Murdock

The artefact’s case lay before me. My broken friend sat beside me. The day was gone. Our boat had not moved. 

Jake was lifeless. He had not recovered in the slightest; it was as if his very soul had forsaken him and left him to die – to drown in his sorrow and fear. His agonic condition had led to lethargy; we had not done what his father had expected us to do. It was far too late in the day to even consider doing it. He feared the consequences that would come, and I did too. I even thought about seeking refuge with Nana. Yet that was something I now realised Jake had always sought with her – refuge, safety, escape. 

Then there was the artefact; we had not seen it yet. We were not even sure we wanted to see it. It remained hidden in its canister, and we remained unwilling to open it. 

“Maybe we should just wait – so that Maya can see it with us.” My lips parted with a worthy excuse. 

Jake nudged his head upwards. A sullen agreement.  

Another hour passed and now the sky was dark. The sun had just sunk beneath the ocean plane. We had to go. We had to make a move, be it for better or for worse. So, I decided to steer the boat back towards the dock. We would face Jake’s father together. 

 Eventually, the faint lights came into view and so too did a man. He stood like an old stone, battered from many storms, and likewise he had the face of a weathered gargoyle – an angry, depraved face. 

He tied up the boat in a rugged and heavy manner, yet his breath was shallow and cold. He saw us off and onto the dock. Jake was silent, his head hung low, but I had told him to be so. His father’s eyes became detached and glassy, like those of a bull. A great storm was coming our way. 

“Where in hell’s name have you been? I have been waiting all day for you to get back! Have you even done what I asked you to do?” the man roared with every detail of ferocity. He looked to Jake. “Answer me, boy. What’s wrong with you? Why won’t you look at me?” Then he turned to me. “Landley, talk!” 

I prepared for a descent far more frightening than the last, a twisting fall into the dark realm of deception and deceit. “Forgive me, sir. We did not manage to find any new fishing spots…” 

“Boy, you are not the least like your father. He knew how to get a job done!” 

“I’m afraid the job can wait.” At this I received a deathly glare. “Look at Jake. He’s not well. Not at all. Not for the whole day. I only noticed it later, but now that I look back…” I turned my head to my friend and held my worried stare for added dramatism. I then looked back. “Did you happen to notice anything odd with him?” 

“No, Cal, and he certainly doesn’t look unwell to me,” the man’s voice rolled from his tongue as thunder. 

“Well, he certainly is! He’s delirious and I mean it. Hell, he even packed the scuba gear because he thought it would help him find the… ‘little fishies,’ as he put it. I know him and I’ve done this job before; He knows to head straight to the gulls. Today, it’s like he’s been stripped of any sense. He almost fainted at noon, and that’s when I realised something was wrong. Now he’s a bit more rational, but he’s hardly talking. All emotional too…” I scratched my chin, clicked my tongue, and pondered up to the sky. “Could be a head injury.” I saw the man’s eyes let up; his face softened. “That’s something my therapists always considered for me…” 

Jake’s dad motioned to his house. “Get him in there. I know something that may help.” 

The docks were silent as I walked with Jake. Yet, then, in the corner of my eye, I saw a trio of men. They stood by their boat darkly. Only their faces were lit up by the slow burn of their cigarettes, and the smoke danced around them like a fog of ill intent. I saw that their arms were bare, and when they reached for their cigarettes, I saw a tattoo that they each shared – a black rose, blood dripping from creeping thorns. I felt myself startle. My angry penchant awoke, as if it were a primal defence mechanism, and I was left hot and breathless in this cool twilight.  

I brought my friend into his old home. I had not been in here since my parents passed, and it was but a shadow of the former abode I once knew. The walls were stained and the floors creaked, giving rise to dusty towers that stood tall in the flickering glare of faulty electrical light. His father took him into a side room and I soon followed. This room was beyond old and it held many wonders of the past. Colonial collectables were scattered around: old stump legs, centuries of rust ridden surgical tools, and a trio of wooden stretcher beds. Then on the far wall was a station, almost alchemical in appearance. Its shelves were heavy with years’ worth of medicine – each potion-like and bottled, plugged with cork. The man took his son and placed him on one of the beds. He looked at me first and then directed his gaze to the door… 

Whilst I waited, I called Nana on their landline. I told her that I would be late. The last thing I wanted was for her to be worried. She asked me if I wanted to be picked up. I told her that I would be fine.  

I eyed the door to the room, and I cautiously took the metal cylinder from my pocket and placed it on a busied office table. My fingernail traced the almost seamless line where the lid met the body. It was made like the Harlock’s anchor. Both had water-tight, stainless steel, screw lids. 

I deliberated. I gripped the lid; I undid it halfway, then stopped. 

I did not want to do this now. I would wait until my friends were with me. I would open this in my own safety – of my home, my cove, my boat. 

Yet then I was thrown into a sudden turmoil, and I was shown just how delicate my idea of safety was. 

An unforgiving crash came from the little room; it was followed by a loud and animalistic growl. “Where did you get that?” Jake’s father screamed.  

“It – It’s mine. You gave it to me!” A small whimper sounded. 

“NO… This is mine. I wore this for years before – before…” 

“I don’t understand…” 

I heard an almighty collision – an angry fist to the wall. It shook the very bones of the house. But nothing scared me more than the words that followed. “You went after the artefact, didn’t you? How did you know about it? How did you know where it was? I took it and buried it myself, and only one other man knew where… Landley!” he growled my name – my father’s name. It was a treacherous growl, one that seemed to indicate a certain fear. I heard his voice change. “Jake, listen to me! Please, son, listen. Tell me you haven’t looked upon that wretched thing.” 

I did not hear a reply come from Jake, but I knew that he had most certainly responded to his father. He would be coming for me now. 

So here I was. The canister was before me, and I was left with my fate firmly in my hands. I could look now and forever be damned with a knowledge most dangerous. Or I could let it go and never speak of this matter again. I could be free from this burden. 

Yet my mind was an unruly thing. It nagged at me; it begged. Finish what he started, it cried. If you do not do it for the riches, then at least do it for him. Then came the nerves, the excitement of the unknown, that morbid fascination that surrounds deathly things. 

Perhaps I was meant to do this. Perhaps it was fate. Destiny! 

After all, my parents’ death made me who I was today. Ever since then, I have had this creeping sensation that my own mortality was catching up to me. Here it was now!  

In my hands sat a gold ribbed and ivory bar. It held a ruby atop and was broken at its base. This curious charm gently curved outwards and then back in again, conforming perfectly to my hand’s grip, whilst its opulent ribs of gold found my fingers soundly. It was made to be held. It was almost as if it were a handle of some kind, and its shape spoke tales of the sea – age-old tales. This came from a ship’s wheel. The helm of an old naval machine. 

I turned it in my hands and saw that the opposing side had a message scrawled across both the ivory and gold. It was a hasty scratching. Vandalism at a glance. But this was far more than that. I could barely make out what it said, but I tried— 

 ‘The fruits of our labour rest below, in the locker’s heart aflame.’ 

‘To deprive them of their wealth, those that know true wealth not. 

‘The key to — l— re-t- -i-h -av- J…’ 

The final words could not be read. They were far more worn than the others, which themselves had led me to nothing but confusion. Yet now was not the time for analysis, but memory. This magnificent and enigmatic artefact would not be in my possession for much longer. I set my tongue to repeat these old words. Quietly, I whispered them. Quickly, like a chant.  

Then came the crash of the door. Jake’s father burst in; his face was a blood-red beneath his beard and scraggy hair. Yet he was not angry… He was terrified. His upper lip shook, and his eyes twitched under a pair of derailed eyebrows. “Where is the artefact?” he breathed heavily. “Have you looked upon it?” 

Under the table, my hands fondled the piece back into its container. I silently screwed the lid back on. “No,” I lied. “I was waiting for my friends.” 

The man stared at me with a stuck face. Then he loosened. “Good,” he whispered. “For none can come from that cursed thing!” 

“Why?” I asked. 

“Why?” he echoed and stepped towards me. His voice was a hushed tone. “Danger. It breeds danger. Many men have killed and died to have what you hold in your hands – a plague since Murdock’s time. It may point to gold, boy… but what it leads to is madness.” 

“Madness?” I asked again.  

“The same madness that took your father from you.” 

“What do you mean. My father was not…” 

“Son, your father was not a well man when he died, and when he did, his late sickness seeped into these islands like rotting leaves to mulch. I cannot let that happen again – not with you!” 

Suddenly, I was overwhelmed. “You know! You know what happened to my father. You know that he was shot, and my mother…”  

At this the man took on a deathly silence. His face turned grey, and he loomed above me. He held out his hand and I gave him the full canister. He looked down and swallowed slowly. “Leave this alone, Cal.” He stepped back. “Sometimes the truth is best left unspoken.” 

He returned with Jake and he sat both of us down, before checking each of the windows and the front door. He leant over a computer and it stuttered into life. The screen was divided into four boxes – the feed from the surveillance cameras. The bottom left camera was dysfunctional, showing only a grey and static mess. This blind spot sent nervous ripples through my stomach. Danger lay in wait. 

The man turned to us, and slumped into a creaky armchair. His face was half in the dark and half in lamplight. He leant in and pursed his lip. Words came slowly after that. “Ever since Jason Landley died, I have been a changed man. Once I was young and foolish. Now I am severe in my ways, but cautious.” He looked to his son. “Jake, you do not know how much I love you. Everything I have done since those days, since the Landley’s passing, since your mother left, has been to protect you.” I saw Jake start to retreat into himself again, but it was no longer out of fear. “I have to go now. I have to take this artefact where it can never be found.” 

“Why can’t you just destroy it? Don’t you have a forge here or something?” I asked in a low but careless voice. 

“Because… it belonged to Murdock’s ship. The Jackal of the Seas. Call it an ill omen, but the waters are my life-blood. Davy Jones would surely pull me to the grave, were I to profane his dead. And if the Meridian Constabulary were to ever find out, then they would drag their gallows out of storage and hang me at dawn. Be sure of it!” 

“The police know of the artefact?” I breathed. 

“They know everything, Cal!” The man almost laughed. “They don’t care for the gold, but they have other deviancy relating to this matter.” He started to tense up in his chair. His hand brushed his beard and there was a fearful contemplation in his eyes. “Wherever this artefact is, danger soon follows. I do not want to leave you two alone, but I must. It is the only way to treat this disease, and to divert those infected. You will not be seeing me for a while. I don’t know for how long; that depends on how many eyes have seen us – since you unearthed this cursed thing. In the meanwhile, lay low. By that I mean, don’t act any differently. Go to Meridian Town; buy some coffee; hang out with that girl you both like.” Jake and I looked at each other in surprise. I saw that his shock lay in the fact that his father even knew of Maya. “Stick together, and most importantly lose all interest in the artefact and the treasure. Danger comes to those who long for it – an even greater danger for those who find it.” 

The night ended with us waiting for Jake’s father to ready himself for his departure. We helped him gather provisions and tools to help him on his way. He handed Jake the keys to the house and the other fixtures surrounding the dock. He then gave us our orders, “Go back to Cal’s. His grandmother will look after you both.” 

“She always does,” I heard Jake mumble. 

“Telling her about this would be wise. But if we were wise men, then none of us would be in this mess, and your father, Cal, would still be here.” He pointed to the clock above the door. “If you hear no other boat leave after me, then wait until midnight; lock up and leave. Walk home! Leave the Harlock here and come for her by day. These ill men know the sea, but they don’t know these islands. With any luck this will all be a curious memory come morning.” 

And just like that, he was gone. We waited until midnight, because there was no second boat to sound. Then we crept outside and we locked the house. We walked to the dock’s entrance and then trekked along the thin dirt road, until we found a discreet track into the Paradise Woods, the gardens of Murdock.  

An entire swathe of land was inhabited by plants that the admiral had brought over. Pine was most plentiful, and over the many years, and due to the distraction, that became Meridian Island, the woods were forgotten and left to the unruly crown of the natural world. What were once orderly acres, were now wild and uncharted patches of unrestrained forest.  

There was no light in this far realm, and Jake and I held each other tight, lest we lose one another to the treacherous terrain. We staved away the fear of being watched with the fear of the forest instead, for surely none would dare follow us in here. Though terrifying, this was our patch. This was our island and we knew it best. Yet even so, the darkness had a way of twisting things, and we were soon in a devilish midnight dance. Although we did not take a single wrong turn, the trail led on forever, as if we were truly stuck in a nightmare.  

When we eventually escaped the Paradise Woods, we saw the main road. It was the only large road on the island and it looped around in a circuit and led to Meridian Island. We followed the road for a few hundred meters, and all but one car did we see, and we heard no sounds other than that and the territorial whispering of nightly birds, rival to one another.  

We found the road to my house. It was a long and dusty road, and at the end sat my old and lived in house. Its creamy grey paint was a warm and welcome sight, as was the figure on the front porch. Nana sat there, waiting for us. When she saw us, she waved and smiled; she pulled her blanket from her rocking chair and then went inside. 

As we passed through the doors, a welcoming warmth enveloped us like a magical charm, a powerful ward to cast away every harm. Then we heard the kettle boil, whistling and rocking at the counter.  

Jake and I sunk into the lounge. This day had been unlike any other, and I felt that we both needed the company of Maya to make things right again. We needed her to balance us out. I almost felt guilty that she had not been with us today. Jake felt the same. He could have used her care earlier. Yet who were we to wish that she must suffer alongside us?  

Nana met us with two cups of hot chocolate. We had smelt it long before she came, and its rich and decadent scent evoked a dreamy trance in the both of us. It was the ultimate taste of comfort and of home.  

She sat down opposite us; she took our hands. 

“Cal,” she said. “Jake,” she said.  

Our eyes averted from her gaze. We could hide no longer. She knew! 

“Put this to bed… Leave it where it lies… Do not end up like your fathers did…” 

That was it. She went away, and we were left with her few words that seemed to echo about the room, every now and then, all night long. A few words they were, but what a shame-letting they had caused  

Our lies died with her then and there, and as they fell apart, we felt the vacuum of havoc that they left behind. We felt the utter confusion that was left after our strange wade into these most murky waters. We had wanted. We had wanted greatly. This was our warning. A final warning. And in between the silty clouds, we saw a chance – our chance for redemption.  

As Jake and I found the night, I knew that were we to dream, shame would be their haunt. The shame and fear of our misdeeds would hound us silently. Yet tomorrow’s offering was a generous one; it offered us freedom from this burden most heavy.  

It was then that I found bliss in the life I had. In my family, of Jake and Maya and Nana. Bliss in the cove, our refuge. In the waves that we would surf, glorious mirrors to my past. One final summer. One last year of school. Then we could have it all. For the rest of our lives. 

Not all was perfect on these islands, but even the flaws, I had taken for granted. Carson was a curse, but I had just seen one far greater. It killed my parents. It robbed Jake of his. Even the conflict between the Meridian Constabulary and the Tawa were just faint echoes if you chose not to listen. 

I realised then that the Murdock Isles offered paradise only to the ignorant – those that chose to hear but not to listen. Yet what was ignorance if it let me retain my innocence – this perfect life?  

I would be a fool to pry further. I would be wise to just let go, forget, and return to oblivion. 

And that was the true paradisaical paradox of the Murdock Isles.