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A oil lamp hung from a hook outside the door. It rocked gently as the warm ocean breeze pushed it to and fro, the glass keeping the golden flame safe from extinguish. A sigh of relief escaped the young man's lips on seeing the tiny bit of fire dancing merrily. It meant he wasn't to late. He'd received the letter a fortnight ago and he'd sailed like a bat out of hell to reach his destination, lest he be to late to wish an old friend farewell.
Harry Hook removed his hat, holding it across his chest. His other hand ran up through his shaggy mop of hair out of nervous habit. He knocked on the door gingerly before adjusting his coat. It was late, nearly midnight. He'd thought of waiting til daylight came but the words he'd read had held only certainty that no time could be spared. Mr. Smee was dying. A tired, pudgy woman answered the door. Her eyes widened at the sight of him as she gestured the stranger in. She looked like Smee, he thought. The round, rosy cheeks and bulbous nose gave her away as the man's niece, from his sister's side if Harry remembered correctly. Anna was it? She didn't stop to introduce herself instead simply led him into a small bedroom off the homes main living area. She gave him a sad smile as she slid the door shut behind him. The room was neatly furnished, if not a wee bit Spartan. There was scarce enough room to turn around and he was amazed that they'd been able to fit a reading chair, desk, and bed into the tiny space. He smiled to himself. Nothing with Smee should have surprised him. The man had worked more than a few miracles in Harry's life, even if he'd never admit to them. Speaking of...
"Master Harry!" The voice was much smaller than he remembered but no less joyful. Harry's eyes fell on the man who'd spoken and was stunned by what he saw. Even as a child Harry had known Smee to be an old man. One of his first memories was bouncing along the deck of the Jolly Roger on the rolly poley little mans shoulders. He'd squealed in delight, knotting his fingers into the foggy grey tufts of his hair. The man in front of him now was drawn and thin. His face was white as the sheet he lay on. His once jolly, round cheeks were sunken and hollow. The only thing that hadn't changed were his eyes. Behind his spectacles the blue orbs still held the warm twinkle he remembered so well. Where his Father had been cruel and downright neglectful of his son Smee seemed to step up, even if only in secret. The wrath of James Hook was known to everyone and if he wanted to treat his boy like dirt no one was going to be allowed to do contrary.
Harry leaned across the bed, placing a small kiss on the man's head "It's good to see ye old friend." He watched as the old man yawned, a his body tensing and a pained expression crossing his face. "Should I call for yer niece? Is there something I can get ye?" Smee waved a hand weakly.
"Don't need to be bothering Anna. She's already done enough taking her dodgy old uncle in for his last days." Harry was about to argue but Smee waved him off again. Harry watched as the man pulled his glasses from his face and rubbed his eyes, "I'm dying Harry. Not more than a few days if I had to say so myself. It's ok though, son." Harry swallowed hard at the man's choice of words and felt something clench in his stomach. "I've had a good life as far as pirates go. I've seen the Seven Seas and wealth and riches untold. I served under the greatest pirate the world has ever seen. I have loved and lost. I have lived." His eyes fell to Harry searchingly.
"But I bet your wondering why've I've called you here-"
"I never though' to question it" Harry interrupted, "Ye said ye needed me, so I came. For ye, old friend, I'd move heaven and hell." Smee smiled tiredly.
"You'd move Heaven and Hell, aye, that's a good lad, but maybe you could refrain from interrupting me?" Harry had the good grace to look embarrassed.
"Aye, Smee, I can do that as well."
"Good," The old man cleared his throat once than twice, finally motioning to a pitcher of water on his desk. Harry retrieved him a glass which he took with shaky hands. He coughed a little as he tried to swallow and, again, waved away Harry's attempts at help. "Now as I was saying" he continued like nothing had happened, "I've asked you here for a reason and I can't say it was to see me laying up in this bed. I don't want to be remembered this way." The last part was said so quietly Harry was scarce sure he heard it but was more than sure it wasn't said for him. "What I need from you is two-fold lad." Harry nodded as the man continued, "I need you to listen to my story, one I should have told you a long time ago. Afterwards I need you to make me a promise." It was in Harry's nature to question everything but he held his tongue on nodded in consent.
"Very well," His face grew somber as he began his story. "I'd like to tell you about your Mum." The old man searched his face for any hesitation, finding none he continued. "I served under The Captain for the better part of my existence. He was the most exquisitely brutal and singularly driven pirates I have ever had the honor to work with." Harry's body tensed. His Father was a sore subject to say the least, he'd spent years trying to earn James Hook's respect but had never been deemed a true pirate in his Da's eyes.
"Now, Harry, as I see these things you need to know, there are only two things I've ever questioned your Father's judgement on. The first was your mother. The second is you." The old man leaned forward stretching and twisting. He pointed weakly to a pillow at the foot of his bed, "Could you?" He motioned to the young pirate. Harry quickly obliged and wedged the pillow behind his back and adjusted it til his friend was settled again. "Your Father told you your mother was a tramp, a floozy that ran off as soon as she could. It's not true, Harry. Your Mother loved you with all her heart."
"Why did she leave me than?" Harry hated the way his own voice sounded, little and sad. His Father had told him for years he was unwanted by his mother, a burden she was not willing to bear. He couldn't remember her, not really, so all he'd had to go off was the word of a man who was supposed to love him.
Smee didn't answer his question, instead he asked one of her own, "What do you know of Merfolk?" Harry smiled a sad little smile.
"Da said they were vile, tempestuous creatures. They drag sailors, and little boys who don't listen, into the dark depths and gnaw the flesh from their bones." A half dozen times in his life Harry had believed he'd seen a creature of the depths with the fin of a fish and the and the body of a woman watching him from her far off vantage point. Whenever he'd tried to point her out she'd vanished as if into thin air leaving him with a laughing pirate, or worse, an angry violent father. After a while he'd stopped seeing her, enough beatings had encouraged he no longer look.
"James could be a foolish man. He would mess in affairs he had no business in." he shook his head before continuing "Your Mum was a mermaid, in every sense of the word." Harry stared blankly at the man and Smee took it as a cue to continue. "Your Mother's name was Mira and she was the most beautiful creature I'd ever layed my eyes on. She had hair the color of Caribbean waters and eyes! Oh her eyes were like yours, bright and curious. Now, you favor your Father in many respects, the cut of your jaw, the color of your hair, your stature. But, your eyes, your lips, your wee nose. Those are all from your Mum."
"Now, you must know that mermaids are a curious species and have a tendency to be rather vain. Your mother was so young and no exception to the rule. That is how your Father captured her in the first place. He plied her onto the ship with promises of pretty gem stones and shiny silver mirrors, music and food. He promised her everything the little creature could dream of. Its a strange thing how a mermaid out of water can change her fins our for legs but alas, can not change them back without the touch of sea water." He sounded like he was picturing it his head, a far away dreamy look in his eyes, "Mermaids, unicorns, harpies, all creatures rich in magic and wonder have one weakness, Harry. Iron forged by the hands of men binds them. The Captain had prepared this elaborate rouse by the time she knew that something was amiss he had shackled her ankles. She had no time to think."
Harry ran a hand roughly through his hair, "This is true, now? Yer not...I don't know. I don't know what te think, what te say." Smee smile was peaceful and sage, all knowing.
"Don't say anything. Just listen. Now, as I was saying your Father trapped her, bound her to the ship as no pirate was ever so great as to have him his own mermaid except for James Hook. He spent many o'hours with the girl. He may have even loved her in his own way, or at least been in love with the thought of her" Smee's smile faltered than fell and Harry felt the bile rise in his throat as he continued, "Mira was not of the same mindset."
"She fought your Da for a while, and she paid the price as I'm sure you remember. Your Father never tolerated disobedience." Harry could never forget his Da's punishments doled out under the guise of ' for his own good'.
"Eventually, she fell pregnant with you." He watched almost panicked as the color drained from the younger man's face, "Now, Harry, no matter how you came into existence you need to to know that your Mother loved you beyond all bounds. From the moment she first felt you wiggle in her belly she couldn't get enough of you."
"How do you know this?"
"She told me as much. I was the only man your Father trusted around his prized treasure. I was her confidant and though I could not protect her, I could be her shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen. When you were born that dark, stormy night the heavens broke loose with a storm the likes of which I haven't seen before or since. The Roger near lost her mast and the sail were torn beyond repair. The crew whispered it was Poseidon's anger that one of his children, for you see all Merfolk are children of Poseidon, had born a half blood babe. Your mother had such hope. She'd prayed to her Gods that you'd be more like her than your father, that she could escape with you into the sea. Alas, you were born with feet not fins, and not a gill was to be found on you." He paused for a moment and Harry listened as his quiet wheezing breaths filled the room.
"You're Father took interest in your birth, a son! Finally, he had an heir to his name other than your sister. And you of magic blood, you'd be destined for great things!" Smee watched Harry's eyes fall to his hands, fidgeting with his fingers. "Look at me, son." He murmured reaching for the younger man and grasping his hand weakly, "You are still destined for great things, your Father be damned." Harry's eyes widened. In all the time he'd known Smee he'd never talked about the Captain with such venom in his voice.
"Your Mother loved singing to you the songs of her people. They were sweet songs though I can't say I know what a one of them was about but you seemed to. She'd hold you to her breast and she'd sing and you'd nurse yourself right to sleep and she'd sing on and on." Harry could see the sheen of tears left unshed in the older mans eyes and felt his own threatening to spill over.
"Mermaids are not meant to be out of the water for long. Their souls are tied to the tides and their bodies sing for the splash of salt water on their flesh. She'd already been without the touch of the ocean for a year when she had you. It took a tole on her body. Her skin became sallow, and her pretty locks went limp. She stayed because she couldn't bear the thought of leaving you but it finally became to much for her. Her body began to shut down. I gave her the only option I knew. I gave her the key."
"You were barely toddling around the night she disappeared. You tried going to her and she kissed you on your wee head before she handed you to me. She made me promise I'd protect you when she could not. It was the only time I've ever turned traitor on my Captain." The a single tear rolled down his pale cheek, he let it flow. "I'd do it again in a heart beat."
Harry still held the older mans hand in his own and he squeezed it reassuringly. "There is so much more I could tell you about her but I am tired now and I fear I'll need to sleep again soon." Harry nodded. Smee paused than before speaking again, "I want you to know if I had ever had a son, I would have hoped for nothing more than for him to be like you." Harry felt his own tears fall than.
"What was the promise you needed me to make?"
Harry hadn't been gone a few hours when word reached the inn he'd chosen that William Smee had died. He sat alone in stunned silence. "Fairwinds and followings seas, old friend". Tears began to fall and didn't stop until he'd fallen into a fitful sleep.
Two days later found Harry wading waist deep into a small lagoon, the one Smee had made him promise his body be brought to. He was alone with the body of his oldest friend as had been requested. Harry placed the ferryman's payment in the mans mouth before he'd wrapped in the white shroud and binding him securely with rope. Smee had made it clear he wasn't to be left to the sea until the ebbing tide could take his body out. The sun was sinking low in the sky, lighting it with burnt oranges and dazzling reds, a beautiful send off for man who'd spent a lifetime at sea. As he lay the body into the water Harry watched as, one by one, heads and bodies began to poke out above the waves. He held his breath as the creatures came closer. Merfolk. He wanted to snatch his friend back up, run away afraid. His Father's word rang through his ears but something at his core tugged him in further. His blood sang as the waves pushed and pulled. These were his people as much as anyone on land was. These were his Mother's people. They swam in closer; woman, men, small children. A pair of men bowed to him before easing the body of the only man that had ever shown him an ounce of love further out of his grasp. A voice at his side startled him.
"He was a friend to the Merpeople. He freed a lost daughter at great cost to himself." It was a woman. The most beautiful he'd ever seen. She looked on him, her sad eyes scanning him from head to toe as if trying to memorize every detail. In her eyes he saw his own. This was the face he'd seen so many times in the distance, in his dreams. Her aquamarine hair was interspersed with wisps of silver, the only thing giving her age away. Her skin was smooth and free of blemishes bar for familiar family crest branded into the meat of her right upper arm. The scar was ugly and pink and stood out against the rest of beauty. Harry's voice was but a whisper when he spoke.
"Mother?" She nodded her head quietly, reaching out a hand tentatively.
"Can I?" She asked, "I mean, may I touch you?" He took a step toward her nodding once in permission. Her hand was wet and cool as it gently grazed his cheek and he leaned into it, eyes fluttering shut as he did. When he opened them she was crying freely.
"My baby, He kept you safe."