Awaiting Gallows

April 24th 1722 - Entry 1

Today began just like any other day. I got up out of bed in the break of dawn to go wake the roosters so that they would crow. After that, I tended to my other chores, including but, alas, not limited to, clearing the pigsty, moving the hay bales, milking the cows and harvesting the eggs.
Just another day in my miserable life.
It seems that, since my father, and his father, were farmers, it is mutually expected for me to pick up the family trade, and spend out my days much like I do now. How terribly dull. It isn't like it doesn't pay well. Farming is one of the best paying jobs a commoner like myself can hope to get into. Is it boring? Well, yes. But even that isn't really the main problem.
It was just that, well. I wan to squeeze a little more adventure from my life.
I know. Every young man has dreams of adventure, whether cutting down the filthy Spanish and Portuguese wretches that threatened the Queen, or maybe a life on the high seas, like a privateer or a pirate. However, very few young boys are so fortunate as to fulfill their dreams and ambitions such as these. And the rest, well, according to my father, they learn to appreciate what they have, and live with it.
Well, I suppose my problem was how damned long I was taking to do that.
My father always tells me that I should just wait, and I will come around. Well, my 18th birthday passed two months ago, and I'm still waiting.
Late in the afternoon, my elderly father finally wakes up to relieve me, and as per my usual routine, I go to drown my sorrows in the pub a few blocks away.
As I walk in, I am greeted by many a familiar face. These are the people who understand me. These are my people.
There are men so drunk they can't spell their own names, and women with few teeth and dignity even more scarce. Jack smiled at me from behind the bar and slid me my usual as I sat down. A tankard of ale with two shots of whiskey and a bit of lemon squeezed in for a more satisfying tang. As a matter of fact, I was making my way through my third one of these when a figure in a dark cloak appeared. He sat down next to me. I knew something was amiss because I had never seen him before, and I could tell you the names of everyone else in the pub at that time off by heart. I could also tell you their sexuality, favorite drink, and fetish if I had a few minutes to think.
"You Fredrick Callahan?" He asked. His voice was gruff. Like there was a file being scrapes across granite in his throat.
"Who's asking?" I replied, but it sounded more like "Whodds usskin?" I was already noticeably drunk. It occurred to me that if this bloke wanted a fight, I may be in trouble, seeing as he was perfectly sober.
"Ah... but that would be telling," he replied, and motioned to Jack, "His ale is on me, bartender!"
Jack looked at me with a puzzled look on his face. I shrugged lazily and thought, Hey, if this guy's paying, may as well make the most of it.
"I don't know who you are," I said carefully (or as carefully as a man as drunk as I was can be), "but if you're offering to pay for my ale, then I'd reckon you want something of me."
He smiled, "I understand you were involved in a bit of a skirmish with three brutes yesterday."
I froze, immediately sobering up. If this bastard was a copper, I was finished.
Seeing my worry, he shook his head, "Don't worry," he said, "there is no blame here."
I looked at him, puzzled.
He continued, "I am the captain of a ship, called the Mongoose, which is currently docked in the harbour in the nearby town of Keswick. I am a privateer, and I was wondering if I could enlist you into my services."
I was confused. This was happening so fast.
"But..." I said, "Why me?"
"You're one of my the best brawlers in town, I hear, and I lost a few of my men in a fight with a few cutthroat pirates. I need topping up."
I thought for a moment, reeling, then answered, "Ah. Sorry, mate, but I've got responsibilities here."
"Ah. Yes. Your farm. Well, how's about this? If you come on my crew, I will send your folks here a quarter of your money you earn aboard the Mongoose."
I almost couldn't believe my ears. It was a dream come true. I was almost tempted to reach out and touch his shoulder to see if he was real, and not some drunken illusion, because god knows I've had more than my fair share if those.
"Can... can I think about it first?" I asked.
"Certainly," he replied, "but not for long. We loose anchor at noon tomorrow. That gives you about a day to make your decision. I must be going now. Bring me your answer tomorrow morning."
And just like that, he tossed Jack a few coins and walked out without even giving me a name.