Hannah the Hellion
Nantucket - 1830
Hannah had a blind spot somewhere in her eye.
To her, the world was always in eclipse
but in the sunshine, she was a starlet
an alluring Lorelie
with whom the sailors must come to grips.
She waited the tables at Ned’s seaside tavern
where she sang sweet nothings to sailors
and played her evil guitar
until she could lure them with passion
and sell them off to the whalers.
Sometimes, they returned
but mostly to thank her
for they’d been well served by the whaling life.
Once in a while, like a lover spurned
one would try to assault her
only to die by the blade of her knife.
Bill Lay entered Ned’s bar
and found a corner table.
Set down his seaman’s chest, as Hannah noticed him.
She stared at him from afar.
Thought he looked unlike the other rabble
for he was handsome with light golden skin.
She moved to ask him, ‘What he desired?”
He looked at her with hungry eyes.
A tankard of ale was his one request.
On return she brought two, and inquired
might she sit with him, much to his surprise.
He motioned her to sit, keeping his feelings suppressed.
Smiling, she sat down and asked him where he called home.
He said he was a native of the Sandwich Isles.
She knew of them and asked, “Are you a whaler then?”
“No more. I’ve quit the sea. I no longer wish to roam.
If I can make a start here, I may stay awhile.\"
” Yeah, but men like you have a hard time blending in.”
They talked for a long time over a tankard or two.
He said he had to go see about a place to stay.
She gingerly mentioned the Kanaka Boarding House.
“No, I’ve got a plan for something more well-to-do.
Might I leave my sea chest in your hands while I’m away.
I trust you more than all the others in this madhouse.”
He stored his chest in the back and left through the rear door.
Hannah was left pondering this strange and trusting gent.
Leaving Ned’s, she checked that the chest was safe and sound.
Hannah walked the same pathway she had every night before.
But soon, she was facing three men with vengeful intent.
She reached for her knife as they began to move around.
She was afraid, but ready and willing to kill.
They moved about, choosing their paths of attack.
She kept her distance as was necessary.
Suddenly, everything stopped and went still.
Hannah heard rushing footsteps at her back.
She wheeled and slit the throat of the fourth adversary.
The other three men ran, but Hannah was left distraught.
On the ground, dying before her, was Bill Lay.
With his near-last breath she heard him say, \". . . Love. . . Keep. . . chest.\"
Trying to stop his bleeding was for naught.
She held him ‘til he faded away.
Then, went to the sheriff and confessed.
The following day, after her release
they buried Bill Lay in a pauper’s grave
with Hannah as the only attendee.
A few words were spoken about being at peace
but Hannah\'s nightmare kept recurring in waves.
It felt as though she would never be free.
After months of sorrow, she resolved to open the chest.
She had to use a hammer and chisel to break into it.
Inside she found a sailor\'s garb and beneath that, another chest.
She opened its lid and saw the gold and silver coins it possessed
along with a deed to a house and land, somewhere on Nantucket.