Sammy's Story
By: David Mathis
Out over the treetops, she could see the sea, beautiful shimmering scales flashing like dazzling day stars, the deep blue-green of the waves crashing up on a rocky beach. There was a pier that was both long and old and there was also a small, stunted lighthouse that shined its light dimly, a beacon in failing health sitting not very far from the pier. Today, though, Sammy saw not an empty and forsaken pier, but a lively festival of odd people, slowly leaving a tall ship. The ship was hard to see through the trees, but the great billowing sails were all black with a stark white skull and crossbones proudly displayed across the front and back of each.
A grin broke out across Sammy’s face as her feet broke into a run even before she hit the ground and then she was sprinting like a mare across a grassy meadow, hair billowing out behind her like a cape and sun reflecting off of the dark brown coils, playing patches of light across them like fish in a river. She passed through the relatively sparse trees and came up on the old pier, alive with the business of feet, the smell of animals, and chatter of excited talk. There were people walking in all directions, chaotic and with seemingly no order, save for one lone man.
The captain stood stoic and unflinching in the midst of pure chaos, a great black raven resting on his shoulder. His scarred and grizzled face bore testimony of many fights and his tattered, black clothes looked to have once belonged to an admiral. A cloth as blood red as crimson hung from around his neck and billowed out behind him as he crossed his thick arms so as to thwart common men from passing his post. Sammy stood before him, still as a statue as well, the business and commotion swirling around her and the captain as though they didn’t exist at all. The captain stood, staring Sammy in the eyes for what seemed like hours before the captain’s old face broke into a grin that shone through his thick beard and he held out a gloved hand.
On the deck of the boat, the world looked different and the salty sea air tasted sweet as honey when the wind blew. When it was time to cast off, Sammy didn’t want to get off the boat and so the mighty Kraken set sail with one extra passenger that day, bound for new and unexplored lands with naught but a compass and a map. The sweet stars sang from overhead at night and the sea thrummed with the music of life during the day. Sometimes the pirates sang along with it, adding stringed instruments of their own creation to the mix and Sammy felt at home. By the wind they sailed, never knowing where the destination lay or how they might get there, but it didn’t matter because they had their music and their ale.
As the months went by, recorded in captain’s logs and new songs to sing, Sammy became well known around the ship for her wit and her nimble fingers, making her an essential deckhand. Her whittling also became a big hit, for nobody else on the ship could carve such amazing things as Sammy. She was taught how to wield a sword and how to use a knife and how to drink and spit like a man. She wore a red bandana over her matted and tangled nest of long, brown hair and she delighted in stopping at port towns that she had never seen before but it wasn’t until one fateful day that the Kraken found an island unmarked on any map that Sammy got a true adventure.
The Kraken made landfall around noon according to the sun which shone bright and hot in the clear blue sky. A cotton ball or two of a cloud drifted lazily, but otherwise the sky was uncovered. It was the kind of deep blue that painters longed to replicate, infinitely thought provoking near the sun and fading slowly until where it touched the horizon, it was nearly white. It was as though the sky made a white, sandy beach to meet the sea on the horizon, mirroring the world. The island was densely wooded and flocks of strange birds kept periodically erupting from somewhere near the center of it. The cool, clear waters held smallish brown fish with golden flecks of color gilded into their backs. The golden flecks seemed to curl and twist as though they meant to signify rivers flowing. Sammy watched them swim about for a while as the crew stretched weary legs and pulled full, plump fruit from low-hanging trees and made a meal of the previously undiscovered vegetation.
It wasn’t long before the pirates fanned out and began creeping into the woods, weary of any threats that might appear in the strange place. Sammy stuck with the captain who she had heard by now had slain a bear with his bare hands before and could kill one-hundred men with naught but a dagger. Sammy and the captain made swift progress with the captain’s sword skills that could cut swaths through thick underbrush and Sammy’s tree climbing ability that enabled her to be an effective lookout. The closer they made it to the center of the island, the cooler it got until the air was refreshing instead of the oppressive heat that could be felt at the edges of the island.
It wasn’t long before the two of them found themselves at the edge of a cliff, looking over vast waterfalls that thundered wide tracks of froth down, down the side, larger and more magnificent than any waterfalls they had ever seen before. Down at the bottom of the cliffs, they could see a city growing out of the ground. It appeared as though it might be made of tree trunks and leaves, and upon using the binoculars they found that the city was made of giant tree trunks and rocks. The buildings were rounded and weathered and the dense foliage grew over the sides of them as though they were made to be a part of the island. They sprang up in areas all over the ground around the cliffs like mushrooms sprouting on trees. Two of the waterfalls converged on a large, blue lake that turned into a river, the lake cutting the village into two halves and the river flowing out into the sea on the horizon. The Captain’s face broke out into a grin, cracked and crooked teeth visible behind the thick beard as he took Sammy’s hand and took a step towards the great city.
