A Nick & Carter Holiday #6
Wednesday, March 1, 1848
It's the dark and early morning hours of St. David's Day and Griffith Williams, nestled and cozy next to his dear friend, Gwyn, is abruptly awakened by a man who calls out in a strange voice.
"Great-grandfather?"
Griffy is startled to see the shimmering form of a handsome man with bright and shining eyes. And they're a color of brown he's not seen before.
The face, however, is more than a little familiar. With a dimple in the chin, it brings to mind memories of his late father, his tad, David.
Is it evil or is it good which has brought forth this ghostly vision?
Beyond the veil and away from the rivers of time, Paul Williams is organizing a small party.
A luncheon, if you will.
He has summoned Nicholas, his great-nephew, and Janet, his great-niece, and has asked their beloveds to join in the festivities.
The main course of their other-worldly meal will be a plain but sumptuous cawl cennin, a leek and potato soup, the perfect dish for a Welsh holiday.
And the guest of honor?
His very own father, Griffith Williams.
Paul has a message and the time, as it were, has come for him to deliver it.
On St. David's Day, no less.
This is a short story, set mostly outside of time, and containing about 5,100 words.
Again, having not read any of Nick and Carter's journey previously, I felt like there might be a question or two that went unanswered for me but they were "holes" that didn't effect this short story. I was never lost. Truth is, St. David's Day, 1848 is outside the era parameters in the series descriptions done in a way that is both dream and fantasy.
I won't say too much for those who like me have yet to discover Frank W Butterfield's Nick and Carter saga but I will say, I loved the uniqueness of St. David's Day, 1848. The blending of dream, fantasy, historical, and family really worked here and has furthered my hunger to one day read Nick and Carter from the beginning. Short, sweet, and highly entertaining.
RATING:
Along the River Taff
Rhydyfelin, Wales
Wednesday, March 1, 1848
Early morning
Nick walked aboard the boat tied up alongside the rickety dock and, ducking his head, made his way through the door and inside the cabin. He knew it was chilly inside. However, in the small kitchen on the forward end of the boat, he could see a bit of light coming from the stove. He figured there was some coal inside, doing its best to keep the place warm.
In the dark, the interior looked older than he remembered from when he'd visited in his dreams. There was more junk, for one thing, and he had the sense that a kind of dank smell permeated the place.
That made him think of Carter which, for whatever reason, seemed to light up the room for a brief moment.
Smiling to himself, Nick turned and went into the aft part of the boat and found a narrow bed there, pushed to one side. It was covered with a thick pile of wool blankets, none of which were very clean.
Under the heavy covers, he saw the blond head of the man he knew to be Gwyn Owen, his great-grandfather's close friend and lover. Gwyn was snoring, his head bent back a little and his thin nose pointing straight up. A little ball of spit was resting in the corner of the man's mouth.
Just tucked under his chin was the dark and tousled head of Griffith Williams, Nick's great-grandfather.
Neither man was clean, to say the least, and Nick knew the room smelled to high heaven. He was glad Carter hadn't come with him. If he had, his ethereal nose would have been twitching in disgust. Thinking of Carter made the room light up, again.
Gwyn frowned in his sleep and turned on his side.
Griffy (that was the nickname Gwyn had used when Nick had met them in his dreams) shifted as well. Doing so made the covers slip off his face. Reaching up from under, he used a grimy finger to scratch his nose.
"Great-grandfather?"
Griffy sighed to himself but didn't open his eyes.
"Great-grandfather?"
Taking a deep breath and then coughing, Griffy shifted in the bed again. That movement made Gwyn mutter to himself. Nick had no idea what the man was saying. He couldn't tell if it was Welsh or just the sounds that a deep sleeper made when he was disturbed.
"Griffy?" asked Nick.
"What be?" muttered his great-grandfather, his eyes still closed.
"Wake up."
Finally, the man's eyes opened. He took one look at the Nick's ghostly form standing by his bed and frowned.
Nick Williams Mystery Series
In 1953, the richest homosexual in San Francisco is a private investigator.
Nick Williams lives in a modest bungalow with his fireman husband, a sweet fellow from Georgia by the name of Carter Jones.
Nick's gem of a secretary, Marnie Wilson, is worried that Nick isn't working enough. She knits a lot.
Jeffrey Klein, Esquire, is Nick's friend and lawyer. He represents the guys and gals who get caught in police raids in the Tenderloin.
Lt. Mike Robertson is Nick's first love and best friend. He's a good guy who's one hell of a cop.
The Unexpected Heiress is where their stories begin. Read along and fall in love with the City where cable cars climb halfway to the stars.
Long before the Summer of Love, pride parades down Market Street, and the fight for marriage equality, San Francisco was all about the Red Scare, F.B.I. investigations, yellow journalism run amok, and the ladies who play mahjong over tea.
Saturday Series Spotlights
Nick & Carter Holiday Series
Welcome to a year of holidays with Nick Williams and Carter Jones!
This is a series of short stories with each centered around a specific holiday.
From New Year's Day to Boxing Day, each story stands on its own and might occur in any year from the early 1920s to the first decade of the 21st Century.
Saturday Series Spotlights
Author Bio:
Frank W. Butterfield is the Amazon best-selling author of 89 (and counting) self-published novels, novellas, and short stories. Born and raised in Lubbock, Texas, he has traveled all over the US and Canada and now makes his home in Daytona Beach, Florida. His first attempt at writing at the age of nine with a ball-point pen and a notepad was a failure. Forty years later, he tried again and hasn't stopped since.
St. David's Day, 1848 #6
Series
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