Wharfinger Yarns

AMARANTHINE
by: Ralph E. Ahseln  10/2011

Part 3

The old Wharfinger had another sleepless night. The little girl with the cascade of red hair was in his dreams . Whatever the theme was, in each dream she was there beckoning to him. Her pale white hands and faint smile reaching out to him. "What do you want of me?" His shouted words would jar him awake each time.

After a night of tossing and turning, sleep wouldn't come again. He sat in up in bed for the rest of the dark hours then watched the brightening of the new day. He hoped the light would chase away the feeling of sadness that hung on him.

After a quick breakfast of cold cereal and hot coffee, the old man left the office to do his routine dock inspections. At the end of his rounds, he once again went up the boarding ladder and stepped aboard the glistening wooden boat that had been the center of attraction for over a month. A boat that had generated so much interest of those marina visitors, but at the same time, had intimidated them so much that none had been brave enough to look inside. He was the only one who had and because he had, he knew a good deal about her. One could say "the good and the bad", except, The old man hadn't found any Bad ! The builder had done a faultless job. Just being aboard Amaranthine was like standing in a museum of modern art. Breathtaking was too small a word for the feeling the old man had.

The Wharfinger dragged his way through the rest of the day. He did his regular work as he normally would, but as the day began to end, a feeling of unease slowly came over him. He was beginning to dread the coming of the evening. They would be coming to stare at the boat. Those same folks that for weeks had gathered and stood gawking . They didn't seem to want to find out what the Old Wharfinger already knew. That beside being a beautiful sailboat, Amaranthine was a creative masterpiece. A haven in which to spend time . A vessel that could carry body and soul to far-away places. They didn't know. To him it was more than just a boat. It was a Comfort !

He had finished the rest of his rounds and was heading back to the office, but what he saw... made him stop, cold . The parking lot was FULL of people. All those familiar faces he'd seen before and new ones as well. It looked to him that there must be more than 100 individuals by now. They all began lining up at the top of the ramp. Not a rush, just a gradual coming together of the crowd. Standing in a neat line, one behind the other. Here and there, a pair of them, but mostly they were in single file. As the sun dropped down behind the dockside buildings and the light got dim, ...they all began to move forward!

The old Wharfinger watched them from the doorway of his office marveling at the calmness of it all. “I’ll be damned !”, The old man exclaimed. What made him catch his breath, was the action of the first group of 5 or 6. Each one of them came down the ramp then walked up to the side of the vessel, standing alongside, they simply just reached out and touched it. One touch, that was all, and then they stepped back. When that group had touched the boat, they turned away and slowly moved up the ramp, back through the crowd and then... vanished into the gloom of the evening . As soon as the space at the boat had been open, the next small group of 5 or 6 came and repeated the very same act.

It appeared to the old man that this activity must be planned and choreographed . Perhaps this was some kind of a "Tour" that an enterprising boat dealer had arranged. He was going to call Gil Wayneham tomorrow morning to find out if HE had set it up. Each group was doing the same routine. Once in a while a couple would stand hand in hand at the side of the boat, but mostly, single individuals would be doing the "touch" inspection. The old man thought he might have had heard occasional whispering between some of the people. He’d heard it before, but even though he tried, he still couldn’t make out what was being said. He figured that at some point, he was going to have to go over to the slip to be available for any questions they might have. But then, he thought, “I don’t have any information about the boat except who the dealer is, and they already know that". “Well, I could go up there and greet them. At least I can do that”.

He gave Stubby a quick scratch behind the ear, closed the office door and started to walk up to Row ‘A’. As soon as he got within a dozen yards, the group already standing alongside Amaranthine turned away and walked up the ramp. The next few in line didn’t move! The old man stood at the bottom of the ramp and, smiling, called out to them. “Come on down. I’m the harbormaster here and I’d be happy to answer any questions you might have”. .. No one moved. He stood there for 5 minutes or more, still no one in the crowd made a move to approach him. He was starting to get a little angry, but then he thought to himself, "If this IS a tour, then they probably are being taken care of by the organizer. I'd better not interfere. I'll just stand a way off and be ready to help." It had been an hour of more and the darkness of the evening was filling in all the shapes of the building behind the marina. "It's going to be too dark for the rest of them folks to see much now. " he mumbled to himself. But they kept coming! Down the ramp then to the side of the boat, A quick touch and then back up and gone. He watched in what was now a growing curiosity. "What in the world are those people thinking? They sure as hell can't BEGIN to know anything about that , or any boa, by just a quick 'fondle'. " he chuckled. They still kept coming.

At one time, he got close enough to a group to hear what they were saying. Only it wasn't words, it was just a sound. Once in awhile, one or two of the visitors would be touch the boat and make a quiet... "ohhhh". A odd little sob of sound. The old man was amazed that they felt so touched by the experience.

11:00 o'clock came, he was really feeling the effects of little rest the night before. He was so tired that it was hard to keep his eyes focused. Then he saw them. The young couple that he'd seen weeks ago, holding hands. They were walking down the ramp, with their red haired child between them. She was clutching the pant leg of the father and the hem of the skirt of mom. All three of them walked up to the hull side, stood for a moment.
And Then an Amazing thing happened!
That beautiful little girl carefully climbed up the boarding ladder and hopped on board! The old man gasped and quickly moved toward the slip and the boat. The Father turned to the Wharfinger, held up his hand and slowly Shook his head... No.... The old man stopped still and with his mouth open, watched as the little girl took a few steps aft and then stood directly behind the wheel. That honey colored, carved sculpture of a wheel. For several minutes she stood there holding, and stroking the spokes. The old man was frozen to the spot as he stood watching the child.

Then she did a most strange thing, she HUGGED the wheel. Hugged it like it was a favorite Teddy Bear toy or a baby doll that she loved. As quickly as she had jumped aboard, she was down the ladder and standing next to her parents. The old man wanted to run over and say something to them, but again, the father looked at him and shook his head. The old man understood and made no further move. The three of them, were now all looking at him. All had the same thin smiles on their lips. They all nodded their heads as if to say "Thank you". The family turned and slowly walked up the ramp and then were gone from his sight.

The Wharfinger could no longer stay to watch the rest of the crowd doing their "Touch and go" routine. He shuffled back to the office, petted Stubby and without taking off his clothes, fell into bed and went fast to sleep. He had NO dreams that night.

The rusty telephone Buzzed and Jangled early the next morning. He rolled over to see his old windup alarm clock's hands were on 6. Way too early for him, but someone wanted his attention, so he managed to get to the wall phone after the 4th ring. It was Gil from the Tacsea Boat dealership. "Hey Old timer ! How ya doing this Mornin' ? Gil sounded like he was a happy man. "No one can be that happy this early in the day." the old man mumbled. "What cha want, Gil?" "I just called to tell you that that cold moulded wooden boat that's been there, is SOLD !!" Gil was almost jumping into the phone. " I called to say that a guy is coming by today about noon to get her. He's a captain friend of mine. Jim Dennis, You may know him". "Yeah, I know Jim" the old man barked. "I'll be happy to see her go. Nothing but trouble since you sent it over here. I'll be glad when you don't send any more crowds here for the 'Circus' too ! " He wheezed. There was a short pause and Gil said, "What crowds ? I ain't had a soul interested in that boat since I took it on." "Well, someone sure as hell let the word out. There's been a parking lot full of snoopers every day." The old man was starting to get angry. Gil quickly responded, "Whoa, old timer! I don't know what you're talkin' about, but it won't matter now...She be Gone today ! " Gil again sounded like he'd won the lottery.

The Wharfinger hung up the phone and had to sit down. All of the strength had gone out of his legs. His brain was in a whirl. He was lying of course, he hated to see the beautiful yacht go from his sight.

Just as Gil had said, Captain Jim Dennis came trudging down the ramp at noon. The old man met him at the front of dock "A", shook Jim's hand the gave over the keys to Amaranthine. Jim thanked him and said "Hell of a job I've got to do with this baby today. I've got to take her out off the point, and sink her! "

"WHAT !" exploded the old man.

Jim went on,"Yep, some kind of legal battle with lawyers and such. a private company bought her and now is paying to have her scuttled. In deep water too, so's no body will bring her back up. They even have figured out a way to keep divers off her too. All kind of Hush , Hush, I guess. Anyway's she'll be in 5 or 600 fathoms before nightfall."

Jim's last words hit the old man like a truck. "Gone by nightfall" Jim had said. Now the vessel was backing out of the slip soon it would be gone to its doom. "What a terrible loss!" the old man thought to himself. "All that beauty, gone and no one to remember her!" ...

"I'll remember!
Those were his last thoughts as he closed the door to the marina office. Stubby arched his back and meowed his old cat, congested meow !

TACSEA DAILY TRIBUNE , October 30th Morning Edition !--

Rare Sailing Vessel Sunk Off PARADISE POINT !
Coffin boat" sent to its final resting place.

Reliable sources have informed this newspaper that a rare handcrafted sailboat was sailed off Paradise Point

yesterday, and purposefully sunk. Sources say that the vessel, built by a local man, recently deceased, was purchased by the EVERLASTING Memorial Gardens Mausoleum and Cemetery for an undisclosed amount. The distinctive boat had been the subject of a legal battle between Everlasting Memorial Gardens and a number of family members of loved ones who have been buried at the cemetery. The results of the legal action, are at this time, in the courts hands. the sensitive nature of the case was cited as the reason given for not releasing the information . However, this newspaper has discovered some hetherto unknown facts that may account for the large sailboat being destroyed.

A bizarre and ghastly tale has been unraveling concerning the former Manager and Head grounds keeper of the EVERLASTING cemetery.

Sources close to the story have revealed that Mr. Tony Clifford, who had for the last 25 years been Everlasting Memorial's grounds manger, had been removing wooden Caskets from their tombs and vaults, replacing them with inexpensive ones and keeping the original caskets for his personal use. A search of his home and workshop, found several caskets that had been cut up into wood strips and stacked into storage bins. Rare woods of the highest quality and colors were apparently there waiting use. Examples of his work in wood can be observed throughout his home and shop. His major production was the large sail boat yacht he built at his home and launched last year.That sailboat is the one that was sunk, as told in this account.

Mr. Clifford apparently had metal working, as a second skill. His workshop included a small furnace designed for melting and casting bronze and copper. Some of the casket hardware was seen in his shop as partially melted scraps. Castings of sculptured Bronze latches and hinges could also be seen scattered about.

In, what could be called by observers, Ghoulish, Mr. Clifford had kept detailed journals of the names of the deceased whose coffins he had used. He had stated that he "Hated to see such rare woods rot in the ground".

Dates and in some cases the causes of death going back as far as 25 years were in his journals. Names of prominent local citizens appeared as well as some military who had received honors. The journals, at times, included comments from Mr. Clifford. Particularly well known people or heart rending events were often logged in and the caskets of those noted were often given preferential treatment.

Sources related that, a particular memorable event was listed in his journal as one that caught his special attention. The tragic automobile accident that took the lives of the young Lesley family of three. In the Spring of 1991, Adam and Diane Lesley and their 9 year old daughter, Amaranth, lost their lives in a freeway collision. Well love by all who knew them, their family and friends had mourned their tragic loss by gathering a collection of money to pay for the burial expenses. It was said at the time, that the little girl's casket was exceptional because it was made of a special wood. A light colored pecan wood. Unusual material to be used in a coffin.

Mr. Clifford made a comment in his journal that "The wood should be given a place of distinction on his boat to honor the child."

This reporter wonders just what honor he could bestow after robbing her of her final resting place.

It's been further discovered, by this newspaper, that EVERLASTING GARDENS Memorial Mausoleum and Cemetery company has announced that since it would be impossible to fully compensate for the losses each of the living families have endured as a result of Mr. Clifford's actions, a monument will be erected in the name of those thought to have had their caskets stolen. The memorial will be placed at a location near Paradise Point which overlooks the location where the boat now lies. The memorial will serve as a resting place for all who come to visit.

Further, as a loving memorial to them all, the ashes of the wooden wheel of the boat will placed in a container at the base of the monument. Eternal and everlasting.

End...

Part 1

Part 2