by S. M. Welles
Sauna spoke to Ed and Ted, who were as confused as Jessie and none of them near laughing. “Just join in once you catch the rhythm. It’s not hard.” He and my seasoned crew members used their elbows to space themselves out. Jacobi was seated near the railing, sticks in hand and leg propped up on the lower rail. They all settled in place and waited for me to start.
I handed a jar to Sam. I’d thought of giving one to Sauna but he’d done that just five years ago. It was too early to drive home the loss of close friends again. The techies all got real close to each other, and same for my cargo pushers, yet we were all one unified crew. Still, Sauna was feeling the two losses the hardest right now. I’d been through this service far too many times, but at least most of the ashes I’d cast into the sea had died of old age, a fact I took pride in, despite hating how unnaturally long I’ve been alive.
Sam and I stood on opposite ends of the line. Rammus pulled out a book of poems from his jacket and opened it to a choice page, then took his post behind the middle of the line.
I took a deep breath to keep my voice steady. My throat was constricting. “To Jim Norman, better known as Jersey. Born October eighth, 2383 in Cape May, New Jersey. Died October twentieth, 2412. K.I.A. He will be missed.” My impromptu drummers rapped out a short rhythm.
Sam said, “To Michael Jones, from Atlantic City, New Jersey. Born April sixteenth, 2381. Died October twentieth, 2412. K.I.A. He will be missed.” The crew repeated the two-measure beat and fell silent.
I set Jersey’s jar on the deck, then crossed to the iron chest Rammus stood by. I chucked Jersey’s favorite deck of cards in there, along with the tattered shirt Mike had worn the day I’d hired him. It was hard to let the objects go. They were pieces of friends I’d known for five good years. I nodded to Rammus to begin.
He fished two objects out of his jacket, then cleared his throat. “I’d like to read ‘Sea Fever’ by John Mansfield, to bid them farewell on this night.”
Jacobi tapped out four beats, then the drumming began. It rose and fell in volume with each line, ebbing and flowing like waves on beach.
“I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.”
Sam set his jar down and stood before the chest with his own gifts: photos. That was a sore thing to give up. They were the only way any of us would get to see their faces again. Now we had several fewer to remember them by. If the parting gift didn’t hurt at least a little, then it wasn’t a good enough gift. I understood why Sam had chosen the photos: to remind us to look to the future and not dwell on the past.
Sam took two driftwood carvings from Rammus, then waved O’Toole over. The Irishman was subdued and hiding his head under his hood. He was pretty good at picking up on other people’s emotions and emulating them. He was smart enough to understand death, but it would take him a while to understand that the two techies were gone and that he’d never get to prank them again. Sam handed him a carving of a dolphin. Together they added the items to the chest. I then realized Rammus must’ve never slept last night in order to bang out the carvings, the second one of another dolphin.
And he’d taken over the wheel for me…
Sam returned to his jar and O’Toole huddled behind Rammus.
“I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.”
The rest of the crew added their gifts to the chest one by one and returned to their drumming. Sauna gave one each of the boots and work gloves to Ed and Ted. The new techies added the attire to the chest, one person as a time, and Sauna added their mates. Cancer brought over Jacobi’s gifts, a filleting knife and gold chain necklace. Cancer added a jar of burn ointment and a package of bandages. Simple things that brought back many fond memories that spawned endless jokes. Those two were burn magnets.
“I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.”
Rammus fell silent and the drumming continued, taking on a new phrase, one that roiled like a riptide. He closed and locked the chest. Sam detached a second of railing and set it aside, then joined Rammus and I in sliding the chest to the gap. The drumming built in intensity, Ed and Ted keeping up with the rest. Together, the three of us heaved the chest over the side. It cannonballed with a big splash, then began its journey to Davy Jones’ locker. We weren’t pirates, but here we were burying a chest full of priceless treasure. I dusted off my hands and returned to Jersey’s ashes.
Now, what was about to happen next would make anyone who didn’t know the truth become devout believers in sailor superstitions. Everyone but Ed, Ted, and Jessie had seen it before. “Don’t stop drumming,” I told the two.
I held the jar out over the railing. A column of water rose like a geyser to take it. The leading end morphed into a hand big enough to wrap around my body as it reached for the jar. I cradled Jersey’s ashes in the giant hand, then stepped back. The hand closed around the jar and pulled it into the sea in one swift motion. Sam held out his jar and it was claimed by a second watery hand.
Unsurprisingly, Ed and Ted had stopped drumming to stare. Jessie stared too, eyes ready to pop out of her head. It was no big deal that the new techies had stopped drumming. No harm done or intended.
Right after the second jar disappeared, the drumming concluded, leaving the rolling sea to fill the silence. I let the moment of silence stretch out so everyone could say a prayer and bid them farewell, including myself. Once this funeral was over, it was right back to what we knew as normal.
After a minute passed, I quietly said, “Alright, men, we’ll reach Revivre in about ten days. Everyone who’s ready to retire for the night is free to go.” Rammus pocketed his book and collected all the drumming equipment. Cancer and Scully helped Jacobi hobble away, O’Toole following them. I turned to Jessie. “Your turn.” A few more had been making to leave. They stopped and turned back, but stood away from the railing. I waved Jessie over.
She fearfully contemplated the ocean a moment, then picked up her burden and cautiously approached me.
“There’s nothing be afraid of. You’re not a jar of ashes.”
She whispered, “But my name…”
“Is Jessie,” I whispered back, then gestured for her to give her sneakers a good toss. “Time to say goodbye to your old life and make way for the new.”
Jessie cringed. At the same time there was yearning in her dark eyes.
“You can do it, hun,” Ed said.
“We’ll give you a drumroll,” Ted said. The two lined the railing and began rapping on it with their knuckles. Mido joined in, followed by Sam and Rammus. Sauna joined as well and turned the drumroll into a beat like that of a train chugging along. The rest of my remaining men lined up and strengthened the beat.
I watched on and waited for my cue to participate.
Wiping stray hair off her face, Jessie steeled herself and frowned at the ocean, as if challenging it to tell her to back down. She took a few steps back, swung her sneakers to one side, then surged forward and chucked them over the side with a girly grunt. The weights and sneakers twirled. Right before everything hit the water, a whale-sized koi fish made of water surged up out of a wave and swallowed the weighted shoes, then dived back under, giving us only a glimpse of its whiskers, scales, frilly fins, and dorsal fin. Its tail end melded with the wave behind it and the whole thing became one with the ocean
once more. The koi hadn’t looked too bad for not having seen one in a good few years.
Ed, Ted, and Jessie gaped at the splash ring and the drumming stopped. The rest of the crew looked at me, eyes wide. I held a finger to my lips, then slipped my hands in my pockets and limped off. My ankle had swollen nicely after my jumping stunt.
Ted said, “So that’s why we’re supposed to use your nickname only.” There was awe and fear in his voice.
“I guess so,” Jessie said, matching the techie’s tone.
Sam said, “Wait, Jessie’s not your real name?”
I paused and risked looking over a shoulder. Yep, the older members who’d just figured it out were staring at the poor girl in abject horror. Sauna, however was clueless. He hadn’t been with me long enough to understand the full extend of my curse.
Sauna said, “So what’s your real name?”
Jessie shook her head. “I’m not even gonna write it down after what I just saw.”
“Captain?” Sam said.
I turned around and wore a glare. “What, you want me to say it instead?”
“Er, no. Does this mean we’re heading—”
“I will discuss everything in full after lockdown, so worry about it later.”
“Yes, Captain,” he said somberly.
“Lockdown?” Jessie said.
Chapter 10
Wrath
The night after the funeral—the night before my curse would pull me into its monthly grip—I quietly woke several choice crew members. Most woke easily. Even though we were all hardened men, death never struck softly. A few had managed to find deep sleep, forcing me to shake them until they startled awake. Thankfully, none of them tried to hit me out of self defense. However, a few unintended people woke. I told them to go back to sleep.
Five tired, heartsore men followed me to the main deck. We stopped by the metal door to a large shipment container that used to be four smaller train container. Now they were one welded-together resident on my ship.
The stars were out in full with no moon to speak of. The railing lights were still on. Rammus would know to turn them off at dawn. Hopefully it’d be a sunny day tomorrow so the solar batteries could recharge. That was a lot of lights strung along both sides of a very long boat. I leaned against the container door.
Mido, Rammus, Sam, Cancer, and Scully stood in a semicircle around me. They knew it was almost time for my lockdown. The thing is, I only ever grabbed Rammus to make sure I was locked in. They looked at me suspiciously as the wind whipped at us. I cast my gaze to my old boots. “It’s been twenty seven years,” I said just loud enough to be heard over the wind. I didn’t want to talk about it, but I’d create more problems if I waited. “You all know what that means. You’re the only ones who’ve been through it before—minus Mido.”
“Australia,” Rammus said somberly.
“Why now?” Mido asked.
“‘Cause of Jessie,” Sam said.
“I don’t understand,” Cancer said. “What does she have to do with anything? Why are you even bothering with being her chauffeur?”
“He’s not,” Sam said. “There’s more to it. ‘Jessie’ is only her nickname. Her real name…” He gestured to me and let the unspeakable name hang in the air. The name wasn’t taboo. Wouldn’t bring down the wrath of the sea on us either. It simply didn’t give us fond memories.
“Amphitrite,” I said.
Cancer stared at me and paled. “She has the same name.”
“Her arrival means it’s time for a visit to our favorite cave. I have to bring her with me if I can convince her to stay.”
“You mean ‘with us,’” Rammus said. “No way we’re lettin’ you go it alone—or with just her.”
A particularly bad memory from long ago roiled around in my head. I’d been thinking about it on and off ever since Ted let slip the whole nickname thing. I’d never told any of them. It looked like I’d have to, but later. Right now it was too much at once. “I won’t pressure any of you to come. In fact, I advise all of you to stay on the boat when I go in the cave. It’ll be very dangerous. We didn’t have a girl last time. It’ll be very different this time. More dangerous.”
“We don’t care,” Rammus said. “All of us want to see you free of your curse.” The rest voiced their agreement.
Cancer said, “I’m sorry, Captain. I didn’t understand her importance. I’ll stop giving her a hard time.”
“That’s why you should never question my orders,” I said with a humorless grin. I’d tried to be funny, but the humor left my voice before I finished saying it. “But don’t apologize to me; apologize to her.”
The doc winced. “Fine. Maybe it’ll help things in the long run.”
“Can’t hurt.” I looked at their downcast faces. Yeah, I felt just as lousy as them. I wished I could hide in my lockdown container until the need to go to the cave passed, but that wasn’t possible. The cave was an unavoidable round of torture. “I need all of you to keep thing quiet for the next five days. Don’t tell those three about my curse and tell no one else about our impending trip to Australia. Just tell them I’m sick, which, in a roundabout way, is true.”
They all nodded.
“Just carry on as normal. Don’t give our new techies anything to worry about, and don’t tell Jacobi or Sauna about the trip. That’s no one’s job but mine. And keep on eye on Jacobi. Make sure he doesn’t go stir crazy.”
“And keep Jessie away from him,” Cancer said unhappily. “He’s been ranting, Captain.”
Well that’s just plain fantastic. “Great,” I said sarcastically. “Give him meds or something, and definitely keep her away from him. I’ll deal with him as soon as I can.”
“What if Jessie starts asking questions?” Mido asked.
“We’re still taking her to Cyprus.”
“Why?” Cancer asked. “It seems like a waste if you need her.”
“I’m not making a hostage of her.” I straightened up and grabbed the door latch. “If she doesn’t stay, then I’ll just have to go on without her.”
“But Amphitrite is so fickle,” Rammus said. “She might make you sail all the way back for her.”
“Then start making it hard for her to want to leave.” I glanced meaningfully at Mido. He nervously ran a hand through his hair and wore a faint guilty smile. I almost laughed. He hated being put on the spot like that. He didn’t mind talking about a one-night stand and such, but I could tell by the way he held himself while cooking that he’d taken to her. He’d trip over his own words if anyone asked him what he thought of the girl. “Anyway, you all survive my lockdowns on a monthly basis. You can survive this one, too.” I pulled the door open. “Rammus, lock me in. Everyone else go back to bed and get my curse off your minds. The more you dwell on it, the more likely you’ll slip up. Now good night and see you in five days.” I stepped inside and pulled the door closed with a clang, but not without seeing their solemn faces first. Recent funeral or not, having a girl named Amphitrite on board was eating at them. I didn’t blame them. In fact, I was grateful they were willing to go through all this for my sake.
Closing the door immersed me in the safety of total darkness. The boat’s rise and fall on the waves was my only clue as to what my external surroundings were.
Metal scuffing came from just the other side of the door as Rammus secured a lock on each door latch. Once everything fell silent, I limped to the cot that awaited me on the other end.
* * *
As soon as the container door closed, Jessie rushed down the stairs and back to her bunk, not wanting to further risk getting caught. She’d heard all of it—the curse, the cave, the person who shared her name—every last word.
She’d followed them because she was worried they were plotting a way to keep her on the ship for less than gentlemanly reasons. They were all men. How could she trust them, especially when Dyne hadn’t tried to wake her, Ed, or Ted? She understood why now, but had no intention of saying anything until she got all
her facts straight.
She’d been right about them wanting to keep her aboard, but not the reason behind it. The whole conversation had been so bizarre. She’d almost pushed the door wider when Cancer apologized to Dyne about how he’d treated her. Not one of her offenders had ever expressed remorse for hurting her, much less scaring her and making her feel even more inferior, like Cancer had.
Jessie slowed her flight to a silent prowl when she reached the hall where the cabins lay. Gentle snoring and a white noise machine gave her movements some cover. She pulled off and lined up her boots with Ed’s and Ted’s, then slipped into the bottom bunk, doing her best to rustle and thump as little as possible. She’d taken the bottom bunk so the two techies could sleep closer together. Ed and Ted had gone to sleep both nights while holding hands, Ed on his belly up top, and Ted on his back in the middle, their fingers intertwined until they nodded off. It was a sweet sight. She found herself almost wishing for the same companionship.
Maybe one day. Right now it was too soon, the nightmares too common, and her insides too raw.
Soft footsteps made their way to the cabins. Jessie pinched the curtain and parted it a crack. Black silhouettes interrupted the orange glow from the night lights that lined the walls along the floor and ceiling. Low voices bade each other good night, and a silhouette with Mido’s voice stopped outside her doorway. She couldn’t make out his face but she recognized the curvature of his arms and shoulders, and the outline of his close-cropped hair. He ran a hand through it, then checked down the hall.
