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Mermaid Stew
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once I sat upon a promontory
And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin’s back,
Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath
That the rude sea grew civil at her song,
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres
To hear the sea-maid’s music.
- William Shakespeare
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Lost to the sirens
that call from the turbulent tide,
Bound by the science
that lives on the lips of
- Justice
Civilization
the dreamers
- Ode
Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy
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Perched like a seagull on the rock outcropping, Mermaid Stew scanned the ocean expectantly. Staring out over the water was one of his favorite pastimes and, given the opportunity, The Brew D’Agon’s apprentice chef would spent long hours watching the waves and tides. Stew smiled wistfully as he watched and waited. He didn’t mind waiting, as long as he knew she was also there somewhere under the surface, someday to return to him.
Many years ago (and half a world away), as a privileged child of an aristocratic ruling class, Stew had imagined a pirate’s life full of constant excitement. Many years later, after falling further than he had once imagined possible, after becoming a pirate himself, he had learned the truth… most of a pirate’s life was filled with basic sailoring and watching and waiting. Occasionally, of course, in between the long waits were intense moments that forever altered your life in such a way that you never after regretted the waiting. The act of waiting changed; it became something more — if you were one of the chosen few. Stew smiled and sighed the Brew D’Agon corpirate mantra.
“D’Agon fhtagn.”
As he watched the sunlight sparkle on the waves, Stew’s mind began to lazily drift into his favorite daydream. When he stared out at the waves, he always half-expected to see one of her tail fins flicker out from the depths. She did enjoy teasing him like that: allowing him the occasional glimpse of her tails, or other more provocative parts of her chimerical anatomy, when she knew he could not touch her.
This is the story of how Stew’s true fall began. Just such a moment caused the man once known as Baron Stuart Sinclair Athol Brown III to be redubbed “Mermaid Stew”. This was the reason for his tendency to lapse into long winded sermons about mermaids. That was the moment his life had begun to change, when he first saw her, and not (as some would believe) when he had been forced into exile.
I, the author, will not stray into a tangential discussion of the Hanoverian displacement of the Stuart royal dynasty. Interested readers need only consult any English History textbook to learn more on the subject. Suffice it to say, Stuart was one of many former minor nobility in this era who continued to plot to return to power from foreign lands. And, like many of his ilk, Stuart conspired to return from the sea. This is why he had ended up among pirates. This is how and why he chose to come aboard The Brew D'Agon. In this aspect, he was unique among his peers, for none of them had been invited. And it was aboard The Brew D’Agon, as he dreamed of vengeful justice while gazing out across the waves, that he had first seen her flickering tails.
Stew often remembered the moonlit night in that placid lagoon, months later, when the taboo had been lifted, and she had finally been allowed to speak to him. That rapturous night, the couple had joined in ways that would be impossible if traditional stories of mermaids were true. This was how Stew always knew if someone had really seen a mermaid or if they were just repeating another sailor's fish tale. Real mermaids had twin tails, like human have twin legs, and in between those two tails – well, Stewart may be famous for his tales of mermaids, but there are some truths he would never divulge. Neither will I.
A tell-tale splash in the surf caught Mermaid Stew’s attention. First an arm, then a human head and torso broke the surface and rode the wave all the way in to the shore. Mermaid Stew had already scrambled down from the rock, and was running down the beach, yelling to get the Padre’s attention.
“Ready the net! Man ho!”
Caspar Pietro Marco Sarducci, known to his friends as the Padre, looked up from the book he was reading, and saw Louis struggling in the waves. Caspar set his book down and jumped up to gather the net laying nearby on the sand. Stew caught up to him as he was dragging the net into the surf. Together they flung it out around The Brew D’Agon’s sputtering helmsman. Arthur Aquino and Rob the Hook came running out of the trees behind the beach to help haul their crewmate out of the water. Arthur called out the cadence.
“Heave! Ho! Yo! Ho!”
Stew grabbed Louis’ arm and helped him drag himself from the water’s edge.
“Spit it out and breathe, man! Ha ha ha! You made it!”
He slapped Louis on the back and spoke encouragingly as the half-drowned and exhausted man coughed out seawater, sputtering and gasping for air. The Padre waited a few moments to make certain Louis was going to survive, before signaling with a wave of his arm towards the tree line. He knelt next to Louis and spoke in a calming voice.
“Relax, my friend. Rest a bit. Gather your strength. Stew has fresh water and a light snack for you as well. There’s more food and stronger drink at the mission. The Right Honourable Reverend Doctor had everything prepared for your arrival. When you’re rested enough to travel, we have wagons waiting nearby. Our friend Stew told me you went mad and fell overboard during a storm, so I figured you were lost forever. The Right Honourable Reverend Doctor said you would wash ashore here, dead or alive. Appears he was right, again. Welcome back, my brother. Welcome to the Spice Islands. D’Agon fhtagn.”
Louis lay on his back with his eyes closed, too exhausted to even nod that he understood. Stew dribbled some fresh water on Louis’ lips every few minutes. After some time, Louis opened his eyes. Phoenix was kneeling by his shoulders, watching him expectantly. A tear of joy ran down her cheek as Louis raised a hand toward her. He opened his hand to show her the red gemstone in his palm. Her laugh was as warm as the sunshine. Her face was aglow with the same light.
“I know, beloved. Hold on to it. It’s yours. All of us here already have ours. They’re just baubles, though, tokens to prove to ourselves the journey was not a delusion. The real treasure is inside you. It always has been. There’s so much more to tell you but it can wait until you are healed and ready. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before. No one can tell you about the secret treasure. Everyone has to find out on their own.”
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I wait on you
inside
- Missio
Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea
hidden
in the depths
- Frank Herbert & Bill Ransom
The Jesus Incident
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Arthur feels the moment, the nowness, as he surveys the scene on the beach. Mermaid Stew and the Padre are halfway to the treeline, hauling the net back to the wagons. Louis is flat on his back in the sand, his head on Phoenix's lap. Arthur wraps an arm around Rob's waist and pulls him close. Rob leans in and plants a quick kiss on Arthur's fuzzy cheek. A wave of love flows through Arthur. He waves thankfully to the open ocean, then turns to return the kiss. A few hundred yards from shore, a titanic tentacle waves farewell as it slips once more under the waves.
D'Agon fhtagn.
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I'd like to be under the sea
in an octopus' garden with you
- The Beatles
Octopus's Garden
We are building a religion.
- Cake
Comfort Eagle
A fictitious religion
- en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bokonism
A limited edition
- Cake
Comfort Eagle
"for/to the most beautiful"
- www.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apple_of_Discord
We are now
- Cake
Comfort Eagle
having the bake sale of the year
- Clutch
10001110101
Licking her chops
She looks at the lunatics
- Kongos
I’m Only Joking
With a word
she can get what she came for
- Led Zeppelin
Stairway to Heaven
Should you be so lucky
To hear whisperin’
It is an invitation
- Clutch
Drink to the Dead
If you can’t,
then it doesn’t matter anyway
- Faith No More
Epic
I’m only joking
I don’t believe a thing I’ve said
What are you smoking?
I’m just a-fucking with your head
Only a crazy little thing I read
- Kongos
I’m Only Joking
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