Anton's Odyssey

by Andre, Marc

  “But you are certain she was wearing a hat.”

  “No,” Cotton said, “but her hair was definitely pulled back. Maybe we should see if she’s at the mess hall?”

  I knew Cotton had lost interest in Fiona Mammalot and was just looking for an excuse to stuff his face. Finished with his diet, his voracious appetite had returned with a vengeance. He kept (most) of the weight off by running around after a ball with his smelly friends during open rec. They never actually played basketball with the other kids. They usually played pointless games like “nuke the kook” where they beamed the ball as hard as possible at each other. As far as I could tell, they kept no score and the game had no points, winners, losers, or purpose, really, other than the infliction of pain. Often he would come back with welts on his face and torso.

  Cotton’s plan had some merit though. If we went to the mess hall at that point in time, which was about when they started serving dinner, and if we stayed there until they shut down the hot line, we would get a chance to look at almost every person on the ship.

  In the passageway, the peculiarity of Cotton’s prior actions finally registered. “Cotton, how long have you been crawling around in the ductworks?” I asked.

  “Dunno really, a few weeks I guess.”

  “Why?”

  “Sort of happened by accident I guess?”

  “How’s that?”

  “You remember that guy Charlie?”

  “Yes, you practically kicked his ass. What about him?”

  “Yeah, well he has these two goons, Jeff and Mike. I think they’re older, and they’re pretty big.”

  “I don’t think I know them. How big? As big as Hammond?”

  “No not nearly that big, but they’re big enough, and they’re not all soft like Charlie.”

  “So what about them?”

  “Well, the other day, I guess it was a few weeks ago, you didn’t go to open rec so you could pull it.”

  “I wasn’t pulling it!” I protested

  “Yes you were.”

  “No I was doing homework,” I said, which was a lie. Cotton was right. I was probably pulling it.

  “Well whatever! You weren’t around. And I was hanging with my buds.”

  “Who? Stronzo and Sorca?” I asked. Stronzo and Sorca were two fat, greasy brothers. They were from Brazil and didn’t speak English very well. For whatever reason, all the kids in school thought they were Italian and gave them derogatory nicknames using Italian swear words.

  “Those aren’t their real names you know.” Cotton said. “You shouldn’t call them that. It’ll hurt their feelings.”

  “But you call them Stronzo and Sorca all the time. What are their real names?”

  Cotton scratched his head, “I don’t know.”

  “Impressive, Cotton! With friends like you, they will never want for a kick in the teeth!” I said sharply.

  Cotton shrugged indifferently, and I asked him to continue his story.

  “So we were playing nuke the kook and Charlie keeps tossing his ball, that fancy leather one, into our corner. I knew he was just trying to start trouble so I didn’t touch it. Stronzo and Sorca didn’t know any better though. Charlie tosses the ball in our corner and Sorca picks it up. Charlie walks over and says, ‘Give me my ball back you knob gobbler!’ but Sorca only sort of understands and throws him the ball back. Charlie says, ‘Don’t you ever touch my ball again you greasy knob gobbler!’ and Sorca totally doesn’t understand, thinks Charlie is thanking him or something, and smiles. Charlie tosses the ball right back into our corner and Sorca picks it up again. This time Charlie acts like he’s really mad and says, ‘Hey, I thought I told you not to touch my ball!’ Sorca really doesn’t understand and just says ‘yes.’ So Charlie realizes Sorca doesn’t speak good English and decides to take advantage of him. Charlie gets the attention of Jeff and Mike and says, ‘Hey check this out.’ He turns to Sorca and says, ‘I bet you really are a knob gobbler?’ and Sorca says ‘yes’ again but he’s not smiling anymore because he’s finally starting to figure out Charlie’s picking on him. Charlie asks him, ‘I bet you want to gobble my knob?’ and Sorca says ‘no’ but not because he understands what Charlie is saying. He just guessed lucky. Now Mike and Charlie and Jeff figure this out so Mike asks, ‘Do you not want a face full of knuckles?’ you know phrases it so that if Sorca says ‘no’ he’s in trouble.”

  “It’s called a double negative,” I interjected. “You should know this by now.”

  “Well, whatever it’s called, Sorca falls for it and says ‘no.’ So Jeff says, ‘you heard him, he wants a face full of knuckles, hit him Charlie!’ Charlie looks around to make sure that referee guy wasn’t looking.”

  “You mean Mr. Fox?” I asked.

  “Yeah him. He wasn’t watching, so Charlie punches Sorca, but it was a pretty sorry punch, kind of like a slap, only with a fist. I could tell Sorca wasn’t really hurt but he flops over and closes his eyes like he was knocked out or something.”

  In disbelief, I asked, “Did they actually fall for it?”

  “Actually they did. Jeff says, ‘Holy crap, Charlie, you knocked him out!’ And Mike says, ‘I didn’t think you had it in you!’ Even Charlie looks surprised and then all smug, pleased with himself like he was some sort of tough guy, which he’s not.”

  “No, he’s not,” I agreed. “Did Sorca fool you?”

  “No, not at all. I could see that he had one eye open and was smiling, but I guess Stronzo fell for it ‘cause he tackles Charlie and brings him down pretty easy even though Charlie is like twice his size. Charlie is like all screaming, ‘Get him off of me!’ So Mike pulls Stronzo up and pins his arms at his side. Jeff punches Stronzo in the stomach, a real punch, real hard, not a sissy roundhouse fist slap like what Charlie did earlier. The punch made a real loud noise and Stronzo goes ‘ummpf’ and doubles over.”

  “Knocked the breath out of him,” I observed.

  “Yeah, he’s pretty much out of the fight so Mike lets go of him. So it’s three on one, so I knew I’d better book it.”

  “You could of just screamed for help, I mean Mr. Fox was right there. Wasn’t he?”

  Cotton paused for a while, lost in thought. “Yeah, I guess. But I figured Mr. Fox would just blame everything on me. And I knew I was going to have to fight them at some time or another, either that or they would never stop picking on me. I guess by running I was hoping I could separate them and fight them one at a time.”

  “Good man!” I nodded. Cotton had expressed very sound ghetto logic.

  Cotton smiled and continued, “I had a bit of a head start on them. I looked back. Sorca was still lying on the ground, and Stronzo was crawling over to him to see if he was still alive. Mike and Jeff weren’t too far behind but Charlie was, all huffin’ and puffin’ and out of breath.”

  “Yeah, that guy’s a real cream puff. I’m surprised real goons like Mike and Jeff would even hang out with him.”

  “Well isn’t his dad an officer?” Cotton asked with unusual insight.

  “First mate, actually. That’s probably got something to do with it. They probably get special privileges or something by being his friend.”

  “Yeah,” Cotton agreed.

  “Continue!” I demanded. Cotton’s exploits could be rather entertaining.

  “Ok… where was I? Ah yes… Jeff and Mike are gaining on me, so I pull a rack of basketballs in their way. Mike gets tripped up and he and the rack go down with a loud crash. I didn’t trip Jeff though, so before everyone turns to look at the ruckus, he grabs me. I tried to hit him, but he had me around the arms pretty tight. He pushes me into the sports closet and slams the door behind me.”

  “He’s in there with you?”

  “Naw, he shut me in, but he’s on the outside. I’m stuck inside with all the floor hockey sticks. I can hear Mr. Fox asking Mike if he’s okay, acting all concerned, thinking that it was just an accident. I try to push the door open but Jeff is leaning against it with all his weight so it wou
ldn’t budge. I’m slamming up against it over and over again but nothing’s happening! Jeff is just too big! I can hear Mr. Fox telling Mike to be more careful, and Mike says that he will. Then Charlie asks if they can go into the sports closet to get badminton rackets and a shuttlecock, and I can hear some kid sniggering, and this other kid says, ‘he said cock!’”

  “Why didn’t you call out for help?” I asked. Any machismo honor code is null and void when it’s three on one and a bad beating is imminent.

  “I thought about it, but I figured I’d get in trouble for being in the equipment closet without permission.”

  “Yeah, that’s a good point. I think Mr. Fox would ban you for life. Still, though, getting in trouble with Mr. Fox is probably better than getting a three-on-one beat down.”

  “I suppose you’re right, but I just didn’t think about that at the time.”

  “So you were cornered, but you obviously got away because if you got a three-on-one ass beating I would have noticed you limping. So what happened?”

  “Well, I knew I had a little time ‘cause they were waiting for Mr. Fox to walk away. So I looked for some place to hide.”

  “There’s nowhere to hide,” I said. “That closet is tiny.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it. There was nowhere to go and I was really starting to panic. That’s when I noticed the grate on the vent was loose, hanging loosely by one screw. So I pulled it off and squeezed in. It was a real tight fit but somehow I managed to fit into the duct. I pulled the grate back in place just in time. Charlie and his two goons bust in and start looking for me. They are like moving everything around saying, ‘Where is he? He’s gotta be in here!’ Mike is like, ‘There’s no one here, you sure you didn’t push him into the passageway by mistake?’ And Jeff says ‘Yeah, I think I know where I push people, jackass!’ And Mike says, ‘Well, the passageway is just one door over, maybe you got confused.’ And Jeff was like, ‘Impossible! I could feel him pushing on the door trying to get out when Mr. Fox was picking your sorry carcass off the floor.’ I could see through the grate and Charlie is staring right at me, scratching his head. I didn’t think he could see me yet, but I figured I’d have to get lost so I started crawling down the duct.”

  “How come the duct didn’t shake and rattle like it does at our place?” I asked.

  “Because our place is a piece of crap and the gym is like important, so they put the ducts in better. There are a bunch of other reasons too.”

  “Okay,” I said, “continue.”

  “So I’m crawling, slow at first, because I didn’t want to make any noise.”

  “So moving slow keeps the ducts quiet?”

  “That’s one reason, but there are others I’ll get to in a second.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “So I am moving real slow and wondering if I should just try to book it, because I hear Charlie say, ‘Hey maybe he’s in the vent.’ But I was lucky ‘cause they start to argue again which gave me time to creep away a little. Jeff says, ‘There’s no way he’d fit in there.’ I hear Mike say, ‘He’s not that fat, and he’s got a pretty small frame. He might fit in there.’ And Charlie says, ‘Well open it!’ Mike says, ‘It’s your idea, genius, you open it.’ Charlie says, ‘It’s probably dirty in there.’ And Mike calls him ‘chicken’ so Charlie has no choice but to open it.’ Now, I’m lying perfectly still, and I hear Charlie pop off the grate. I’m only a meter away, and I know he’s going to see me but I’m hoping he won’t be able to reach. I hear Charlie say, ‘I can’t see nothing. I don’t think he’s in here.’ Mike says, ‘Put your hand in.’ And Charlie sticks his hand in but he reaches the wrong way. He pulls his hand out and looks at it and says, ‘Man, it’s really dirty in there.’ And Jeff comments that it looks like Charlie stuck his fist up Stronzo’s butt and they laugh. Charlie puts the grate back in place and they just walk away.”

  “They gave up! Just like that?” I asked.

  “Well, I wasn’t certain and figured they might just wait for me in the gym, so I decided not to take any chances and that I should just keep crawling down the duct to see where it goes. I followed it looking for a loose grate, but all the ones I came across were bolted down pretty tight. I made all these twists and turns and come to… um… what’s it called when you can go one way or another?”

  My knowledge of ductwork nomenclature was limited. “A junction?” I guessed.

  Cotton shrugged. Junction made sense. “So I’m coming to these junctions and kind of just guessing which way to go. After an hour I was totally lost.”

  “You were in the ducts for an hour?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Well, I don’t know if it was exactly an hour but it sure seemed like an hour. For all I know it was ten minutes. But since then, I’ve been in the ducts for much longer than an hour.”

  “Really how long?”

  “Oh, at least half a day on several occasions.” Clearly, my brother had many stories to tell. Cotton continued, “So I finally find a grate that’s not bolted down too tight. I get it loose but it’s a long way down to the floor. I am about to hop down, when I hear someone coming in the room below, so I pull the grate back in place. Then this naked lady walks in.”

  “What?” I said in disbelief. “You’re lying!”

  “No. I swear, this naked lady comes in. I was right over the women’s washateria.”

  “Which one?” I asked

  “Which one what?”

  “Which washateria?”

  “The woman’s washateria, doofus! That’s why there was a naked woman in it.”

  “No, no, no! I mean was it the washateria for able starwomen or officers or ordinary starwomen?”

  “Not sure, could have been an officer’s washateria I guess, because each shower spigot had its own stall, not like in ours where the showers have no dividers, and we have to watch all the other guys scrubbing their dongs.”

  “I think all women’s washaterias are like that,” I said, “or at least that’s what Hammond told me. Said for men, it’s a sausage fest unless you’re an officer, but woman have private showers for some reason.”

  Cotton shrugged, “Anyways, guess who the naked woman was?”

  “You mean you knew her?” I pictured Fiona Mammalot, knowing that it wouldn’t be her because Cotton said she was wearing a hat. I was hoping he’d describe something close though.

  “Yeah, it was Mary from the medical center!”

  I shrieked, my mental image of tight woman flesh completely obliterated.

  “Ah yeah, it was awful!” Cotton said. “She had these saggy floppy boobs with these red stretch marks and giant purple veins.”

  “Stop!” I screamed, clutching my ears and trying to fight off the image in my mind. “You don’t need to give me that much detail.”

  “Yeah sorry! It was pretty nasty. I was in a big hurry to get out of there so I started crawling down the duct again. But as soon as I started wiggling, Mary snaps her head up, looking up at me. At first I thought she saw me through the grate, but after a few seconds she lost interest and looked back down. So I try to move again and that’s when I realize that every time I move, the duct starts to shake and rattle. She looks up again, so I quit moving. I wait for her to finish her shower, which seemed to take forever. She finally left, and I started to move down the duct. Some of the grates were positioned right in between two stalls so you could see two stalls at the same time.”

  “How’s that?” I asked. I couldn’t quite understand Cotton’s description. He gestured with his hands, showing me that sometimes a grate was placed in the middle of a wall so that part of the grate would look down into one stall and the other part looked down into the adjacent stall.

  “That’s when I noticed that some of the walls in the ship are really thick and some are really thin. It seemed like the thin walls didn’t hold the ducts too tight so they rattle when I move in ‘em.”

  “Impressive!” I said. I wasn’t sure if I would have been able to make the connection myse
lf.

  “Yeah, I knew every time I was in a room with thin walls I would have to keep real still if someone came in.”

  “So the walls at our place are pretty thin?” I asked, deductively.

  “Oh yeah, the thinnest in the ship. Like I said, our place is a piece of crap. It’s like Bob the steward went out of his way to give us the crappiest place there was.”

  “He probably did,” I agreed. “How many times have you gone back in the ducts?” I asked.

  “Oh every day,” he said. “I’ve seen some really cool stuff.”

  “Well be careful,” I warned. “I heard this story about this cat that went into a vent…” I paused because I couldn’t remember what happened next.

  “Yeah, what happened?” Cotton asked.

  “I dunno… he invented space travel.”

  “The cat invented space travel?” Cotton said with disbelief.

  “No of course not.” I replied. “The point I am trying to make is that what you are doing can be dangerous. Something bad happened to the cat, but I just can’t remember what.”

  Cotton shrugged, “I wouldn’t worry about it. I’ve pretty much seen the entire ship by now. It’s not like I’m going jump out in the middle of the engine room.”

  “You’ve been to the engine room?”

  “No, I haven’t found it yet, but if I did, it’s not like I’d jump down and start messing with all the machines.”

  “Yeah you would.” I scolded. “You would so mess with all the machines. You’d probably get us all killed.”

  Cotton nodded his head and grinned. “You’re right, I probably would.”

  “There’s probably a lot of places you haven’t been.” I argued.

  “Naw, I’m pretty sure I’ve been everywhere.”

  “You just said, five seconds ago, that you haven’t been in the engine room!”

  “Yeah, okay, I haven’t been to the engine room. But I’ve been everywhere else. I’ve even seen the captain’s room?”

  “Really?” I asked. “What was he doing?”

  “Playing with his dong.”

  “No way, you lie!”

  “Yeah I lie.” Cotton giggled. “Mostly he sits around sipping liquor out of a metal flask he hides in his desk. He spends a lot of time trimming his beard too. He gets all pissed off if any of the officers knock on the door to ask him questions.”