ON A BLACK MOON SEA ~A Halloween Anthology~

Welcome Home

She was gorgeous. Fine features, long, thick, black tresses streaked with silvery-grey, though her face was young. Must have dyed the hair for effect. Her hips rocked as she moved, swaying with a rhythmic tempo like the waves in the sea. Her ears were bedecked with shell earrings, the likes of which they sold at tourist shops on the mainland. They might have looked hokey on most but on her? They seemed to match the whole free spirit vibe.

Her arms were bare, a loose flowy tank top hanging off a thin frame in spite of the chill I knew must have settled in the air by now. The day was already growing late and nights were cold on the island, the air thick with salty wet that penetrated all but the best lined coats even in summer. But the leather jacket she carried lay limply over her arm, unworn. Warm-blooded stock I guessed.

"So, what's good here?" she asked, taking a seat and laying her jacket on my bar like she was regular, though she was decidedly different than any that had ever stepped foot in the door here.

For a moment I was lost in her big brown eyes, words failing as I drowned within their chocolate depths.

"You always this articulate?" she asked rhetorically. The chuckle of the men at the bar brought me back.

"Ah, Rick is just a bit tongue-tied," Old Bob answered. With skin like a salted cod, Bob had been coming to the pub since my Dad was still alive. Three generations my family had owned The Rocky Perch and I was fairly certain Bob had been an old man even when my Grandfather first opened the doors.

"We don't get many the likes of you round here," Bob continued. "Don't get much but barnacle-crusted seamen like myself."

The woman laughed and the sound sent chills running through me. It was a light, musical sound, but something about it was abrasive too, like the echoes of greedy gulls fighting for scraps of food along the rocks were the tides washed up bits of dead fish and mollusks.

Still, I was determined to save face and pull myself from the spell. I was no teenage boy anymore. Though it was lonely on the island and attractive women were in short supply, I wasn't one to lose my head over a girl.

"Sorry about that, miss," I said. "Guess I forgot where I was for a second."

The woman smiled, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth. "I have that effect sometimes," she said. There was something deep and dark about her voice. A bit husky. The timbre familiar, not that I could place it...

"So drinks?" she prompted, "Maybe something to eat? I've had a long trek to get here."

"We've got the standards," I said. "No fancy cocktails like the mainland I'm afraid. As for food? A burger?"

"Anything with fish? Never did like red meat."

"Some kinda newfangled pescatarian?" Jake asked.

Jake was one of the younger guys who came in. Still in his early twenties, I knew he fancied himself a bit of a Don Juan. I could see he was watching our new customer with quite a bit of interest. Hell, all the men were. Scanning the eyes of my regulars I saw every one of em was focusing intently on our guest, their beers untouched, food ignored.

"Where'd you learn a word like that?" I asked the kid with a snort. Jake just shrugged.

"Lot of girls on the mainland only eatin' greens like a rabbit these days. Some will eat fish though. Good thing since I am a fisherman." He laughed self-consciously and rubbed the back of his neck.

"And such a lady's man," I quipped.

"It's something like that," the woman answered. "I was born by the sea. Can't imagine giving up fish."