Daniel's St. Patrick's Day Treasure
Author's Note: Happy St. Patrick's Day. Thanks to Mary for beta-reading this. This can be considered either a Day On or not a Day On story. It's up to you readers. Daniel and Mrs. Muir do not belong to me, but to R.A. Dick and to Fox. Seamus is, however, mine.
St. Patrick's Day, 1965
Captain Daniel Gregg glared at the miserable excuse of a facility that Schooner Bay had decided was "fit" to be a Seaman's Home. Once again, he cursed the misfortune that had prevented his home at Gull Cottage from serving in that capacity. However, there was nothing to be done about it. He would just attend to his business here and be on his way. Silently and invisibly, he drifted into one of the rooms where an impossibly old man lay propped up on several pillows as he stared at nothing. Suddenly, the wrinkled face was transformed from blankness into a broad smile.
"Danny Boy. How good to see ye again, Captain," Seamus Brogan chuckled in delight.
The ghost materialized fully, though if anyone had peeked into the dimly lit room, he would not have seen anything but a wizened little man talking to himself.
Once upon a time, Seamus had been a cabin boy on Captain Gregg's last ship, but those days were long past. Now, at a hundred and eight, each day that he drew breath was something of a miracle. When the Captain had learned he was still alive and in the Seaman's Home, the ghost had stopped in to check on Mr. Brogan. To his amazement, the diminutive man had been able to see him. Since Seamus had no family, or at least none that bothered to come visit, Daniel had taken to dropping in every few weeks for a chat. It was - pleasant - to have someone to talk to that was not that miserable piece of blighted seaweed that persisted in calling himself Daniel's great-nephew.
"You're going to have to find yourself a new friend soon, Captain Danny," Seamus informed him. "I'm not long for this world."
"Don't be ridiculous," the Captain soothed. "You've lots of life in you yet, and even if you don't, perhaps you'll be a ghost."
The old man just shook his head. "Nay, lad. I will neither live long, nor be a spirit. I just know this, don't ask me how." He paused, then fixed the seaman with a bright stare. "I will tell ye this, though, something ye've been wonderin' all these years. I'm gonna tell ye how I can see ye, even when ye didna intend to be seen." He grinned with obvious satisfaction.
"All right. How?" Daniel asked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back to regard his former cabin boy.
"Because, ye see, I'm half-leprechaun. That's why I've managed to live for so long," Seamus announced proudly. "My mother was a human, but dad was one of the Fair Folk." He frowned. "Now, don't go giving me that look, sir, like ye're humoring me. I speak the truth. Ye ought to be more open to such ideas, seeing's how ye're what ye are." His scowl deepened and he shook his head. "Just for that doubt, I should not give ye the gift I've a mind to hand over to ye today."
"Well, there is not much in the way of material goods that will do me much good, Seamus," Daniel consoled. "However, if you are a leprechaun, half of one, that is, who am I to quibble over it?"
"Hmph. I suppose that's as much of an apology as I'm likely to get from ye. More than ninety-nine percent of all people have ever gotten in the way of one from the Great Daniel Gregg, I reckon!" The grin returned. "Now, Captain Danny, I know full well that a ghost doesn't need too much, aside from a wee dram of Madeira now and then, eh? But, what I've got for ye will do ye good, I guarantee." He nodded sagely. "Now, be a good lad and open the drawer in my nightstand."
Daniel gestured and the drawer slid open.
"Ye'll see a gold coin in there, aye?"
The ghost walked over and peered into the dark space. For a moment, he only saw a box of tissues, some reading glasses, a trial sized soap, and a well-worn Gideon Bible. Then, he saw, almost as if it was materializing, a single gold coin.
"Had to use my magic to hide it until I was ready to give it away, now didn't I?" Mr. Brogan winked. "Go on and take it, sir. It's for you. Anyone who is as kind as ye have been to a poor old leprechaun is entitled to get the last bit of his treasure."
Daniel hesitated. "Seamus, I can't take your only valuable thing."
The old man glared. "See here, it's almost time for me to go and I'll not leave a debt unpaid."
"What will I do with gold? You know anything valuable winds up in Claymore's greedy hands, anyway," Daniel demurred.
"Ha. Ye've hidden treasures from that scoundrel before. But, I bet ye'll find out, sooner or later, that he's not all that bad. And as to what ye'll do with it, just keep it. It's not to spend." Seamus broke off in a cough.
Daniel reached out reflexively to try and help, but was waved off. "I'm fine, thank ye all the same. Just keep it. Some day, maybe in a week, maybe longer, ye'll get a real treasure, something that will make your afterlife a Heaven on Earth. Ye won't be expecting it. All the same, it's on the horizon, sir, that it is." Seamus Brogan's head bobbed to emphasize his affirmation. "Go on now, take it."
To appease him, Daniel pocketed the coin and shut the drawer.
"Thank ye, sir, for all your kindness to me. Be sure and give my regards to your lady love when ye see her." With a small sigh, he closed his eyes and fell into an eternal rest. Then, Daniel watched as the renewed spirit of the last of his crewmen sailed toward the light. Blasted if he didn't look like he had pointed ears!
March, 1970
As Daniel gathered what was needed for a St. Patrick's Day toast with Mrs. Muir, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the gleam of a gold coin. Setting the glasses aside, he picked up the shining piece of metal. Turning his eyes toward Heaven, he whispered, "Very well, Seamus, you were right." He paused. "Thank you."