The Silver Hairpin

Stories for Another Day

Once there was a young fisherman named Ross who, like his father and grandfather before him, lived in a cottage by the sea and made his living by fishing.

One day he was walking along the shore when he met a young girl as sweet as she was beautiful. They spent the day together, climbing over the rocks and gazing into rockpools and walking side by side along the sand. By the end of the day they were deeply in love, and by the end of the month they were married.

In a little while they had a little boy whom they called Sellie, who loved the sea as much as his parents did. While other children cried at the slap of cold seawater on their feet when their parents took them down to the shore, Sellie laughed and splashed happily in the waves.

One day Ross came back from his night’s fishing and the neighbours greeted him with dreadful news. “Your wife was gathering shellfish on the edge of the rocks and a huge wave came out of nowhere and swept her away.”

Ross was wild with grief. He spent weeks combing the shore and the rocks for any sign of her, but he found nothing, not even the smallest trace. Eventually the neighbours said to him, “You are neglecting your own child while you waste time on this pointless search. Your wife is gone for good. Now look after your son. He is all you have left.”

Ross could no longer bear the sight of the sea nor the sound of the waves, so he left the house to be blown to pieces by the sea winds, and he moved to the city with Sellie. He learned carpentry and woodwork from a master carpenter, and after a long struggle, he was able to make a good living from his work.

But Sellie pined for the sea. He was pale and listless, and then he gradually became really ill. The doctors told Ross, “The only thing that will save your son is sea air. Take him to live by the coast, where the sea and the sun will bring him back to good health.”

Ross had no choice but to move back to his cottage by the sea. He nailed all the walls back together and fixed the windows that had been blown out by the sea winds and repaired the roof. Sellie grew well again, with pink rosy cheeks, but Ross turned his back on the sea and refused to go near it. He built himself a workshop at the back of the house, out of sight and sound of the sea, and spent all his time there. He made furniture and toys for sale, but the best things he made were out of driftwood that friends and neighbours collected from the sea shore and brought to him.

One night a wild storm came up. The waves crashed against the shore and dragged the sand away, and the wind howled among the rocks. When a gentle knock came at the door, Ross hardly heard it. He opened the door to find a young woman standing there, wet to the skin. Her clothes and her hair were dripping with water. Caught in her hair, Ross could could see a fine silver hairpin in the shape of a shell.

“Will you let me in?” she asked.

“Who are you, and why are you out on a night like this?” Ross asked.

“I am your wife’s sister, Sheera,” she said.

Ross could see that she was very like his dead wife, so he let her come in to dry herself by the fire. “We have not seen my sister for a long time,” the woman said, the hairpin glinting as it caught the fire light.

“The sea took her,” Ross answered roughly.

The woman’s face filled with sadness. “And the child?” she asked.

“My son stays with me,” he answered.

Sheera looked around the room. “I can see you have put the latch high up on the door,” she said, “high enough to be out of a child’s reach?”

“Sellie is not allowed to leave the house or go down to the sea without me at his side,” Ross said.

Sheera nodded slowly. “Are you afraid for him? Can’t he swim?” she asked.

“He could swim before he could walk,” Ross answered shortly. “For your sister’s sake, you may stay as long as you need to.”

He gave her a bed in a room at the back of the house, next to Sellie’s. Before long, she and Sellie were inseparable, laughing and playing all day long. Occasionally Sheera took him for long walks in the hills behind the bay, where she bought skeins of wool from the farmers’ wives, to dye in a huge pot in the kitchen. She used seaweed and crushed shells, and dyed the wool all the golden colours of the sand, and got a good price for it. But she was never allowed to take Sellie down to the sea, unless Ross was with them.

One sunny afternoon the sea was shining and as flat as a pan of milk. Sheera was humming in the kitchen, lifting her skeins of wool out of the dye-pot to test their colours, when Ross came in from his workshop.

“Where’s Sellie?” he asked.

Sheera went pale. “I thought he was with you!” she said.

They both hurried to the door. While they had both been busy, Sellie had dragged a chair up to it, and unlatched it. It swung open on its hinges.

They rushed down to the shore, shouting for Sellie. He was toddling happily along the edge of the sea where the waves hushed back and forth, tumbling the shells. Then as they watched in horror, a huge wave came from nowhere and snatched the little boy, sweeping him out to sea.

With a great cry, Ross threw himself into the sea after his son. He swam desperately towards the golden head which he could see disappearing under the waves. He took a deep breath and dived. His fingers touched the little boy’s hand and he seized it and pulled with all his might, pulling Sellie into his arms. The sea that moments before had been as quiet as a summer meadow, roared and boiled around them, tossing them about like bundles of seaweed and pounding them into the sand.

Ross managed to lift his head out of the raging water for a moment and yelled, “Help me!” but Sheera ignored him. She ran to the rocks and clambered up to the very highest point. As more waves came crashing down on Ross’s head, he saw her take the silver hairpin out of her hair. In her hand it grew longer and thicker, and became a silver-tipped harpoon.

With all her strength, Sheer threw it into the waves. The sea itself leapt as if to drag her into its clutches as well, but then it fell away and lay flat, as calm as it had been before.

Holding Sellie against himself as if he would never let him go again, Ross swam easily to shore. As he stepped out onto the sand, he looked back over his shoulder. The silver harpoon was floating out to sea, trailing a line of blood from its tip. Then it sank below the surface.

Ross and Sheera were married, with Sellie laughing beside them, and for a wedding gift he gave her a hairpin that he had carved from a piece of driftwood, in the shape of a shell. And no two people were ever happier.