Chapter Five
One afternoon everything changed.
Mother Curry and I had just come in the front door of that sordid tavern, heading for the solitude of our room, when a tall, heavily bearded sailor in the corner chanced to glance in our direction. He stopped, his gaze fixed upon us, his head c****d as if considering some matter. He murmured something to his companions, then, to my surprise, he purposefully caught Mother Curry’s eye.
Pursing her lips, she broke stride. With a reassuring pat on my hip, she motioned me to wait for her, then she went over to the man’s table.
He was a rough-looking fellow with a gigantic bristling red mustachio and beard which obscured the lower part of his face. Flaming red hair flowed out from beneath his battered hat, down the back of his tattered green gre
