by S. M. Welles
The crew laughed, talked, and teased each other. It was a perfectly normal dinner with the crew going on as normal, as if all the crap my curse had put them through was nothing. It was a wonderful sight. I quietly listened to their stories and banter, and joined in when it was prudent, including a need to come to my defense that my scars hadn’t scared away the ladies. In fact, she’d been intrigued by them.
In all, I couldn’t have asked for a better last meal with them as their captain.
The crew sat and talked long after the meal was gone. Jessie and Mido washed dishes and served us all some coffee and chocolate chip cookies made from scratch. Once everyone had their fill and the techies headed to the engine room, the cargo pushers headed to their cabins to wind down and get some rest. I gave Rammus a meaningful glance, then headed to the wheelhouse.
The stars shined away overhead, with the waxing moon making the ocean sparkle like there were millions of sprites dancing on the rolling surface. The wind was light and the atmosphere peaceful. I slid a few windows open and left the door wide, then check my compass and our course. We were still on track.
Rammus’s heavy footsteps slowly clunked up the stairs, then he appeared in the doorway and stopped, his gaze serious. I gestured for him to take a seat in the chair. He wordlessly obeyed. I leaned against a window frame and stuck my hands in my coat pockets.
“I think I know why you called me up here, Captain.”
“Are you ready for me to step down?”
“Are you?”
“I’ve lived on the sea since I was fifteen,” I said calmly. I was more than happy to step down and let Rammus take over. I felt at peace with myself and the world. It was the right thing to hand the crew over now. “I became a skipper at age twenty five, bought my first boat at age thirty, and lost my first crew at age forty five, along with got cursed. Since then, I’ve watched the world fall and rise, dozens of people I’ve cared about die, helped keep cargo shipping alive and well enough, and provided so many people with lifelong careers under me. I’ve been around for almost two hundred and seventy eight years. I’m ready to retire.”
“What will you do?”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t think retirement suits you, Captain.”
“Neither does remaining skipper.”
“That doesn’t leave you with much else.”
I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “Don’t worry. I’m not abandoning you and the rest of the crew. I’ll figure something out.”
Rammus looked at his lap and swallowed.
“I’ve been around a long time,” I said quietly. “A really long time. If anything, I’ll stick around and just relax and enjoy life. It’s something I’ve forgotten to do all these years.” After Delilah, I felt like I didn’t have it in me to give love any more tries. I’d loved many women over the centuries and that was enough. It wasn’t perfect but it was enough.
He nodded. “When do you want me to take over?”
“Right now, actually.”
“If you’re dead set on it, then consider it done, Ca—uh, sir. Or Dyne.”
“Alan. My name is Alan. Alan Lavere. I’ve changed my name a few times over the centuries to avoid questions about my longevity. You can call me Alan or Dyne. It doesn’t matter.”
“I’ll stick with Dyne. It’s what I’m a little more used to.”
“Fair enough.” I had no preference. I’d forgotten my given name for so long. Watching my home get rebuilt had stirred up the memory banks. I looked around the wheelhouse. “Let’s announce your promotion to the crew so I can get started on the paperwork and get everything put in your name.”
He slid off the chair. “Sure thing, Ca—darn it. This is going to take some getting used to.”
“I apologize in advance for every time I still respond to ‘Captain.’” I said lightly.
* * *
The crew took the announcement well. It was bittersweet. They were all happy for Rammus, yet sad to see me step down. I watched Sauna’s reaction carefully. He listened with a serious gaze, his eyes full of sadness at first, but then he began to watch Rammus as he had me. Rammus was in the seat of power now. Sauna would gravitate towards that. Sam looked sad as well, since he was the only one who knew about my selfish wants that were no longer there. I took him aside after the announcement and put his worries to rest. However, I did admit to feeling ready to go, yet was prepared to live out however many more years I had left in me to the fullest, if I had to.
The next night the crew threw a retirement party, complete with cake and cheeseburgers. The crew got me good right after my first bite of the best meal on earth. Scully, who was manning the wheelhouse, called everyone to arms for a pirate sighting. I cursed up a storm as I led the crew’s mad dash onto deck, only to find a bunch of boxes laid out on the bow and no pirates in sight. Scully set off all the fireworks and Mido handed me my cheeseburger. I savored every bite as I enjoyed all the pretty explosions.
Once the last explosive was spent, Jessie and Mido brought up the cake that was decorated to both celebrate my retirement and Rammus’s promotion. He and I cut each other slices from opposite corners and exchanged the slices. Then, right as I put two and two together as Ed and Ted stood behind us, they reached for our paper plates and mashed the slices in our faces. Once our initial shock subsided, it became a two captains versus one crew food fight. Handfuls of cake filled the air like confetti, and Sam took pictures of everyone once we all ran out of ammo.
I thoroughly enjoyed my retirement party.
* * *
Newport more or less came and went. We dropped off the huge shipment with the help of the military, had nothing to pick up and no place to stay, except my half-built house, so we pushed off the same day, chartered for Port Chesapeake. My house-in-progress had gained its familiar box shape, the outlines of windows, and a central flight of stairs and such. It was heartening to see. It left me feeling happy, able to let go of all that’d happened. It was time to move on.
I’d thought of settling there but I knew I couldn’t do it once I saw the place. The sea was my home. Had been ever since I’d left the house. But even with knowing I couldn’t settle there, I felt like my stay on the Pertinacious was steadily reaching its conclusion. Wasn’t sure how to explain it; just knew both house and ship weren’t my retirement homes. Knew it in my gut. As far as what I should do, I wasn’t sure. I’d developed a habit of spending time after dinner staring out over the stern, watching the sea, as if staring long enough would give me my answer.
* * *
Once Jessie and Mido finished cleaning up the galley, they headed out on deck for some fresh air and a stroll, since the cabins were full of ears. Sure Rammus or Scully would see them from the wheelhouse, and sometimes Ed and Ted joined their walks for the fun of it. The two were always enjoyable company, but tonight it was just the two of them. Shortly into their first lap, they spotted Dyne staring out over the stern, which he’d been doing a lot as of late. They usually left him be but tonight there was something about the way he braced his hands on the railing that gave Jessie pause. She led Mido over, then let go of his arm and stood beside Dyne, bracing her hands on the railing as well.
He glanced at her and smiled. “Back where we first met, but with our positions a bit reversed. Do you remember that day?”
“Somewhat,” she said. “I still cringe every time I remember oaring poor Scully in the head.”
He smirked. “I’d forgotten about that.”
“So why do you keep coming out here every night all of the sudden?”
“For thinking,” he said. “I’ve spent so many years being so focused on lifting my curse. Now that that’s done… I dunno. I’m so indebted to you. I’m not sure how to put it into words.”
“Then don’t try to. Just be happy.”
He nodded. “I can do that.” He looked back out over the darkened ocean.
“Well, I’ll leave you to just being happy.” Jessie turned to leave but a
swish on the surface gave her pause. A stream of water rose up above the stern and spread into the shape of a woman with long, wavy hair. At first Jessie thought it was Amphitrite, but then she recognized who it was.
“Rhode,” Dyne breathed, his mouth ajar.
Rhode stood before them on the water, larger than life and emanating an otherworldly glow. “Sweet Dyne, I’m so pleased to see your curse lifted at last.”
“I never thought I’d get to see you again.”
“I heard your soul calling to the sea, so I answered.” Rhode glanced at Jessie, then spoke to Dyne. “Your soul is weary.” She held out a glowing hand. “Come. It’s time for you to rest a while, ye whose heart has been claimed by the sea.”
Dyne’s face softened into serene happiness. He took a glowing finger and kissed it lovingly, then turned to Jessie. “Thank you. For everything.”
A lump formed in Jessie’s throat and her eyes stung. She held her arms out and he pulled her into a gentle hug.
“Take good care of yourself. And keep up the good work guarding the crew and feeding them.”
“I will,” she said in a tight whisper.
He let go and turned to Mido. They clasped hands and wrapped each other in a one-armed hug. “Take good care of yourself and each other. And thank you for sticking by me all these years.”
“It was a pleasure, Captain—er, Dyne.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He stepped back. “Just keep up the great work. Make me proud.” He put a hand on the railing and watched them expectantly. Rhode stood near the railing, a hand on Dyne’s back. Both of them looked serene, so at peace.
Jessie’s throat tightened further as she realized what they were waiting for. She tried to say “let’s go, Mido” but the words wouldn’t come out. She clasped his hand and led him away, walking slowly and checking over her shoulder once. Dyne and Rhode patiently waited for them to depart.
She made herself go back to looking ahead, filled with a need to run back to Dyne and latch her arms around him. She didn’t want to let happen what she had a feeling was about to take place. It just couldn’t. Not so suddenly. Not to the man who’d given her the best gift in the world.
Once they reached the lockdown container, Jessie felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. She paused, putting a hand on Mido’s chest.
“What is it?”
Jessie whipped around. The stern was empty. Tears blurred her vision as she stared at where Dyne and Rhode had just been. She clung to Mido’s arm as her brain tried to register that Dyne was gone. And once it finally did, her knees gave out and she began crying. Mido sank to the deck with her, holding her tight and crying as well.
* * *
Jessie, Mido, and Rammus, who’d watched the whole thing from the wheelhouse, delivered the news of Dyne’s passing to everyone while gathered in the galley. Over the next few days, the entire crew mourned his passing before collecting themselves enough to hold a sailor’s funeral. They thought of holding it off until they returned to Newport or some other meaningful coast, but they all agreed it really didn’t matter where, since all the oceans were connected.
The first day after Dyne’s passing, O’Toole hid in the cargo hold, crying, then one day jumped off the bow. Jacobi dived after him, and the two were soon hoisted back aboard. Sam calmed the Irishman down enough to get him to stop trying to jump back overboard, but not enough to stop crying. Discussion on what to do with O’Toole cropped up, since his role was rather enigmatic. In the end, Sam decided he wanted to keep O’Toole around and continue to take care of him. He was like a son in a way, to him, one that never grew up. Plus it was because of Dyne that O’Toole ever set foot aboard the Pertinacious in the first place.
They had an honorary cheeseburger dinner in his name and swapped some of their favorite stories about him, and even talked about how Dyne had positively impacted each of their lives. The stories lifted everyone’s spirits, even Jessie’s. She was still sore about seeing Dyne and Rhode one minute, and then an empty stern the next. But she understood why he’d wanted to die in private. Souls had a tendency to cross when no one was looking.
Once talk had gone on long enough, they gathered on the starboard side of the stern. Sam handed out the percussion equipment, Jessie stood by the steel chest, sitting open and ready to accept their offerings. O’Toole hovered near her, quiet and subdued. Rammus stood on the other side of the chest, book of poems in hand and open to a choice page. Sam stood at the end of the line of drummers, a pair of bamboo sticks in hand.
Rammus took a deep breath. “This night is dedicated to Alan Lavere, better known as Dyne Lavere, and to all as Captain. Born July twelfth, 2135. Died many a time after. Finally found rest and peace on June sixth, 2413. He will be sorely missed.” The crew beat out a short rhythm and fell silent. Rammus took a carved object out of his jacket, then cleared his throat. The carving looked like a koi fish. “I’d liked to read ‘We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths’ by Phillip James Bailey.”
Jacobi tapped out four beats, and the drumming began. It rose and fell with each line, like last time, ebbing and flowing like waves on a beach.
“We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths;
In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives
Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.”
Sam stepped away from the railing and deposited his offering in the chest: a bottle of whiskey. He handed O’Toole a leather-bound journal that’d been worn smooth with frequent handling. Sam whispered, “All good men have good mysteries about their lives. Drink loosened your tongue a few times, and I found your journals while cleaning out your drawers, Dyne. May whatever tales are in those pages rest in peace with your soul.” He walked back over and rejoined the drumming.
Rammus added his koi fish carving. “To one of the strongest men I ever knew.”
Sauna, Ed, and Ted threw in photos and two pairs of shorts with the parts that were supposed to cover the cheeks cut out. Ed said, “We’ll miss you, curse and all.”
“But especially grabbing your ass,” Ted added. “Your reactions were always priceless.”
Sauna said, “Thank you for being like a father to me, Captain.” The trio returned to the railing.
“And he whose heart beats quickest lives the longest:
Lives in one hour more than in years do some
Whose fat blood sleeps as it slips along their veins.”
Cancer added a bag of blood and a wedding band. “For saving you from a needless death, and for the rich life at sea you gave me, and for all I was able to give to my family.”
Jacobi added a folded up piece of paper and an empty gun holster. “A heartfelt apology for all the crap I made you put up with. You always treated me well and put me in my place when I needed it.”
Scully added ten arrows. “For all the enemy ships you had me sink with the Harpy. You taught me to step up to the plate and take on responsibilities I never thought I could handle.”
“Life’s but a means unto an end; that end,
Beginning, mean, and end to all things—God.
The dead have all the glory of the world.”
Mido came over and added carefully-wrapped food, one item a cheeseburger and the the other a whole pie of broccoli and mushroom quiche. “It was a pleasure cooking for you. May you eat cheeseburgers to your heart’s content wherever you are now.” He returned to the railing.
The crew still drumming away, Jessie added the spare lockdown container keys and her studded sparring gloves. “For helping me become strong enough to help others, and for giving me the best gift in the whole world.” She glanced at a smiling Mido. “May you find peace and joy wherever you are now.” She closed and locked the chest. Sam detached a section of railing and set it aside, then joined Jessie and Rammus in sliding the chest to the gap. The three of them paused at the edge, waiting for the drumming to conclude. The boys finished with a flourish
, and then the pushed the chest over the side.
Water in the shape of a giant hand and sleeved arm shot out of the water and caught the chest. The hand lifted it higher, over their heads, and more water rose and filled out the shape of a man wearing a trench coat. Dyne. He tucked the chest under a giant watery arm and looked at all of them in turn. He smiled and gave an informal salute, then poured back into the sea, taking the chest with him.
An excerpt from Strength by S.M Welles now available here:
Strength (Aigis Trilogy, Book 1)
Chapter 1
The Glass Bottle
That’s it. I can’t stand it any longer. Roxie snuck up the basement stairs and crouched so she could peer through the gap between the door and wood flooring. The plan had been to wait until at least eleven, but she ran out of pen caps after chewing up a fifth one. She narrowed her eyes against the air flowing through the gap and searched for her grandmother, whom she hoped had gone to bed a little early. Roxie didn’t want to be told yet again, her grandmother’s eyes rolling skyward, “Rox, you’re not an alien.” She knew she wasn’t an alien, but from age six to somewhere around eight or nine, she had been thoroughly convinced she was one. Now seventeen, the “alien” idea had cropped back up as a half-serious, half-joking explanation for her latest odd behavior: a compulsion to travel a specific southeasterly route through her home city of Buffalo, New York.
The nightly news delivered its latest story and the living room was dimly lit, two signs to turn around, go back downstairs, and wait until later. But maybe the TV would mask the sound of an opening and closing door. Roxie shifted to one side of the gap and searched for a pair of slippers framed by the coffee table in front of the couch.
