The Strange Stranger

Chapter One - The Strange Stranger

“Come on ladies and gentlemen, three shillings for a boat ride round the rock with a master sailor!” Declan Murphy shouted on the harbour side.

A lot had changed since William Murphy had left. Declan was now fourteen years old and a grown-up in his own right. He had inherited his father’s messy brown hair and his mother’s bright blue eyes, and now he was offering boat rides to the locals, as he did every morning.

“Come on people, you can take a dive in the deep blue sea and I’ll be looking after you as you see the beautiful fishes!” Declan called in his usual confident fashion. 

Declan slapped his old fisher boat named The Irish Rose. He had had the boat for years, having been given it by a rich old friend. Declan had started this job for his mother, who had been struggling for money, and to be honest, he enjoyed it. Meeting new people and doing what he loved most - sailing.

In the midst of Declan’s preaching to the passing locals, a pretty girl - aged about seventeen or eighteen - stopped in front of the boat, looking at it with interest.

“Come for a ride, love?” Declan asked, a hint of an Irish accent in his voice. “Hop on, for you I’ll only charge two shillings. But I’m sorry if I get nervous, I always do in the company of such beautiful girls.”

The girl smiled and blushed, when a muscular-looking man put his arm around her, glaring at Declan. Declan grinned nervously. 

“And of course, this strong chap is your other half,” Declan said through gritted teeth. “So he’ll be on board to stop any funny stuff happening. Jump on!”

*

A few hours later, a tired Declan was walking home, his hands in his pockets. The morning sun had firmly set in the sky and Declan was feeling the heat from it. As he walked, a voice from the local pub called him. 

“Murphy!” 

Declan turned and sighed. At the bar sat Michael Bull, otherwise known as Big Mike. He was sitting at the bar drinking a large glass of rum, as he always did. Declan trudged into the pub and over to him.

“Alright Mike?”

“Don’t give me all that!” Big Mike snarled. “You owe me money for those cigars!”

Declan took out a few cigars out of his large pocket and handed them back to Big Mike, who looked at them with a confused expression. Declan shrugged.

“Couldn’t make a profit,” he muttered, sitting down on the stool next to Mike. 

“You only bought them off me to sell them?” Big Mike exclaimed.

“Obviously,” Declan replied with a grin. “You didn’t think I’d smoke them myself, did you?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” Mike muttered. 

Declan frowned. “You may kill me but you shall never insult me!”

Big Mike shook his head, a strained sort of smile playing on his flabby face. “You really are a very strange fruit, Declan Murphy. Fancy a glass of rum?”

Declan nodded, pleasantly surprised by Big Mike’s uncharacteristic generosity. Mike called the barman and almost immediately a glass of rum slammed down in front of Declan. He sipped at it enthusiastically. Mike watched him drink.

“How’s your mother?” he asked, catching Declan by surprise again.

“She’s fine,” Declan replied, wondering if it was really the truth. “We’re struggling a bit for money. That’s why I’ve been doing the boat rides.”

“You want to be careful, sailing out past that rock,” Big Mike warned him. “Ruthless pirates sail these seas. They’ll take you on board and eat you for breakfast, dinner and supper. Trust me.”

“You and your overactive imagination, Mike,” Declan replied with a smile. “No pirate’s going to get me.”

“You’ll see,” Mike growled. “You’ll see when the pirates get you and hoist you on board, forcing you to cut their toenails by biting them, making you sleep with the rats before fattening you up to eat.”

“You can have my rum,” Declan said, pushing the glass over to Mike who grabbed it with eager hands. “I’m going home.”

“Tell your mother I said hello!” Big Mike called as Declan rushed out of the pub.

*

Declan pushed open the door of his mother’s corner shop and entered to find one of his mother’s employees, Sally, lazing around, sitting on a wooden-back chair.

“Where’s Mother?” he asked, shutting the door behind him. 

“Hello to you too,” Sally replied, frowning at Declan’s rudeness. “She’s upstairs. Why’s Jack the Lad in such a hurry?”

Declan turned round and gave Sally a stern look that he had worked on to give authority. “You know Sal me old girl, if you learnt to keep your nose out of other people’s business for a change, you could get somewhere with life.”

“Ooh, there’s no need to be mean about it,” Sally replied, looking a little hurt. “I was just enquiring about the problems in my good friend’s life, but if he’d rather not talk about it, I completely understand. And tell your mother I’m finished for the day!”

Declan shook his head, exasperated, and climbed upstairs. He knocked on the bedroom door he and his mother, Anne shared, and entered. Anne was sleeping on the bed, her head resting on her hands. Declan knew how tired she must be, for Anne rarely took naps in the day. 

He walked over to her and stroked her hair, when Anne woke with a start. Declan jumped slightly but then calmed down and smiled at his mother.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine love,” Anne replied, stretching out on the bed. “You just gave me a bit of a scare, that’s all. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” said Declan. “Oh yes, Sally’s finished her shift.”

Anne groaned. Declan looked at her pityingly.

“I can do a couple of hours down there if you like,” he suggested, not enthused by the prospect. 

“You’re a good boy, Declan.” Anne smiled at him. “You’ll make a fine husband to a woman one day in the future.”

Declan nodded his thanks to her and departed the room, rushing back downstairs, where Sally was gathering her coat. Declan sat down on her chair.

“Three shillings for a boat ride, Sally,” he said suddenly, always trying for money. “Feel the wind through your hair. You know you want to.”

Sally smiled. She was twenty-five, plump but always cheerful. “Always thinking of money, aren’t you Master Murphy? Maybe tomorrow.”

“Ah, you see. You can’t resist the charm of old Declan Murphy!”

Sally laughed. “You’re very deluded, Master Murphy! You’re too cheeky for your own good!”

With a shake of her head, she moved out of the door, leaving Declan to look after the shop on his own. He looked around at the products. There was a mixture of things - bottles of white and red rum, food, toys for little children. Declan took out a small wooden model of a horse from a shelf and started to play with it quietly. Then the door opened, forcing Declan to quickly put the horse away and move over to the till. 

The customer was old. That was Declan’s first thought. He had scraggly white hair and a bushy. As he smiled, Declan saw that he was missing several teeth, and he had a golden one in the middle, that shone on the roof of the room. Behind all the hair were two bright blue eyes that set on Declan like a hawk.

“Good afternoon,” Declan said, slightly nervous. “What can I do for you?”

The man smiled, as if reading Declan’s thoughts.

“You’re just like your father,” he said abruptly. “He always tried to cover up his true feelings.”

Declan blinked. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know what you’re talking about. You knew my father?”

The man nodded. “Aye, I knew him well. You look just like him. You’ll be a great pirate too.”

The man turned and started to look at the bottles of white rum at the back of the small room. Declan gaped after him, shocked about what he had said. The man had seemed unbothered by it. Declan decided to speak first.

“Are you saying that my father was a pirate?”

The man turned round. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. And by the way, it’s not ‘your father was a pirate’, its ‘your father is a pirate’.”

Declan stared at him. “You think my father’s still alive?”

“No son, I know he’s still alive. It’s going to take someone pretty special to kill Captain William Murphy.”

The man grinned toothily and turned round to look at the rum again. He took out two bottles of it and placed it on the table in front of Declan. Declan didn’t look at the bottles, just at the man. 

“I don’t believe you,” Declan said finally. 

The man shrugged. “It’s not a matter of you believing me. It’s the truth. And you’re going to have to accept it. You’re the son of a pirate, and a notorious pirate at that.”

Declan stared at him with a horrified expression. The man smiled.

“Don’t just stand there gawping, boy,” he said. “I want to get back so I can drink these.”

“I’m not serving you until you tell me what you’re going on about.”

“I told you,” the man persisted. “Your father, William Murphy is a pirate. What more is there to tell?”

“Everything!” Declan was tired, but he wanted to know the truth. His mother had never spoken well of his father. In fact, she rarely spoke of him at all. Declan had never knew him, presumed he was a rat who had left his mother as soon as he learnt she was pregnant. Now he was finally getting somewhere, if this strange man was telling the truth. “When did my father become a pirate? Why did he do it? Where is he now?”

The man sighed, conceding defeat. “So many questions. Alright, bring me a chair and I’ll tell you all I know.”

Declan quickly pulled a wooden chair from across the room and placed it in front of the counter, so the man could face him. Then he stuck the ‘CLOSED’ sign on the door and sat down behind the counter, ready for the man’s story. The man sat down.

“So what do you want to know?” the man asked. 

What a stupid question, thought Declan irritably. “Well, what’s your name?”

“Ah, I forgot to tell you that, didn’t I?” the man said with a chuckle. “The name’s Giovanni.”

“Giovanni?” Declan was surprised. The name sounded foreign - he had never heard it before. “Got a surname?”

“Nope, just Giovanni.”

“Okay …” Declan wasn’t sure he liked this strange old man, with no surname. He pressed on. “So how did my father get into piracy?”

“Ah, it’s a strange story, that one,” Giovanni started off, stroking his beard, obviously trying to look majestic. “Well, he was born in Cork, Ireland. William was always a bit of a rogue as a child, getting into bother with the neighbours, stealing goods. There was a pirate in him from the off.

“William’s parents didn’t know what to do with him. He ran away from home many times, and in the end they just gave up on him. As soon as he hit sixteen, he began to help pirates smuggle illegal goods. They paid him more and more money for it and the temptation of making that kind of gold, plus the exhilaration of living outside the law proved to be too much for him. He joined a crew captained by the legendary Richard Jones.”

“Richard Jones …” Declan crunched his eyes up, thinking furiously. Where had he heard that name before?

“William idolised him,” Giovanni continued, “he quickly rose up through the ranks and became the first mate. But then, on one raid, William met your mother - Anne - I believe her name is. He instantly fell in love and that was it. Captain Jones didn’t really want a lovesick puppy on his crew and William announced he was leaving to marry Anne.”

“What did Captain Jones do?” Declan asked, slightly nervously. 

“He let him leave,” Giovanni said to Declan’s pleasant surprise. “He loved William like a son, and he was happy that he had found love. He didn’t want to leave him but he knew it was for the best. So William left piracy behind to live in Ireland with Anne and they soon married, whilst Captain Jones and his fearsome crew continued to sail the seas.”

It seemed a bit of an anti-climax to Declan. But then he remembered - Giovanni had said William was still a pirate. There was still a lot left to be told.

“Then what?” whispered Declan.

“Well, for six months, William and Anne were blissfully happy and in love. Then Anne fell pregnant and it all changed. William didn’t want a baby - he and Anne were both young and he wanted to live life for a bit. He wanted to buy a boat for Anne which they could sail in. The pregnancy changed everything.”

“I’m guessing the baby was me?” Declan asked, just to make sure.

“Of course it was you!” Giovanni snapped. “You were born and fortunately, William found his paternal side. He looked after you all the time. He was so pleased that you were a boy, that he made Richard your godfather. That’s a real compliment.”

“I’m honoured,” Declan said sarcastically.

“You should be. Richard Jones was one of the greatest pirates to ever sail the seas. Anne didn’t know about Richard’s other life, so she was fine about him being godfather.”

“Wait,” Declan interrupted. “You said Richard Jones was one of the greatest pirates ever. So he’s dead?”

Giovanni nodded gravely. “During the time he was staying with you and your family, whilst he became godfather, a member of the authorities spotted Jones, and immediately knew who he was. He was captured and sentenced to be hanged.

“William went to visit him in prison. He blamed himself and wanted to make things right. He offered to help Jones escape from his prison, before Jones refused. He accepted his death. But he made William make a promise.”

Giovanni paused, unscrewed his rum bottle which he hadn’t paid for yet, and took a large gulp out of it. Declan waited for him to continue impatiently. Eventually, Giovanni continued.

“Jones told William to become captain of his ship, The Dynamite. He had always saw William as the rightful heir to the ship and William had to accept. He was reluctant, but personally I think he was gagging to get back on the seas.” He paused. “So Richard was hanged and William began to make preparations to leave.”

“How did my mother take the news?” Declan asked, wondering why she had never told him any of this.

“William planned to take you and your mother with him,” Giovanni replied. Seeing Declan’s confused looked, he continued. “He told her that the authorities wanted to arrest him for knowing Jones, and he told her that he had had no idea that Jones was a pirate. He was a very smooth talker, your father. 

“He told Anne that they had to leave Ireland before he was arrested and the pirate flag on The Dynamite was hidden. William planned to come out here, to the West Indies, and took control of the ship. He told all the crew to act like normal sailors, and pretend that they hadn’t known Jones. So you, Anne and William set off in The Dynamite to come here.”

Giovanni took another swig of rum and continued his long story.

“As The Dynamite approached Port Royal, William realized that he had to tell Anne the truth. He dumped you two here, at this corner shop, and told Anne he was a pirate and was going away to captain The Dynamite. Anne was shocked, as you might expect, and she told William to never visit. This obviously upset William but he agreed to it. And that is why you have never met your father.”

Declan sat in silence for a moment, trying to take all the information in. It couldn’t be true. But Giovanni had sounded so convincing, he knew his father’s name, he knew his life story. Declan looked up. He knew it had to be true.

“Where is he now?” he demanded.

“Ah Declan, I have spoken enough today,” Giovanni said, clapping his hands. “Maybe I will tell you more another time. But I am offering you a proposition.”

Declan was listening intently. Giovanni went on.

“Let me train you,” he said. “Let me teach you how to swordfight, to make you into a captain. Let me make you into a pirate captain.”

Declan stared at him in disbelief. Then he shook his head vigorously. 

“Nope, no way!” he exclaimed. “Are you mad? I’m a fourteen year-old boy who has a scruffy old boat, used to get three shillings. I’m not a pirate!”

“You’re not just a pirate, you’re a pirate captain,” Giovanni replied, unbothered by Declan’s words. “If you let me train you. Declan, I can help you meet your father.”

Declan’s eyes froze, staring at Giovanni intently.  

“How?” he demanded.

“I can teach you the ways of a pirate,” Giovanni said, in a strangely cold voice. “I can make you so confident and so skilled that you could captain a ship with grown men in it, even at your age! Please, let me.”

Declan shuddered, considering. A way to find his father. It sounded tempting. And plus, maybe becoming a pirate wouldn’t be so bad. He already loved the sea and was a skilled sailor. He looked at Giovanni’s bearded face.

“The drinks are on the house,” he muttered, moving towards the door leading upstairs. “I’ll get back to you.”

“Fine,” Giovanni said with a nod. “But Declan, please note this. Do you know what your surname, the word ‘Murphy’ means?”

Declan shook his head.

“It means ‘sea-battler’,” Giovanni said with a smile, turning around to leave, but not before picking up the bottles of rum.

Declan watched him leave, with mixed emotions.

“Wait!” he called, causing Giovanni to turn. Declan took a breath. “All those things you told me. That was personal stuff. How did you know about it all?”

Giovanni smiled mysteriously. “My dear boy. I know all things.”