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Throw It Back (A Very Short Pirate Story)


THROW IT BACK

  By

  SHAMARA S. DAVIS

  COPYRIGHT © 2012 Shamara S. Davis

  Shamara S. Davis

  Copyrights

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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  THROW IT BACK

  I sat out at sea one day gazing at the horizon.  As my boat drifted lazily along, I watched the sun come up to kiss the sea.  I'd dropped my line about thirty minutes earlier and the fish weren't really biting.

  I daydreamed; trying to imagine what my life would be like if I left this little town, this fisherman's life.  It's hard to believe that a long time ago the place I call home was labeled 'the wickedest city on Earth'.  Port Royal was where pirates used to come to rest their sea-ravaged bodies after rampaging up and down the Caribbean Sea.  I can imagine all the Spanish gold those bloodthirsty rogues stole, and it was actually perfectly legal since they had permission from the English government to do so.

  My fishing pole started to shake and I snapped back to reality.  “Damn, it got away!” I muttered, but I didn't mind as I was enjoying the morning.  The sun hadn't reached its boiling point yet.  I sometimes wonder why it is so hot round here, almost as if we are paying for the past sins of those pirates.

  But my Port Royal is just a shell of its former self; gone are the pirates, the prostitutes and the bars that once littered the town's meager fifty-one acres.  There were rumored to be at least thirty bars in the town; thirty bars for 6,500 people, most of them pirates with stolen gold to spend.  Charles Leslie once compared our town to Sodom, and I suppose in a way he was right because my Port Royal is all that's left after the 1692 earthquake.  Sodom was destroyed by God because it was said to be filled with sinful, greedy, and vulgar souls.  I guess Port Royal was no different.

  But, like I said, that was Port Royal back then.  After the earthquake in 1692, half the town lay at the bottom of the sea.  Gone were all the things that offended God.  I guess he got angry again.  But my version of Port Royal is nothing more than a weak shadow of its sinful past. 

  As I pulled up my line and paddled my way back to shore, I saw something glistening in the shallows near the white sand beach.  The sun was almost directly overhead and it struck the object with its brilliant light.  Intrigued, I paddled towards it.  I drifted closer and could see that though it was tarnished with time and beaten by the sea, it was still beautiful.

  I jumped out of the boat and crashed into the water, diving down and digging away at the white sand that held this mystery in its watery grave.  I pulled it out.  It was heavy, but I could manage it.  As I got back in my boat, I felt a tug on my leg.  Confused, I thought it was a shark so I reached for my knife, but when I turned to plunge the blade into it, there was nothing there. 

  I paddled my way back to the dock as fast as I could.  My arms burned, as did my chest, but I was too excited to think about the pain.  I pulled my boat up onto the shore and made sure to tuck away my new treasure so no one would see it as I raced back to my haven to examine it more closely.

  It was small and round but it had weight to it, and was decorated with writing around the edges.  I bit into it to make sure I wasn't dreaming: it was gold!  Solid gold!  All I could think about was how this beautiful object was going to get me out of Port Royal.  I sat for hours gazing upon my new found fortune.  That night I tucked it under my pillow and went to bed thinking about my future life.  Little did I realize the world of trouble this gift from the sea would bring me.

  That night, and for several nights afterwards, I dreamt about pirates.  I was the captain of a great ship manned by my loyal crew.  We raced up and down the Caribbean plundering Spanish gold, taking what we wanted and living lavishly when we returned to Port Royal.  Things only started to get dark when I noticed that the face in the dream wasn't mine.

  I woke up that night in a cold sweat; my dream had turned into a nightmare.  Women and children screamed, there were bodies everywhere and yet as I looked upon the bloody carnage I laughed. I laughed was all I could repeat to myself as I sat upright in my bed.  The sweat ran down my face into my eyes and stung worse than I could imagine. 

  Confused and bewildered, I made my way to the bathroom and felt around for the light switch.  I flicked it on just in time to see a dark shadow fading away.  It grinned at me as the light destroyed the dark from which it was created.  I felt the blood drain from my face as I tore the hell out of the bathroom.  I told myself I hadn't seen what I thought I had, and that I was still dreaming.  “That's it, I'm still dreaming,” I mumbled.  Sitting on the bed I tried to calm myself, but I was still struggling to wrap my mind around what I thought I saw.  It was the shape of a man and his teeth glistened like gold. 

  I sat there with all the lights on and reached for my new object of admiration.  As I stroked it, I felt a cold feeling traveling down the back of my neck.  I stared at it for a moment, then stuck it back under my pillow and stayed awake the rest of the night.

  While I waited for morning, I thought about who to tell about the treasure I had found; who I could trust with my secret.  My mind didn't have to wander far.  I walked downtown in time to see the sun come up, and over to a particular boat where I knew I'd find Old Calico, a seasoned fisherman who knew all there was to know about Port Royal.  I noticed that he was unpacking his boat and I asked him why he wasn't going out.  He told me that he had a bad feeling about the water that day.  Calico regularly had bad feelings, and when he did it was a good idea to listen to him.

  I asked Calico if he would take a walk with me because I was afraid of prying eyes.  That was one thing the town wasn't short on: busybodies who wanted to know everyone's business.  Calico followed me in silence until we reached the old fort.  I turned to him and pulled out the piece of gold that I had wrapped with care, untied it and showed it to Calico.  His mouth was agape as if it was pried open with the Jaws of Life.  I stood there, waiting for him to get a hold of himself.  I covered up the not-so-small gold piece and put it back in my bosom for safekeeping.

  I didn't expect Calico's reaction after I had put it away.  “Where did you get it?” he asked me.  I told him about my day out at sea and how I'd found it just off the beach.  He looked at me with the strangest eyes; they sent chills down my spine, just like I had felt when I rubbed the gold piece.

  I stood waiting for him to say something else, but he didn't.  He just stood there looking at me as if I had committed murder.  I shook him and he grabbed my arm, but the only thing he said to me was, “Throw it back!”

  I looked at him, stunned, and told him, “No!”  That piece of gold was going to get me out of this town
; it was going to change my life for the better.  But he kept repeating the same thing, telling me to put it back.  I asked him why.  Why should I throw it back?  I found it, it was mine.  He just looked at me as if he were looking at a ghost.  Calico told me that wherever I found it to put it back.  He looked more scared than I had ever seen him before. 

  He walked away from me, yelling his warning as he increased his speed.  I thought he was crazy just like the rest of the town did.  Why the hell should I put it back?  But then I remembered the dreams, and the dark shadow.

  I thought Calico of all people would have understood what this treasure meant to me.  I thought he would have been the one to be happy for me.  As I walked back down to the shore I saw him again, but he did not stick around to chat. He hurried to his hut and closed the door behind him. I didn't pay the crazy old man any attention.

  I was ready to paddle out for the day, but noticed that there was a thick fog on the water.  That was strange since we never