Where Did Murphy Go?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
Murphy comes in the pub with a Gold Sand-dollar and wants to buy stuff. Why, and where did he get such an object?

Submitted: February 01, 2017

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Submitted: February 01, 2017



"A Sand-dollar, --- you want to pay me with a Sand-dollar?" asked Cyrus McDurk, the Barkeeper at O'Hannahan's Pub and Hardware store.

On a warm day, or any other day for that matter, it is always a pleasure being able to have a Pint of Ale while deciding which hammer a man should purchase, or which nail works best for which job.

Those questions are always open to debate because there are always a few knowledgeable and thirsty souls at the pub to offer their opinions.

In fact, just last week a debate nails lasted from the lunch hour well into the evening; it was never resolved because most of the participants got drunk, or lost interest in what they were discussing.

However, there were two men that did not forget, Harry Glenn and Todd MacAlister. They left the pub about ten pm, --- one with a bloody nose and the other with a Shiner on his right eye; Harry always was a sucker for a left cross.

None the less, Murphy Brown came in the pub that night, about that same hour, wanting to buy a shovel and some small lockable tool boxes.

Murphy didn't have any real money, which isn't anything unusual, because he is always broke. But this time was different, this time he wanted to pay for the spade and two small toolboxes with a Sand-dollar.

Cyrus almost fell over laughing, then he said, "Murphy, are you daft? I can get all the sand-dollars I want for free. Why in Sam-Hill would I take a Sand-dollar for currency? They are fun to look at, but they ain't worth spit!"

Murphy looked Cyrus in the one good eye that he had left and replied, "This one is worth more money than you'll ever see, and it’s gold, solid gold!" Then Murphy slammed the Sand-dollar down on the bar.

"Oh my, sweet Mother of Jesus!" Cyrus exclaimed, "Where in the world did you get that?"

"I ain't say'n!" Murphy gruffly replied. 

Then he continued, "All I want you to do is hold this one Sand-dollar (On Account), as collateral, so to speak.

Me and this spade, and those small toolboxes over there, have unfinished business. And when I finish that business then I'll need some pocket money, a sturdy roll-around suitcase, and train fare to Gilligan Township. I hear that there is a big jewelry store there that buys gold for cash money.

So, Cyrus, here is what I want you to do. Get on the phone and tell O'Hannahan that I'll pay 10% interest on every dollar he will lends me, per week, and I'll give him all his money back as soon as I return from that Jewelry store.

In the meantime, he can hold this gold Sand-dollar until the debt is paid."


Cyrus McDurk was on the phone, Lick-ah-de-split, and it wasn't ten minutes later when Big-Mike O'Hannahan walked through the door.

"Let me see that Sand-dollar," Big-Mike said with a growl in his voice.

Murphy slapped it down on the bar in front of him, (Thud!).

First, O'Hannahan bit on the edge of the Dollar, then he took out his special edition, Swiss-army pocket knife and scrapped the surface with the blade. Lastly, he removed a little glass bottle from his coat pocket, it had a eye-dropper attached to the lid; Big-Mike put a drop of the clear liquid on the sand-dollar.

"It's gold all-right," O'Hannahan remarked.

Big-Mike gave Murphy the shovel and the toolboxes, then bought him an Ale.

They set the terms of the deal just as Murphy had offered, but there was one exception, Big-Mike set a five day limit on Murphy's return. If Murphy didn't return to the pub in five days, for whatever reason, Big-Mike would become owner of the Sand-dollar that he was holding as collateral.

Murphy had no problem with that stipulation; after all, he expected to return on the morrow.

Well the deal was set and the two men shook hands in front of those in the pub; four witnesses to this deal, counting the Barkeeper.

Murphy Brown finished his pint of Ale and then he hi-tailed it out of the pub, disappearing into the night.



Three days had passed and there was no sign of Murphy. A few of his friends were concerned because, deal or no-deal, Murphy never let a day pass without having a Pint of Ale at the pub.

On the fourth morning, right after a pub breakfast and two pints, three of his friends decided to search for him. But before they even got out the door, David Kennedy came in with a frightful tale. And this is what he said right after he received his Pint:

"I was shore fishing out near the dunes when I saw it sticking out of the sand. It was Murphy's new shovel!

So being the curious but respectful soul that I am, I consciously climbed that dune. On the way up I could have sworn that I saw someone peaking over the edge of the dune. But when I got to the top, do you know what I found?"

"No! --- What?" Everyone quickly replied.

"A big hole in the sand and a pot the size of a spittoon at the bottom of that hole," David said, his eyes wide with excitement.

Cyrus bellowed, "Was there gold in that pot David, was there more sand-dollars?"

"Not one in the pot my friends, but there was one under it!" David Kennedy said with a laugh. Then Kennedy slapped his hand on the bar and when he lifted his hand, there was a golden Sand-dollar.

"What about Murphy?" Larry McMasters asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

Kennedy motioned to the barkeep for another pint and replied, "He was no-where in sight. --- I mean, not so much as a hair from his well balding head was seen in the sand. There was the shovel, the pot, but no Murphy and no toolboxes."

Right after the next round of drinks, the whole gang of curious and high spirited men locked the bar and headed for the beach.

When they arrived at the spot where Kennedy had found the pot, even the pot was gone. The shovel was still sticking out of the sand and it was obvious by the designs in the sand that some waves had reached that area.

"The waves must have carried the pot out to sea,' David said. "It was right here when I left this place this morning."

"Or maybe some Leprechaun carried it away," Shawn O'Toole replied, and then snickered a sleigh, unbelieving, sort of snicker.

Well all the Pubs men searched until a terrible thirst fell upon them, then back to the pub they went.



The Barkeep, Cyrus McDurk, got on the phone soon after they arrived at the tavern; after drinks were served, of course.  

Cyrus called the local Constable to report the missing person, Murphy Brown. Then he called Big-Mike O'Hannahan and told him where they had found the shovel, which the Bartender had brought back with him and returned it to the (Used Tool) discount rack.

David Kennedy didn't hang around for anymore Ale; he headed for the train station to ketch the next train to Gilligan Township, where he had a Gold Sand-dollar to cash-in.



Months have passed by from the time of Murphy's disappearance and the whole situation has caused much debate at the pub each night. Everyone has different ideas as to what fate has befallen Murphy, and what has happened to the gold Sand-dollars that many believe Murphy had found.

Did someone do old Murphy in for the gold? Maybe they buried him in the sand or worse yet, maybe they sent him to a watery grave.

The cops did a search and contacted all the stores that deal in gold purchases. Only one gold Sand-dollar was purchased, and that was from Kennedy.

All the usual and obvious suspects had alibis, or were too drunk that night to have done any dastardly deeds.

The case soon went cold.

Some said Murphy just hi-tailed it off to some Exotic Island and is sitting in a beach-chair drinking drinks with little umbrellas in them, but that's not like Murphy. And let's face it, no-one knows for sure.



On the first night of the harvest moon, just about mid-night, Big-Mike O'Hannahan heard a muffled racket coming from downstairs. As he got out of bed he pulled his Shalaylee  from under his pillow and headed down the stairs.

As Mike entered the front room he saw something he never thought he would see. It was a Leprechaun! After the initial shock wore off, Big-Mike grabbed the little guy by the collar and lifted him into the air. "I Got You!" Mike yelled.

But as Mike spun the little guy around to get a better look at him, he dropped him and fell back into a big arm chair.

As soon as he was released the Leprechaun placed a (Whammy) on Mike, which didn't allow Mike to move.

Mike could talk, hear, and see, but his arms and legs wouldn't work.

"By the Saints, you are Murphy Brown, are you not?" Big-Mike questioned the Leprechaun.

"I was," replied the little man, "but now I am Murphy the Leprechaun and that is the way I'll stay until the day I die."

"How is that possible?" Mike questioned.

"Well, here is the long and short of it. This is the part of the Leprechaun story that you never hear, or know about, because those that ketch Leprechauns are seldom seen, or heard from again.

Leprechauns have pots of gold; some gold is shaped like coins, some like nuggets, and some like Sand-dollars. And the story goes, ("If you ketch a Leprechaun he has to give you his pot of gold."). But what they don't tell you is that once you remove the gold from the pot, you take that Leprechauns place; you become the Leprechaun."

Big-Mike thought for awhile and then asked, "What happens to the first Leprechaun?"

"Hell, I don't know! Maybe he turns into a Pixie, or a Fairy, or a Unicorn. --- Who knows? The point is that I am now stuck being a stupid Leprechaun. But on the plus side I now have some awesome magical powers."

"So what are you doing here at my house?" Mike questioned.

"Looking for the Sand-dollar that I gave you, it must be returned to IT's pot by mornings first light," Murphy replied.

"What happens if it isn't?" was Mike next question.

"None of the other Leprechauns know for sure, but they all say that it has to be done; (OR ELSE!). --- So where is it?"

"We made a deal, that dollar is mine now," O'Hannahan whined.

"I know," Murphy said, "and I'm sorry. If nothing else I've never been a welsher and I have always honored my debts, but this is a different situation. I may die if I don't get that dollar back in its pot!"

O'Hannahan grumbled and then said, "The dollar is in the little box on the mantel. But you owe me and don't forget it."

With that said, Leprechaun Murphy made a magic wave of his little hand and the pot of Golden Sand-dollars was on the floor in front of him. With another wave, the Gold Sand-dollar came out of the box that was on the mantel and flew across the room, falling into the pot. With a click of Murphy's fingers the pot of gold disappeared again.

"Well, I guess that pretty well does it," Murphy said. "You'll be able to move your arm and legs as soon as I am safely out of the house and out of your reach."

"Wait!" Big-Mike halliard. "Did you get the Sand-dollar David Kennedy found, he found it under the pot?"

"What are you saying, Murphy cried, there was another Sand-dollar that I didn't know about?"

At that moment a shard of morning's first light burst through the window and hit Leprechaun Murphy dead center; --- (POOF!) --- Murphy vanished.



A year passed and the story of Leprechaun Murphy was wide spread throughout the region.

The town had a sudden surge of tourists, some had metal detectors and other metal locating devises.

It is a good thing that the ocean and the wind puts sand back where it belongs, --- because the tourists dug up the dunes from one end to the other.

However, on the brighter side, the tourists bought a lot of food from the local farms. They also visited the pub daily and bought assorted tools, lunches and Ale.

Many of the local houses became bed-and-breakfast cottages for awhile. Everybody made a handsome income, that year, thanks to poor Murphy's assumed misfortune.



That next summer Big-Mike O'Hannahan and Shawn O'Toole was shore fishing when the darnedest thing happened.

A Male Sea-lion came out of the water and wattled up to Big-Mike, dropping something on the sand in front of him. The Sea-lion barked a few times and after that was done it returned to the sea.

Big Mike picked the object up and put it in his pocket.

"What the Sam-Hill was that all about?" O'Toole asked.

Mike replied, "That is for me to know and for you to find out. --- Besides, you wouldn't believe it anyway.


D. Thurmond / JEF  ---  02-01-2017


© Copyright 2018 D. Thurmond, aka, JEF. All rights reserved.

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