Richard Wants to Hear More

The old man sounds crazy, sure, but Richard thought back to when his grandfather had read 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea to him as a kid and felt a nostalgic surge of childhood wonder. Those bold explorers operating outside the bounds of nations, audaciously questioning the unknown by throwing themselves into it. Richard always wished he had a little of that kind of bravery.

Admittedly, he had none.

This old captain though... he had... something. Wisdom? Secret knowledge? Maybe it was just the hope that the old man’s tall tales could prolong this feeling he’d long forgotten. He decided to follow the man to attempt to pry the story out of him, hoping that would be a cruise souvenir he could share with Aria later.

As expected, the old man had found a place at the bar. Richard sat next to him just in time to hear him order something called a “shrub”. Richard pipes up, “Make that two and it’s on me!” Richard dared to pat the man on the back as he sat next to his elder.

The disgraced sailor glanced at him slowly. “Well, I’ll drink to that, but it takes more than that to loosen my trousers.”

“No, no, I only want to loosen your lips—uh I mean... to hear more of your story! It sounds like it is worth the price of a couple drinks.”

The old man grinned. “Heh. If I told it in full, it’d be worth every drink in the bar... And ye should know, some stories will change ye in the list’n. Some sweep ye away, nev’r to return.”

Richard nodded his ascent, feeling the excitement of his grandfather finally reading him a new, old story. “I’m all ears.” The man waited to start the tale until his drink was served, took a long sip and cleared his throat.

“Love is a curse. It don’t feel so bad at the first, but sooner or later it’ll getcha. On that last voyage of my career, through these very waters, the curse got me twice.”

Richard leaned in, tasting his drink, making a face at the odd flavor... vinegar? If this is what the old sailors drink, it must be the masculine thing to do, so he pretended to be a man and like it.

“My wife... Before we married, she was jus me navigator. A sharp tack, she was. I was cursed the moment the company assigned her to me ship, though I didn’t know it yet, not until she was ripped from me hands in the dead of night.” He stared at his hand dreamily, then at Richard.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Eh, that... was a curse indeed, but that was only half of it. We’d sailed for many years together. Twas a beautiful partnership. We never let our love get in the way of our duty to the ship and crew. Alas... ye sure ye want to hear the rambling nightmares of a senile old man? If ye do, ye best order the next drink.”

Richard did. “Please, go on.”

The old sailor rolled his sleeve up, showing a deep red line, a scar that never quite healed, snaking up from his wrist into his shirt.“The thing that took her from me—a foul creature from some brackish trench, I have no doubt—I was cursed with love by it as well.”

Richard pretended to sip from his drink, looking at the scar with squeamishness. “A sea monster?”

“Aye!” He slammed the bar top in sudden anger. “I intend to kill the fiend! Or if there is no other way to lift this curse, throw myself at it to do what it will!” Several people looked at us with concerned expressions. Richard made some weak smiles toward them to suggest the old man would be alright, meanwhile the bartender opted to remove the second cocktail.

When they were no longer being stared at, Richard had to ask, “You fell in love with it? How... how did that happen?”