Trinkets and Tides

The sky was still tinged the beautiful purplish-orange of sunset and though it was beginning to darken into night, the air still buzzed with anticipation and excitement. Music from all around thumped through the air and dizzyingly so. Wherever you turned, boys and girls in makeup or costume, affecting humorous West Country accents, dangling plastic swords around as they went, excited grins on their faces.

The mingled scents of sizzling street food, salt-tinged sea breeze and mild sweat also filled the air, somehow adding to the overall feel of playful chaos that had long become typical of the Gasparilla Fest. Overhead, banners fluttered merrily, vibrant reds and blues and golds still shining.

“Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me!” Matthew Weiske roared excitedly in song, bouncing on the ground and tapping feet against the ground, aqua-green eyes twinkling, brown hair being tousled by the playful breeze. His arms, he had slung around the shoulders of friends who had their arms slung over the shoulders of others and so on and so on, forming a singing dancing circle.

“We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot!” The girl to his left continued, shaking her head as she did, an expression of playful reluctance on her face, dark ponytail blowing slightly in the wind.

“Drink up me hearties, yo ho!” Everyone in the circle roared simultaneously, raising brimming mugs of ale that really only was apple juice. “Yo ho!” They roared again before slamming mugs together, sending apple juice pouring and then taking wild swigs.

Matt and Viv broke away from the circle afterward, arms still around one another, laughing playfully and sipping from their cups.

“Alright, lovebirds, break it up,” Jackson said from behind him, voice long and exasperated. They turned to face him, knowing mischievous grins on their faces. Jackson tugged at the tattered brown vest he had on beneath his trench coat, adjusted it slightly and then looked up at them. “What now?”

Matt’s eyes lit up and he handed his mug to Viv before straightening, clearing his throat and then unsheathing a plastic sword, aiming it at Jackson’s nose. “Behold,” he began then cleared his throat again. When he continued, it was in an unconvincing, exaggerated pirate accent. “By the seven seas, behold the most fearsome pirate to ever sail the Tampa Bay! Duel me, my good man, or have your honor forever questioned!”

Jackson rolled his eyes, brushed the sword out of his face. “Be honest, you’ve been waiting all night for a chance to challenge someone to a duel, haven’t you?”

“Yep.” Matt nodded as he put the sword away. “That and the chance to ask someone to parley,” he admitted then his eyes lit up again as he looked at the others. He cleared his throat and prepared to speak.

“We’re already gathered and in conversation,” Viv said before he could. “A parley is redundant here, isn’t it?”

“Babe, come on,” Matt said in playful disappointment, his expression falling. “Just let me have this, alright?”

Viv sighed. “Fine, have at it.”

“Aha!” Matt exclaimed excitedly then set one foot atop a stool, leaning forward slightly and turning his face to them. He fit his hat atop his head, brandished his trench coat theatrically and cleared his throat. “By the code of the brethren, I invoke the right to parley,” he said. “Any of you despicable, two-faced, back-stabbing, ale-swigging gents mind taking me to ya captain so I might have a honorable word or two with him?”

“You’re already talking to the captain, mate,” Jackson responded, slipping his hands into his pockets with some swagger and bending his head slightly.

“Great, now that that’s done, can we look around?” Jess asked.

“Yep,” Matt replied, looking satisfied. He returned to Viv, swung his arm around her, took his mug back from her and planted a brief kiss on her cheek before they continued forward, moving through the festival.

Every few steps, they’d come across someone attempting to pose for a photo or video who would accidentally bump into them before apologizing rather quickly and sheepishly. In one instance, Matt convinced them all to join a photo being taken, standing with his chest puffed out and face tilted upward, sword held out at his side while the others had on awkward smiles or eye-rolling expressions. Once the photo had been taken, Matt had it sent to his phone then shared with the others before they continued.

They went past stall after stall, each one lit up, glowing brightly now that the sun had almost set entirely. Each one had an assortment of items on displays. Pirate hats of varying colors and sizes, plastic swords, hook hands, eye patches, trench coats, toy pistols. Some stores had more functional items like compasses and actual sea charts. Others had jewelry on display, trinkets and necklaces and rings and whatnot, each labeled after some trinket that had been present in some popular pirate movie or book or comic.

Jess stopped at one such stall, wavy hair catching the light from the stall and shimmering almost. She picked up a golden medallion on display, snorted as she raised it for the others to see. “This one’s unlabeled,” she said. “Think it’s real gold?”

“For $1.50?” Matt snorted. “If that’s real gold then I’m the real Jack Sparrow.”

“Hey, you totally could be,” Jackson said playfully as he turned to them, an eyepatch slapped over his right eye now, one he’d picked up off the display stand at the stall. “Hey, wanna go check for action figures? I bet there’s some stall here that’s got a bunch of those. A model of the Queen Anne’s Revenge would be incredible, could add that to my collection.”

“Boys.” Viv sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, right, like you haven’t got a collection of your own.” Matt snorted.

“Hush,” Viv said and playfully punched him in the shoulder, the two of them grinning at one another.

Jess set the medallion back down on display while Jackson paid for the eyepatch. And then they were on their way, continuing through the festival, stopping at stalls to ogle at whatever was on display, a now half-blind Jackson constantly knocking items over and having to apologize sheepishly before eventually pulling the eyepatch off and tucking it away.

“There,” Matt said after another half hour of moving through the festival, pointing at a tent just up ahead with a series of figures and models on display.

Jackson’s eyes lit up at the sight of the stall and started excitedly toward it. They were halfway to the stall when their path was suddenly blocked off by a short man with rough black hair, face stained with dirt, eyes a little crazy.

Matt frowned at the sight of the man. He was clad in a tattered jacket donned over a white shirt now more brown than white, paired with brown pants a little loose, an empty holster at his waist. He had on a set of beaded necklaces and beaded bracelets around his wrists. On his feet, he’d gone with worn-looking brown leather boots. The man bowed slightly, tipping his head to them.

“Treasures, young buccaneers?” His gravelly voice queried.

Viv’s eyes went a little wide and she turned to Matt. “See, now that’s how you do a pirate accent.”

“Genuine relics, I tell you, the real magic of the seven seas,” the man continued. “And all at unbelievable discounts. Come, gather here, choose your treasure.” He beckoned them toward his tent, which had shelves and old-looking wooden tables placed outside, items on display atop them.

“Discounted magic, huh?” Jackson asked, picking up a ring with a ruby gem in it. He held it up, turned it over in his hand, the ruby gem gleaming slightly under the light of the tent. “Sounds legit,” he added, tone skeptical and unconvinced.

“Trust me, my good sir, all of this is far more real than anything else here. Go on, have a look, choose what you desire.”

Jackson exchanged skeptical glances with the others, as if waiting for one of them to politely let the man down and inform him they weren’t interested.

Matt shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt,” he said. “He’s offering discounts.”

Jackson sighed, nodded at Matt and turned back to the shelves, examining all of the items on display, moving from shelf to shelf.

“Go on, go on,” the merchant said to the rest of them, eyes twinkling as he encouraged the rest of them to glance through his items. “Pick your trinket, pirates. Magic awaits.”

Matt moved past the shelves, glancing at the items with little interest until his hand brushed against a peculiar necklace. He paused, looked at the necklace, frowned. He grabbed the pendant around the necklace and held it up. The necklace was a silver chain linked to a round compass pendant that had intricate designs around, and a needle that shone blue and gleamed under the light. The compass had no cardinal directions on, no markings or any of the sort, just a needle against a blank backdrop. In his hand, the pendant felt strangely heavy but also pleasantly warm. What the compass was made of, he had no idea but it wasn’t steel or gold or silver.

“This one,” he said then, louder than he’d meant to. He straightened and held it up for the merchant to see. “How much for this one?”

“That one?” The merchant’s lips curled into a smile. “No price, mate. All yours if ya want it.”

“You said they were discounted,” Viv said, a little suspicious. “Not free.”

“That one’s free,” the merchant said, pointing to the necklace. “Be careful with it though. Mischievous, that one.”

Matt exchanged confused looks with the others. He shrugged, slipped the necklace into his pocket and continued to look at the other items on display. After a while, he decided there was nothing else he particularly wanted and with the others similarly uninterested in the mysterious merchant’s stock, they bid him farewell and continued on their way.

Their next stop was the stall with the figures where Jackson was let down, arriving just in time to see someone else leave with the last available Queen Anne’s Revenge model. He settled instead for a cheap figure of Blackbeard and then they went to find a vacant table to sit at.

“I’ll go get us food,” Jackson said when they arrived at the table. “Any of you want anything specific?”

“Nah,” Matt said, shaking his head. “Anything’s great, thank you, man.”

Viv and Jess both shook their heads, thanked Jackson and took their seats at the table, Viv plopping down right next to Matt while Jess sat across from her.

“That discount guy seem odd to you guys?” Viv asked.

“Crazy more like it,” Matt answered as he pulled the necklace from his pocket, suddenly remembering that he was there. “Guy’s even nerdier than we are with that costume and that accent.”

“Are we sure that was a costume?” Jess queried.

Matt snorted. “Come on, no way he really dresses like that. Plus, he had a stall with stuff. He’s clearly just here for the festival, and committing to the act. That accent was impressive though, I’ll give him that.”

“What’s that anyways?” Viv asked, gesturing to the necklace in Matt’s hand.

“Dunno.” Matt shrugged. “Some sort of compass,” he murmured, turning the pendant over in his hand, a curious expression on his face. “Looks like junk, but doesn’t feel like it.” He flipped the needle around himself, raised the compass to his ear and rattled it as though expecting something to be inside. There was nothing. He shrugged again. “Eh, whatever.”

He slipped the necklace on and glanced at them, drumming his hands against the table. “What time you think we should start heading home?”

“Why? Tired already?” Jess queried. “Gotten all that pirateness out of your system already?”

“I mean, party’s gotta end at some point, right?”

“Dunno, still pretty lively. I think we could hang out another couple—,” Viv’s voice trailed then, eyes going a little wide as she stared at Matt. “Matty,” she said. “Your necklace—it’s glowing.”

Matt turned to her, snorted. “Yeah, nice try, Viv,” he began but halted when he saw the reflection in her eyes. He stared down at his neck and sure enough the chain was glowing, pulsing a light blue all the way down to the compass, the needle on the compass spinning wildly now.

“What the hell?” He grabbed the necklace and attempted to pull it off. It wouldn’t budge. His heart sunk to the depths of the stomach at once, eyes widening in terror. “Guys!” he yelled, voice frantic. “It won’t come off!”

“Matt, stop playing, take it off!” Viv sounded just as scared as he was.

“I’m not playing!” He shrieked, trying frantically to get the necklace off. It wasn’t that the thing had become heavy or impossible to lift. It wasn’t crushing or anything. It just felt glued to his skin, stuck around his neck. “Viv, Jess, do something!”

Viv grabbed onto the necklace, attempted to pull it off, her face very quickly slacking in confusion when she found it really wouldn’t budge. Jess hurried from across the table to Matt’s side, attempted to pull it too.

“Guys, hurry!” Matt shrieked. “If this thing’s some sort of bomb and it—,”

“It’s not a bomb!” Jess shrieked back.

The compass started to vibrate against his chest then, rattling rather loudly, and he felt his head go a little light suddenly.

“Holy crap, we’re going to die,” he said, just as the compass itself started to glow brilliantly. He squeezed his eyes shut, drew what he thought would be a sharp final breath.

Light exploded out of the compass, consumed them all. And then nothing.

Only a minute later, Jackson returned to the table with bouncing strides, tray in hand. He stopped when he saw the table, vacant, cast a confused glance around. “Guys?” He called, setting the tray down on the table and then glancing beneath it as if expecting to find them hiding there in wait, an attempt at a prank. “Jess! Matt! Viv!” He yelled. “Guys!”

None of them answered. They were gone.