Fated Journey [FICTION]

1491 shall be the year that I sail around the world. My family begged me not to go. They believe I will sail right off the world into nothingness. I know I shall find something wondrous and world changing that prevents that from happening. Luckily, my profits from trading goods between my country and those near and far have finally provided enough funds to pay for my grand exploration.

My regular crew has sworn to follow me anywhere. Their assertions prove false. After loading the hold and preparing their bunks, one of them asks about our destination.

“We’re going to sail around de world and back again.” I declare proudly.

“Around the world?” My first mate asks, unrolling the map of the world to gaze at it. “By what route?”

He traces his finger over to the west, up to the top of the world to the far east, and then back home.

“No. No. I want to go straight through.” I push my finger further west, pick it up and bring it back around from the far east.

“But the world ends here, Captain.” He points at a triangle etched gently in red on the far western edge of the map.

“I don’t believe it does and I aim to prove it.”

“But no one ever comes back who takes that route.”

“Perhaps because they found something better than they had here,” I offer with a look which challenges any to contradict me.

The first mate glances at the other members of the crew and does just that. “Captain, please don’t make us do this.”

“Are you loyal men or mutineers?”

“Loyal men, sir.” 

“Then hold your heads up high and prepare to make history.”

They all stand a little taller, but I see the fear in their eyes. I should have found a more adventurous crew, but I wanted one that was tried and true. To the man, they had saved me from danger and kept me going when the situation seemed dire. I wanted to bring them with me, but now I am not sure. It is too late to change course or crew now.

“Shove off, men.” I call out and we are underway.

~~

Smooth sailing graces the first leg of our journey. Anxiety mounts as we draw closer to the triangle on the first mate’s crudely drawn map. One evening, he joins me in my cabin. He pours me a hearty glass of scotch, pushing it toward me in silence. I raise an eyebrow and belt it back, knowing he won’t speak his mind until I accept this offering.

“What’s on your mind?”

“We still have time to divert our course around the triangle, sir.”

“That we do, but we will sail through the heart of it and come out the other side. You’ll see.”

He sighs but inclines his head in defeat. “Aye. Aye, Captain.”

I pour him a glass of scotch and push it over to him After her takes a healthy slug, I hold out my hand. “I’m glad to have you with me on this journey.”

“Thank you, sir.” We shake hands, holding on as tightly as we’d hold the bowline if need be.

Our eyes lock and though I see his fear, he meets my eyes. Then we release our grip. He finishes his scotch and heads out into the night. I hear another crewman hail him as the door closes behind his back. I return to examining the course I have been plotting, willing the morning to bring proof of my hypothesis. 

Instead, the morning brought a storm unlike any I have ever experienced. It wakes me up by dumping me roughly from my bunk. I crawl across the floor to open the door. A deluge of water washes over me. Moments later, my first mate washes in.

“Morning, Captain,” he greets me with green-faced joviality. “Ready to turn back yet?”

“No.” I declare as I slam the door on another wave.

“I had hoped you’d have a different answer, sir.”

“But I am the Captain, so you’ll support me.” I tell him.

His face becomes greener. “Well, you see, sir. Then I’d be in the same boat with ye.”

“You already are.”

He looks sadly at his hands as the door slams open again. Instead of another watery horde, the two largest members of my crew barge into the room. They grab me by the shoulders and lift me out the door into the pouring rain.

“I’m sorry about this, Captain. I am.” My first mate leans in to whisper in my ear. 

Looking in his moist eyes, I believe him. “You’ve decided to mutiny against yer Captain. Are ye a bunch of landlubbers?” I roar over the wind.

“Sorry, Captain. We don’t plan to die for anyone else’s fairy tales.” One of the burly men responds in a deep voice. “Whether he be the captain or no.”

The second chimes in as they lead me toward one of the small boats used to go ashore in low waters, “But we wish you well and hope to see you back at home.”

A scrawny crewman who joined us at the last minute and always regarded me with wide eyes reserved for gold doubloons or unreachable idols steps forward and hands me a sack. “Good luck, sir.” I swear tears moisten his eyes more than the storm.

Then the burly crewmen heave me over the side. I grip the sack and the side of the rowboat boat with both hands. I may not survive the storm with them, but I am certain I won’t without them. I barely feel the splash as my tiny boat connects with the water. I hunker down and hope for the best as the waves toss me about. In the dark, with no way of determining my heading, rowing against the raging waters would only serve to wear me out.

At some point, the storm dissipates and the gentle rocking of the waves puts me to sleep. Sunlight pulls me out of a nightmare of mutiny to the realization the mutiny wasn’t a nightmare. I slowly rise to peer over the edge of the boat. Clear seas greet me from every direction. With the sun to shed light on the contents, I open the sack.

“Bless him. I wish I remembered his name.” 

I pull out a compass and some rations and a few water skins. Carefully nested in a change of clothes and a sturdy box, I find my spare sextant  and a compass giving shape to the bottom of the bag. As I check my direction, I am pleased to find myself still headed west toward the triangle.

~~

As the sun rises to its full height in the sky, a thick fog slowly settles around me. I marvel at this as fog usually melts in the rays of the sun. I glance down at my compass to assure myself that my prow still cuts through the waters to the west. Instead of being reassured, my confusion deepens. The needle bounces from side to side as if inspired to dance by a steady drumbeat. I look up again to behold shadows floating in the fog. 

A roar sounds over my head and I look up to see a manta ray soaring across the sky at unbelievable speed. My jaw drops to my chest. Then the force of a collision forces it back into position. Emerging out of the fog, an immense ship blocks my way forward. Men in matching uniforms of starched white peer down at me over the railing. Their faces mirror the mystification clouding my mind.

Before I can call out, the mist seems to rise and takes the mirage with it. I marvel at the brilliance of clear skies above and calm seas below. A glance at my instruments reveals that I am still heading west. I fashion a crude hat from my bag to keep the sun out of my eyes and look at the meager food left for my consumption. I nibble a bit of jerky and look out toward the horizon, hoping to see land.

The next three days pass in much the same way, except that the third day finds me nibbling on the last bit of jerky from my rations and sipping sadly at the last drips from my water skin. As the last bit of water wets my tongue, I shield my eyes as I peer out to the horizon. A large shape bobs in the distance. I stare at it, wondering if my mind is already slipping away from me. But if I let it disappear from view, I would not have time to forgive myself, so I applied myself to the oars as if I believed in this vision before me to be reality.

“Bless me. It’s the captain!” A familiar voice echoed over the water as I drew closer to the apparition, which now revealed itself to be my own ship.

I stopped rowing and stared up at my first mate as other crew members joined him to peer down at me. 

“I guess the world didn’t end at the triangle after all,” a rough voice declared, “Bring him aboard.”

As they worked to reclaim me, no one deigned to meet my eye. With my feet finally firmly on my deck, I eyed them all wearily. 

“So what do we do now?” Someone asked as they surrounded me.

“Good to see you, captain,” the first mate said though he hadn’t looked me directly in the eyes.

“I wish it were mutual,” I said as I tapped my sextant against my leg and surveyed my men, searching for the boy.

When my eyes rested on him, he held my gaze for a second before looking to the deck in shame.

“Step forward, boy.”

He did so, haltingly.

“What’s your name, son?”

“Earl Withers,” he mumbled.

“Looks like I am the Captain of this ship again. Want to try your hand at first mate?”

My former first made hung his head, but no one argued my statement. The rest of the route home found a very quiet ship except for waves slapping against the hull and birds crying over our heads whenever we approached land. Though Earl did warm up to me by the end of the journey, offering me the occasional joke to liven up the day. Upon reaching our home shore, the men set the ship to rights and disappeared onto the docks. I wasn’t sorry to see the backs of them. Earl and I stood alone on the deck, surveying the owner of the ship as he came aboard to hear about our journey. He seemed satisfied with the goods we had acquired, but I could tell by the hesitancy with which he paid me the agreed fee that rumors had already spread about the mutiny against my command.

 

~~

One year from our fateful voyage and I seek out my former crew. I don’t blame them for not wanting to see me. I wouldn’t want to see the disappointment etched on my face either, but today they shall see it. They shall not turn away because today they must admit that I spoke true when I said we could safely circle the world. I wish they had seen what I saw, so someone could help me make sense of it, but no man nor beast will let me sail a ship now. Once the aura of a curse falls upon you, the whole world avoids being in your wake.

~~

I was torn between having them speak with terrible grammar and mispronunciation, which can be annoying to read, and my normal narrative style. What say ye? Did I choose wisely?

Tentative Trip [FICTION]

My best friend Patty insisted this would be the best way to catch up. I used to have nightmares about the ocean, so I tried to talk her into anything but a cruise. She wouldn’t be swayed, so I packed my bags and joined her at the boarding gate. She giggled excitedly. I tried to hold back the disturbance already brewing in my stomach.

Our first evening went surprisingly well. The second day found us about ready to pull out into the ocean as beautiful sunlight filtered down on the deck of our ship. We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast in some lounge chairs watching the ocean—after we claimed them from the buffet. By lunchtime, I regretted my choice of heavy pastries. I don’t remember grabbing the huge pile of wax-lined bags, but I was grateful to have them as the ship pitched this way and that as I lay on my bed feeling miserable.

Patty came looking for me around lunchtime and found me still curled up in the fetal position on my bed. I barely understood her as she handed me a tiny pill and a glass of water and commanded me to take it. She shushed me as I tried to explain that putting anything into my stomach was asking for trouble, so I took the pill and hoped she’d stay around long enough to see the error in her ways.

With a sad face, she bustled off to claim food from the buffet. I curled back up on my bed and fell asleep. When I woke up, the sunlight indicated that sunset approached. I gently stretched out my legs, surprised to not feel instantly compelled to roll back into a ball. That success emboldened me. I slowly sat up and swung my feet to the floor. Instead of rumbling threateningly, my stomach gurgled hungrily. I checked the time, relieved to find that the buffet would remain open for a half hour. 

As I slipped on flip flops and pulled open my door, I found a note from Patty telling me she already had dinner and reminding me that she left me a box of seasickness pills on my bathroom sink. I didn’t remember her telling me in the first place, so I said a little prayer of thanks for her intuitiveness. I turned around and read the box carefully before tucking it into my pocket. I knew I wouldn’t want to be without those.

I found the buffet mostly empty, except for fresh food that the wait staff brought out when I wandered in behind a party of six that either hadn’t found their sea legs or found their way to the bar much earlier in the day. A whiff of one of the women confirmed that it was option two. I tried to avoid getting within smelling distance of any of them on subsequent trips to the buffet. I ate slowly to assure myself that anything introduced to my stomach would stay there. After a light meal and pocketing some fruit for later, I wandered out to the top deck. 

A few couples walked hand in hand, whispering to each other under the dim overhead lights. I gave them wide berth and they remained unaware that they were not alone. I stepped over to the railing, expecting to see the water stirred up around us as the ship cut through the water toward out destination. Instead I saw only the gentle sweep of the ocean. We weren’t moving, we were stalled on the high seas. I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to this trip.

As if to further convince me how foolhardy my choice had been, a movement along the hull of the ship caught my attention. A tentacle rose out of the water and cupped the side of the ship. Another followed. And another. Until eight tentacles loving enveloped the ship. I stifled a scream and chose a more proactive way to deal with this phenomenon. I went in search of the captain. The staff members I encountered didn’t know where he was and seemed unconvinced by my report of what I had seen.

I stumbled back into the ship, searching for anyone who can lead me to the captain. I finally came across a waiter dragging weary feet along the carpet on his way to his bunk.

“Excuse me.”

“Yes, ma’am?” His eyes begged me to have a simple request or none at all.

I tried to keep it simple. “Do you know where the captain is?”

“Naw. No one ever knows where he is until they see him.” 

“Is there a vice captain?”

“A what?”

“A vice captain…like a vice president. Someone who has authority when the captain is sleeping or whatever?”

“Not exactly, but the head engineer should be able to help you out.”

“And where would I find him?” I asked in exasperation.

“He likes to get an ice cream cone before bed and he goes to bed early.” The waiter rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“I’ll look around the soft serve machine then.” I mumbled and went in that direction.

“Good luck, ma’am.” His weary voice followed me.

No one loitered around the soft serve machine. Until I reached it, I thought the idea of eating an ice cream cone at this hour ludicrous. Looking at the gently whirring machine changed my mind. I grabbed a sugar cone and filled it up with a creamy chocolate vanilla swirl. Halfway through my late snack, a thin older man joined me. He grinned under his bushy grey mustache.

“Too good to resist one more before bed, I always say.” He greeted me in an Irish brogue, grabbed a cake cone, and filled it expertly.

Mesmerized I forgot to say anything. Luckily, he filled the silence as he grabbed the shaker of sprinkles and decorated his treat.

“You look like that might not be strong enough for what ails you.”

“Pardon?” I croaked.

“You’re pale and you’re shaking.”

“Are you the head engineer?”

He blinked a couple of times before tentatively replying. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

“I can’t find the captain and I have to talk to someone about something I saw.”

His mouth formed a straight line as he looks at me. “Did one of the staff do something…”

“No. Come with me. You won’t believe me if you don’t see it.”

“As you wish, ma’am.” He gestured gallantly with his cone.

I headed back up to the top deck, half afraid that the creature would disappear before we reached the railing. I forgot to breath until we both looked at the tentacles over the railing.

“Well, that’s something.” He said calmly, clearing his throat a little as he swallowed the last of his cone.

“Something? Something indeed. A giant sea creature has ahold of our ship.” I realized that the water around us roiled due to the ship now being in motion and traveling rather fast. “And it is taking us somewhere at top speed.”

“I wouldn’t worry about, if I were you.”

“You don’t seem surprised.”

“I can’t say that I am. You see lots of things when you travel the oceans as much as I do.” He looked away from me.

“You’ve seen this creature before.”

He cleared his throat again. “You could say that.”

“So you know what is going to happen to us.” I bit my lip, holding back the hysteria bubbling to the surface.

“Calm down, ma’am. I am going to tell you something in strictest confidence because I can see that not knowing isn’t going to end well, for you but I must ask you not to share. It isn’t my secret to tell, after all. You understand?”

I didn’t really but I nodded my head slowly.

“That’s the captain. Whenever his ship stalls or encounters trouble, he becomes that creature and carries her safely home. It’s a right love story.”

I stared at him.

“I didn’t believe it at first either.” He reached out to stabilize my elbow. “How long ago did you first see him?”

I stared at the tentacles, thinking about what I had done since. “Maybe a half hour.”

“Let’s stay here a little longer.”

I nodded again, leaning against the railing. He didn’t release my elbow. If anything, he gripped it tighter. As we watched the ocean rolling around us, I felt the exhaustion seeping into my bones.

“Here we go.” The head engineer pointed to the furthest tentacle, which lowered into the water.

Soon only four tentacles remained above water. They seemed to shrink into themselves, becoming smaller. Then they gripped the wall and began climbing toward us. As the creature got closer, its body grew more and more human. As the tentacles gripped the railing near me, they disappeared into the arms and legs of a familiar man—more familiar than on our last meeting as he was naked. He lowered his hands to try to cover as much as he could which only made me look in the direction they had fallen. My cheeks flushed and I looked away, wishing to look anywhere but at the captain.

“Jameson, I didn’t expect to be meeting one of our passengers.”

“Sorry, sir, she noticed you towing the ship to keep us on schedule.”

“Ah. So sorry to have worried you, ma’am. I don’t suppose you’d care to eat with me at my table for dinner tomorrow to make up for the worry I caused.”

“I’m here with a friend.” I responded numbly.

“Excellent. The more the merrier. Though perhaps we shouldn’t tell your friend about this.”

“She’d never believe me.”

“Most people don’t believe what they can’t see. You can turn around now. Jameson is always kind enough to meet me up here with a change of clothe.”

I half turned, relieved to find him now clad in swim shorts and a tank top. 

“Shall we?” He offered me his arm and Jameson took the other.

I shrugged and accepted. This evening couldn’t get any weirder after all.

~~Late again. Hope you enjoyed fireworks, friends, family, and fun over the holiday weekend. We were treated to fireworks three days in a row—though my child thought they were thunder and was too scared to sleep like she needed to. But we are awake now and I offer this for your reading pleasure…~~