To Ocean's End (9 page)

Jessie’s stomach churned. She didn’t want to talk about it but she didn’t see the point in not explaining things. Even though none of them were a threat to her, it was still hard to talk about what happened. She felt like soiled and damaged goods, less of a woman, dirty, a reject, refuse. She’d been taken and abused in ways no woman should ever experience. What decent guy would want to bother with her now? She took a deep breath and summarized her last two years with Tethys, doing her best to not use the “r-word” to describe events.

Everyone fell silent. Ed squeezed her reassuringly.

Ted said, “Hun, you need to get up so I can hug you.”

Ed released her and gave her an encouraging nudge. She’d been so comfy and cozy, however she wouldn’t deny her new friend a hug. She slipped off the bunk. Ted picked her up in a hug and lifted her feet off the ground. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight. She felt a fresh wave tears wanting out, but she held them down. This treatment was overwriting her expectation that no one would want to touch her ever again. Ted set her down.

Mido looked at her with sympathy wrinkling his brow. He held out his arms. “You don’t have to if it’d make you too uncomfortable, but I’d love to give you a hug as well.”

Jessie hesitated. She took in his broad chest and strong arms, his gentle eyes and handsome face. All of it reminded her of all the crap she’d been through. Still, this was a different ship with a different captain and a totally different atmosphere. She tentatively reached for him and took a step forward, then another. A third brought them terrifyingly close. Mido tried to reach his arms around but stopped when she whimpered. Her eyes welled with tears.

Mido said, “Need me to stop?” No anger or frustration was in his expression or voice. Instead he radiated empathy.

“Please.”

Jessie backed into Ted and he wrapped her in his arms. He said, “I still see their potential. We’ll give it time.”

Dyne appeared in the doorway. “Is everyone more or less alright?”

“Yeah, we got this, Captain.”

“Alright then. Carry on.” He turned around and left.

Mido cleared his throat, then spoke to everyone. “I gotta go. I was only stopping by to drop off your stuff. We’ve got two crew members to cremate before the storm rolls in. Jessie, remember: nickname only. And don’t let stupid get to you. We’ve got your back.” He smirked. “Especially if you’re busy being our bodyguard.”

“Bodyguard?” Ed said.

Mido pointed to the bruise on his cheek. “This is from her,” he said with a guilty grin.

Ted said, “How many of you did she beat up?”

“Just me, Dyne, and Scully, and she sucker-punched Sauna.” Ed and Ted laughed. “All in one day.” The two laughed harder.

“What a hoot!” Ed said, getting up.

Mido bid them farewell as he headed off.

“How did you land that job?” Ted asked.

“I haven’t actually accepted it yet.”

Ed said, “You should! You’d be great. We’d love to have you as our bodyguard.”

“Not everyone feels that way.”

“Oh don’t worry about them. Captain Dyne looks like he’s got good control of his crew. You’ll do great.”

Even with her new friends and their encouragement, she still wasn’t sure. It’d be nice to feel useful for more reasons than having a vagina, but body-guarding a strange group of men? She  guessed she could survive doing the job long enough to pay off her boots and clothes. “I’ll think about it. Let me get used to the idea.”

*     *     *

I headed to the galley for a pretzel snack. I needed something crunchy to work off my stress. Seeing Mido and Jessie had been great but it didn’t change the fact that chewing out the head dockworker had been a waste of time. Lawsuits and such weren’t worth the effort for skippers like me. I’d make less money trying to win a case than if I’d stick to my delivery schedule. I was better off never touching this dock again.

Mido caught up with me as I was perusing the pantry full of slow-to-expire snacks. “Captain,” he called out, then lowered his voice. “Is there anyone else around?”

“No. Everyone’s on the docks collecting pellets or helping Cancer.”

Mido joined me in the pantry. “I just wanted to warn you that Jessie told Ed and Ted her real name.”

“Did they--?”

“No. No one knows about your curse but those of us who’ve been with you a while. So that makes everyone but those three. I warned her to use her nickname. I lied to her, though. Said her name gave rise to superstition.”

“You only partially lied.”

Mido took a deep breath and exhaled. “Right. I’ve got your back no matter what. I want you to be free of your curse as much as you do.”

“I appreciate it. I’m taking her to Cyprus; however, we need to find a way to convince her to stay. I can’t in good conscience hold her hostage like Tethys.”

“I understand. How long do you think you’ll wait until you tell Jessie and the others?”

I knew he meant telling them about my curse. “I’d rather wait until the last minute, but I think we have a better chance of Hell nuking itself to pieces. I’m pretty sure questions will be flying after my next lockdown.”

*     *     *

Jersey and Mike were cremated and returned to us in jars by dinnertime. Mido and I did the honors of carrying our fallen comrades back to the ship. We didn’t speak the entire trip back.

There were burger joints all over the port but I was too depressed to grab one.

Shortly after we returned to the ship, Mido started on dinner and I navigated us out to sea under a cloudy sunset. Our departure gave me one less worry, but only one, and the smallest one to boot. The hurricane was nothing compared to the dissent Jacobi and Jessie would cause. Every last one of my crew was loyal to me, even Jacobi. However, they all had their breaking points.

*     *     *

Rammus was on the wheel while I joined my crew to dinner. Mido had cooked up penne noodles with garlic butter sauce, herb-roasted chicken chopped up and thrown in, spinach, sun-dried tomatoes, and mozzarella cheese. Jacobi was confined to his bunk for at least a week, so meals would be peaceful for a while. Cancer acted like his usual quiet self. He’d even politely nodded to Jessie and said “madam” when they crossed paths on the way to the galley. It was clear he wanted nothing to do with her, so he was going about his business as if she wasn’t there, and without going out of his way to be rude or spread his dislike to others. More than good enough.

Everyone but Jessie, Mido, and O’Toole were seated at the table. Ed and Ted had tried to coax her and her fold-up chair over but she’d firmly declined.

“I’m not ready,” she admitted. I admired her courage to admit that much. “However, Captain, I’ll take the job.”

“Very good. Welcome to the
Pertinacious
.”

Ed and Ted high-fived and I saw Mido grinning away over a huge tray of toasted bread. He’d turned an entire loaf into cheesy garlic bread.

“What job?” Cancer asked politely, then took a sip of coffee.

“Bodyguard,” I said.

The doc barely managed to swallow his sip before going into a coughing fit. Sam and Sauna patted his back until he caught his breath. “That’s a new one,” he said. He raised an eyebrow at Jessie.

Scully said, “Just give her an oar and we’ll all be plenty safe.”

Everyone but Cancer, Jessie, and I laughed. Cancer pursued his lips and shrugged.

Scully said, “Aw, lighten up, doc.”

He let out an old man grunt. My men laughed again, then let him be.

Mido held out a mountain of cheesy garlic toast to O’Toole and Jessie. They each took a slice, and then all that cheesy garlic goodness was set in the middle of the table. Ten hands shot out in an opportunistic free-for-all. In the few seconds it took Mido to return with the five-gallon pot of dinner, the bread plate had nothing but crumbs and butter smears on it. He set the pot down with a thump. “Aw, come on, guys. You forgot to leave some for me and Jacobi.”

My men laughed again and even Cancer smiled. Ed and Ted partook in all this like they’d been here for years. Good. They were fitting in nicely. On top of that, they were wooing Jessie into sticking around. Very good.

Chapter 9

Ashes and Sneakers

The humor died shortly after dinner. We had nothing left to distract us from the hardest part of our dangerous lives. I sailed out for a good hour before forcing myself to shift into neutral and call everyone to the stern.

It was dark out; just a few clouds, ample stars, and no moon. We’d escaped the clouds for now. The stars being out while we freed their ashes would bring good luck to their dearly departed souls. I decided to spend stored energy on lights that lined the railing, making the flanks glow like a bottom-dwelling fish. I switched on two flood lights hanging from the corners of the wheelhouse, too. Time to say goodbye to two good men.

The stern was fifty feet of open deck, interrupted by the weapon crate sitting against the wheelhouse, which rose twenty feet above the deck. Gave me a gull’s-eye view of my ship.

All of us gathered on starboard side, even Jacobi and Jessie. Cancer and Mido had carried broke-leg boy up. Jessie stood apart from us and near Ed and Ted, her old sneakers dangling from one hand by the laces.

Sam approached her with four ten-pound weights. He pointed to them. “For you, Jessie, so we can give ‘em a proper burial.”

“Thanks.”

He held out a hand. “Mind if I tie ‘em on for yeh?” Make sure they don’t get away.” She handed them over and watched him set to work. With aid of some fishing line, he tied two weights to each sneaker, then connected the sneakers with more line, using the lace holes to hold everything together. He handed over his final product. Jessie took and placed them by her feet. “Now just be patient, miss.”

“Don’t call me ‘miss,’” she whispered.

“Oh, that’s right,” he whispered back. “I forgot. Sorry.”

Everyone but Jessie, Sam, Rammus, and I lined up along the glowing rails. Rammus had a cloth sack slung in front of him. He meticulously handed out a pair of objects to each crew member. Anyone unfamiliar with our funeral ritual might laugh, but every last one of us would beat up the offender without hesitation. The objects were wood sticks, metal pipes, metal rods, a set of spoons, and a a set of drumsticks. Ten pairs in all. Together the objects would create a band of sounds for the drumming my crew was about to tap out. Rammus folded the empty sack and set it by the railing with care.

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.