The Schooner Bay Home for Invalid and Indigent Seamen

"Fires"

Chapter 3: Fire in the Heart

High above the bay, there was hardly any scent of the fire left in Gull Cottage. Carolyn and Amy were busily helping Martha assemble a big breakfast when the men returned. They were sweaty, dirty, tired but very hungry. In quick order they devoured the platters of eggs, waffles, bacon, and bread. The pots of butter and jam looked like they had been licked clean and Martha was hard-pressed to keep the coffee flowing. The only one who didn't have a big, hearty breakfast was Charlie Fish.

Charlie had once had a working-man's appetite, but when his heart had started acting up a few years back, he found that he felt better eating a lighter diet, taking off a few unnecessary pounds and easing up on the coffee and whiskey. He had been able to pull his weight on the Lass of the Bay, which pleased him greatly, but left him feeling very, very tired. He took a few bites of scrambled egg a half-piece of toast and a small cup of milky coffee and then sat in his chair with his eyes half-closed. His roommate and life-long companion, Peter, looked at him with concern. Charlie looked a little paler than usual and definitely very tired.

"Is your 'ticker' bothering you?" he asked in a whisper. Charlie shook his head "No". He opened his eyes fully, "I just need a good nap."

Next on the morning's agenda was getting the men cleaned up. Red, of course, had his own bathroom in Wren Cottage, and later Amy would bring his dirty clothes over to be washed. In Gull Cottage there was only one tub, and by unstated agreement, Nate was always the first one to use it. Peter, Charlie, Sock and Sam elected to take water up to their rooms and wash themselves there, while Joe and Hannibal helped Martha clean the kitchen and the dishes while they waited their turn in the tub.

Soon neat piles of dirty, salt-and-smoke-smelling clothing lined the upper hallways of Gull Cottage and Carolyn with Captain Gregg's assistance collected them and brought them to the washroom. Martha had already turned her attention to the large laundry tub, throwing in the soap along with her special "fragrant tea" made from last year's flowers and distilled over the winter which she used whenever the laundry was particularly ripe. She turned to see Mrs. Muir enter with a tall man in seaman's garb, and for a moment she took him to be Captain Biggs. But this man had dark hair and astoundingly sea-blue eyes. And he looked exactly like the portrait over the sitting room mantle. She stopped, mid-gesture, momentarily at loss for any sort of thought at all. Then everything clicked into place; the conversations between Mrs. Muir and a masculine voice in her bedroom/office late at night, the times she had seen Nate sitting in his favorite chair in the parlor, facing the portrait speaking to it and waiting a bit as if he were being answered in a voice she could not hear, and Amy's occasional giggles whenever she was cleaning in there.

"So it's true? The ghost of Captain Gregg walks the halls of Gull Cottage?" she half-whispered to Carolyn.

"Yes, indeed. Martha Grant, may I present Captain Daniel Gregg, late of Gull Cottage?"

The ghost bowed gracefully in the older woman's direction, a dashing smile on his face. "It is my pleasure, Mrs. Grant. While at the beginning of this enterprise I was displeased at the thought of you and Mrs. Muir taking up residence in my home, I quickly came to appreciate you both and have happily observed how you have taken the men to your hearts and everything you do to keep them healthy and happy. And I must admit that I have indulged myself with a bite of you cooking now and then, and you are truly a talented cook. If you had worked for me before my demise, I would have needed much larger clothes, if I do say so!"

Martha became quite pale. A ghost here before her, complimenting her and admitting to actually eating?! He also had one hand on Mrs. Muir's shoulder, and he looked as alive as anyone else in the house. If Amy hadn't come in through the back door with Red's clothing at that moment, Martha was sure she would faint.

"Oh, Captain Gregg!" the young woman exclaimed, "I thought you were supposed to be a secret."

"Well, yes my dear girl, but there comes a time when most secrets need to be exposed. I think this is the time. As soon as the immediate uproar over the calamity calms down the townspeople will begin to realize that some things occurred during the fire-fighting that cannot be attributed to any known person or otherwise explained. I think it best that I slowly start to make my presence known so that the townspeople understand and do not fear me. What do you think?"

Amy thought hard for a few moments. This was a very difficult question to think through. She knew Daniel Gregg and had no fear of him. In fact, she was quite fond of him. But she knew that people generally feared ghosts. And there was a whole village of people to introduce him to. Still…

"I think," she began slowly, her forehead knotted in concentration, "I think that if you behave yourself, and don't make any thunderstorms for a while, and are polite to people, they will learn that they have nothing to fear. After all, I like you. Why wouldn't everyone else?" Of course, to Amy everyone was a friend, and it was hard for her to understand why others didn't approach all people that way.

Daniel smiled and bowed before kissing Amy's hand. "Thank you, Amy. I will take your advice, be on my best behavior and hope that you will put in a good word for me when I first make myself known to others."

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By common consensus, all of the men of Schooner Bay's Seaman's Home would take a good long nap until mid-afternoon. Despite the sudden, anxiety-born flash of strength and vigor, they were older men, and some were not in the best of health anymore. By the time the laundry was being hung on the line to dry, silence reigned in the hallways of Gull Cottage while a gentle breeze stirred the curtains in the rooms of the house.

The scent of the roses surrounding the house and the honeysuckle vines creeping up the trellis by the back door grew with the heat of the day and blew through the house as well. The only sounds heard on the upper floors were the deep breathing of sleep and an occasional snore.

Martha and Carolyn were sitting down to a late lunch before resuming their afternoon activities, when Captain Biggs arrived. He looked tired and fairly disheveled, and he admitted that he hadn't stopped moving or been home since before the lawn party the day before. He had stopped by to make sure the men were all well, but before he could even explain his errand, the two women dragged him into the kitchen and pressed a plate spilling over with food on him and poured him a tankard of home-brewed ale. When he had taken the edge off his hunger and thirst, he finally asked about his elderly "crew".

"They were concerned of course about the loss of the large schooner, but I think they enjoyed being useful on your ship," replied Carolyn with a large smile. "You gave them back their youth for a few hours. Now they are all sleeping."

"And probably dreaming of hauling lines, dropping anchors and all the other things you do on a schooner!" added Martha.

"They were one of the best crews I've ever had, ladies. They were level-headed and didn't need to be told twice what to do, and I'd be hard put to say that about just about any other group of seamen." He stopped for a moment, an embarrassed smile rising to his face. "But there was someone else there…."

"Oh?" Mrs. Muir asked, hoping to lead him forward.

"Yes. I know you will think that I've been in the sun too long, that I've been on the sea too many years. Still, I saw him, even spoke a few words with him. And I thought I saw him handing you buckets of seawater, Mrs. Muir."

She felt sorry for Samuel Biggs. He was a kind man, but not the sort to be talking about visions of spirits or even all the superstition of those that make their living on the ocean. She placed her hand gently on his shirt-sleeve.

"What you saw was no delusion, Captain. Daniel Gregg has not left Schooner Bay. He is caught between our world and the next but is not a vengeful spirit. In fact, he takes great pleasure in overseeing the happenings in the Home and makes sure that all the inhabitants remain safe."

Biggs exhaled. "So I'm not…."

"Samuel, you're as sane as I am!" retorted Captain Gregg as he materialized in the kitchen. He offered the other man his hand, but Biggs was too stunned to take it, so the spirit slapped him on the shoulder, just as he used to do in life. That helped bring the living sea captain back to reality.

"Daniel, you have to know that there were many times I doubted your sanity. Now, seeing you here, I am convinced that you are insane. If you're not, then I am. Afterall, who would willing stay a specter in their old abode when they could continue on to Heaven?"

Captain Gregg sat down between Biggs and Carolyn, accepting half a tankard of cold ale from Martha, and set to explaining what had happened following his death and the results on his afterlife of creating his beloved Home. Biggs hadn't intended to stay as long as he did, but the offer of food and the ability to speak with his old friend kept him sitting at the kitchen table for more than two hours.

Upstairs, Peter was sleeping deeply, dreaming of the sounds of rigging in a high wind. He and Charlie had gone 'round the Cape of Good Hope and Cape Horn in the cold Antarctic waters, enough times to have that sound embedded in their souls. But it had been so long ago that they had made one of those voyages. Why was he hearing it now? Slowly his mind rose out of its sleep state and still the strange keening/groaning sound persisted. He opened his eyes just enough to know that he was in his bed in Gull Cottage on a warm afternoon. The sound was still there. And so was Charlie.

Charlie!

It was Charlie groaning. Peter sat upright to see the other man in his own bed, his right hand clutching his left bicep where the tattoo of the anchor had been printed long ago.

"Charlie, is it the angina?"

"Worse," the other man got out through gritted teeth. His skin had taken on a greenish color and his eyes were tightly closed as he grimaced through the crushing pain.

Peter didn't say any more. He jumped up, neglecting to put on his carpet slippers, and ran downstairs calling for Mrs. Muir. She knew immediately who was calling her and why and left the kitchen to go to her office and the locked cabinet of medicines. For a year, she had kept it stocked with digitalis for Charlie's heart, and had used it on several occasions when his "ticker" was causing pain. But something in Peter's voice and the way he was flying down the stairs told her this was worse.

Moments later, Peter was holding Charlie up in bed as Carolyn spooned the bitter liquid into his mouth. It only took a few minutes for it to work, but she knew that the crushing pain could come back any moment. Captain Biggs had followed her up the stairs, and above them, Socks had been awakened by the commotion and had come down to see what was happening.

She slipped automatically into "command mode". "Peter, lay Charlie down and put a couple of pillows under his knees and then lie down with him. Sock, get dressed and go into town and get Dr. Everly. Captain Biggs, why don't you go into town with Sock. You need some sleep yourself."

"I'd rather stay here and help any way I can." he replied, but Carolyn was adamant. As she ran back down to her office to gather a few implements and her daybook, she chided him. "Right now, the best thing you can do to help me is to leave. I've got Martha and Amy to help and soon I'll have six more seamen gathering around."

Late that afternoon, Dr. Everly stopped to speak with her in her office, agreeing with her assessment that Charlie had experienced a significant heart attack. He was resting comfortably, and Peter remained with him, but for the next four days he was to stay in bed. Then they could get him up, but he wasn't to walk up and down the stairs. The best would be to find somewhere on the ground floor for him to stay so that he could share meals with the other men and be able to go out and walk to build his strength up again.

At dinner time, Peter had taken a large tray upstairs so that he and Charlie could eat together. When he came back down with the dirty dishes, Mrs. Muir asked him, Martha, Red and Amy to stay and talk with her. He was concerned about leaving his companion alone, but the other men promised to visit with him a bit so that Peter could stay in the galley.

Carolyn quickly explained what the doctor had told her about Charlie's recovery and what was needed. It hadn't taken her long at all to realize that the best solution would be to have Amy and Red move into the bedroom Peter and Charlie shared and let them stay in Wren Cottage until Dr. Everly allowed Charlie to climb stairs again. She was sure that it wouldn't be more than a few weeks. Certainly no more than two or three. Fortunately Red and Amy were more than willing to oblige, so that was one thing that she didn't have to worry about. What worried her more now, was how much damage was likely done to Charlie's heart and how much more that would limit his ability to participate in day-to-day activities. He was an independent sort, as all the men really were, and he and Peter had managed his heart issues pretty well over the time she knew them. She didn't want to see him spend his days in a rocking chair watching the world go by.

The kitchen was cleaned, some of the men went outside to enjoy the sunset and the breeze coming up over the water, and some of the others went up to their rooms and prepared for an early night, being still tired from their heroics of the night before.

Carolyn sat down at her desk and began to write in her daybook. Besides recording the status of the men in degrees of temperature and pulse per minute, she liked to write a narrative of each day's happenings. The evening's gloom was beginning to gather, so she lit the oil lamp on her desk and picked up her steel-nibbed pen and opened the bottle of blue-black ink. As she dipped her pen into it, Captain Gregg materialized in the guest chair next to her.

"My dear, how are you doing after the last two days? It's been quite a run of bad winds, hasn't it?"

"Yes, I suppose it has. But that is the way life goes. And for you, how do things go?" she asked.

"Ah, well, it is different for me. I am not immortal but am nearly invulnerable in my state, so doing what I did yesterday caused me no harm, nor could it. But" he replied, taking her hand and looking sadly into her beautiful green eyes, "it hurts to see any of the men doing badly."

"Do you know what the future will bring, Daniel?"

"No, Carolyn. And I would not share that knowledge with you if I did know. I trust, as you do, that things will work out as they are intended to. After all, when Wren Cottage was built, no one ever thought of this alternate use for it, but it is here, just when needed."

As the rest of the men slowly came in from the outside, Mrs. Muir and Captain Gregg continued their conversation, talking about Charlie, the fire and introducing him, Gull Cottage's own spirit, slowly to the remaining seamen and then the town at large. Finally, when the rest of the house was quiet, together they went to lock up the doors and windows and then to check on the men upstairs. When they looked into Charlie and Peter's room, they found the two of them in Charlie's bed, spooned together, sleeping peacefully.