Rafferty's

They tore down Rafferty's yesterday.  

The only actual tavern the island had ever known was cleared out, its fixtures sold for scrap, it's lumber hauled away.   It had taken a week to break things down - two days alone for the auction - and we'd watched sadly as the tables and chairs were carried out, the glassware packed in styrofoam, the kegs dismantled.  Some things found new homes - the jukebox, the first most of us had even seen, was sold to a nightclub in Halifax - and it turned out that the current doctor had a passion for billiards.  Rafferty's pride and joy pool table and all its accessories took up a new residence in his front waiting room.  There was no leftover inventory and by dusk on the last day all that was left was the remnants of the foundation, still flaky with sawdust, and a ruined old chimney.  We gathered around in a tight circle to watch the last dump trucks caravan down the narrow dirt road from the cove, just in time for the last ferry.  Uncle Willie surreptitiously picked up a half dozen sooty bricks and slipped them behind the seat of his pickup.

Reckon somebody oughta have somethin' to remember the ol' place by, he told Shad, Ain't likely we'll be gettin' another bar.  Mebbe somebody oughta say some words.

Sweet Jaysus, Willie, Shad said good naturedly, If you ain't seven kinds of a fool!  Place weren't nuthin' but somewheres to git drunk and start a fight!  

And you hadda pay for the priv'lidge, John Sullivan added with a crooked grin.

Mebbe, Willie shrugged, but I's sorry as sin to see it go.  Reckon we had us some high ol' Saturday nights here when ol' Rafferty was startin' out.

'Member that bartendin' gal he brung in from St. John?  Jacob Sullivan asked and laughed out loud. 

Uncle Shad smiled in spite of himself, kicked absently at a clod of dirt with one dusty boot.  Ayuh, he allowed thoughtfully, Woman was uglier'n a mud fence but I reckon she had a good heart.

Ayuh, Willie nodded, Heard tell she hitched up with a travelin' salesman fella outta the States that last summer after she and Rafferty split up.

Like hell, Jacob corrected him, She run off with a bootlegger from The Valley.

That was the second gal, his brother John said, The one with one eye, name o' Mildred or somesuch.

Called her Millie or Billie, mebbe, Shad frowned, I disremember but I shore recall that black eye patch and Jaysus on a cross, she could cuss like a sailor.

Like a sailor, the others agreed.

The men shuffled toward the patch of dead grass that had served as a parking lot, climbed into their trucks and coaxed the engines to life.  One after another they chugged down the dirt road in a steady cloud of dust, leaving the remnants of Rafferty's behind.  We watched from the treeline, waiting until the dust settled, then followed.  It was full dark by the time we reached The Point and supper was waiting.

Somewhere far from the island, I wondered, were Rafferty and two gals - one as ugly as a mud fence and one in a black eye patch - watching and feeling as sad as I was.