Galleon

by CJ Williams

  “That is an unauthorized space,” Alyssa replied and would not elaborate further.

  Gus had asked the same question and gotten an identical response each time, no matter how he rephrased his inquiry. There were several such areas on the ship; small, secret, walled-off spaces that he assumed had something to do with her claim of space travel.

  “Come on,” Gus said, “let’s get some supplies.” The last time Gus had visited the ship, he’d only taken a few metal dishes from the galley. But now with the girls here, he had more hands to carry stuff back to the camp.

  *.*.*.*

  Kyoko followed Gus to the forecastle. He showed her the modest wood-fired stove built into a metal countertop. It had one burner on the top. The cupboards contained a variety of cooking implements, too much to carry all at once, but Kyoko gathered up an armload of utensils.

  Exploring down in the hold, he discovered a low doorframe that led into a room under the prow. Inside were built-in lockers. The storage area had no windows and was not quite so filled with dirt as the rest of the ship. He opened a locker and caught his breath at the sight. It was full of new sails.

  He pulled a tightly wrapped bundle out for inspection. The material was dry and sound. For a moment he thought again about restoring the vessel and sailing it out of the lagoon. With real sails, he could take Alyssa up on her promise to get back to Earth. His imagination created pictures of the Alyssa under sail with himself at the wheel. After a moment of daydreaming, he scolded himself to be realistic.

  A ship this size would need a crew of thirty or forty men. An old man and a couple of foolish girls could never take such a massive ship out to sea. The impractical idea faded away. In reality, the ship was permanently beached on the ancient lava flow, and besides, he would find plenty of other uses for the canvas-like material. He pushed the bundle back into the locker with a sigh.

  Kyoko edged her way into the cramped area. “What did you find?” she asked. “Oh, I see. Sails. Do you think they would work?”

  “Not at the moment,” Gus replied wistfully. “Not unless we can get this old tub floated.”

  *.*.*.*

  He returned to the gun deck for a closer look at the large open area, almost the length of the ship. The mainmast divided it into fore-and-aft sections. In the larger aft section were eight cannons, four on each side. They filled the space with a menacing aura. One of these days he would take some time and shoot one off.

  The gun deck also served as the crew’s living space. Ring bolts and tie-downs protruded from every beam, ready to sling hammocks. Along the hull were small lockers filled with tightly rolled bundles of shipboard bedding.

  Toward the stern, directly below the ship’s wheel up on the quarterdeck, a set of cables dropped down and connected to a gear assembly that drove the tiller sweep. Horizontally mounted ropes ran overhead to a slot in the transom that controlled the rudder.

  In between were quarters for the midshipmen and warrant officers, and behind those, at the very back, was the ship’s surgery. Bracketed to the walls were ancient medical instruments, one of them being a horrible-looking saw. A table no larger than the lid of a coffin served as the infirmary’s operating theater. A sturdy cabinet built into the corner contained more modern surgical tools, another example of the vessel’s mixture of old and new. He gathered up a few bandages and other non-perishable medical supplies to supplement the first aid kit from Nineteen’s supplies.

  5 – Getting Settled

  “Time is an illusion, but the illusion is about to run out.”

  (Zenyatta)

  Gus learned how to fish after a fashion. The lifeboat’s survival gear included a zippered pouch with two spools of fishing line, one monofilament and one braided. It also contained floats and hooks. Each morning he put out a couple of poles.

  In the freezing shallows near the water’s edge, he stacked the rocks into stone walls to augment the shallow tide pools.

  He also experimented with wicker traps, weaving reeds and green branches into baskets with inverted funnels that fish could swim into but not out of. Between his baited poles, the tide pools, and the traps he provided a catch almost every morning.

  Never well versed in the intricacies of fishing, to Gus all fish looked the same. Kyoko; however, proved knowledgeable about what tasted good and how to prepare it. Already proficient in oriental cooking and herb lore, she searched the jungle every day for fresh fruit and vegetables. She discovered wild onions that added spice to their food and yams of a sort that she baked, fried, and mashed trying to make them edible. The girls loved the varieties of squash that Kyoko discovered, but a curly orange tuber made Gus sick for two days. She scratched it from her growing menu.

  Other experiments were more successful. One of Kyoko’s self-imposed chores included gathering what she called breadfruit. With a metal chisel and mallet, she made a gristmill by hollowing a nine-inch bowl out of a large, flat rock. Then she shaped a smooth stone into a pestle to grind the dried breadfruit pulp into a coarse flour.

  She created a mushy dough by mixing it with the clear liquid from coconut-like fruits that grew in tall palm trees around the jungle’s edge. She pan-fried the mixture into flat, vegetable-tasting biscuits. Gus carefully managed to be present when she took the batch from the skillet and offered to test the first one.

  “Grandfather, slow down,” Kyoko exclaimed, alarmed when he stuffed the first one down almost whole. “At least take a moment to taste it. They are quite difficult to make.”

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “These are really good.”

  She added biscuits to their daily menu, carefully rationing the breadfruit so they wouldn’t run out.

  *.*.*.*

  Hannah wanted to set sail for Paldae Island immediately. Each day Alyssa’s presence presented her with a potential solution for their return to Earth, but it was just out of reach. When she complained, Gus told her to have a good trip and write back when she got home.

  She ignored the sarcasm. Instead, with true German fortitude, she spent days on the vessel cleaning away the centuries of accumulated dirt and grime. She started at the top of the mainmast and worked her way down to the deck. She did the same for the foremast and the mizzen. After that came the decks and railings.

  When the exterior was spotless, she moved inside, going from one room to another. She turned the two officers’ berths into feminine bedrooms and the midshipmen’s quarters, aft of the gun deck, into comfortable bunk rooms. She planned to leave the captain’s cabin dirty, but when Kyoko came by one afternoon and discovered the situation she got angry.

  “Why are you so mean to Grandfather?” Kyoko scolded.

  “Because he’s mean to me!” Hannah said offhandedly. “And you know it.”

  “Don’t be childish,” Kyoko said. “You clean Grandfather’s room until it shines or you can prepare your own meals from now on.”

  Hannah gave in with quiet protest. Not being a cook herself, it put her at a disadvantage. Besides, she appreciated that Kyoko took care of those duties.

  But Kyoko wanted more. “You can also start gathering firewood. You’re not doing anything for our family day-to-day.”

  That was too much for Hannah. “That old man is not my family!”

  “He is mine,” Kyoko declared. “I never had a grandfather before. And on this island, you are my sister. That means while we’re here, we’re all family. Start acting like it!”

  *.*.*.*

  The next morning Hannah took one of the axes into the jungle and selected a two-foot-diameter tree for her first firewood-gathering chore. After spitting in both palms, she hefted the ax and carefully swung it against the trunk. A tiny sliver flew into the air, spinning away into the vegetation. She looked at the mark closely.

  She had barely dented the bark. It would take more of a swing to make any progress. She lay the ax across her shoulder like a baseball bat and set her feet firmly on the ground. With all of her strength she gave a powerful swing…and missed the tree comp
letely. The ax flew out of her hands out into the jungle and neatly decapitated a young sapling.

  Her first reaction was of fright. A flying ax could do a lot of damage, especially if someone had been in the way. Then embarrassment; she looked around to make sure the others hadn’t seen. Finally, she grew angry, mostly with the tree, but also with herself. This was ridiculous. Surely, she could chop down one stupid tree.

  She retrieved the ax and took a couple of practice swings. Once satisfied she was standing close enough and that her aim was true, she again swung a mighty blow. The ax rotated slightly in her hands, and the blunt edge dented the bark a half-foot above her intended target. By late afternoon she had cut only a quarter of the way through the trunk. Her arms ached terribly, and she was getting a blister on her right palm.

  Gus found her laboring away and gingerly removed the ax from her possession. “I’ll get the firewood,” he said. “You just keep working on Alyssa. I like what you’re doing on the ship.”

  *.*.*.*

  Armed with real tools from the galleon, Gus spent his afternoons working on the new shelter. It was a simple structure, and when he finished he had an island-style hut that measured fifteen feet by twenty and included his much-desired front porch.

  Kyoko added her touch by using parachute material to make privacy curtains for the sleeping areas at each end. Gus moved the table from the officers’ mess and three chairs to serve as their dining set.

  He used stones to build an oven in the front yard with a small, wood-fired cooking chamber. The iron grate from Alyssa’s galley stove topped it off. As the last touch, he made three beach chairs for the front porch.

  Kyoko prepared a housewarming dinner of flat biscuits, reconstituted beef stew, and grilled fish to celebrate their move-in. Gus and Hannah started to chow down, but Kyoko stopped them.

  “Wait! Just because I don’t have my Bible anymore doesn’t mean we can’t say grace for our meal. Now that we have a real home it’s time we start acting civilized.” She ordered everyone to bow their heads while she gave thanks for the new hut and their food.

  Before they went to sleep that evening, Gus dug into one of the side pockets of his backpack. “Take this,” he told Kyoko, withdrawing a small scripture. “I can’t read it anyway without my glasses.”

  *.*.*.*

  As the first month passed, Gus marked each day on a calendar he had made for the hut. Kyoko noted that Christmas was only a week away.

  In his humbug manner, Gus said, “I don’t want us to spend a lot of money on Christmas presents this year. It’s getting too commercial.”

  The girls laughed at his jest, but Hannah’s giggles suddenly turned to sobs and tears streamed down her face.

  “Es tut mir Leid,” she cried apologetically. I’m sorry.

  Kyoko comforted her friend and explained to the flummoxed Gus. “She was planning a big Christmas with her parents.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. He hadn’t meant to start the waterworks. “Why don’t we make a holiday video for everyone,” he suggested. “Let them know we’re doing okay and send Christmas wishes.”

  Kyoko translated the offer, and after a moment Hannah cheered up. She brushed away the tears and said, “Ich mag die Idee.” I like the idea.

  Strangely, Gus suddenly felt the pressure of long ago family holidays when dozens of people gathered at their home for Christmas and Thanksgiving. Carol always assumed the responsibility of making sure everyone had the perfect holiday but during the run-up, most of the associated angst transferred directly to him. He began to regret his suggestion.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Kyoko said perceptively. “It’s just the three of us. We won’t make it a big deal.”

  For the rest of the evening, the girls made plans for the celebration. They wanted it to be perfect.

  *.*.*.*

  The next morning Kyoko stayed under the covers and watched Gus leave the hut. His slumped shoulders and quiet movements meant he was already worried about their holiday plans.

  She decided to do something special for their Christmas dinner. Once Hannah left the house for chores of her own, Kyoko tidied up and went into the jungle, determined to find a new treat. There had to be an alien vegetable she hadn’t yet tried.

  Her hopes rose when she found a grove of medium-sized trees about twenty feet high with long, shiny leaves. They had clusters of twelve-inch oval pods that were a dark reddish-brown in color. The pods grew right out of the trunks and were firm to the touch. She pulled one down and pried it open.

  Inside were purplish, almond-shaped beans that smelled of chocolate. “Excellent!” she whispered excitedly.

  She kept the cocoa trees a secret. For two days she gathered beans, storing them in the old lean-to near the spa; it had become her larder.

  A metal cauldron rescued from the galleon served to dry them in the oven. She watched closely as they heated, stirring them several times until they hardened and turned a dark brown.

  When the beans cooled, she shelled them and mashed the resulting nibs into a paste with her mortar and pestle. It was thick and slightly bitter but very deliciously chocolate.

  On Christmas Eve, she mixed the cocoa butter with some of her breadfruit flour, added a banana and coconut water, and poured the mixture into the iron pot. She let it bake in the stone oven for twenty minutes. The aroma was perfect, just like a dark chocolate cake from home. After waiting for it to cool she turned the pot upside down, and it was ready to serve.

  She finished the grilled fish and garnished the meal with melon slices. Gus and Hannah arrived from the galleon just as she was finishing.

  “Wash up,” she told them, “and be quick about it. I’ve got something special for dinner tonight.”

  *.*.*.*

  “What’s she up to?” Gus asked as they cleaned up at the spa.

  Hannah shrugged. “Ich weiss es nicht.” I don’t know.

  Gus didn’t really care. He was in a good mood. So far, the day had gone well. Hannah had been on good behavior at the galleon. She took the chore of cleaning very seriously, frequently urging that they all move aboard.

  Gus was not ready to go that far. Instead, he let the idea of repair percolate through his mind. The job was such a mammoth undertaking that he wanted to understand precisely what it would entail and that collectively they could handle the task. The biggest obstacle was just moving the boat into the water. Until that happened, everything else was wasted effort.

  After washing up, Gus and Hannah walked into the hut together. Kyoko had set the handiphone on a tripod and put a small evergreen against the back wall. She had even decorated the tree with little handmade grass and wicker ornaments.

  The surprise was on the table. The fish was laid out with more care than usual, but in the center was a chocolate cake, and the chocolately aroma filled the air. Kyoko kissed Gus on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, Grandfather,” she said. She gave Hannah a kiss too and a big hug. “Frohe Weihnachten, kleine Schwester.” Merry Christmas, little sister.

  Kyoko made all of them stand in front of the camera so they could each send Christmas greetings back home. Gus went first. It was awkward with the girls watching. He tried to keep his holiday wishes generic but still got a little choked up, thinking of Carol in their home, wondering if he would ever return.

  Both of the girls started brightly but grew tearful while sending their own messages. Gus tried to pay respectful attention to their efforts, but it was painfully apparent to those on the other end of the conversation that Gus’s attention was primarily focused on the chocolate cake.

  “All right now,” Kyoko said when Hannah finished. She pushed everyone to their chairs saying, “Eat. Before it gets cold.”

  She wouldn’t let Gus have dessert first, so he wolfed down the fish and then had to wait on the others while they ate daintily. He picked up his mug and took a sip of the reconstituted coffee from their survival rations.

  He grinned at the satisfactory hint of cocoa. He sipped it slowly and clo
sed his eyes, enjoying long-forgotten sensations. What he wouldn’t give for a mocha from Starbucks.

  “Drink up,” Kyoko remarked. “There’s lots more of the chocolate powder. As much as you want.”

  Gus finished the mug in one gulp and held it out with a hopeful expression. Hannah snorted in amusement while Kyoko filled it to the top.

  Finally, Kyoko cut the cake into thirds, putting the slices on clean pewter plates. “This is your Christmas present,” she said.

  That was Gus’s cue. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two small boxes no bigger than his palm. He had wrapped them in green leaves and used red vines for bows. “I found these for you guys in the captain’s chest. I hope you like them.”

  Their eyes lit up. Inside the wrappings were little wooden boxes with silver clasps and matching hinges. Kyoko opened hers carefully. It was a tiny golden cross on a delicate chain. She held her breath and gently drew it out of the box. It was exquisite—a cross framed by a graceful filigree of gold and silver. Gus didn’t know if the Acevedos cross represented a religious connotation or if the jewelry symbolized something else entirely, but Kyoko took her Christian upbringing seriously.

  Hannah helped her fasten it behind her neck. Once it was secure, she held it up, turning it to reflect the last rays of sunlight.

  “Grandfather, it’s beautiful,” she said.

  Hannah’s gift was much the same. Rather than a cross, the pendant was a stylized bird. Gus thought it had the flavor of the black eagle on a German coat of arms.

  Hannah crooned with pleasure and kissed him quickly on his cheek. “Danke, Opa.” Thank you, Grandpa. She ran outside and returned a moment later with two small, portrait-like wood carvings, one of Gus, the other of Kyoko.

  “These are exceptional,” Gus said, surprised by Hannah’s unexpected skill. After more thank-yous, Kyoko prompted everyone to eat their dessert.

  Finally, Gus thought silently.

  *.*.*.*

  The set of Studio 37 was decorated for Christmas. A fir tree in the background was heavily laden with ornaments, lights, and garland. On the video backdrop, the scene of Gus and the girls waving to the camera faded away to be replaced by a graphic image that read, Grandfather Watch – Day 79.