The Last Pirate

Others Stories | Oct 6, 2011 | 4 min read
48 Votes, average: 4 out of 5
Others Stories

The Last Pirate

It was the first real hot day of the summer and my mother had excused us right after lunch, telling us to go outside and play. She had enough of us hanging about.

"Don't slam the screen door."

I think she had said more but I wanted out so bad I didn't listen. I grabbed the sleeve of my brother's thin jersey and pulled him out the
kitchen door. It slammed. I would pay for that later for sure.

Harper was three years younger and any chance of skipping out on my other chores diminished greatly, if I didn't allow him to tag along.   I started running as soon as my sneakers hit the sidewalk, slowing down only to yell back at Harper to hurry up. I stopped half way down the street and allowed him to catch up with me.

"Harper, you're slowing me down," I grumbled. "Pick up your damn feet."

"I'm telling daddy you swore, Weston. He'll whip your butt for that."

Harper pushed his blond hair from his eyes and grinned at me. I ruffled his hair, and then pulled him close to me.

"Listen, I'll read you the new pirate story I wrote if you promise to keep your
mouth shut."

He waited a moment, and then nodded, a grin of pure delight spreading across his face.

"Is it finished?

His voice betrayed the worship of a little brother.

"Yep, last night," I said.

This was to be the summer of seafaring pirates. It was my newest interest and I wrote ten stories so far.

"You'll be the first to hear about Captain Sam and his cut-throat crew."

"You'll read it to me tonight, Wes. You promise?"

I nodded my head as we started walking toward the bluffs. I threw my arm around 
his small shoulders. We knew that Dermott Forgery and Kyle Tremont would be there ahead of us.

We had been friends since first grade and they always there for me. They were the absolute best friends any twelve-year-old ever had.

*

 

Through the woods and up to the bluff took ten minutes. Kyle and Dermott were all ready there smoking cigarettes. They were both wearing cut off jeans, T-shirts,  with ratty sneakers on their feet. Kyle was standing close to the bluff's edge, checking the water level. I pulled off my t-shirt and walked toward Kyle, who instinctively moved from the edge.

 

"No playing chicken," he said. "The water is freezing and it's not even
 covering the rocks. Not enough rain this year yet."

 

Dermott threw his cigarette over the bluff and watched it fall the 
fifteen feet below on the jagged rocks with a splattering of sparks. We started
 pushing each other around and yelling about who was going to walk the plank first. 
 
We had all made the jump.   I think I was ten when I first took the first leap into the cold air and landed into the deep dark cold water below.

Harper started shouting about Kyle walking the plank blindfolded. 
 
He was waving a broken stick in the air like a pirate sword and yelling something about
 dead men telling no tales. He unexpectedly ran towards Kyle waving the stick back and forth. He was laughing and moving fast. Kyle stepped away and I pulled Dermott from the edge, and as I reached to grab Harper, his jersey ripped away within my hand, and I screamed as he started over the edge.

For one split second our eyes met, and I could see his fear. I prayed he saw love in mine.  Harper would not survive the fall.

Harper never made any noise as he fell. He seemed to float until he was just above the rocks. The sound of his small body hitting the rocks is something I will
 never forget. I stood still for a second, not sure, not wanting to believe I had just lost my little brother.  I screamed to Kyle and Dermott to go get my daddy.  I jumped off the bluff's edge, landing out into the river and swam to the shore. I was crying and swallowing water at the same time. It didn't matter.

Harper 
was dead.

My daddy and some firemen came down the river in a small rescue boat and they took Harper away. They covered his small body in an Army blanket. I never saw him again. 
I couldn't look at my daddy. I couldn't raise my eyes to meet his.

He  said, "Weston,  
go home now."

I could actually hear the pain in his voice. I didn't go home. I climbed up the bluff and sat there as the evening grew
 dark. I sat alone. No one came looking for me and being forgiven for this was nothing I expected. I have never felt the sense of emptiness in my life as I did that night. I would miss my brother forever.

I finally stood and looked down into the darkness of the water opened my mouth and 
screamed my brother's name with everything I had in me.  I heard the echoes return to me alone.

 

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Reviews

Oct 31, 2011

This was a great little story that reminded me a bit of Stephen King's The Body (Stand By Me) and some of Joe R. Lansdale's stories dealing with young people.

Amit Oct 10, 2011

really. great stuff. thanx for sharing

Soniya Oct 9, 2011

You are good as always... nice work, keep it up..

Rimzhim Dang Oct 9, 2011

Hey Ellen... I enjoyed the story... Simple nd scary!!!!!....

Anikhet Oct 9, 2011

Good one..

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