Moonlight and Whisky
and Reflections on the Water

(continued)

By Malcolm Laughton

"Aye," says Hughie, with seething contempt, "and no one ever saw this mermaid except Angus. What evidence is that?"

"Ach," said Charlie with a knowing air, "but that is but half the story. It happens one day, a month or two later, that Angus puts out to sea himself again; and he is out to sea a long time in fair weather; and no sight of him nor boat. So others put out to sea to look for him but find nothing. And on returning to shore there is his oarless and sailless boat bobbing on the surf. And there is no man in it. And neither had he returned to his house. And never was he seen on land at all, any day after. And word went about that the mermaid had not, from gratitude for his returning her to the sea, blessed him with the promise that he would never drown, but rather, from spite and vengeance for her captivity, cursed him that he would drown.

"And so his guessed-at fate was talk of the village and beyond for many a day, and all pledged they would never set out on the sea on a Sabbath day. But, as it is with things, after awhile folk forgot Angus's fate. There were fish to be got in and livelihoods to be followed and bairns to be fed. And one long fine summer day, Alec and Sandy were out fishing late on the Saturday while others were here in this very house drinking. And it was barely dark at all in the late summer night, and the sky so very clear. And the fishing was so good, and the weather held so kind that they stayed out near midnight. And it was with a fright they realized it was near the Sabbath, and they both then remembered the fate of Angus; and they were about to set home when — on that very moment — a silver flash went in the waters before them. And they were both afraid to look in the water, but were drawn to do so anyway. And what did they see looking back up at them? But the bonny face of a mermaid. The two men stared awhile, and it seemed her face was so near the surface either might reach down and steal a kiss, but a moment or two later another figure rose up from the deep, and it had the form of a merman, and he touched the maid and she withdrew below, but he rose a little to look at the men before diving away. And he had the face of Angus Ross.

"Now tell me that is not your evidence!"

Hughie was enraged again. "Can ye not see, that not only might Alec and Sandy have made the whole thing up, but by their own account, Summer though it be, it was about midnight — they may have seen their own daft reflections! And I never knew those two to be but drinkers on a Saturday."

"It was a moonlit night as well, much as tonight."

"Aye, now we have it, moonlight and whisky and reflections on the water. Some of who have served in the King's navy in the Great War and outfaced German dreadnoughts. Would that the Hun but guessed that he faced such sailors, that trembled at the thought of mermaids and fairies. And what other tall tales have ye got?"

"There's old Wullie that went missing one night, not a hundred yards from here, when he went drunk under the moon to stand in a fairy circle."

"And who actually saw this wonder?"

There was silence in The Old Black Bull.

"Aye, no one saw it; I dare say if we looked, we'd find his old drunken bones face down in a ditch." The silence continued, and as it did, a mischievous idea came into the mind of Hughie. "I can prove scientifically that there is not a shred of evidence that fairy circles are anything but a natural phen...om...omnumm...thingammie. Pour me two big whiskies!" The publican complied, and Hughie downed them both, swayed and asked, "Am I drunk yet?" All in the pub agreed, so he added, "I propose an experiment. I'm going out to stand in the fairy circle — and you can all watch — then I'm coming back here, without disappearing! Right. I'm off."

Many was the man that tried to stop him, but he persisted and pulled so much that they, none too sober themselves, fain had to let him leave.

He swerved as he went out into the night. It was cooler than the pub. The night was darker than he had reckoned but a big moon shone bright. He strode as straight as he could manage toward where he remembered the circle. As he walked, his eyes became adjusted and the landscape grew clearer. Aye, he was sure the circle lay ahead. But as he walked, he became a wee bit less brave. There was something eerie about moonlight. Things looked different, not quite of this world. The usually familiar trees ahead of him seemed different somehow. They loomed. Darkly. For goodness sake, man, they were just trees! He noted to himself that he usually walked home by himself anyway at night. Still, the dark quietness was lonely. Yet at the same time, he sensed being watched. He stopped and looked back. No one had followed him out. The Old Black Bull appeared distant, a dark house, half-silhouetted. Only the windows were bright, and in those windows he could see figures bobbing to and fro as if each taking furtive looks at him from its safety. He felt confident again, and his eyes had continued to adjust. He reckoned he must be close to that circle of slightly longer greener grass that sometimes glistened, bejeweled in the morning dew. He happened to look down. He was standing in its very centre this instant. He laughed loudly. So far he hadn't been transported. There stood, in solid stone, The Old Black Bull before him. Wherein, at a distance, its foolish inhabitants gawped and stared. A moment's drunken haze passed over him. It cleared. Nothing had changed except no one now looked out the windows. All back at the bar, he supposed. Well, he wasn't finished, if they could no longer see him, they would most certainly hear him.

"Fairies, fairies, come out come out wherever ye are. FAIRIES, FAIRIES, COME OUT COME OUT WHEREVER YE ARE. FAIRIES, FAIRIES, FAIRIES, WHERE ARE YE, FAIRIES...aye but this is tiring. Come on ye wee folk. Where are ye hiding? Hobgoblins, sprites, boggles all, where are ye, Hughie wants to see ye! One last time then. FAIRIES, FAIRIES... Ach, sod it. I'm finished with this."

Hughie looked about him; definitely no Wee Folk about. He set off back in the direction of the pub. His eyes had definitely adjusted now; for nighttime, things were very bright. The moon still shone on the same houses, and The Old Black Bull still stood in the same place. He noticed that now the moon seemed even bigger, as if it had drawn closer, and indeed its light gave reality a strange aspect. To tell the truth, the moon was huge and seemed to follow him as he walked back to the pub. He walked through the door. It wasn't The Old Black Bull. It was similar, but it wasn't the same. And the pub was full of people who were strangers to him; indeed some of them were very strange — nearly, but not quite human.