My Journal
By Harriman Nelson
75
Sharkey was saying a lot, despite not saying a single word, as he
flew me to Dublin. He grunted and scowled his displeasure as I leafed through
the printout that Sparks had made for me about Dublin, places to see, things to
do, and what not to miss. Things that were and weren’t on the Piccadilly
itinerary. Except O’Neil’s Pub. Now, that I had to go to.
I wasn’t sure Mrs. P. would be glad to see me. After all, I was an
extra number for all of her pre-arranged meals and tours. But if she had become
accustomed to Lee and Joe spending some time on their own, surely she couldn’t
begrudge me joining the boys, at least for a day.
I’d skipped breakfast, hoping to have it with Lee at the Queen of
Tarts. It looked quaint from the picture Chip had managed to find. And the
reviews of the food and service were outstanding. Not that I really wanted to
spend a fair chunk of the morning indulging my appetite.
Lee wanted to talk to me and though he’d said it wasn’t about resuming
command, I hoped I might be able to put in a few little hints again about why
he should. And, after all, Chip doesn’t have a sixth sense about the boat. Which
in my humble opinion means that Lee is Seaview’s master, at least as far as
she’s concerned or she wouldn’t have given him ‘vibes’ all these years. Or for
that matter, having tantrums that can’t be explained .
“Nice looking town,” Sharkey said, taking me out of my musing, and
nosing us toward Dublin Port. “Er...you will take a few precautions, won’t you
sir? I mean...what with that ghost and all?”
“I don’t think Sir Walter’s actually haunting the captain, at
least not anymore that I know of.”
“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean the little people won’t...”
“Francis, it’s just a museum that we’re going to. Set us down over
there...I see a cab on the dock and two men waving...could be Lee and Joe, er,
the captain and commander.”
After we’d splashed down and Sharkey had backed the flying sub to
the dock, Lee climbed aboard as soon as the hatch opened.
“Nice landing! Who piloted? Ah, good job, Chief,” he added as he
saw him in the pilot’s seat. “Welcome to Ireland, Harry!” he said grabbing my
shoulders in familial greeting, as Joe reached into the hatch to help Sharkey
with my one suitcase.
“Oh, wait a minute," Lee turned, "Joe?”
Joe jumped out and just as quickly re-entered with a box loaded
with cat toys. Lee lifted one out. It was a felt mouse.
“Not a rodent that the kitty is used to, but she
might appreciate it. We didn’t get any kitty litter or cat food, as Chip’s
probably already been to town for those.
So,” he added, as he leaned against the ladder, his arms across his chest,
“what name won the contest?”
“About that,” I said, “I’m afraid I sort of...well... unintentionally
influenced things. The crew voted to go with my suggestion instead of a drawing.”
“Ah, well, Chief, make sure to remind Mr. Morton to write her up
on the roster. Sea Cat Maleficent. Takes some getting used to. ”
“Chip calls her ‘Malllie’, I said.
“Add an aka to that effect then, Sharkey. Well, time and tide wait
for no man. Have a good flight back to Clyde, Chief.”
“Sir. Um...”
“Yes?”
“Well, it’s just that Leprechaun Museum...”
“What about it?” Lee asked, noticing my groan.
“It’s just that...well, I read up on it online and...there’ve been
rumors...”
“About?”
“About the fact that they’re supposed have a pot of gold
that King Brian Boru took from the King of the Leprechauns. Way back in the
olden days...and...you just be careful not to touch the pot or any of the gold,
sir. It’s cursed and...”
Lee’s chuckle turned into lighthearted laughter and he patted
Sharkey on the shoulder. “I’ll be careful. Besides, I doubt if anything so
legendary and valuable would be accessible to the public. It’s just hype to get the tourists in.
That’s all.”
“Well, I hope so, Skipper…have a good time, Admiral. Um, do you
know how long you’ll be here?”
“I’m not sure yet. I might just decide to take a few days soaking in
the ambience of the ‘old sod’. We Nelsons came from Ireland, remember, well, at
least the O’Hara Nelsons. Have a good flight back.”
“Sir.”
In minutes I was in the cab, Joe beside me, but Lee had remained
on the dock, watching the flying sub make her way out and up into the air,
until she was out of sight.
“He misses them doesn’t he, Joseph?” I asked. “The flying sub,
Seaview...”
Do you know what he wants to talk to you about?” he asked.
“No, I was hoping you did.”
Just then Lee got in the front seat, saying “Clontarf Castle Hotel,
driver.”
“Aye, laddie,” the driver said, turning slightly and winking at
me.
Oh gawd! It was...was...
“O’Shaughnessy!”
“Aye that’s my name,” he replied, raising an eyebrow, clearly not
recognizing me. No, this wasn’t Patrick or Mickey, leprechauns first class and
shoemakers.
“Er, sorry, you just reminded me of someone... twins actually.”
“Aye, the laddie was a bit startled by my appearance too and told
me the same thing. Strong family resemblance in the O’Shaughnessy family,
however far extended. You met some of the family in America then?”
“Er, yes, most probably,” I lied, sort of. After all, Seaview was an American
boat.
As we pulled up to the hotel and Joe paid the driver, I took Lee
aside at the hotel entrance, “Lee...”
“I know...but it can’t be either one of them...can it?”
“I guess not...still. Anywhere we can get some four leaf clovers,
for luck?”
Lee laughed, clapping me on the back as we headed to the front desk
for me to register as an extra occupant of Lee and Joe’s room. Just then a
little old lady carrying a basket of posies approached. “Want a bit of luck
today, gents? ”
“We told you to leave,” the clerk warned.
“She’s not doing any harm,” Lee said, and took out a few bills,
“I’ll take some of these lovely flowers, ma’am. And keep the change.”
“Thank you dearie,” she said, running her hand through his hair,
then handing us a bundle each. Pansies I think they were, with a few shamrocks
thrown in for good measure. “Top of the morning to you,” she said as she left.
“Hey,” Joe exclaimed as he studied Lee’s bundle. “There’s a four
leaf clover in yours! Way to go, bro! It’s your lucky day!”
Whether or not it will be Lee’s lucky day, I can’t say. We’ll be
headed to the Queen of Tarts in a few minutes and Lee’s warned me that it will
be crowded with the tour group, so to put on my good face.(He knows I can’t
abide crowded, noisy places.)
I couldn’t help but to notice that he’d put the four leaf clover
in one of his shirt’s buttonholes.
Wouldn’t Sharkey be relieved? I know I am.
