Amy M. Schaefer
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From the Front Porch

I am an "accidental blogger". When I launched my writing career in March of 2014, one of the things that I decided to include was my journaling, which I have always found to be a comforting and therapeutic endeavor.  It was a big risk to open myself up in such a public forum, but it has taught me that, for the most part, we share far more experiences than we think. It's comforting to know I'm not alone!  (*the "Button Text" is the link to my first novel)
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The Ghost of Barnabus Blackjack

10/31/2014

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The Ghost of Barnabus Blackjack
by Amy M. Schaefer


Blackjack Barney had not lived an exemplary life. He was a pirate, so no one expected good things from him, no one that is, except for his young son Evan. The day Blackjack Barney was captured by soldiers and dragged in chains back to his home town was the first day in his miserable, no good life that he had ever felt anything close to remorse for the wicked things he'd done. Too bad he'd run out of time to do anything to make amends.

On that fateful, stormy gray day in 1792, when he'd been marched through the town to the gallows, he'd caught a glimpse of his wife and boy at the edge of the crowd. His wife held the boy, her face stoic and resigned, while the boy took in every detail of the father he knew almost nothing about. The look of anguish in his eyes nearly dropped ol' Barney to his knees and it was just enough to melt his puny, cold heart. He'd been a lousy husband and an even worse father and he'd had 200 years as a ghost to kick himself for the life he'd wasted.

He sat, brooding in the dark corner of the den in the Fall of 1992, contemplating his penance while watching the young family in the next room having dinner. The couple, Frank and Ella, spent a lot of time fighting about a host of problems he only half listened to, like long hours at work, not enough income, blah, blah, blah. It was just a litany of noise to Blackjack, as he'd endured many such scenes of the living complaining almost non-stop about living. They ought to try being dead on for size, he thought bitterly.

Frank and Ella had two young sons, Elijah (six) and Ethan (nine). Blackjack liked watching the boys play video games and baseball in the backyard. He was most interested in Elijah, though. Something about the boy reminded him of his own son. Maybe it was the look in his eyes, the sorrow, as he watched his parents fight instead of spending time with the boys just being a family. Blackjack was thinking about all the things he would have done differently, when he noticed Elijah looking his way as if he could see him. His mouth formed a perfect little "O", as he sat frozen in place.

"Finish your dinner, Elijah. It's getting late," his mother scolded, but Elijah refused to move, never taking his eyes off of Blackjack. "I said finish eating," his mother snapped harshly. Blackjack frowned and said gruffly, "Better do as yer told, boy, before yer mama gets her britches in a twist." Elijah gasped and  nodded, absently spooning the remaining peas into his mouth but never taking his eyes off of Jack. "Well, I'll be damned," Blackjack swore! Nobody had ever been able to see or hear him before, but it was obvious that the boy did when he spoke around a mouth full of peas, "You're gonna have to pay the swearjar, mister. We don't use those words in this house." Jack laughed, a deep rumble he hadn't heard in over a century. "Who are  you talking to," Elijah's father wanted to know. "The pirate over there in the corner," he replied, pointing. All heads turned to look in Jack's direction. "There's nothing in the corner, son," Frank said. "You boys put your plates in the sink and go get ready for bed." As they rushed up the stairs to brush their teeth, Ethan gave Elijah a little shove. "You're stupid," he whispered and took off with a burst of speed.

Elijah climbed into bed with one of his pirate books and a flashlight, crawled deep under the covers, turned the light on and began to read. Most of the words he didn't understand but now that he'd started Kindergarten it wouldn't be long before he could read every word! He couldn't wait, even though Kindergarten wasn't as fun as everyone told him it would be. Several of the boys in his class were mean to him because he was so little for his age. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do about that and he didn't know who to ask, so he figured it was a small price to pay to keep his mouth shut if he could finally learn to read all the stories his Dad used to read him at bedtime before things got bad.

Suddenly, a big ghostly pirate head stuck up through the bottom of his bed right in front of Elijah's book! "Boo," Blackjack said softly, hoping the boy really could hear him. Elijah made a face at him. "You shouldn't go around swearing and scaring people. It's not nice," he told Blackjack in his most grown-up, scolding voice. "S'that right, boy? And who told you that?" "My granny told me," Elijah responded. "And she's the smartest person I know," he said sincerely. "Well, then she's probably got it a'right," Blackjack agreed. "How come you can see and hear me," he asked the boy. Elijah merely shrugged. "Hmmmmm. How come you're not skered of me?" Blackjack wanted to know. "Well, you don't gots an eyepatch or a wooden leg or a sword or even a parrot, so I figure ya can't be all that scary" Elijah declared, as if these things should be obvious. "What do I need an eyepatch for when I got me two good eyes?" "Cause all real pirates have one. Says so in my book," Elijah informed him and pointed to the page that he could mostly read because the words weren't too big. Blackjack studied the page for a long time before asking, "What else does it say in yer book that a pirate outta know?" So, as best he could, Elijah started back at the beginning and read the ghostly pirate the entire story, making up the parts that he didn't know how to read. Blackjack didn't mind, as he'd never learned how to read, either. When the book was done, Blackjack said, "Thanks for the story, boy. I'll think on it some while you sleep which you'd better get to right quick, as you've got school tomorrow." To that, Elijah frowned but nodded, turning off the flashlight. "You don't like going to school?" Blackjack asked. Elijah shrugged and sighed in the dark. "Hmmmmmmm," Blackjack responded. "Sounds like you got yourself some man-sized trouble. We'll talk about it when you get home tomorrow, if that suits you," he told the boy. Elijah smiled and nodded his head, closing his eyes tight and trying very hard to go to sleep. It was awfully difficult to sleep the night before something really important was about to happen, but he finally managed it! As he drifted off, he said a little prayer thanking God for sending him a friend.

...to be continued!

*If you'd like the rest of the story, keep posted as I'm going to release this as a Children's book VERY soon! Have a safe and happy Halloween!

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    About The Author

    I grew up in rural North Carolina. When I was only nineteen, I moved away and became a military wife. My only aspiration at that tender time in my life was to create an adult life that "fixed" all of the "injustices" of my childhood. Secretly, however, I wanted to reach for the sky! I wanted to be a writer and find ways to "save the world" (my mother used to say, "You have Save the World Syndrome".). Mostly, I wanted to matter.

    Since then, I have learned to reach well beyond what I ever dared to think was possible. I've learned not to allow fear to stop me from whatever future I want to create!

    What keeps me grounded? My Tribe! What provides the wind beneath my wings? A well of reserves filled with unstoppable passion!

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  • Amy M. Schaefer, Writer
  • Blog: From the Front Porch
  • Novels
  • Short Stories
    • Children's Books
  • About the Author
  • Contact
  • Photo & Art Gallery