The Mermaid by Jack Lennon

WE OPEN IN A SHANTY SAILOR’S BAR, THE KIND OF PLACE ONLY CERTAIN FOLK KNOW ABOUT OR CARE TO GO. THE AIR IS THICK WITH THE SMELL OF SALT AND UNWASHED MEN. BARELY AN EYE IS LIFTED AS AN OLD SEA DOG PULLS HIS HEAD UP FROM HIS NEWLY EMPTIED GLASS, LOOKING FOR ALL THE WORLD LIKE HE’S BEEN SAT IN THE WORN WOODEN CHAIR SINCE HE LAST MADE PORT. THE YOUNG MEN AT THE TABLE NEXT TO HIS ARE THE ONLY ONES WHO NOTICE HIS OUTBURST.

OLD SEA DOG: I TELL YE, [He bellows, suddenly, like he is continuing an ongoing conversation, or surfacing from a deep sleep] I seen a mermaid in the flesh, and they’re just as real as anything else out there in the depths of that salty old bitch. I’ve spent the best years o’ me life on her, and nobody has tasted as much of her cruelty as I. I’ll tell ye young bucks the tale, it’ll cost ye but a mouthful of that grog.

ONE OF THE MEN HANDS HIM THE BOTTLE.

OLD SEA DOG: Ah, ye be kind lads, GENEROUS lads! Just a nip, y’understand, just tae wet my whistle.

WE HEAR LONG, HARD GLUGGING SOUNDS; HE’S FINISHING THE LAST OF IT. THE OLD SEA DOG LETS OUT A BELCH THAT MAKES THE CANDLE IN FRONT OF HIM FLICKER AND SLAMS THE EMPTY BOTTLE ON THE TABLE.

OLD SEA DOG: [SIGHS] Now, when I were a young lad like yerselves, no more’n nine and ten and dumb as rocks, I worked fer an old salt, as haggard as I am now and twice as sea-weary. He was but a fourth-rate captain of a fourth-rate freighter ship, but he held great pride in his work and his crew. He worked me to the bone. When me and the lads would get a drink in him at night, he’d tell us that he had tae work harder’n the devil himself, lest he come to the surface and steal him away down tae hell. It’s said that Old Jonah loved sloth more’n any other sin, for it brought him the most souls. And if you ever were slackin’ on yer duties, you’d soon see his pale face rising out of the waves to pull you down into the depths with him.

THE OLD SEA DOG PAUSES NONCHALANTLY TO LIGHT HIS PIPE.

OLD SEA DOG: Now what the ol’ dog failed to tell me was that Old Jonah is just the messenger. Ohh yes. Davey Jones stalks these waters, you can be sure of that. He drags ye down, sure, and he gets his claws in ye while he can. But once yer down there, ye’ll be in the care o’ his seven wives.

Seven whores of Delilah they are, those jezebels of the deep. They harbour a deep hatred fer every man who ever stood astride a ship’s deck. They wouldn’t kill ye, oh no. They only sought to make a man’s life a living hell. They’d keep his lungs full and screamin’ with air while they beset him with all the curses a sailor fears most. One moment he’d look down to see his palms knotted and dark with black spots, then a vision o’ live albatross thrashing and strainin’ at his neck, while of all his best sea-mates writhed in pain. His lungs filled with fiery water, his body frozen in ice. Closing his eyes only to open them wide and unblinking tae witness the next terror. They did it fer sport. Not even lettin’ him DIE, only makin’ the torture they laid on his every waking moment worse’n the last. And laughing all the while…

THE OLD SEA DOG SEEMS TO LOSE HIMSELF IN THOUGHT FOR A MOMENT, THEN GLANCES AT THE MEN FOR THEIR REACTION. SEEING NONE THAT PLEASES HIM HE TRIES TO TWIST THE KNIFE. HE POUNDS A FIST ON THE TABLE IN FRUSTRATION. HE WANTS TO SCARE THEM, AND IT SCARES HIM THAT HE CAN’T. SOMEONE IN THE BAR STARTS TO WHISTLE A SAILOR’S SHANTY. OVER THE NEXT SECTION THE SOUNDS OF THE BAR SLOWLY FADE TO NOTHING, EXCEPT THE WHISTLING.

OLD SEA DOG: And suppose by some twist of fate you find yourself free of that hellish prison, suppose you make it back home to a warm bed and a warm woman? What, young buck, do you suppose will happen then? You’ll learn yer lesson then, and be free from the nightmare? Live out your days free from her influence? Stay home from her ocean, all safe and dry? Never hoist the mainstay in the freezin’ rain, or choke down the bones of a bilge rat ever again? Ohhh no, sonny. Ye don’t know the ways of the mermaid. But I know…goddamn you, I KNOW!!!

The OLD SEA DOG rises with his bellow and strikes the empty bottle of whiskey to the ground. The sudden noise throws the rest of the bar into silence. He is too proud to apologise for his outburst. In silence he gathers himself, wipes the spittle into his scraggly beard and sits down at the table again, the scrape of his chair legs deafening. The next part of his story is told in a conspiratorial stage whisper, as if the bar is filled with spies. Tears spring to his eyes and he unnerves the MEN, pulling them close enough to smell his rancid whisky breath.

OLD SEA DOG: I did it, ye know. I broke free. Aye! I made it out; half mad from torture, half blind from salt. Bet your arse lad, I made it out. But son, [HE GRABS THE CLOSEST LAD BY HIS SHIRT COLLAR.] they let me go. Watched me break my bonds and swim away. They LAUGHED at me, son. Can ye imagine? Delilah kept her eyes on me all the while, even as I finally broke the surface on her watery prison. Even as I swam for miles, dreaming of drowning in her ocean. When I woke up washed ashore I was greeted by her laughter; its cursed sound haunts me to this very day. That and the knowledge that I’m nothin’ but a charge of the sea now, young buck. And such is the fate of any man who dares to trespass in her waters. No matter how many years ye spend away fae her, she will find yer sleeping mind, and fill it with soft thoughts of her. Awaken every morning with the smell of the sea in yer bed, and a deep and burning need tae set sail again, dangers be damned. And that’s how she’ll get ye, at last, son. I can’t stay away lads! And one day I’ll open me eyes to find myself at some bastard helm, on my way back tae her. She ain’t finished with me yet, boys. Oh no. Not ever.

THE OLD SEA DOG LAUGHS TO HIMSELF, ON ACCOUNT OF THE WHISKEY OR THE MEMORY, THE MEN CANNOT TELL. HIS LAUGHTER GROWS, AND WE HEAR THE LAUGHTER OF WOMEN OVERLAYED WITH THE WHISTLING, BUILDING IN VOLUME AND INTENSITY, UNTIL, FINALLY, SILENCE.

END