This Is A Ghost Story
by: Ralph E. Ahseln  10/2015

II.

I knocked around on my boat all the day. It was getting dark, time to turn on the lights. I must have shorted out some wiring my boat. Now nothing seemed to be working. The lights didn't come on and all the instruments were blank., "Screw it ! I'm an educated man. I'm a retired Lawyer and Judge, I don't know anything about this stuff ! I'm taking a break. I'll go to the marina office and spend some time with the old Wharfinger".

It was dark by the time I left the boat. The dock lights came on so I could see he was there. The old Wharfinger, rocking in his chair, sipping that god awful coffee. Stumpy the tailless cat was in his usual place, fast asleep under the rocking chair. The old man looked up , smiled and said, "Ahoy there young feller, Back fer some more stories ? ", I laughed and answered, " Sure am". He smiled and said." Yayup, I figured I'd be seeing you again. Them's electricals is mighty tryin' sometimes". I agreed, but , I was here, expecting a round of salty tales.

Tonight, I wasn't going to be disappointed.

I'd been listening to the old man for almost 3 hours. He had paused in the middle of one particularly funny story. He'd stopped to get out of his chair to open the front door. There again was Arno, that strange being I'd seen earlier in the week. Having done his nodding assent to the old man, the specter moved on to do his nightly inspection. I no longer had a fear of Arno. He would protect us from any fire that might spring up on the dock.

Before the Old man returned to his interrupted story. , something in one of the office windows caught my eye. The Wharfinger turned his head toward me and said," HE'S here again ! " Frozen to my chair by the Wharfinger's voice, I began to smell something awful. It sort of oozed into the office. A rank odor like low tide. It stank of decaying seaweed and rotting fish. Then came the sound. A growling rasping single word . "Soon,", "Soon" , it repeated.

Curiosity caused me to disregard my fear . I slowly turned toward the window. At first, I saw nothing but the darkness, then, as my eyes became tuned to the gloom, I saw.... "My God" , I spat out.

Eyes burning as though they were the fires of hell, IT stared back at me! The monster of childhood dreams.. He was huge. Well over 6 feet tall, with a massive body. Wrapped around him, were yards of gillnet still with cork floats attached.

He peered in with that horrible, hypnotic face, chanting,"Soon, Soon".... in a ,Fingernails on a Chalkboard , voice.

I moved my eyes away from that horror. I begged the Wharfinger for some kind of explanation, the old man just smiled and waved at the creature. The voice had become a whimper..... , " Soon, Soon", I blinked, and the monster disappeared into the night.

The old Wharfinger was back in his rocker, He looked at me, smiled a wise old smile and said, "Well now, that were excitin' wern't it ? " Probably the understatement of the century.

`"What in the HELL was THAT? , my voice still shaking . "Well, I guess I'll have to be tellin' you about that one , Eh ? " He chuckled. I won't leave until you do ". I responded.

Brutus MacKie's Tale...

No one remembers when he started mooring his boat at Manger's Marina. His boat "Tannasg" was just one of the over 200 bow picker fishing boats that tied up there. One thing was for sure though, no one like Brutus MacKie.

Brutus was an outcast. The Irish fishermen there, were either Free Staters or Ulsters. Brutus MacKie was neither. He was a Scot and no one liked those people. When the men got together in their separate "Fishermen's Union " halls or one of the many taverns, they would openly proclaim that Brutus MacKie wasn't one of "Them". They agreed that he was an unpleasant fellow and they didn't care to even drink with.. "the likes of him! ".

The old timers, looked down on Brutus with disgust as well. Only one person talked to him, The Fish buying barge operator. It wasn't social chitchat, only the market price of his catch.

All the fishermen agreed that if his boat might be sinking, NO one would come to his aid. "Let it sink and be done with it ! ", WAS the sentiment.

No one could tell you why they hated him, Maybe it was because he was big. He was 6 and a half feet tall, built like a gorilla. Perhaps it was the foul smell he had about him (It was said, he never bathed !) ...They hated everything about him !

He lived in a house boat, had his groceries and needed supplies delivered, and, during the season, he Fished.

Everyone in town knew Brutus would be on his Bow Picker boat named "Tannasg", netting salmon every day. They avoided contact with him. They even hated the sight of his boat. He had no friends. Not a kind word was said to him.

One afternoon, Ole Petersen, the town gossip, rushed into the Silverside Tavern to tell everyone the story, ( The whole town had heard it by day's end). Ole said, that Johann, the fish buying bargeman, mentioned to him, that the last time he'd seen Brutus..."Da fella vas yellin', and carrying on! fer criminy sakes ! " Snickers started. "Ya sure ya betcha, Da big fella vas sayin' to bargeman, Johann,. " dat some day soon da rest of da fishermen hayrbouts, vill talk t' him, an' be likin' him". The tavern's snickers changed to guffaws. Ole continued,

" Johann says da big fella vas sayin' dat the fisher fellas vill talk to him and vant to shake his hand.. Den, dat big fella, he keeps sayin', ...'Soon, soon, dey be likin' me, purdy dammm SOON..'... "Dat's vaat da bargeman, Johann says.. ". Ole concluded. The Silverside Tavern erupted into drunken obscenities. Brutus MacKie ? A friend? Shake his hand ? " Never" said,....the Silverside Tavern !

Weeks, after Ole Peterson's revelation, the town's chatter about Brutus MacKie was mainly ugly jokes and curses. Children made up cruel songs and called small kids " Smelly Scotchman's Friends".

Then, the harassing began.

First, with mud being thrown on his house, garbage tossed into his boat "Tannasg", and even dead animals appeared on his doorstep.

It was one thing having the adults openly showing dislike, but when the young began to do despicable things as well, something had to change. It did. The youngsters causing the troubles would be the reason for change.

Springtime and temperatures were climbing out of Winter's chill. Salmon were in the Spring run, but the fish were few and far between. Nets of the bow picker boats were left in the waters from sunrise until late into dark. Even midnight, one could hear the "Thup, Thup, Thup" of one cylinder engines slowly moving boats to the twinkling kerosene lamps that indicated a drifting net.

Scattered from shore to shore, nets were everywhere.

The beginning of warmer weather also meant that the some of the town's foolish teenagers, would have to show how brave they were by swimming in it. Even though the water was still cold, they bragged that it was nothing they couldn't handle.

The distance from the city docks to the island across from town, was about a quarter mile. That made it perfect for a swimming race and the challenge was made.

The contestants were,.. The Mayor's son, he volunteered at the local hospital… The city marshal's boy who taught Sunday school.., and the banker's daughter who sang in the Old Fishermen's Rest Home. All three were thought by the town's people to be the "Best kids in town". They were loved by everyone.

The trio and a few friends, met at the town's shoreline , suited up and ready for the "game". At the word "GO!" the three leaped into the waters.

The cold water made them gasp and there was a moment when each realized that this was stupid. From the shoreline, their friends hooted and yelled encouragement. The trio couldn't back out now.

They were about half way to the island, when the chill sucked the strength from each of them. The mayor's son shouted that he was cramping and couldn't keep his head up. The girl was almost unconscious.

Each, in their way, suffering the effects of the cold, were almost helpless. Suddenly, they found themselves caught up in one of the drifting fish nets. All three entwined the net around their bodies. At least they weren't going to drown but they were dying from the cold.

In what was left of their consciousness, they heard the familiar " Phut, Phut, Phut " of a one cylinder engine Bow Picker fishing boat. With what strength they had left, they shouted, "Help Us ! " The boat came toward them. As it came nearer, they could read "Tannasg" on the bow. It was the monster, Brutus. He was going to save them.

His boat close, Brutus saw the young people had so tangled themselves in the net that even as big and strong as he was, there was no way he could lift all three of them out. He would have to go into the water and free each one of them. He stepped down on the rickety boarding ladder, and into the water.

One at a time, he cut away the tangled net. One at a time, he swam the teen over to the boat, pushed them up the ladder and into the boat. The last one he freed was the girl. She had so entangled herself , he had to dive under the water to cut the grasping net away. While he was under, Brutus became tangled in the web of cotton line himself. With his remaining strength, he pushed the girl over to the boat and up to the ladder. The two boys regaining some of their strength, helped lift her aboard.

By then, caught by the nets, Brutus strength had slipped away and his massive body, shut down. The teens watched in horror as Brutus, covered in fishing net, slowly sank beneath the dark water.

He had saved the youths, but now HE was gone !

The teen's friends on the shore, had witnessed what was happening and alerted some of the other fishermen. Soon, dozens of boats were racing to the site. When the questions came, the youths told everyone how Brutus had saved them.

By the end of the day, the story was on the lips of everyone. The whole fishing fleet spent days searching for the huge man.

A week later, one of the boats found his body. Wrapped in a length of fishing net, he was found trapped on a Wing Dam down current from the town.

They buried Brutus in the town's cemetery with honors due a hero. Children's songs now praised him. The School name was changed to "MacKie High School". And, every night, in the Silverside tavern, Ole Peterson could be heard saying.... "Ya Shuuuur..Ya Betcha, I vish HE vas hayr rrot now. I'd shake dot man's hand and call him ma Friend! Dots fer Damn shurr...Ya Betcha"

Everyone one in town echoed that sentiment,...... they still do !

I walked out of the Wharfinger's office into a darkness now teeming with ghosts. But, I wasn't afraid.

Episode III. Follows

Episode I

Episode III