[Gift] Sins Of A Sailor

Morgan had a lot to get off his chest.

He had kept hidden for many years - so many years. Secrets that he’d pushed to the back of his mind in hopes that they’d never see the light of day again.

“You’ve got a face on you,” Dan told him simply as he cleaned off a piece of equipment. “You’re also getting sauce everywhere.”

Morgan blinked a few times and looked at Dan before glancing at the half-eaten dango in his hand, the raspberry sauce slowly dripping onto his lap, staining his billowy trousers.

“Ah for demon's sake,” he hissed and put the dango onto the small paper plate and grabbed some napkins, furiously wiping away the sticky substance that had slathered itself over his clothes.

“You alright Morgan?” Dan asked him, and the ‘pirate’ glanced over at him and nodded.

“Yea, of course, why wouldn’t I be?” he asked him and finished off the dango. “Don’t worry, Dan, I’m fine, I always am.”

Dan watched as Morgan put his rubbish in the bin and left the dango shop. Something was up, but Dan wasn’t quite sure what it was. He liked Morgan. He was always chatty, paid his bill, and he told some of the greatest stories. But today, something was amiss with the other. 

Morgan made his way through the city, his mind elsewhere as he thought about the life he’d led so far. 

Treasure had always been a plague on his mind. 

He’d wanted riches, jewels, precious stones and anything the world had to offer his thieving little hands. 

He glanced around once he’d stopped, staring up into a tree where a small imp sat, squawking gently. 

“I used to be like you, free, wild…I did a lot of bad things, but now my life is different, I’m different. I own a restaurant and I earn my living honestly,” Morgan said to the imp but watched as it simply squawked and flew away. 

“Hmmm,” he growled and continued his walk. Ending up strolling through the park where he spotted his good friend, Django. He was leaning up against the railing, a piece of straw hanging between his lips.

“Howdy Morgan,” Django greeted as the other walked up. “Why so glum, you look like you’ve got the sins of the devil on your back.”

Morgan liked the way Django talked. It was straight out of a western movie.

“Hey, yea I’m fun, just got some stuff on my mind is all,” Morgan replied and took to leaning against the railing too.

“Well why don’t you go talk to somebody, I hear that priest in the church of sulfur is a mighty fine listener,” Django told him, his lips rolling the piece of straw around. From the left and then to the right. Where did he even get the straw?

“Huh, the church, I’m not really the religious type…but suppose you’re right,” Morgan admitted. “I’ll go see if it’ll help.”

With that, the blue-haired pirate headed off to the church. He’d already been here this week. He’d had words with Mercy. She’d been convinced that religion was much more important than the sea.

When he entered, his hooves echoed with each step. The large, empty and intimidating house of demons was eerie to behold. He looked around, briefly reading the signs of the devils as he took in the horrifyingly demonic depictions on each canvas. 

His eyes caught an arm, peering out of the confessional. It beckoned him over. So he followed. Slipping off his hat and climbing into the other side of the box. 

“Forgive me father, for I have errr…sinned?” Morgan said though it didn’t feel right. 

“Well, sins are an issue, aren’t they, but not all sins are bad, what were your sins, my son?” Oleander replied, his eyes looking at Morgan through the mesh in between them. 

“I, well, I lied father,” he told him. 

“Lied, oh I see,” replied the priest and Morgan kept going.

“I’ve been lying, all this time, I was a pirate, sure, I stole, thieved, but I…father…” Morgan said softly. 

“Yes?”

“I’ve never been to sea!”

“What…”

“The sea father, I’ve never even been on a boat, I’m terrified of the water, of sailing, but I can’t let anybody know, that’s my whole thing!”

“Right…and…uhhh why are you confessing now?”

“A friend of mine wants me to teach him how to sail, and I’ve never even set foot on a sea-worthy vessel,” Morgan half shouted.

“Oh,” replied the semi-shocked priest. 

“What should I do?”

“You should…ummm…well, I forgive you in the name of the demons for your sins…and now, child, you should go and let your friend know the truth, and then you will feel much better,” Oleander told him with a nod. 

“I see, okay, thank you father, I will do just that then,” Morgan replied, though he wasn’t sure if he was serious. He stood, fixed his hat to his head and left the confessional with a new goal in mind. 

“Don’t forget to leave a donation!” Oleander called as Morgan exited. The sinful sailor nodded before dropping a few carats into the tithe. 

He felt better now. Better that somebody knew of his secret, his sins. 

But he didn’t want to admit it to anybody else. So he’d devise a plan! A plan to learn how to sail and learn how to get over his ironic fear of the open water.