A Pirate's Wish

by S. E. Smith

  “Jimmy, you okay?” Dorothy called from behind the bar.

  TJ released him, and he grabbed the plastic tub with the dirty dishes he had been collecting. He carried the dishes back to the kitchen. A shiver of unease ran through him when he turned to back through the swinging doors. TJ was staring at him with that strange light in his eyes again.

  “You stay away from them boys, Jimmy. I don’t like the looks of them,” Dorothy cautioned him in a motherly tone.

  “Yes, Miss Dorothy,” Jimmy replied before he disappeared into the back.

  “Hey, TJ, I know the dude that just came in. He’s the drummer for Peter Craig’s band. The guy, Austin something or other, is like crazy on the stage. He busted up the last drum set. I saw them in concert in Seattle,” Jeffie hissed.

  TJ turned to look at the shaggy-haired man who’d just entered the Underground Pub. The guy had his arm around a girl who looked like jailbait to him. She was the only thing keeping the drummer upright.

  TJ watched as Dorothy escorted the couple to a booth near the pool table. The drummer barely made it to the seat before the girl took off for the bathroom. TJ studied the man. Now this could be interesting.

  “Drew, go get me a couple of beers,” he ordered.

  “Whatcha going to do, TJ?” Jeffie asked.

  “I’m going to go introduce myself to someone who isn’t a loser like you, Jeffie,” TJ replied.

  Tonya listened to Dan talk about his day. She figured that asking him about it was a good way to find out if anything unusual had happened. What she hadn’t expected was how boring it would be to listen to him ramble.

  “Mrs. Rhett was determined to get her cat out of the tree. I kept telling her if she put a can of cat food at the base of it and left the poor thing alone that it would eventually come down. She had already called the volunteer fire department before she ran into me at the Post Office this morning. Harry told her that none of the guys could get there until after three if it wasn’t an emergency…,” Dan droned on.

  Tonya seriously doubted that Ashure’s lost soul was in Dan, Mrs. Rhett, or the furry feline. She leaned her head back against the headrest and focused on the road. Dan had booked a table at one of the nicer restaurants in Yachats that catered more to the tourists than to the locals. She would have been happy going to the pub. The food was good, the music so-so, and it was dark. At least in the dark she wouldn’t have to pretend to be interested like she was doing now.

  “So, did you finally get her cat down?” she asked when he started talking about Harry without finishing what happened to the cat.

  “What? Oh, the cat. It came down just like I told Mrs. Rhett it would,” he said.

  “Did anything else interesting happen? I know that things were pretty crazy around here for a while,” she said.

  “No, the last crazy thing was you showing up on the beach. You never did say what happened to you,” he said.

  Tonya silently groaned. She should have been more careful. The last thing she wanted to do was lie.

  “It looks like you are settling into the job really well,” she commented.

  He grinned and nodded. “Oh, yeah, this is like a dream job. It is a lot better than my job in Salem,” he said.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when they pulled into the parking lot of ‘The Pier’ restaurant. Colorful strings of lights swayed in the breeze. The porch was partially enclosed, and she could see glowing red heater strips mounted on the wall. Casual diners could be seen through the windows. Behind the restaurant, a wide variety of boats were docked. Their worth ranged from a few thousand dollars to several million.

  Dan waited for a car to pull out of a parking space near the front entrance, then entered the vacated spot. She shivered when he opened his door and got out. The cold wind cut through the warm interior. She smiled and gave him her hand when he opened her door and held his hand out to her.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “I’ve been looking forward to tonight all day,” he confessed.

  “Really?” she asked, slightly surprised.

  He nodded. “Yes. I’m hoping you can tell me more about your friend, Ashure Waves. I did a search on him today and couldn’t find any record of him—not even a driver’s license or Social Security number,” he said.

  Tonya gave Dan a weak smile. Well, the night has definitely become more interesting, she thought.

  15

  After his initial rough start, Ashure quickly became proficient at operating the vehicle. Driving the winding roads was rather exhilarating.

  Ashure guided the vehicle into a parking space and turned it off. Then he opened the door, stepped out of the vehicle, and took a deep breath. Chilly moist air filled his lungs. He shut the door to the truck and pressed the button on the fob to make the lights flash.

  “Now, where, oh where, did that little soul go?” he murmured.

  He lifted his hand and whispered an ancient spell. A small, glowing golden orb rose from his palm. It floated in the air for a moment before it began moving. He stepped up onto the sidewalk and walked past the dark storefronts.

  At the end of the long strip of buildings, he turned the corner. An older man slowly tottered in his direction. The man staggered to a stop and looked at the floating orb.

  “Well, would you look at that—Fairy lights!” the man drunkenly exclaimed.

  The slurred awe in the man’s voice reminded Ashure of a time or two in his life when he’d imbibed one ale too many—the last time was after he had faced Simon Black. He paused when the orb skirted around the man. The man swayed and tried to follow the orb. Ashure was forced to reach out and grip the man under his arms when he almost fell.

  “I believe you’ve had enough drink for the night, my friend. It would be best if you went home,” he dryly advised.

  “That’s where I’m heading. Home,” the old man agreed with a bobbling head.

  “Right. Well, be off with you, then,” Ashure said with a pat to the man’s shoulder.

  “I can’t wait to tell Martha about the Fairy lights,” the man mumbled.

  Ashure watched the man wobble down the sidewalk for a moment before he returned his attention to the orb. It had begun to move again. He followed it across an uneven parking lot to a building with a bright sign hanging above it. It was obviously the establishment that the old man had visited.

  He held out his hand, and the orb floated back to him. With another whispered spell, it vanished. This was as good a place as any to begin his search. An uncharacteristically vicious smile appeared on his lips. There was a special destination in the Cauldron of Spirits for those who dared to escape.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are, my old friend,” he murmured as he pulled open the door to the Underground Pub.

  Tonya managed to keep a relaxed expression on her face with just the right amount of innocent confusion. The last thing she had expected tonight was for Deputy Dan to wine, dine, and interrogate her about Ashure. Her mind raced through different scenarios as she mentally prepared for his line of questioning.

  They followed the hostess to the table Dan had reserved. She smiled her thanks when he helped her remove her jacket, hung it on the back of her chair, and pulled the chair out for her to sit down. She waited as he removed his jacket and sat down. A waiter appeared almost immediately to take their drink order.

  “I’ll have a glass of Merlot,” Dan said.

  “Water with lemon, please,” Tonya replied.

  “You don’t drink?” Dan inquired.

  Tonya looked up from the menu she had opened and shook her head. “Very seldom. I never acquired a taste for wine or beer, though that may be changing,” she confessed.

  “I like the occasional glass of wine—and beer, of course. It goes well with football,” he said.

  “That’s what Max says, too,” she replied.

  “That’s right, you know Max Bennett. He’s a detective with the Portland Police department, isn’t he?” Dan asked.


  “Yes,” she responded.

  She sat back in her seat when the waiter returned with their drinks and some dinner bread, then she glanced down at the menu and gave her order for the grilled chicken fettuccine Alfredo and the house salad. She closed the menu and handed it to the waiter. Reaching for her crisp white cloth napkin, she shook it out and placed it on her lap while Dan gave his order for the Prime Rib and vegetable soup.

  This cozy little interrogation is going to cost him a pretty little penny, she couldn’t help but think with savage delight.

  “A toast to a wonderful evening with a beautiful woman,” Dan said, lifting his glass of wine.

  “To a wonderful evening,” she repeated, lifting her glass of water and touching it to his wine glass.

  He took a sip before he leaned forward. “Now, tell me about Ashure, starting with who he really is,” Dan said with a disarming smile.

  Ashure stood at the entrance to the pub and looked around the dimly lit interior. This was obviously a place well frequented by the local residents. An older woman called out to him to find any vacant seat.

  All the tables and booths were occupied. He scanned the room a second time. There was a table in the corner. A lone man sat in the chair pressed up against the wall and was moodily staring at his bottle of beer.

  “Now nothing says troubled soul more than someone all alone,” he murmured.

  “I’m Dorothy, love. What will you have?” Dorothy asked as she walked by him.

  “A glass of your finest ale, dear Lady,” he replied.

  Dorothy laughed. “One beer coming up,” she said with a grin.

  “Ah, a lass after my own heart,” he responded with one of his most charming smiles.

  Dorothy flushed, and her eyes widened. She turned away to deliver the drinks she was carrying, but Ashure didn’t miss the way she fanned herself once she had a free hand.

  He chuckled. The combination of Sprite charm and the dangerous edge of his pirate blood could be a potent combination on the unsuspecting. He crossed the room to the table in the corner.

  “It would appear all the other tables are taken. Do you mind if I join you?” he politely inquired.

  “Whatever,” the man replied.

  Ashure pulled out the chair next to the man and sat down. He smiled at Dorothy when she placed the bottle of beer down in front of him and another one in front of the man sitting beside him. She gave him a flustered look before she left.

  “Quaint establishment,” Ashure remarked.

  “It’s a shithole,” the man replied.

  Ashure turned to study the man. “An apt description from your point of view, I’m sure. I’m Ashure Waves,” he introduced.

  The man turned to glare at him and froze when their eyes met. Ashure used the opportunity to study the man’s soul. It was dark, but cowardice had kept him from crossing over that intangible threshold, at least so far. There was a world of difference between thought and deed.

  “Hannibal,” the man responded.

  “Tell me, Hannibal, why the long face?” Ashure asked in a coaxing voice that would pull the truth out of the man.

  Hannibal blinked and looked down at the bottle between his hands. Ashure sat back in his seat and waited. One never knew who would provide him with useful information.

  “Do you believe in aliens?” Hannibal suddenly blurted out in a low voice.

  Ashure raised an eyebrow at the unusual question. Well, unusual for a human.

  “Yes, of course. Why do you ask?” he replied.

  Hannibal stared at him with an assessing expression. Ashure returned the man’s scrutiny with his own. The man seemed haunted, a nebulous fear clouding his aura.

  “Because—because I know someone who said that he was killed by one. I believe him. I found his boat offshore, no anchors out, no sign of him, nothing. It was like he had just vanished into thin air. I tried to pull his boat in and it wouldn’t move, no matter how much thrust I gave the engines. Hell, my boat is a half-size bigger. One engine could pull his boat without breaking an O-ring, but the damn thing wouldn’t move from the spot. A week goes by and suddenly he’s back like he was never gone. Just—reappeared, but—” Hannibal stopped and took a deep swig of his beer.

  “He reappeared only to disappear again. I take it he told you about his adventure,” Ashure commented.

  Hannibal nodded before he shook his head as if to clear his mind. “Yeah, he came back. He wasn’t the same guy, though. He was different—wiser, more determined. It was like he’d lived through something extraordinary and survived. He wouldn’t tell me, though. All he said was that an alien had killed him. Yet, he was alive, and I was talking to him. I feel like I’m going crazy,” Hannibal mumbled.

  Ashure saw tears shimmering in the man’s eyes before he looked away. A wave of pity swept through him. It must be hard to live in a world where you believe things that no one else does.

  “Were you one of Ross’s friends?” Ashure asked.

  Hannibal looked at him with a startled expression. “How did you know it was Ross?” he hoarsely demanded.

  Ashure chuckled and pointed his beer bottle at Hannibal. “Because I was there when he died—both times,” he answered with an amused smile.

  “You—are you an alien?” Hannibal hissed.

  Ashure cast a cautionary glare at Hannibal. “Of sorts. I’m an alien to this world. However, I was not the one who killed Ross, who by the way, was very much alive and happy when I saw him a few days ago,” he replied.

  “Where’d he go? How do I know you’re telling me the truth and not making everything up?” Hannibal demanded.

  Ashure looked Hannibal in the eyes. “He is no longer in your world but in mine. Look into my eyes and see the truth, human. I need your help, and you will give it to me. Do not think of betraying me. I can assure you that those who do meet a fate much, much worse than death,” he advised.

  He dropped his voice to the mesmerizing tone that was so often necessary with untrustworthy souls. Hannibal’s soul was close enough to the edge of no return that the man should worry. His assistance in locating the lost soul would go a long way toward redemption.

  Hannibal paled, the certainty that he was in mortal danger hitting him like a sickening blow. “Please—God, no. I’ll help. I’ll do anything,” Hannibal pleaded.

  “Good. Now, tell me about each of the residents in this pub,” Ashure requested, releasing Hannibal from his spell.

  He turned in his seat and listened as Hannibal began haltingly describing each person in the pub that he recognized. He could sense that the soul that he was searching for was nearby. The difficulty was finding exactly where it was among the moving crowd.

  “That’s TJ and two of his bros. They are a younger version of me, my cousin, and Ross—only stupider. That’s saying a lot if you’d met my cousin,” Hannibal was saying.

  Ashure studied the three men that Hannibal pointed out. His attention moved from one to the other as they played a game of billiards. He paused on another man who stepped out of the shadows holding a cue stick.

  “Who is that?” he inquired.

  Hannibal looked at the man and shrugged. “Don’t know. I’ve never seen him before,” he replied.

  “Interesting, very interesting. How good are you at the game they are playing?” he asked, rising to his feet.

  16

  “I’m really sorry for the third-degree tonight, Tonya. I hope you’ll give me a chance to make it up to you. I was just worried about you when I couldn’t find anything on Ashure,” Dan said.

  Tonya unlocked the front door of the cottage and turned to face Dan. Third-degree was a mild way to describe their date. Dan had been like a Pitbull with a new chew toy. Every time she had tried to turn the conversation to another topic, he had brought it right back to Ashure again.

  “I appreciate your concern, Dan, but I assure you, I can take care of myself, and Ashure would never harm me. Thank you again for a lovely dinner,” she said, trying to end thei
r evening cordially.

  Dan took a step closer to her. He turned his hat in his hands and returned her gaze. She really hoped that he didn’t expect her to invite him inside.

  “I’m a little gun-shy with everything that has happened around here. First Carly disappeared, then Jenny, Mike, and his sister. Now with Ross taking off unexpectedly and no one knowing where he’s gone—and well, you disappearing and Marty finding you on the beach, I feel like maybe there’s something very wrong here,” Dan said, stepping closer as he spoke.

  Tonya lifted her hand and placed it on Dan’s chest. She gave him a pointed look that told him he was crossing an invisible line. He sighed and stepped back.

  “I’m fine. You have nothing to worry about. I hope you understand that it’s late. I’m taking Ashure to meet up with Max tomorrow in Portland, and we’re planning to leave early,” she said with an apologetic smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

  “I understand. Listen, at least give me a chance to make tonight up to you when you get back. Please,” he requested with a coaxing smile.

  “Give me a few days,” she compromised.

  “Great. If you need anything in the meantime, give me a call,” he replied.

  “I will. Good night, Dan,” she said as she stepped into the house.

  “Good night, Tonya,” he called.

  She shut the door and peered through the glass. She tightened her lips into a line of disapproval as she impatiently waited for him to leave. Once he had turned his SUV around and disappeared down the highway, she jerked open the door, crossed the porch, and descended the steps. She examined the bumper of her car.

  Bending over, she examined the dent and the cracked driver’s side turn signal light that had caught her eye when she walked by her car on her way to the house. Those had not been there before she left. She straightened and looked around. In the driveway, there were tire tracks that looked like they belonged to a truck, and they led from the garage door.