Milford, Delaware (Photo: Ray Hennessy on Unsplash)
“He comes to visit,” a man’s voice jarred her out of her reverie.
She’s been watching a waterfowl in the sparkling water. It’s been staring back, she felt.
“The bird?” she turned. The speaker was a frail-looking man who still managed a bearing that stated “military.”
“If it is that.”
She glanced at the crane. The oldster sounded neither confused nor joking.
“Tell me,” she rose to make room on the bench.
The man extended a hand to shake. “Smith. US Navy.”
“Marcia,” she returned.
They used to build ships in Milford, he told her. Built the four-masted Albert F. Paul, too. Launched it from the Abbot shipyard in 1917.
“174 footer, she was,” Smith sighed. “I would’ve been onboard, you see, if I hadn’t been injured. Would’ve gone down with my mates when the Germans torpedoed her in 1942.”
“The fallen seamen,” he lifted his chin toward the bird, “they visit me.”
Na'ama Yehuda 
Chilling last line. I’d believe him, too.
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Thank you, J. I believe him, too.
I have a friend whose father would have silent conversations with a chipmunk by their cabin. It couldn’t have been the same chipmunk over decades … but they all ‘behaved’ the same. My friend’s father was not prone to foolishness or magical beliefs but the chipmunks were indeed uncannily unafraid. It got to where when one “showed up,” my friend would go get his dad with a “Chip’s here for you again.”
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Absolutely loved this story Na’ama. Had no idea where it was going until the ending. Superb
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Yay, Tina! So glad you liked it.
I believe we do some of us get ‘visits’ from those whose physical form is no longer bound to the one we are in. And if it brings comfort, all the more. …
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A chilling tale. And interesting that the dead come back as birds. To my knowledge, that’s a Celtic belief. 🙂
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It is a true fact, about the 4-Masted “Paul” and the German torpedo.
As for the birds … I don’t think I knew that but I’m thinking I might’ve someplace known that. I’ve been told more than once that I likely carry some Celtic spirit-bits from past-lives. Who knows, but it sure feels like it fits. More than any other culture, it does and always had called to my soul.
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In the Celtic culture, the heron, crane and stork all share a name, and a function. Though that function is probably shared by many other cultures. It’s the psychopomp, the carrier of the soul to the Otherworld of the Dead… generally envisaged as being someplace north (perhaps the Pole Star). The Nordics however commandeered the swan for a similar role.. BTW, the valkyries were seen as swans. It all links together.
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Ah, that makes total sense, then, doesn’t it?
🙂
Thank you for adding this fantastic insight to the way this story was told by more than me!
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🙂
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🙂
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Your ‘ghost story’ is very gentle. Somehow, the image of Marcia and the old seaman is tranquil and perfectly believable. Nice, original take on the prompt.
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Thank you, Penny! I meant for it to be gentle and non-scary and more than a little tender. I’m glad it came through. 🙂
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Such a touching story. I can feel the man’s survivor guilt and sadness, but also the sweetness of the coping mechanism, how he finds peace in seeing his friends and compatriots in the beautiful birds who visit. Wouldn’t we all like to have another chance to interact with the spirits of those who have passed on?
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Thank you, Joy! Yes, you got it completely!
And … I think sometimes some of us do think we see those who passed, whether in our hearts or in our surroundings, through ‘visitors’ of all kinds.
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Great story. Like many coastal cities, Glasgow where I live used to be central to the shipbuilding world and now has very little left, leaving many communities decimated. The old guy felt like a very familiar character to me.
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🙂 I’m glad he did, Iain. I think there are still a few who remember the shipbuilding times of old. And who can still tell us about it.
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