Book One: Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children (My Remake)

Chapter 23~The Monsters Come At Night

Eyes; the first thing I saw was a sea of eyes threatening to crush me in a title wave. However, once the door closed and the wind and rain that had begun to settle on our way here was shut out, the pub goers returned to their drinks and conversations. "Look, that's the guy who came in after you left. I think he's the one who found Martin." Jacob was pointing at a fisherman named Kennings who, as he says, 'only works alone'. Pretty much a rare population of the island actually likes him, but that wouldn't stop others from listening to his tale. A few people were gathered around his table all while separate conversational theorists elsewhere in the pub conversed. "What more is there to tell? It's been, like, an hour since he first arrived," Jacob wondered aloud.

"I guess he's just retelling it," I mentioned.

The pub seemed to be significantly busier than normal, which, I speculated, was due to the sudden opportunity to share stories that, for once, were actually interesting. After all, someone died, and that normally makes for some good conversation.

Behind the bar, Kev was set on overdrive; bustling around, filling beers and whiskey, doing a hurrying concoctions of both. Assuming he needed my help, I bid goodbye to Jacob and walked around the bar to the other side where Kev was placing a whiskey down for a customer. When he turned his head, his eyes flashed with sympathy, then told me I had the evening off with his permission. Rather than protest, I smiled and bound Kev in a warm hug, to which he chuckled with a pat of my head, saying, "heh, a'right ya rugrat, I gotta get to the customers. Looks as those we're gonna have some late nighters." Then he winked at me in a way that warmed my heart the slightest bit.

I backed away from the bar, spotting Jacob at a table with his dad who, for once, wasn't drinking, but rather, talking. As I passed by Kennings who was surrounded by listeners (and alcohol), I overheard him mention Gannet's Point and something about being eaten by sharks. With a snicker, I shook my head and neared Jacob. As if sensing my presence, he turned his head and gave me a grin. His dad followed his glance and smiled with a slight nod when landing on me. "Hey, how're you doing, Amber?" he asked when I appeared at the table.

"I'm alright," I half lied.

"Jacob was just telling me about how Martin was a friend of yours?" Through his eyes, I could tell he was genuinely concerned. A cough erupted from Jacob that, I swear, said dad. His dad's eyes glared at Jacob, but he continued to face my direction.

"Uh, yeah. I've known him since I came here when I was six."

He nodded slowly. "It's terrible, what happened to him, but you seem to be taking it quite well."

"I suppose." The more I thought about it, the more I realized, I have no idea how Martin died. "Come to think of it, I actually don't know know much about his death."

"Oh, well, the man over there explained how he caught him in his fishing net. Apparently, he was in his robe and slippers and looked like he fell off a cliff then got eaten by sharks," Jacob's dad explained carefully. "I truly feel bad for the man, he seemed very friendly."

"He was," I replied in a tone of sorrow. "He was a great man."

A bitter silence blanketed our small table as we reflected on this insignificant and yet incredibly significant man. One who, impacted at least a few of the lives on our little island that, honestly, is all you need to leave a mark. He shared and expressed, learned and lived, craved and fulfilled . . . built and loved. Now, I realize, as deeply saddened as I am over Martin, I'm also extremely proud.

Jacob cleared his throat. "Hey, Amber, I, uh, forgot to ask before, but I was wondering if you could help me figure out how to cook this recipe I have before I left."