Only a Man

Devereux closed her eyes and softly inhaled. The heavy, almost bitter scent of salt in the air was nearly as calming as the cool ocean waves lapping gently at her bare feet. There was a definite, biting chill in the air but Devereux had already accustomed herself to the strange weather of the island she now resided on.

It wouldn’t have mattered if the town of Deception had been buried under fifteen feet of snow and ice. She would have still been contentedly walking the sandy shoreline. The only difference would have been her wearing the shoes she was now carrying.

Sadly enough, Devereux was once again beached. Only this time she had, somewhat willingly, let herself get that way. At the time the situation she had gotten herself into had called for a ‘man overboard’. Her stay on Redcap Island wasn’t meant to be permanent and after three and a half months of being shackled to the island she was ready to go back out to sea.

Redcap Island was an out-of-the-way land mass that happily harbored to pirates, no matter their reputation. There were only two towns on the whole island, but Deception, the largest and most popular of the two, was nothing short of an illustrious haven that catered to just about every need a pirate could have.

The second town was named Sematary, and it had been purposely misspelled by the first islanders: a group of beached pirates. Sematary was on the south side of the island and though perhaps not as popular as its larger brother it often sported some of the best brawls between angry pirates one could ever hope to see. Sadly that was its only saving grace.

Deception however had everything from a fancy casino to a good old fashioned bar and grill. Devereux had quickly taken up as a helping hand at The Lazy Harpooner Bar and Grill once she was beached, but it was her day off. A little extra pocket change never hurt, and it was always better to pay for your own stuff that having to owe others money. She had learned that particular lesson the hard way and never wanted to repeat it.

Despite its namesake, Deception was a good, fairly law-abiding town. It was a town one could easily settle down on and make a good living, but those thoughts had barely registered in her mind before they had disappeared altogether. She wasn’t ready to settle and probably never would be with the way the sea had a tight hold of her.

Sometimes she often wondered, in good humor of course, if one of her distant relatives had been one of the merfolk. It would have explained her attraction to the ocean, but Devereux knew her family history and genealogy well enough to safely cross that option out.

Devereux brushed her cream-blonde hair away from her eyes and watched the frothing waves a few moments longer, before she turned away from the sea and headed back into town. She had missed lunch and was fairly hungry by now. Her stomach growled in agitation as she passed The Shady Lane Bakery and caught a whiff of what smelled like apple crumble pie, but she only smiled and raised a hand in recognition when the portly Mrs. Erna Dewberry called out her name in a friendly greeting.

Devereux received several more familiar greetings by the various shop owners on her way to the bar and grill. Dr. Boots Crypt, the owner of Corpse Way Funeral Home and the Grave’s End Infirmary, was arguing with a grinning Larn Moors, who owned The Rusty Cutlass, a small but profitable tattoo and piercing shop. Devereux had actually gotten two of her three tattoos and her only piercing from the flirty redhead.

He was handsome and young, being only about three years her senior, but he was nothing but trouble for women. She had been sorely tempted to take a bite out of that apple, but had stopped herself short once she knew he had a serious admirer in his beautiful buxom brunette of an assistant, Avrianna. The stunning brunette was nice enough, but Devereux doubted that she would stay that way if someone stepped into her territory.

Devereux slipped on her boots at the doorway of The Lazy Harpooner, before she strode in with a smile and situated herself at the farthest corner of the bar, her usual seat.

“Hey Val, what can I get ya?” Hardin Pine, the owner asked with a smile as soon as the blonde sat down.

“Give me the regular drink and whatever the special is for today.” She answered with a lazy, but friendly grin.

“Right, one virgin strawberry daiquiri coming right up,” The older man nodded before wandering into the kitchen.

Hooded blue-grey eyes wandered over the vast expanse of the bar taking in the sight of the normal everyday customers in their usual seats. Even the grill’s self-imposed mascot, Hemingway the ring-tailed tomcat, was laid out in his usual spot by the large porthole window not two arm lengths away.

Everything was as it should be, noisy yet peaceful.

“Here ya go, Val.” Devereux turned back around and nodded her thanks to the older man as her drink slid down the smooth surface of the bar and into her waiting hand. She immediately picked out the whole pieces of fruit and munched on them while she waited for her food, though she knew she wouldn’t have to wait long. Hardin prided himself on quick delivery and well cooked food. Not even ten minutes later a steaming plate of grilled meat and stir-fried vegetables was sat before her.

Devereux eyed the contents of the plate for a moment before looking up with a grin at the waiting chef and bartender. “Grilled sausage dipped in secret sauce, with a side of crispy fried potatoes, bell peppers and onions.” She recited the major ingredients of the dish with a small smile, but the smile dropped after a moment and her brows furrowed.

“Hey, what’s wrong with it?” Hardin asked gruffly, a slight undertone of worry coloring his voice.

“You’re missing a major ingredient, Hardin.” She was still frowning when she glanced up and caught his gaze.

“Whadda ya mean major ingredient? Everythin’ tha’s suppose’ ta be in there, is in there!” He stressed the last three words almost in a yell.

The frown dropped from her face and a doe-eyed expression immediately took its place. “But you didn’t give me and ketchup, Hardin.” She told him oh-so innocently.

Hardin’s expression froze in shock, before his face slowly turned an unhealthily deep shade of red, while a teasing piranha-like grin snaked its way onto the blonde’s lips. Oh, she had been so cruel to the older man. He was very, very angry and insulted despite knowing that she was only teasing him. She did feel slightly bad about it, but she knew that he’d forgive her, eventually.

“Why you-you ungrateful harridan,” The old chef sputtered his words in his anger, before stomping off into the kitchen. His large footfalls nearly shook the whole building as he stomped back into the front room and slammed a bottle of ketchup down in front of the blonde.

“There’s yer damn ketchup,” He growled at the not so innocent smile on Devereux’s lips and once again marched off to take care of the rest of his customers who had been avidly watching the scene as it played out before them.

Devereux bit her lip to keep her laughter stifled as she mindlessly twirled her fork around with her free hand, before he turned back to her meal. The rest of the patrons shook their head at the blonde haired girl’s audacity to insult a cook straight to his face, even if it was just to tease and hid their shit-eating grins behind their mugs of ale and rum.

Devereux hung around the bar for another hour or so conversing with the locals and patching over her tense friendship with Hardin. He did forgive her, as she suspected he would, but as punishment she had to make the daily deliveries to the shipyard for the next week. Devereux took the punishment with a smile that was neither mocking nor false, only accepting.

She made mistakes and she willingly paid the price for them, if she could afford to do so. Before she left though, she snitched a banana pop from the freezer and left the money for the pop and her lunch on the counter so Hardin would know not to punish her further. Daily deliveries were punishment enough for her, but knowing Hardin, he would probably make her deliver to everyone and not just the guys at the Shipyard.

It wasn’t a particularly long trip to the Gunpowder Shipyard. At a fast walk one could make it there in fifteen to twenty minutes depending on the traffic, but Devereux could make it there in ten by taking a shortcut she had discovered by accident one day. The ‘shortcut’ was only that for someone who didn’t mind jumping walls, climbing fences and avoiding old crates and tipped over trashcans, among other things.

Thankfully the back-alleys were similar to the ‘training field’ Loria had made her run daily for a year. This obstacle course, if it could even fall into that category, was a slice of sweet cherry cheesecake compared to Loria’s monster playground from hell.

Devereux easily cleared her last obstacle, a nine and a half foot privacy fence. She had ended up in the junkyard part of the shipyard. Honestly it was a rather melancholy and spooky place to behold, what with all the skeletal remains of many once proud and powerful ships littered about. The once beautiful ships that had carried the hopes and dreams of their crew were left to rot in such a desolate place. This was a place where ships went to die.