© MMXX All Rights Reserved.
Authors Note:
I originally wrote this as a writing exercise to tell a complete story in as few words as possible. The original draft was 441 words. I tried to post online but it was under the minimum word count. After that, I lost the story. I remembered writing it but... One day, I found the story again. I added details, dialogue, and other changes. I hope you like it.Warning:
This story contains no overt erotic elements. It’s a story of love lost and found. If this is not your kind of unsmut please find another story.§
- THE COWBOY -
Although all his friends laughed at him Blake knew that mermaids are real. It was a strange thing for a cowboy to argue about, since he lived and worked inland, well away from the ocean. After every cattle drive, he bypassed the cathouses and saloons to head for the Florida coast. He spent his days on a pier and watched the ocean as he searched for his beloved mermaid.
§ §
- ANDERSONVILLE -
Before he became a cowhand, Blake fought in the War Between the States. He enlisted at the ripe old age of 15, and at the Battle of Shiloh, all his troop’s officers and non-coms died. Blake took command and led them in a charge that saved the life of General Grant’s chief of staff. Grant promoted Blake to Sargent on the spot. Blake had a natural affinity with horses and could read the land better than some Native scouts. In early 1863 he went to scout behind enemy lines for a possible invasion of Georgia. On his second night, he took shelter in what he thought was an abandoned barn. When he woke the next morning, he found a large force of Rebs encamped around it. Before he could duck back inside a sentry spotted him and Blake raised his hands. He knew as long as he was alive, he could try and escape.
The Rebs trussed him up and put him with several other Yankee prisoners. After a few miserable days with little food and less water, the prisoners got onto a wagon. A squad of Reb soldiers rode with them. As they rode, the Rebs joked about the horrible conditions at Andersonville prison. Blake gagged when the stench of defecation, disease, and death hit his nose. They were still miles from the camp. He decided he would escape tonight before hunger and dehydration made him too weak. They entered the camp through the North gate at dusk. The Rebs took everything he had including his shoes and socks.
Around midnight when the camp was still and quiet, Blake found a Reb sentry and snuck up behind him. He wrapped his arms around the man's neck, and they struggled until the Reb collapsed to the ground and lay still. Blake took his rifle, ammo, and everything else including his socks and shoes, ‘shit, too small,’ he cussed. He kept them to trade for food or something as he made his way through enemy territory. Blake pulled on the Reb uniform and made his way to the south gate, with the body over his shoulder. “Dead Yankee,” he told the sentry at the gate. “Damn scavengers stripped him bare afore I found him." The sentry opened the gate and let Blake out to put the body in the mass grave outside the wall. He grabbed a horse from the corral and rode South. He didn’t look back.
§ § §
- ON THE RUN -
Blake figured that if they discovered he escaped, they would send patrols north to look for him. They wouldn’t think a Yankee would head deeper into enemy territory. He hoped if they caught up to him, they would think he was a deserter and arrest him. If they thought he was a spy, they’d lynch him. On his first night, he found an old burned-out farmhouse. He tied the horse to a tree after he let it drink its fill from a rain barrel. He drank too then tried to wash the smell out of both uniforms. He didn’t want to ride into a town and smell like death. He planned to head south and get on a Reb blockade runner. Somehow, he would signal the Union Navy ships so they could stop the Reb ship and he would be safe. Once he was on a Union ship, he would reveal who he was to the ship’s Captain.
It took him over two months to get to the Florida coast. He had to hide from every Reb soldier he saw, and detour around every town, village, and hamlet. One night when he hid in a hollow as a Battalion of infantry marched past, he found the body of a Union officer. He left the small shoes and took the officer’s shoes that were too big. But at least he could wear them. He took the officer’s sword and said a short prayer over the fallen warrior. ‘Does anyone know where this poor bastard fell? Does his family know he’s dead?’
A week later Blake found the coast. It took another three weeks to find a port with a blockade runner. Being a landlubber his whole life, Blake had no idea how to sail. He could row and paddle but knew the Rebs would be able to shoot him dead before he could get out of range. So, he did what any soldier would do to get aboard a ship without orders. He found a local tavern that catered to the Reb navy. He saw a Reb Navy officer at the bar. He raised his voice and said, “Well we would've won this here war already. Only reason we ain't is those damn Navy boys can't get us enough bullets to kill them damn Yankees. All they do is sit in port gettin' drunk and fuckin' whores. While the Army kills Yankee's the Navy makes bastards."
Of course, the Navy officer took umbrage at those comments. He stood up, his hand hovered near his saber. “Suh, I say Suh, do you have a quarrel with me suh?”
“I don’t have a quarrel with you. I wanna know when the navy will stop fuckin’ whores long enough to get us bullets to fight with.”
The officer stepped up to Blake and used a glove to smack him in the face. Blake slugged him in the nose and knocked him onto his ass. The civilians in the bar laughed. The officer stood up and dusted himself off. He looked at Blake and said, “I invite you outside suh. Where we can debate the merits of our respective services.” The debate ended with three black eyes, two fat lips, one bloody nose, and a broken hitching post. When the fight ended, the two men shook hands. The officer looked Blake over with respect. “Suh, we set sail tonight. If you want to see real men fight, why don’t you sail with us. We weigh anchor one hour after dark.”
Blake smirked when his plan worked. “Yeah, I’ll go wid ya,” he said and saluted. The officer returned the salute and headed back to the ship for a new uniform. Blake found a hotel and sweet-talked the sweet young Southern Belle at the counter. He got a free room and use of the semi-private bath. She felt awed by the hero of the South and fell in love with the handsome heroic soldier.
Blake took a nap then found the livery and sold the horse. He took a bath and got a shave. He washed his clothes, and ate a huge meal, in the hotel's main room. The young lady at the desk made sure she got to serve the man she decided was her future husband. When she wasn't bringing him something she stared at him with wide eyes and giggled every time she got close to him. When he finished his second piece of pie, he tried to figure out how he could escape and survive.
§ § § §
- ALL ABOARD -
As the sun sank Blake got on a longboat that some burly sailors rowed out to the AD Vance, a modern steamship only two years out of the Scottish shipyards. Once he was aboard a Boatswain showed him where to stow his gear, Blake was left alone to store his gear, not that he had any. He looked around and saw a bunch of oil lamps and candles and a plan formed in his mind. He went back on deck to watch and wait for the right time to burn the ship. He figured the Rebs would be too busy with the fire to fight the Union ships and he’d be able to jump overboard and swim to the Union vessel.
The night was as dark as closed eyes. It was overcast, and there was no moon. Blake held his hand against the tip of his nose and still couldn’t see it. The Reb sailors went about their work without a sound. The lines pulled aboard, and the ship was underway. Blake could see a faint glow in the distance. “What’s that light?”
He heard someone spit some tobacco juice over the side, "Dem's those damn yank ships. I reckon dey is five er six miles Southwest o’ us." Then he heard the man walk away.
Blake bided his time and watched the glow get closer. He wanted to be as close to the Union ships as possible. When it seemed that the light was as close as it would get, Blake found a lantern and wrapped it in a piece of cloth he scrounged. He put the bundle on the deck and stepped on it, as he coughed to hide the sound of glass breaking. "Hush up ya landlubber," one of the sailors hissed.
When no one else said anything, he sighed in relief. Blake kicked the oil-soaked cloth until it hung into an open hatch that led to the crew berths. He knew there was a second hatch at the far end. He struck a match and held it to the oil-soaked cloth which caught and illuminated the night. As he dashed toward the aft end he tossed every oil lamp and other flammable items he could to the burning rag. Soon the fire raged out of control and screams of horror and angry curses filled the night air. Everyone knew the Yankee ships were on their way, and they had to fight a fire and the hated Yankees. Any attempt to fight the fire died as fast as the dry wood of the ship was consumed.
§ § § §
- THE FLOATING DEAD -
As four men manned the oars to row away from the floating inferno the rest pulled soggy survivors aboard. What Blake didn't know, was that several Rebel warships patrolled the coast. They were closer to the AD Vance. As soon as the Yankee ships came in range, the hidden Confederate ships opened fire. Now Blake had to deal with angry Rebel sailors and a naval battle. Blake moved to the forward part of the boat to guide the rowers as cannonballs and rockets flew overhead. Bake heard a massive explosion that made his ears ring. He looked over his shoulder to see a cannonball had fallen short. It killed most of the men in the boat. The few survivors had wounds that ranged from wooden shrapnel to missing limbs. Blake examined himself and sighed in relief to find he only had a few small cuts and some bruised ribs. He had no idea how he got so lucky. He knew the boat he was in would break apart and sink, so he looked for something to stay afloat until the battle ended.
He saw a large piece of wooden debris several feet away. He leapt toward it and fell short. His damaged ribs hit the water first, and he swallowed salt water when he screamed. The weight of his boots and the two wool uniforms dragged him down. The water wasn't too deep, and Blake hit bottom. He jumped and clawed his way up to the surface as his lungs burned for air. He fought his way up from the briny deep while his heart raced. He broke the surface and gulped in the cool night air. Something large bobbed in the waves. Blake realized it was buoyant enough to support him, so he climbed on top of the object, grateful for the respite. Safe for the moment, Blake looked around and realized the battle was over. The burning ship was off in the distance, and he was in the dark. “Hello! Anyone alive out here.” He didn’t get an answer. "Anyone alive," he screamed and hoped someone, anyone would answer. He didn’t want to face the open ocean alone. He wanted someone, anyone to keep him company. No one responded to his cries. Blake's body had reached its limit. He was mentally and physically exhausted, so he fell asleep.
The morning sun danced on Blake’s face and water splashed his cheek. He woke up and blinked as he tried to remember where he was. During the night he moved around, and his head hung off the side of, ‘What am I on,’ Blake asked himself. He sat up and looked down. As soon as he did, he wished he hadn't. He was on the corpse of a rebel sailor. After he fed the fish his dinner from last night, he realized there were dark and ominous clouds on the horizon. Blake looked in all directions and didn't see any sign of ships or land. Not knowing what to do Blake called out for help and got no response. He didn't even see debris from the battle in the water. around him. About an hour later it was dark as night. Lightning and thunder were almost constant. The sea had grown rough, and the winds howled. “You ain’t killed me yet. You think a little storm will get me,” and he laughed. The waves grew taller than Blake on his horse and he fell into the water. When Blake surfaced, he couldn't even see the corpse. Blake fought to keep his head above water while he tried to figure out how to stay alive, again.
§ § § § §
- FOR REAL -
Minutes later his sodden clothes became too heavy, and he was too tired. He slipped under the waves. He knew he was about to drown. There was nothing left. ‘Hell of a way for a Cavalry Sergeant to die,’ he thought as he sank deeper into the sea. He closed his eyes and recited a half-remembered prayer from his childhood. As the words he learned at his mother's knee came back to him, he felt something. His descent stopped and he felt something take hold of him and pull him to the surface. He opened his eyes to see who saved him. His oxygen-starved brain couldn’t make sense of the images his eyes fed it. There was a beautiful, flaxen-haired, bare-breasted creature in front of him. Her arms wrapped around him, and she carried him to the surface faster than a human could.
Once his head breached the surface, Blake sucked in air like his life depended on it. While he sucked in the cool crisp air, Blake saw two other mermaids nearby. The trio supported him so he could breathe. When the rain started, Blake opened his mouth as wide as he could and drank every drop of water he could. The Mermaids kept him afloat and moved through the storm-tossed seas with ease. Blake had no idea where they planned to take him. He was happy to be alive. He lost track of time and fell into and out of consciousness. He figured he spent three or four days with the mermaids. He wondered how far he'd drifted and how much longer it would take to reach land. During his time with them, they never spoke. He tried to talk to them, and they looked at him when he spoke, but they never reacted to his words. He couldn’t figure out how they communicated with each other.
When Blake saw a landmass, he had no idea what country it was. As they got closer, he saw a ship and he squinted to see what flag it flew. Tears fell from his eyes when he saw that Star-Spangled Banner Wave. He gestured to the ship as he stripped off the gray uniform and let it float away. The mermaids swam toward the ship until the sailors heard him call out. The captain ordered a boat lowered. Blake watched as it moved toward him. He grabbed his mermaid and asked, "Why did you rescue me?" She kissed him with a burning passion then dove as the boat approached.
§ § § § § §
- ANOTHER SHIP -
The sailors pulled him aboard, and swore they heard him mumble, "Marry me, mermaid, marry me." They wrote it off to exposure and dehydration. The sailors rowed back to the ship, and Blake sat up and saw the three mermaids as they frolicked in the distance. He knew they had stayed to watch him. As he stood on the deck of the ship, Blake looked for his friends one more time. He saw his mermaid wave, blew him a kiss and she disappeared in the waves. Blake knew one day he would find her. He had to, there was no way he could love a woman like he loved her. His heart burned with desire, he had to find her again.
The ship's surgeon pushed all the seamen out of the way. "How the fuck did a calvary Sargent get stranded in the middle of the Caribbean," he asked no one. “Take this man to my quarters.” Several of the sailors grabbed him and put him in a soft bed. As soon as Blake's head hit the bed, he was asleep.
When Blake awoke, he stood up and stretched. He felt famished and thirsty beyond belief. He opened the door and stepped onto the main deck of the ship. When the sailors saw him, they backed away and called for the surgeon.
Blake stood before the ship's commanding officer, a Navy lieutenant. "Where the hell did you come from Sargent," he asked.
Blake related his story, and when got to the naval battle, the lieutenant stopped him. "That battle took place over two weeks ago. Am I supposed to believe you've been floating around the Caribbean on a corpse? For all that time? No food, little water.
When Blake described the storm, the Lieutenant looked at him puzzled. "There was a report of a severe storm several hundred miles south of Texas. There is no way you drifted there and back here in a few days. I don't know if you're telling sea stories or if you lost your mind." The Lieutenant stared at him for several minutes. "Master at Arms," he called.
The door to his cabin opened. A rotund Irish man stepped into the room. "Sair?"
"Put the Sergeant in the brig. We'll turn him over to the Army when we return to port."
"Aye aye sair," the large man said. He seized Blake and dragged him through the ship to the brig. He unlocked the single-cell pushed him in, and slammed the door shut.
§ § § § § §
- ASHORE -
Blake had no idea how long they kept him in the cell. When the ship made port, the big Irishman escorted him off the ship. On the pier, an Army Captain took him from the Irishman. “Well, well, well trooper. Thought you could desert. We’ll see what a court-martial has to say about that. Get into that wagon and don’t give us any trouble.” Blake climbed into the wagon driven by a Corporal. There was a battle-worn private that rode shotgun and another in the back that watched him.
The wagon stopped in front of a hospital. The private took Blake’s arm and led him inside. He was given a bed, clean clothes, and food. Several of the doctors asked his story and he told them all about the mermaids. They all wrote it off due to his medical condition. No one believed him. No one knew what to do with him after he recovered. His unit had been killed or captured, so there were no records that pertained to him. The local papers ran a series of stories about the waterlogged cavalry trooper. Blake lost track of time. For the first time in years, he was safe, his belly was full, and he slept soundly. One day he had taken a midday nap when gunfire made him jump out of bed. He thought the town was under attack by the rebels. He ran outside to grab a gun and ammo from a corpse. Instead, He found the townsfolk celebrating the end of the war. Blake never went back to the hospital. He reported to a local cavalry unit. In all the excitement, no one questioned him. Three months later he received his discharge from the Army and his back pay.
With the money he had, he could almost afford forty acres. He needed more money to buy the land and more to buy the cows. He would need to work as a cowpuncher for two or three years then he’d be set and could buy a herd of his own. A few hundred acres in Florida, where the mermaids found the ship. He worked hard and saved his money until he could buy his land and cattle.
§ § § § § §
- LATER YEARS -
He spent his days caring for his two-dozen head and evenings he sat on a pier near the ocean and mumbled, "Swim to me my love, swim to me." The locals thought he was crazy. He was a Yankee carpetbagger that lived alone and never showed interest in any of the widows. Not even this one Southern Belle who swore she met him before but could never say where. They all ignored him, but soon the locals named the pier Blake’s Pier.
Blake sat in his usual spot at the end of the pier. It was high tide, so he pulled off his boots and put them aside. He took off his socks and stuffed them in his boots. His Colt Model 1860 hurt his ribs that never healed right, so he took off his gun belt, the only thing he had left from his time as a trooper. He wrapped the well-used and cared for leather belt around his six-gun and stuffed it in his boot. He let his feet soak in the water as he watched the ocean like he had for so many years before.
Off in the distance, a tail broke the surface of the ocean. Blake jumped up, "It's her," he yelled and dove into the ocean. He swam out to sea and yelled, "Wait for me my love, wait for me."
No one that watched Blake swim into eternity as he screamed about love ever forgot the sight. No one ever saw Blake again, but he was not forgotten. The locals left his boots and gun on the pier until a storm destroyed it several years later. During the clean-up after the storm, someone found a rebel soldier’s uniform on the beach, as pristine as the day it was issued. No one knew where it came from.
Blake’s farm stood empty until recently. A retirement home called The Blake now sits on his land. No one knows where the money came from to build it. Or who got the property rights from his estate. If you’re ever around Front Beach Road by Miller County Pier, look for an elderly man pushing an elderly yet beautiful flaxen-
haired woman in a wheelchair. You’ll know it’s them because she’ll be covered from chin to toes in layers of blankets, even in the hottest weather she’s wrapped like it’s an Alaskan winter. Ask them about mermaids. They’ll make you believers too.
Please let me know whether or not you liked this story. I do not make money from writing. My sole reward is your comments, votes, likes, follows, shares, and emails. Hearing from readers is what encourages me to keep writing. I genuinely believe that feedback is a gift, and I like gifts.
Sal De Klerk, "The Salacious Scribe."
Follow me on Twitter @scribesalacious
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