| Excerpt From After the Storm Copyright by Chrissy Munder |
What do you do when there’s a grumpy old sea captain in your kitchen? Here's a nibble from
After the Storm from the Desire Beyond Death Anthology currently available from Dreamspinner
Press .
~*~*~*~*~*
It was a better morning for Vincent when he next awoke. He moved cautiously, testing to see if
the pain was still with him or if it had left. Discovering that the latest bit had left him as
suddenly as it had come he gratefully swung his legs to the side of the bed and pushed himself
upright, wobbling a bit before he caught his balance.
Tea or coffee. Something with caffeine to clear the fuzziness from his head. That would be
welcome. The pain pills helped, but they sure gave him some weird dreams. Vincent yawned as
he padded down to the kitchen in his bare feet, shaking his head as he remembered his vivid
dreams of last night and a sea captain’s ghost.
He must have forgotten to close the windows in the kitchen again and fresh air and sunshine
streamed in. Vincent was in awe of the view; the lake and sky seemed to dwarf everything
around it. How lucky he was to been sent to this place. Perhaps, even though he was having
difficulty seeing it, everything truly did happen for a reason.
Vincent leaned against the counter as he waited for the water to boil and bent over the sink to
splash cold water on his face, enjoying the shock to his nerve endings. He ran his hand over
his closed eyes to wipe it off and felt some of the fog lifting.
He filled the mug, added a bit of honey for energy and turned to sit at the kitchen table.
“Jesus!” He exclaimed, stumbling back out of the way of the hot liquid as the mug broke against
the floor and the tea splattered everywhere.
There was a man sitting at his kitchen table. But not just any man. This was the same apparition
he had dreamed last night right down to the piercing green eyes and the pipe even now
clenched between the white teeth bared in a wicked grin.
Avoiding the mess on the floor, Vincent circled the table slowly. He rubbed his eyes to see if
the figure would disappear but the man just regarded him steadily and with amusement before
taking the pipe out of his mouth and knocking it against the edge of the table.
Vincent could only watch in a daze as ash fell from the bowl of the pipe to the kitchen floor.
“What did I tell yeh?” Ignoring the pile of ash he’d just made, the stranger gestured to the mug
and tea on the floor. “Yer making a mess.”
“Who are you?” Vincent asked slowly as he looked around to make sure this was his kitchen.
He really needed that caffeine now. “What are you doing here?”
His visitor just sighed and shook his head at Vincent’s puzzlement. “Didn’t we go over this last
night?” He enquired in his deep voice.
“Last night?” Vincent parroted.
“Yeh remember, don’t yeh?” The green eyes fixed back on Vincent. “I introduced myself to yeh
then, isn’t it time you returned the courtesy by the way?”
“Right.” Vincent muttered as he sat carefully down at the table across from the man in the
rough clothing. There wasn’t anything necessarily strange about them, a pair of pants, some
type of shirt and a jacket. It was just the materials and cut looked different somehow.
“I’m Vincent Poulsen, I’m renting this station house for a few months, until…” His voice tapered
off and Vincent gave up and just stared at the other man. Maybe it hadn’t been a dream last
night; maybe this fellow had broken in and was just taking advantage of his confused state.
Stranger things could happen, right?
“Poulsen, huh? That’s a Scandinavian name. I used to have a sailor under me named Poulsen,
man couldn’t speak a lick of English but he could work from sunup to sundown without a word
of complaint. “ There was that grin again, Vincent thought. “Perhaps he did, and I just didn’t
understand him, eh?” There was that hearty laugh. “Too bad for him.”
“So you’re in the Navy?” Vincent tried playing along.
His visitor just laughed again. “Not for a long while, and not in the way yeh be meaning. I told
yeh, I was a ship’s captain afore I was keeper of this lighthouse.”
“Right.” Vincent repeated. So who could he call, the police? The Preservation Society? Where
would the best place to call and find out if there were any escaped mental patients in the area?
“So, I agreed to let yeh stay last night, against my better judgment mind yeh. But yeh seem to
have caught me at a weak moment.” The man shrugged and the end of the pipe jabbed in
Vincent’s direction. “But if you’re to stay it’s best we set up some ground rules.”
“Right.” Vincent struggled to unscramble his thoughts.
“First of all, don’t be playing any of that rackety noise yer lot call music. I’ve not heard anything
in the last 90 years or so that even came close to the title, can’t listen the stuff.” The pipe stem
jabbed in his direction again.
“Next, yer a slob, man. Yeh’d never make it aboard my ship. Can’t yeh pick up after yerself just
a bit, help keep things ship shape around here? All that paint and papers and such strewn
around here is a distraction.” Vincent watched amazed as his unwelcome visitor actually
shuddered.
“Next, no carousing or fornicating with strange women. Having been rid of me own wife for
many a year I cannot abide women and their chatter and I absolutely won’t have them around
the station.” At this point the arms crossed decisively across the broad chest.
“Does that mean familiar women are fine?” Vincent finally found his voice.
“Eh?” There was that fierce glance again.
Vincent cleared his throat. “You said “strange women”, does that mean familiar women are
fine?”
“Are yeh daft?” The Captain looked Vincent up and down carefully. ‘Is that why yer here? Are
yeh a harm to yerself and others?”
“Would it matter if I were?” Vincent couldn’t help but ask. He didn’t know whether or not to be
insulted the man was asking him the same question Vincent was thinking.
The Captain just shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time the village sent an idiot up here to live.
The last one was rather a nice fellow even if he didn’t bathe regularly. Do yeh bathe?”
After the Storm from the Desire Beyond Death Anthology currently available from Dreamspinner
Press .
~*~*~*~*~*
It was a better morning for Vincent when he next awoke. He moved cautiously, testing to see if
the pain was still with him or if it had left. Discovering that the latest bit had left him as
suddenly as it had come he gratefully swung his legs to the side of the bed and pushed himself
upright, wobbling a bit before he caught his balance.
Tea or coffee. Something with caffeine to clear the fuzziness from his head. That would be
welcome. The pain pills helped, but they sure gave him some weird dreams. Vincent yawned as
he padded down to the kitchen in his bare feet, shaking his head as he remembered his vivid
dreams of last night and a sea captain’s ghost.
He must have forgotten to close the windows in the kitchen again and fresh air and sunshine
streamed in. Vincent was in awe of the view; the lake and sky seemed to dwarf everything
around it. How lucky he was to been sent to this place. Perhaps, even though he was having
difficulty seeing it, everything truly did happen for a reason.
Vincent leaned against the counter as he waited for the water to boil and bent over the sink to
splash cold water on his face, enjoying the shock to his nerve endings. He ran his hand over
his closed eyes to wipe it off and felt some of the fog lifting.
He filled the mug, added a bit of honey for energy and turned to sit at the kitchen table.
“Jesus!” He exclaimed, stumbling back out of the way of the hot liquid as the mug broke against
the floor and the tea splattered everywhere.
There was a man sitting at his kitchen table. But not just any man. This was the same apparition
he had dreamed last night right down to the piercing green eyes and the pipe even now
clenched between the white teeth bared in a wicked grin.
Avoiding the mess on the floor, Vincent circled the table slowly. He rubbed his eyes to see if
the figure would disappear but the man just regarded him steadily and with amusement before
taking the pipe out of his mouth and knocking it against the edge of the table.
Vincent could only watch in a daze as ash fell from the bowl of the pipe to the kitchen floor.
“What did I tell yeh?” Ignoring the pile of ash he’d just made, the stranger gestured to the mug
and tea on the floor. “Yer making a mess.”
“Who are you?” Vincent asked slowly as he looked around to make sure this was his kitchen.
He really needed that caffeine now. “What are you doing here?”
His visitor just sighed and shook his head at Vincent’s puzzlement. “Didn’t we go over this last
night?” He enquired in his deep voice.
“Last night?” Vincent parroted.
“Yeh remember, don’t yeh?” The green eyes fixed back on Vincent. “I introduced myself to yeh
then, isn’t it time you returned the courtesy by the way?”
“Right.” Vincent muttered as he sat carefully down at the table across from the man in the
rough clothing. There wasn’t anything necessarily strange about them, a pair of pants, some
type of shirt and a jacket. It was just the materials and cut looked different somehow.
“I’m Vincent Poulsen, I’m renting this station house for a few months, until…” His voice tapered
off and Vincent gave up and just stared at the other man. Maybe it hadn’t been a dream last
night; maybe this fellow had broken in and was just taking advantage of his confused state.
Stranger things could happen, right?
“Poulsen, huh? That’s a Scandinavian name. I used to have a sailor under me named Poulsen,
man couldn’t speak a lick of English but he could work from sunup to sundown without a word
of complaint. “ There was that grin again, Vincent thought. “Perhaps he did, and I just didn’t
understand him, eh?” There was that hearty laugh. “Too bad for him.”
“So you’re in the Navy?” Vincent tried playing along.
His visitor just laughed again. “Not for a long while, and not in the way yeh be meaning. I told
yeh, I was a ship’s captain afore I was keeper of this lighthouse.”
“Right.” Vincent repeated. So who could he call, the police? The Preservation Society? Where
would the best place to call and find out if there were any escaped mental patients in the area?
“So, I agreed to let yeh stay last night, against my better judgment mind yeh. But yeh seem to
have caught me at a weak moment.” The man shrugged and the end of the pipe jabbed in
Vincent’s direction. “But if you’re to stay it’s best we set up some ground rules.”
“Right.” Vincent struggled to unscramble his thoughts.
“First of all, don’t be playing any of that rackety noise yer lot call music. I’ve not heard anything
in the last 90 years or so that even came close to the title, can’t listen the stuff.” The pipe stem
jabbed in his direction again.
“Next, yer a slob, man. Yeh’d never make it aboard my ship. Can’t yeh pick up after yerself just
a bit, help keep things ship shape around here? All that paint and papers and such strewn
around here is a distraction.” Vincent watched amazed as his unwelcome visitor actually
shuddered.
“Next, no carousing or fornicating with strange women. Having been rid of me own wife for
many a year I cannot abide women and their chatter and I absolutely won’t have them around
the station.” At this point the arms crossed decisively across the broad chest.
“Does that mean familiar women are fine?” Vincent finally found his voice.
“Eh?” There was that fierce glance again.
Vincent cleared his throat. “You said “strange women”, does that mean familiar women are
fine?”
“Are yeh daft?” The Captain looked Vincent up and down carefully. ‘Is that why yer here? Are
yeh a harm to yerself and others?”
“Would it matter if I were?” Vincent couldn’t help but ask. He didn’t know whether or not to be
insulted the man was asking him the same question Vincent was thinking.
The Captain just shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time the village sent an idiot up here to live.
The last one was rather a nice fellow even if he didn’t bathe regularly. Do yeh bathe?”
