
stranded.''
``Because Black
Skull might get us,'' Rachel said. ``Dana said to this day, he watches over his
gold.''
``But he's a nice pirate,'' Katy protested.
``Yes he is,''
Mr. Morton said. ``Let's get a move on.''
13.
Nobody saw Katy
fall.
One minute she
was starting down a huge seaweed-covered rock. The next minute, she was at the
bottom, crying and clutching her ankle.
``Katy, are you
all right?'' Mr. Morton was upset. ``Oh, God. I never should have let you climb
up there!''
Katy only cried.
As soon as he
had a close look at her ankle, Mr. Morton knew. ``It's broken,'' he said.
``Poor Katy,''
Rachel said. ``Did she hit her head?''
``I don't think
so,'' Mr. Morton said. ``Did you, honey?''
Katy shook her
head. ``It hurts,'' she cried.
``I know it,
honey. But the doctor will fix it up fine.''
``I don't want
any needles!''
``You won't have
to have any,'' Mr. Morton said. ``But we'll have to get you to a hospital.''
``Can she
walk?''
``I'll have to
carry her,'' Mr. Morton said. He hugged Katy. ``There, there, everything's
going to be OK.''
He picked his daughter
up. It had been a long time since he'd carried her any distance and the last
year had been a growth spurt for Katy. ``Like a weed,'' the family liked to
joke. But there was no choice. They could wait days in Pirate's Cove before
anyone came along.
14.
Dana happened to
drive by when Mr. Morton was loading Katy into the car back at the house. He
gave Mr. Morton directions to Blue Hill Hospital and gave Katy his word that
the doctors and nurses there were the nicest in the world.
``You know,'' he
said, pulling Mr. Morton aside, ``I feel responsible. All that talk of Black
Skull.''
``Don't be
ridiculous,'' Mr. Morton said.
``You didn't
even get your chowder.''
``You're
right,'' Mr. Morton said. ``In our rush, we left everything behind.''
``Come on, Dad,''
Rachel said.
``Coming.''
``You sure you
don't want to ride with me?'' Dana said one final time.
``We're all
set,'' Mr. Morton said. ``If you can just make sure their mother sees my note.
I didn't have her number.''
15.
They were three
hours at the hospital. Katy got crutches and the nurse gave both girls giant
lollipops. The doctor was the first to sign Katy's cast, which she would be
wearing until just before kindergarten started in the fall.
``Watch that
step!'' the doctor wrote.
Mrs. Morton was still
out shopping when they got home. But somebody had been busy inside the cottage.
A full pot of chowder was steaming on the stove and there were two fresh-caught
two-pound lobsters and a big can of Spaghetti-Os in the refrigerator. The table
was set and there was a bottle of wine and a six-pack of Coke.
But the biggest
surprise was Rachel's bucket of shells and Katy's bucket of rocks, just as
they'd left them at Pirate's Cove. Next to each bucket was a necklace and a
bracelet.
``Gold!'' the
girls gushed.
``And look at
this,'' Mr. Morton said, picking up a note written in large, black letters.
Across the top was a skull and cross bones.
``Dear Rachel
and Katy,'' Mr. Morton read.
``Couldn't help
but feel bad about how your visit to my cove turned out. Can't give you all my
gold, but I hope this will help.
Enjoy your stay
in Maine.
``Signed, Black
Skull.
``P.S. Katy.
Have your dad sign your cast for me.''
Written
in a haunted house on Buck’s Harbor, Maine, in August 1990.
