Chapter 8

The next morning was overcast, and a slight drizzle of rain swept over Brigodston. Skiff had intended to visit the park that morning, but the sudden change in weather had otherwise confined him to the office. It was his day off, and the long narrow corridors of the council house were somewhat ominous in their solitude. Since bringing back the pearl, Mayor Blair had granted him residence in the council homes, so that he didn't have to trek back and forth each morning and night after a day's work. Skiff didn't mind too much, he could hardly complain about the assets and privileges of council home life. But it was right in the centre of the town, about as far away from the sea as any other point in the island. Sitting in his new bedroom he could see over the houses out towards the wide open ocean, but looking at it was so much different to sailing upon it.

Whenever there was a large enough gap in his timetable, Skiff would go right back to the harbour and sit, sometimes for hours on end, on the beach or the harbour wall with his ankles dangling into the shallow shore. It gave him a sense of peace. Perhaps it was a genetic thing that made him love the sea so much, it certainly felt innate. All the sailor knew was that the ocean felt more like home to him than any of the riches of the council house, but at the same time, was much harder to obtain. That was something Skiff explicitly remembered his father telling him, only a week before Finn's sailing accident. As the boy and his father had sat in the sailboat, Skiff had exclaimed that he'd like it better if they could stay sailing forever and that he never wanted to return to shore. Finn had chuckled at this, and told him that home was one of the most important things a man or woman could own. Skiff had replied that the ocean was his home, to which his bemused father had explained that the ocean could not be mortgaged, that they had their home, and should leave the fishes to theirs.

"Then I wanna be a little fishy!" Skiff had giggled.

"Then I'd have to catch you!" Finn wrapped his arms around his son's waist and had tickled him mercilessly till he squealed in surrender.

It was moments and memories like this Skiff treasured the most, knowing those were the least replicable. That's the reason they were the most precious in the first place.

Eventually, Skiff retreated into the sitting area, which was the largest room in the building (apart from the foyer.) Usually a long, serious black table was pulled into the centre for important town meetings, but at the moment it was being used casually. Lucy Blair's children were seated on two of the chairs by the fireplace. Dan noticed him, and beckoned him over with a wave of his hand.

"Hey Skiff! Come and sit with us"

Skiff sat gingerly in one of the empty chairs. Despite working for their mother, Skiff hadn't interacted much with the Blair siblings, nor had he forgotten Dan's threat from a few months before. Now however, the man was acting uncharacteristically friendly, asking about the pearl and the sailor's new duties. Skiff answered them politely, but stared at the floor, feeling somewhat intimated.

"Nelly can you grab us all some drinks?"

"Sure" The sister got up and turned to Skiff "Whatcha want?"

"Oh uh, water will be fine I guess"

"Bring the tea set too" Dan requested. Nelly nodded and bounced off to the kitchen. As soon as she'd disappeared around the corner, Dan leant forwards in his seat, looking serious.

"Say Skiff, do you know those three Pescecorp men?"

"I ... know OF them" the fisherman gulped. Dan's eyebrows furrowed in the centre.

"See, I've noticed Nelly and that ponytailed one making eyes at each other"

"Oh" Was all Skiff could think of to say. Dan didn't seem satisfied with this.

"And well, I don't think he's quite her type" The man leant forwards so far now he was practically at the edge of his seat "I heard they lost quite a lot of money recently and well, I wouldn't want my sister being with that sort of crowd. I'm thinking someone ... high up"

Skiff could feel the cool grey eyes on him, but he didn't like the insinuation.

"I uh, no I don't think so"

"Is there someone else?"

"Someone el- no no! I'm just not uhh ..." Skiff couldn't quite explain that he was, quite frankly, somewhat scared of the Blair siblings. And to be quite frank, not attracted to either of them in that way. He drank his water in silence once Nelly returned.

When Skiff approached his council home that night, he noticed a sign on the door. It was a little yellow sticky note that merely said 'East Dock'. This didn't mean anything to the sailor until he got into his room. The east dock was the one he could see from his bedroom window, and there some sort of light flashing on the pier. With trepidation, Skiff grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and went down to see what was so important.

Someone had left a large floor lamp on the dock, the kind they use at circuses and theatres. That was the second mystery. What on earth was that doing on the pier? Skiff crouched down to check the sides, and that's when he felt something whack him in the back of the head. He tripped forwards, hitting his head off the side of the lamp. Something warm ran down the side of his face. Before he even had time to turn around to see what had bumped him, he found himself caught in a tussle. A gag was thrown over his mouth; his arms were tied tightly behind his back, and something heavy was clamped around one ankle. There was a bit more scuffling as Skiff was suddenly thrown off the pier onto something shallow. After a few moments in which he got a sense of his bearings, he realised it was the floor of a motorboat. There wasn't enough time to come to any other conclusion, because the engine suddenly revved and he was thrown sideways into the metal broadside as the boat, and his kidnappers, sped quickly from the dock.

The purr of the engine cut off after a few minutes, and Skiff guessed they were quite a way out to sea. Two pairs of rough hands grabbed him and sat him upright. Somehow he knew what – or who – he'd be faced with even before his eyes had time to adjust in the darkness.

"Bmf Dvmf" He snarled through the gag.

Dave laughed, lighting a cigarette in front of him and blowing the first puff of smoke right into his face. Skiff was almost glad of the gag. He wondered how many cigarettes Big Dave must get through in a day – it had to be a lot.

"Well well Skiffy. We meet again" Dave rested one massive boot on the motorboat's chairs. "You may have brought out our big boat but we have other means of getting around"

Skiff merely glared, it was all he could do.

"Unfortunately, buying my boat made me ... rather angry" Dave's voice was cold, metallic. "And you wouldn't like me when I'm angry"

Even if he'd been able to, the sailor sensed it unwise to point out the fact he disliked the man even when he was happy (if he ever was).

"See, lemme tell you something kid" He puffed on his cig "When I was a boy, me old ma took me fishing. Know what we were fishing for?" Puff. "Sharks. Big ones too. See where I come from, my people love a bit of shark meat – it goes with the job ya know? Danger. We liked the taste of danger. I personally loved it" Puff puff. "So one day me an ma are hunting this bad boy – whopper he was, and I decided to take it on myself. Lets just say me an that shark had a bit of a tussle. Took me eye out." Dave pulled his glasses down slightly, so that Skiff could see the empty socket and small scar. He closed his own eyes.

"Anyway" The man continued, pulling his glasses back up "I won in the end. Best meal I've ever had. But you know what was greater than the meat?" He produced two shiny coins from his pocket and rubbed them together in the moonlight. "Money. Money's what makes the world go round! So it makes me very cross when someone earns more than me from a clam blister!"

Skiff guessed he was referring to the pearl, and said nothing. Dave continued to puff away furiously. "But that won't matter by tomorrow morning, heh"

He reached forwards and took Skiff's cap from his head. A few of the hairs underneath stretched like they were trying to keep it on his head, but then dropped back to his scalp.

"See, once Mayor Oldfart hears the tragic tale of how her precious secretary went out for a swim but never returned, she'll have lost her main money making scheme. 'Oh buy mayor we warned him about swimming in the dark! He just ... never saw that rock coming"

The other two Pescecorp men cackled in the darkness.

"Yes ... and so she'll come running back to us, and our boat. Oh yes, but you own the boat right? Well" Dave snapped his fingers and Zak immediately scurried forwards, dug his hand into Skiff's coat pocket and produced his paperwork of proof of purchase.

"Luckily Zak here is pretty good at forgery. We just take this document, change the name from Skiff to Dav and voila! The boat is ours again – and with it, all the fish. And with all the fish ... all the money. But what of the poor secretary?" Dave took the cigarette from his mouth, and crushed it between his fingers. A thing wisp of smoke fluttered from the end.

"He won't live to see his precious pearl again." Dave pressed Skiff's hat to the side of the sailor's head that he had hit off the lamp, and Skiff cried out in pain. As Dave brought the hat back, he saw a dark red stain on the fabric.

"Those are AWFULLY pointy rocks aren't they?" Dave laughed his hyena laugh, the suddenly cut to silence. The only sound was the sloshing of the wave against the metal hull.

"Drop him" He said at last.

Zak and Marco took an arm each and hauled Skiff to his feet. The sailor squirmed and struggled, all too afraid of what was coming. In the struggle he saw Dave light yet another of his pack, and then the fisherman felt icy cold waters surround him. The boat above him started to become further and further away above him as the weight around his ankle dragged him downwards, towards the ocean floor. He could hear Marco saying something about whether it was necessary to do such a thing, and Dave shouting.

Skiff saw the engine rev up, and the motorboat begin to speed away. The sailor really began to panic then, because he knew it wasn't coming back, and that no one else knew where he was. His shoes scraped along the sea bed, kicking up a small cloud of sand, but otherwise doing nothing else to free him. Skiff looked up, panic stricken, his eyes blurry in the salt water. This isn't how he wanted to die. Looking up, he could see the moon high above him, silvery and round, far above the sea and land. The craters on the surface stared down at him sadly. It was the last thing Skiff saw before he passed out.