Pirates of Rocky Crag Bay - part 3

Oh my, I almost missed this Friday! No, it was not because the days are going to quickly, it is because they are dragging! This is one of the longest weeks I ever remember! Why does it drag when you want it to go quickly and fly when you want it to last? I never have figured that out. I have been out lit dropping every morning this week and every evening except last night as well. Last night (and late afternoon) we got a stack of postcards reminding people to get out and vote for Bill White. They all have to be hand addressed and there are "only" ten thousand! With some help from the Covingtons we got nearly 1000 done last night. We are having an addressing/pizza party this afternoon and evening. Anyone want to come?:)

I will be so glad when next Wednesday comes! But I can't wait till tomorrow when I at last get to do sign waving with my "honk 4 Bill" sign.:) I love sign waving! But, I had better get this next part posted because Jimmy is coming to pick me up about 8:45 and I have to finish getting ready and eat breakfast. Hope you enjoy this next part.:) And thanks for your comments Abigail! :)

Part 3
The Pirates of Rocky Crag Bay

Once there on the beach, away from the trees, the moonlight created a picture that Ned never forgot. On either side of him were the pirates, on whose dark forms he could see the gleam of the moon on metal swords and pistols as well as their belt buckles. The beach itself, with the towering cliffs on the left, were gray, and he could clearly see the outline of a rowboat beached on the shore. In this were two other forms sitting motionless as the trio approached. Beyond the boat the sea was fairly calm and there, in the distance, dimly outlined against the sky was a ship. To Ned it looked huge. He could see a flag on the mast, but there was no way to tell what it was. All this he took in rapidly before they reached the boat. A few low words were exchanged and Ned was ordered to climb in. This he did and the two others followed.

With great skill and ease, Ned thought, the pirates rowed the small boat to the ship and all clambered aboard. A few lanterns were lighted. By their dim light Ned saw a large man with dark hair and beard, a patch over one eye and a large sword at his side come striding up.

“Who are you?” the man growled in a voice so low that it seemed to rumble on the air.
“Sir, this is--” began one of the men who had fetched Ned.
“Quiet!” the Captain ordered. “Let the boy speak if he’s got a tongue. Well boy?” he asked again as Ned continued to stand speechless before him. “Who are you?”
Was this for real? Was he, Ned Jones, actually on a real pirate’s ship? He couldn’t believe his good fortune. But he must answer the captain before he was sent back!
Straightening his shoulders he looked the Captain straight in the eye and answered clearly, “I’m Ned Jones, Captain Frightenaft. You sent for me to join you, and I have obeyed your orders.”
The captain’s countenance did not change, and he looked Ned up and down. Abruptly he turned to one of the crew. “Harvey, take him down and give him a berth. The rest of you get to work. Up with the sails, let’s away from here.”

Ned didn’t hear the rest of the orders for he was hustled down below by Harvey, who he discovered was First Mate, and instructed about which berth was his. Before long he was sound asleep dreaming of all the wonderful adventures he would have now that he was a real pirate.

“Up with ye lad!” A gruff voice awakened Ned quite early the following morning, and a large hand shook him roughly by the shoulder. “The Cap’in’s wantin’ ya!”
In bewilderment, Ned looked around him. For a moment he couldn’t remember where he was. Then suddenly it all came rushing back and he bounced out of bed with a grin. “I’m a real pirate now!” he said gleefully.
The pirate who had awakened him coughed before ordering the boy “up on deck, quick now.”

Ned hurried. On deck he found to his amazement, that if he looked hard enough he could just make out the land in the distance. As far as he could see in every other direction was nothing but water. His eyes widened. Never had he been this far from land. Still staring, he was startled by a voice bellowing out an order.
It was Captain Frightenaft. Ned hurried to him and saluted. The large pirate captain looked him up and down in silence for some time before speaking.
“So, you are the young pirate I’ve heard so much about, eh? Well, what do you think of the ship?”
“She looks great, Sir.”
The captain grunted. “And you, are you ready to be a real pirate or are you only good for pretend?” The deep voice, black hair and beard of the fearless pirate leader caused a tingling sensation to run up and down Ned’s spine as the man almost glared at him with his one eye.
In a voice that sounded pathetically weak and high, the lad replied, “I’m ready, Sir.”
That was all. The captain roared for First Mate Harvey to take the boy and teach him a thing or two about ships.

And so Ned’s experience with pirates had begun. For the first two days they sailed about the waters till Ned had no idea where they were. He was put to work here, there and everywhere. Mostly First Mate Harvey was with him, but sometimes one or two of the others joined. Several of the pirates seemed to hold the newest member in contempt for they never spoke to him and seemed to ignore his very existence. One especially, a man called Treb, never ventured near the boy if at all possible. Finally on the evening of the third day, Captain Frightenaft called Ned up on deck about dusk and pointed to the shore line.

“Here is the first test, boy. You are going ashore with the others. Harvey is going to be in charge. Do as he says and things will be fine. Mess up and you’ll walk the plank. Understand?”
“Aye aye, Sir.” Ned’s voice was firm, but his heart pounded and his knees suddenly seemed to turn to jelly.

“Pull for the shore men,” First Mate Harvey ordered quietly. The men pulled. The dark mass of land before them grew with each stoke and before long they were beaching the craft. Leaving two men to guard the boat, Harvey led the others into the woods until they came to a road.
“All right, Treb, lead the way.”
With a muttered, “Aye, Sir,” one of the men stepped forward and the crew advanced in the growing darkness. Up ahead a few lights from a house were to be seen faintly.
Suddenly, Ned gave a slight cry. Instantly a hand was slapped over his mouth and an angry voice hissed, “Quiet boy! You want to alert them?”
As the hand was removed from his mouth, Ned turned to First Mate Harvey. In a voice scarce a whisper he voiced his anguish. “Sir, that is MY house!”
One of the pirates snorted softly.
“Is it indeed, lad.” Harvey’s low voice was hard. “Then it will make things even easier. You know where the valuables are and no doubt know how to get in the house.”
Ned shivered. “I . . . I can’t.”
The man in the front turned, and Ned thought he caught a glimpse of a pistol or was it a sword, in his hand.
“You’ll follow my orders, Boy, or the captain will hear of it.”
Swallowing hard, Ned assented, remembering Captain Frightenaft’s words, “You’ll walk the plank.”

To be continued

Politcal Blues and Part 2

Well, Good Morning FFFs,
I don't know about the rest of you, but things around here are very political! I was out lit dropping yesterday morning and evening, and Wednesday morning. I skipped this morning, but no doubt I'll be out in the heat again tonight. The only things I've gotten written are a letter the Editor of the Joplin Globe (they haven't printed it yet) and a poem. I'll post the poem this morning since it will give you a glimpse of what life is like here.:)

And don't worry, Sarah said it wouldn't be nice if I didn't give you some more of the story I started last week, so you get a double feature today!:) Is that exciting or what!

But first of all, the poem.

The Political Blues
by
Rebekah Morris

Oh, I’m afflicted with a terrible disease
I call it the Political Blues.
I don’t go around coughing or having to sneeze,
It’s just that there’s so much to do!

The disease comes on slowly, I’m hardly aware
That anything’s wrong at all.
First it’s a longing to get out in the air
And make a political call.

Then there are meetings to hear people talk,
As though they had something to say,
By then I am certain to go take a walk
And oh, it’s a terrible day!

My phone won’t stop ringing no matter the time,
And my doorbell is dinging now too!
I’m trying to tell you in this little rhyme,
I’ve caught the Political Blues.

But it only grows worse as the days quickly fly
And it’s certain I’ve got it bad,
For no matter how often I think with a sigh
That I might be going mad,

They call then to tell me to drop some more lit,
Of phone calls I have to make,
Until I am ready to throw a big fit
Or maybe go jump in the lake!

And then there are days when I didn’t get out
To help the political campaign,
I’ve wandered the house till the others must shout
“Just go before you’re insane!”

I’m tired of walking, phone calls and signs.
I’ve hardly a voice to use.
Yet it is certain I won’t quit the front lines!
I’ve just got the Political Blues.

I hope you enjoyed that. And now the featured presentation. Or something like that.:)

Part 2
The Pirates of Rocky Crag Bay

For a long time Ned lay there with the letter before him. He, Ned Jones, was asked to join some real pirates! Could anything be more wonderful than that? The Pirates of Rocky Crag Bay, where was that? How come he had never heard of them before? Should he go? Of course he would go! There was never any real doubt in his mind about that. He had to get ready.

Dashing up to his room, he closed the door and set to work. All his pirate things were gathered together, his sword and pistol were placed in readiness. Once he was sure he had everything he would need, he hid his bundle under his bed as he heard Kim calling him for supper.

No one seemed to notice his unusual excitement. The others talked as usual, but it seemed hours before supper was over and he was excused from the table. Then Ned found to his dismay that he still had nearly five hours left before he would finally meet a real pirate. He wandered about the house. “It is probably the last time I’ll ever see it,” he thought with a twinge of sadness. Restlessly he walked from room to room until his father, who was reading the newspaper, noticed and asked,
“Ned, is something wrong?”
Ned shook his head.
“It’s kind of strange here without Rob, isn’t it?”
Nodding, Ned wandered out of the room. He hadn’t really thought of it before, but it was strange without Rob. “I think I’ll go to bed,” he told his mother as he passed her. To himself he said, “It is a good thing Rob isn’t home. I’d never be able to make it out of the house with him in the same room.”
It wasn’t many minutes later that his mom came in and felt his head. “Are you feeling all right, dear?” she questioned.
Ned nodded. “Just tired,” and he gave his mom an extra long hug.

As the door closed softly behind her, Ned suddenly felt the tears fill his eyes. “She doesn’t know that I won’t be here in the morning,” he whispered. “I think I’ll leave her a note. I can’t tell her where I am, but I can tell her I am fine and I’ll come to see her sometime.

This done, and having dressed once again, he settled himself to wait. Several times he nodded off only to wake with a start, afraid he had overslept. When he heard the clock strike nine, he walked to his window and looked out. The moon was up and its light caused the trees to cast strange and grotesque shadows on the darkened ground. He stared hard toward the bay but could see nothing. The muffled sound of the waves could be heard but besides that all was still.
Nine-thirty, would 10:30 never come? The lights down in the kitchen and study went off and then Ned heard footsteps on the stairs. Quickly jumping into bed and pulling the covers up, he closed his eyes as Dad opened the door softly. For a moment all was still then the footsteps came quietly over and paused beside the bed. Ned fairly held his breath. Did Dad know? What was he going to do? It seemed an age to the young boy before Dad left the room, softly closing the door behind him.

The darkness of the night seemed to close right down around Ned Jones as he crept down the walk to the gate. He wouldn’t have admitted it for the world, but he was scared. His knees were knocking together, and he kept his mouth clamped tightly to keep his teeth from chattering. As he stepped through the gate two dark figures loomed up on either side of him and a deep voice spoke.
“Stand still, Mate. Are you Ned Jones?”
Somehow Ned managed to get out an “Aye, Sir.”
“Cap’n’s waitin’. Let’s go.”
The other dark form, who hadn’t said a word, stepped forward and started off into the darkness through the trees. The one who had spoken nudged Ned with something cold and hard which Ned felt instinctively was a pistol. He started at once. Not a word more was spoken as the three, the two pirates and their newest cabin boy, made the trek to the bay.

To be continued next week.

The Pirates of Rocky Crag Bay - Part 1

Good Morning FFFs!:)
I almost had to resort to something I had written years ago for something to post. I have been so busy that my evenings (the best time for me to write) have been rather full. I have been out doing lit drops for Bill White who is running for our State Representative. I sure wish I could get a few of you to come help me. I've been the only girl doing lit drops. :} If you think about it, please, please pray for this race. Mr. White has an opponent who says she is a Republican, but the more we find out about her the worse it gets. She has not been a republican all her life as she claims, nor has she always been as conservative as she says. We are doing well, but it is still a great concern. Only a little more than two weeks left till the Primaries!

I did manage to finally get to finish the story Mom gave me to write. It ended up being over 5,000 words long, so it will take a few post to post it. That is probably a good thing since I am so busy. Now I won't have to frantically try to come up with something to post each week.:)

But I don't have time to ramble on and on. Here is the first part. Hope you enjoy it.:)

The Pirates of Rocky Crag Bay
by
Rebekah Morris

Many a tale has been told of the pirates of long ago. Many a child, yes, and many a grown person too, has dug for buried treasure on some lonely stretch of land along the water’s edge. Throughout the years young lads have dreamed of pirates and most have wished that they too could become part of those famous yet feared crews, albeit none, perhaps, have had that wish granted as young Ned Jones did when he was eight years of age. This is his story.

It all began innocently enough with a book. A book titled, “Piracies on the High Seas and Tales of Yore.” This had caught young Ned’s fancy at the library, and once home he found it hard to put down. Curled up in his own special cave under the grand piano, he was soon lost to all sounds around him. His family always knew where to look for him, for ever since he was small, he had crawled under the piano to play.

“Ned, I’m going fishing, do you want to come?” Rob called through the window where he could see his younger brother deep in his book. Ned never moved. With a shrug the eighteen-year-old turned away. “Once that boy gets his nose in a book, he’s dead to the world,” he remarked to his sister Kim, who was standing nearby. Kim was fifteen.
“I know. I once played a march on the piano, and he never stirred.” Her blue eyes twinkled. “What book is he reading now?”
Rob turned back to the window and peered in. “Oh, something about pirates it looks like.”
“No use to wait for him. Mind if I go instead?”
“Not at all. Are you going to fish or sketch?”
Kim pursed her lips in thought. “Fish, I guess,” she finally decided.
After grabbing a pole from the garage, Rob and Kim started off. Only a few steps from their gate they met their mother and little sister returning from the store.
“I thought Ned was going to go with you?” Mom sounded surprised.
“He is lost right now with a bunch of pirates,” Rob informed her. “Dad’s in his study.”
“Can I go with you?” six-year-old Mindy pleaded.
Consent was given, and the trio set off with instructions to catch enough fish for supper.

Some three hours later, Ned suddenly felt himself being dragged out from under the piano by his feet. “Hey, what are you doing?” he demanded of his brother.
“Fetching you for supper.”
“But I was in the middle of an adventure,” he protested.
Rob shrugged. “It will wait and fish won’t. Come on.”

Supper was quite tasty and much talk and laughter went on around the table. Only Ned was quiet, his mind still on his book. No sooner was he excused from the table than he raced back to his cave where he stayed until once again he was dragged out by Rob; only this time it was for bed.

For several days, yes and nights too, Ned thought and dreamed of nothing but pirates. He read the book three times before taking it back to the library where he got another book about them. And so the days passed, Ned read every book the library had about pirates by day and dreamed of them by night. So enthralled was he with the lives of these past terrors of the sea that he began to copy them. First he practiced sword fighting in the yard, but soon he began to look for treasure. Kim’s bracelet disappeared along with two of her necklaces. Mindy’s golden tiara she wore in her aunt’s wedding also vanished as did Rob’s best watch. And if that wasn’t enough, skulls and crossbones began to appear in unexpected places. Things were, in the eyes of Ned’s siblings, growing from bad to worse. But when Mindy’s favorite doll was kidnapped from her bed one night leaving only a note with a skull and cross bones on it, Rob and Kim knew it was time to take action.

Together they walked out to a rocky ledge overlooking the bay.
“Rob, something has to be done.”
“I know. Even Mom and Dad are wondering what to do.” There was a pause and only the waves could be heard crashing down below them.
“If Ned just knew what pirates were really like,” Kim began, “I don’t think he would want to be one.”
“Hmm, that just might work. Kim, you’re brilliant.”
Kim looked surprised. “I am?”
Rob laughed. “I have a plan now. Of course we’ll have to check it out with Mom and Dad, but I don’t think they’ll object.”

“So, Rob, are you all packed up?” It was supper time at the Jones house and Dad had just pushed back his empty plate.
“Sure am.”
“When do you leave?” Kim looked across the table.
“Before dawn tomorrow. It should be fun.”
“Before dawn?” Ned echoed. “Where are you going?”
“Oh a few of the guys and I are going camping and exploring. We’ll be gone a few days or weeks maybe.”
Ned didn’t reply then but that night in their room, he said in an ominous voice, “Be careful that the pirates don’t get you and make you walk the plank.”
Rob laughed. He really couldn’t help it. Ned’s voice was pathetically high even when he tried to make it low and scary. “We’ll be careful. You be careful too.”
“Huh, pirates wouldn’t hurt me,” Ned boasted, turning over in bed and feeling under his pillow for his cap-gun pistol.

For the next two days, Ned practiced his acts of piracy without having to hide things in his room for fear his brother would notice. To his total satisfaction, no one seemed to know where the missing things had gone. Little did he dream that his father watched him through the window of his study as he buried each treasure.

On the third day after Rob’s departure, Ned discovered a note tucked in the windowsill right by his cave. Eagerly he pulled it out and saw his own name written in bold handwriting across the front. Turning it over wonderingly, he was startled to see a skull and crossbones on the back. For several minutes he stared at the note, then with a pounding heart he crawled into his cave, opened it and read:

Ned Jones,
I, the captain of the pirates of Rocky Crag Bay, have heard of your great and daring deeds. We are in search of a lad to join us, and you are the only one with enough courage to even be considered. I have no doubt that you are ready for even greater acts. I shall be waiting for you tonight at 11:00 on my ship, “The Black Lady.” Two of my men will wait for you outside your gate and escort you there. Don’t fail.

Captain Frightenaft

So, what do you think of the beginning of it?

Meleah's Western Part 18

And a good morning to my Friday Fiction Fans. (Maybe I should just call you the FFFs:))
Anyway, I'm still working on the story Mom gave me. It is taking a while. Since I knew I couldn't get that done and ready to post part of (it is long) I thought I'd just write another part of the Western. I hope you don't mind.:) I started it on Sunday as usual, but I was so tired that day that I didn't get more than a few hundred words written. So, I finished it on Monday. I think I need some more questions if you can think of any.

But I need to get this posted. Enjoy it!

Part 18

Carson and Tom, who hadn’t noticed Ty’s sudden reining in of his horse and were somewhat ahead, turned in surprise at his question.
“Who are you talkin’ ‘bout, Ty? What’s wrong?” Carson questioned riding back to him and noticing his drawn gun.
“That voice,” Ty demanded looking toward the saloon, “who is it?”
Dismounting, Tom strode towards the saloon and pushed open the door causing the loud, rough voice of the boaster to be heard in the streets once more.
“I’m a tellin’ ya we’ll git him. We know he’s come this here way an’ I say we’ll run him down like . . . like . . .” the voice died away as another voice called out,
“Aw, shut yer mouth, Wiley. Yer drunker ‘en Ol’ Lukus.”
The sound of a scuffle sounded as Tom returned to Ty and Carson. Ty had holstered his gun and now gave a wry smile. “Reckon I’m jest a might skittish.”
“Only nat’ral if’n ya ain’t sure jest where them ones is goin’ ta show up.”
With a nudge to urge on his horse, Carson spoke up, “I reckon we’ll keep our eyes an’ ears open, but I don’t think they’ll be botherin’ us none ‘cept we get close ta home.”
Ty sighed. “Yep, that’s so. Ain’t no one bothered us none till we were ta be gittin’ back.”

Through the town now wide awake and bustling with life and vigor, Tom led Carson and Ty on their quest for information. Many an old timer stopped to greet Carson with surprise and pleasure having never expected to see him there again once he left after his aunt’s death. Only a few were able to recall the family in question, though none remembered their name for certain nor was a positive answer given about where they went. One was convinced they had returned east, and though a few thought it was to California, most of them thought the Nebraska Territory would be a good place to try. Especially the area around Fort Laramie.

It was nearly dark before the trio set off for the Jakobus cabin. Upon arriving, they found a good hot supper ready for them and while they ate, plans were laid for their trek up north.
Sally listened to it all quietly. Much as she would have liked to travel in the comfort of a wagon, she knew it would be impractical for the quick riding needed. No thought was given to staying behind for she was nearly as anxious as her brother to find their little sister. It was with relief, however, that she heard the discussion to remain there with Mr. and Mrs. Jakobus until the supplies and provisions could be purchased and made ready. All that would take a few days. These Sally intended to enjoy to their fullest.

The dawn was breaking in the eastern sky. A sky rosy and purple with a golden glow outlining the few clouds. The birds were already singing madly out in the woods while squirrels, chipmunks, rabbits and a host of other small animals who inhabit the wooded and open lands scampered about busy with their own affairs. Back of the cabin, four deer stood silent and still, prepared for instant flight, yet curious, watching the loading of the horses and listening to the final good-byes as Ty, Sally and Carson prepared to depart the hospitable home which had given them shelter. Ty helped Sally, with her father’s gun at her side, mount her horse, and then with the agility of the young he sprang into his saddle without touching the stirrup. Carson was already mounted and waiting. With a final wave, they were off.

For several hours all was silent save for the sound of the horses hooves and the soft jingle of their bridles. In the open, with the sun shining down upon them, the air was pleasantly warm, yet in the woods where the thick branches effectively shut out the sun’s rays, it was cool. Spring had arrived at last. Proof of that lay all about the travelers, from the green grass and daring little flowers at their horses’ feet, to the buds and tiny shoots on the trees. Now and then they caught glimpses of birds with twigs or grass in their beaks.

Around noon, the trio stopped for a bite to eat and to give the horses a rest.

“Ty,” Sally began when once more they were in the saddle, “what did ya do the two years you were gone? Pa an’ I often talked ‘bout ya. Where did ya go?”
Thus started, Ty launched forth into tales of his trip. Side by side the brother and sister rode. To any not acquainted with the Elliots, it would have been easy to guess they were brother and sister. Each had dark hair and eyes. Although Ty was darkened with the rugged look of a man well used to the daily struggle and hardships of outdoor living, there was an air of tenderness and gentleness that bespoke of the right sort of upbringing. His face, once he had disposed of his beard, looked almost as young as his twenty-one years. Sally, three years her brother’s junior, was a becoming lass, quiet and with a remarkable ability to turn any place into a home. She had greatly missed her brother, the constant playmate of her childhood and then her confidant and companion in the later years. It was with mixed feelings of regret and relief that she had written that letter which recalled Ty to his home. Relief, because the burden which had fallen on her young, slim shoulders when the father was taken ill could be shared. Regret, for she knew Ty had left for a reason and to call him back might put him in danger. Yet, providentially, everything had turned out all right.

No one knew or dreamed all that would befall them before their journey was complete. Everything now was quiet and peaceful, but how long would it last?

Do you have any questions?

Happy 4th of July!

Good Morning,
I'm a little tired this time as I was out doing lit drops with Jimmy for our candidate who is running for our State Rep. It was such fun to get out and do that sort of thing again. I really enjoy doing lit drops. Not quite as much as I like sign waving, but close.:) Tomorrow we have a parade so we'll get to enjoy helping with that as well. Only a month until the elections!

I hope you are all are going to have a wonderful, inspiring, memory filled, delightful, not-too-hot, safe Independence Day! :) (How is that for a string of adjectives?) Our celebration will be on the 3rd. But before that, we have a tea (a real English Tea) party to go to, and then babysitting Krista, James and Joel this evening. Just a little busy here.:)


But I'm rambling. You probably didn't want to hear all that. I had written a short story, but I didn't like it. (That doesn't happen very often.) And Mom thought it needed work, but I'm going to start over on that one. With that gone, I didn't have time to get another story written though I am working on one with several more waiting in my head to come out.:) However, I did get a poem for you all. I'm not sure how well I like this poem, but it will do. Hope you enjoy it!

Liberty

In this great land where Old Glory does fly
Have you ever stopped to ask yourself why?
Not even a thought to why we are free
In this great land with all our liberty?

Go ask your neighbors, the man on the street,
Ask your relations, whoever you meet,
Over our heads where Old Glory does wave,
Why does it fly o’re the land of the brave?
Does it display with its red, blue and white,
True freedom and liberty, honor and right?

Watch as our flag bravely snaps in the breeze,
Its colors show best when its not at its ease.
Even in this we can learn a great thing,
From the midst of our struggles bright freedom will ring.


True liberty comes, the price we must pay,
Say thanks to the soldier who fought in the fray.
Remember this price, blood won’t pay it all
For to you and me sweet Liberty calls.
“Unto you I’ve given a charge don’t forget,
You’ll lose all your freedom unless you repent.
Stand on your honor, remember to pray,
God heard us before, He’ll hear us today.
Turn to righteousness, dishonor defy,
And with God’s Liberty, Old Glory shall fly!”

Did you find the message in the poem? Some people spot those right away, while others haven't a clue for a long time unless another person points it out.:)