by Alton Gansky
Slow breaths. Even breaths. Relax. It will pass.
The nausea did pass, but my stomach continued to cramp a little longer. When I opened my eyes I saw the fog-shrouded sky again, except it was different somehow. A different shade of gray. And brighter.
“There you are.”
A familiar voice. Grumpy’s voice.
He had more to say. “Now, that was weird. I mean off the charts weird—eww.” He pointed at the deck. “Did you do that?”
“Of course not, I just like to find a puddle of puke and lay down next to it.” I sat up and wrapped my arms around my knees. I took a few more deep breaths praying that I wouldn’t puke again—especially in front of Grumpy.
“To each his own, I guess.”
“I was kidding. Yes, I’m responsible for the mess. Apparently being snapped from one place on a ship to another upsets my tummy.”
“Tummy? Really? What are you, six years old?”
I struggled to my feet and tried to look even taller.
Grumpy raised his hands. “Okay, okay. Just trying to be friendly.”
“You don’t have many friends do you, smart mouth?”
“How would I know? I’m as blank as you. Well, maybe I’m not that blank, but I have the same memory affliction you do. Remember?”
“Let me guess. That’s supposed to be a joke.”
“Nope, but I’ve got to admit, it was clever.” He walked to the rail. “I have a point to make.”
“Yeah? And what’s that?” I joined him at the rail and noticed another difference. The ocean was green and a little choppy. Still, I could tell the ship was dead in the water.
“First, see if you have a handkerchief in that tux of yours. It’s difficult enough looking at you as it is. The addition of vomit dribbles makes it worse.”
As if I wasn’t already embarrassed enough. Turns out, I did have a handkerchief in the inside breast pocket of my coat. I used it as requested.
“Why are we in tuxes?”
He shrugged. “One mystery at a time, Big Guy. First, I have a question or two, assuming you’re done spewing.”
“Let it go, pal. What’s your question?”
“What’s the first thing you remember?”
I gave that some thought. “You mean today?”
He looked at me like green ooze was coming outta my ears. “Can you remember anything before today?”
“No, I told you… Okay, I get the point.” I looked at the soiled cloth in my hand, then tossed it overboard. It wasn’t the kind of thing that becomes a keepsake. “I remember waking up on the bed in my stateroom, or someone’s stateroom.”
“You were in bed?”
“No. I was on the bed. Fully dressed. Shoes and everything.”
“Tell me everything from that point on.”
“First, I have a question. Whatever happened back there put me on the deck and made me sick, yet you look unfazed. What’s the deal?”
He smiled. I was surprised he knew how. “Didn’t bother me a bit. In fact, it seemed kind of familiar.” His smiled widened. “Don’t hate me because I’m rugged.”
Since arguing seemed the least productive thing to do, I caved and told him how I had come to in the stateroom, my search of the upper decks, and how I found him. He nodded.
“Is anything different now?”
“Yeah, I was transported from one of the lower decks back up here. That’s pretty different.”
He looked disappointed in me. “I mean different from what you saw before.”
“The sea is green. Before it was gray.”
“Anything else?”
“I haven’t looked around since…” I motioned to the mess on the deck.
“So the sea is a different color?”
“Yep. And it is a little more active. Choppy.”
“Uh-huh.” He raised a hand to his face and tapped his lips with his index finger.
“Uh-huh what?”
“Try to stay with me on this—”
“Do you have to be so condescending?”
“Ooooh, that’s a big word.”
“One you don’t seem to understand.” My temper was swelling. “I could throw you over this rail, you know.”
Grumpy shook his head. “No, you can’t. It’s not in you. You’re not that kind of guy. You’re one of those gentle giants.”
“I wasn’t gentle when I put you on the deck a short time ago.”
“Yes you were, Big Guy. You could’ve beat me into a pile of goo, but you didn’t. You took care of business. That’s a fact and I have the bruises to prove it. You even apologized to me. Thugs don’t do that.”
My head was starting to ache. I don’t think I could beat this guy in a battle of wits. He was mouthy, annoying, self-centered. I learned that in less than ten minutes with him. In addition to all of that, he seemed to be hiding a brilliant brain behind his barbs.
When he did speak, he carried on as if he were lecturing a class. “First, my memory goes back about as far as yours, but while you were trying to figure out how to open the door to the hallway, I was being locked in a closet by my dead father.”
“I know how to work a door… I been meaning to ask you about that whole dead father thing.”
“Not now. First things first. Our memories go back about the same amount of time. Have your forgotten anything since you awoke on the bed?”
I gave that some thought. “I don’t think so, but then again, how would I know what I forgot?”
He looked disappointed in me. “Gaps, Big Guy. Gaps. You just described a moment by moment sequence of all that happened since you woke up, right? Any gaps in that story? Did you come up on deck, then find yourself in the galley or some other place?”
“No.”
“Okay, that’s good. It means that our brains are still working the way they’re supposed to. Well, mine is anyway.”
“That water looks awful cold, dude.”
He raised a hand. “Sorry, apparently I’m not a very nice guy.”
“I get that feeling. Where ya goin’ with this?”
“The fact that we can remember anything tells us something about our problem. Our memory loss isn’t from brain damage. We can remember, just not past a certain point. We can talk intelligently…well, I at least—”
“You really want to test your theory about me being a nice guy?”
“Nah. I don’t see that ending well for me. Besides, we need to work together. My point is this: I feel a little groggy, but not so much that I can’t reason. You too?”
“Yeah, but my brain is clearing as time passes. No important memories, but at least my thoughts aren’t crashing into each other anymore.”
He nodded. “That’s a good thing. We’re not brain damaged, but something is interfering with our ability to recall events prior to just a few hours ago. And what are the odds that two people would have the same affliction at the same time on the same boat and both be dressed in tuxes? You see what that means.”
“I think so.”
“There’s a good chance we’ve been drugged. Probably something in our food.”
“How do you figure that?”
“The tuxes, Big Guy. We’re both wearing tuxes. And where do guys wear tuxes?”
“You mean like a banquet or something.”
Again a nod. “On the nose. Right on the nose.” He stepped away from the rail and walked to the spot where I tossed my cookies. “Look here.”
“You want to study my vomit?”
“Why not? Vomitus can reveal a lot. You’re not queasy are you?”
“Since I just vomited all over the deck, I guess you could say yes.”
“Ah, point taken.” He looked at the vile goop. “Anyway, I can tell you that you ate not many hours ago, so you could have ingested some drug.”
“Why would anyone do that to me? To us?”
“I have no idea.” He stepped back to the rail.
“Did they poison all the passengers?”
“I
can’t know that. Not yet anyway.”
Thoughts began to bubble in my brain. “Did you notice that all the life boats are gone?”
He looked up and down the deck. “I haven’t had a chance to look around, but you seem to be right. That means that we were rendered unconscious, had our memories stripped away, then were left behind while the crew and passengers took off in the life boats. Rude, if you ask me.”
Rude wasn’t the word for it. “Okay, smart guy. How did we get transported from the lower decks to the main deck?”
“How? No clue. But you said the fog is a different shade of gray, and that the sea is a different color. Right?”
“Yes, and it feels warmer now.”
“I don’t think we were transported up here. I think that was a consequence of something else. I think the whole ship was moved from one place to another.”
“Like where?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but knowing was better than blind ignorance.
“I have no way of knowing.”
I looked over the green sea. “You know what strikes me as odd?”
“I would think that all of this strikes you as odd.”
“It does, but somehow I don’t feel surprised. It’s almost familiar. In a way, I’m surprised by my lack of surprise.”
A moment of silence passed between us. “I suppose you think that’s clever.”
“It’s the best I can do at the moment,” I said. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“To look for others.”
He frowned. “What makes you think you can find anyone else?”
“I found you, Grumpy. If I hadn’t, you’d still be in a closet weeping. Now let’s go before everything shifts again.”
“Okay, but I want a different nickname. Grumpy isn’t doing it for me.”
“Whatever you say, Grumpy.”
Chapter 5
JUST BECAUSE YOU DON’T BELIEVE IN GHOSTS
THE CLOSET WAS the logical place to start. After all, it’s where we left off when the ship shuffled or whatever it did.
“Let me get this right,” Grumpy said. “You want us to start another search from this spot because it was as far as you got last time.”
“You got it. It’s only logical.” Based on his tone, I figured he had a different opinion.
“Think about it, Big Guy.”
“What?” I retrieved my flashlight.
“Just give it some thought. It’s about time you gave thinking a go.”
We were standing outside the now-broken door that had held Grumpy prisoner a short time ago. I looked at the closet. I looked at him and narrowed my eyes. Then I looked at the closet once more.
He held up his hands like a crook surrendering to the cops. “Okay, okay. Maybe that was a little harsh.”
I couldn’t have locked him in the closet if I wanted to, and I didn’t really want to. Even if I did, I had busted up the part of the door with a knob. That door wouldn’t be locked again anytime soon.
I leaned against one of the walls. “Okay, genius, what am I missing?”
“Last time we were here, what happened?”
“We ended up on the upper deck.”
“Yep, with you puking all over—”
“I know what I was doing. I was the one doing it.” This guy had a way of pushing my buttons. I was starting to regret finding him.
A half-sec later I realized what he was getting at. “You’re saying if there are other people on board they could have been transported, shuffled, whatever into a room I’ve already checked.”
“Bingo! Give the man a cigar.”
That was disheartening. So what should I do? Start over? “You might be right, but let’s assume you’re not. We start from here and keep working our way down.”
“I don’t see the logic.”
“It’s simple. This is where we are right now, so this is where we pick up the search.” I started down the corridor banging on doors, calling out, and jiggling doorknobs. All the doors were locked and no one replied to my calls.
We made it through the hall with me doing all the work and Grumpy following behind with a dog-eatin’-red-heart grin. I was beginning to question the guy’s sanity. He might not be crazy, but he was pushing me in that direction.
We made our way down a level and started the whole process all over again. After banging on what I guessed was the twentieth stateroom on this deck, something caught my eye. Someone—no—something was standing at the end of the corridor. I raised my flashlight and aimed it down the corridor. The thing looked human-ish, stood at least seven feet tall, was pale, and if I was reading its expression correctly, a little put out about something.
Grumpy squeaked something, but my attention was on the thing at the end of the hall. It seemed I had three choices: turn and flee (I kinda liked that one); stay put and see what it did; or march up to it and see what it would do. I chose the last option. Don’t ask why. It just seemed the kind of thing I would do.
I took a step forward. “Um, excuse me.”
Grumpy almost choked. “What? You say excuse me to that thing? Are you planning on asking directions or something?”
I kept walking at a slow pace. No need to spook the ...spook. The odd thing was that all this seemed almost normal. I shoulda jumped outta my skin, but I didn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I was apprehensive enough for ten people, but I was shocked. Shouldn’t I be shocked? I mean how often does a guy share an empty ship with a ghostly thingamajig?
“What are you doing?” Right behind me, Grumpy seemed terrified enough for both of us.
“I have no idea.” I kept moving forward. My heart had turned into a jackhammer. If it beat any harder, it would break a rib or two.
As I drew closer I could see more detail; detail I didn’t want to see. Its eyes were about the size of tennis balls. Fortunately, it had only the two eyes. Be thankful for small things. Its mouth was too wide for what passed for its face. It had lips: chapped, puffy, bloody looking lips. I prayed I was wrong about the bloody part. The thing’s skin was pale, almost see-through and looked like someone had too little skin to offer so he stretched what little he had.
It wore clothes: torn, tattered, covered in something. I had no interest in knowing what. It stood on bare feet. I have big feet, but this thing made me look tiny.
Grumpy cleared his throat. “Um, listen Big Guy—”
“Hush. I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Feel free to hang back. Or run. Whatever.”
To Grumpy’s credit, he stayed with me. Maybe he wasn’t so smart after all.
When we were about fifteen feet from the visitor, it turned and fled down the side corridor. Of course I chased it. It seemed the thing to do. Chasing running people seemed normal for me, but I doubted I had ever chased a ghost or a zombie or an alien or whatever. At least that I could remember.
It took only three good strides for me to reach the end of the corridor and turn in the direction of the thing. It was gone. There was a stairway a short distance down the abutting corridor, but I had doubts about the thing’s ability to reach them and disappear that fast.
“Okay,” Grumpy said, “I’m going on record as being totally creeped out.”
I turned. “Let me ask you something, buddy. Have you ever seen anything like that before?”
“Not exactly. My father looked pretty terrible, though.”
“Your dead father that locked you in the closet?”
“Yep. That’s the guy.” He looked at me. “Don’t stare at me that way. Just because you don’t believe in ghosts doesn’t mean there aren’t any.”
“That thing looked more like a demon than a ghost.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Seen many demons, have you?”
“Says the guy who sees his dead father.”
He opened his mouth to say something, probably something snide and deserving of a fist to the nose, but he didn’t. He closed his mouth.
I looked down the corridor again. “Back to my question. When you first saw that thing, did it seem a weird thing to see, or did it seem like you’ve seen things like that in the past?”
“What difference…” His eyes shifted from side to side a few times. The guy was thinking. “I see where you’re going with this. No, it didn’t seem abnormal. It scared me all right. I’m still scared.”
“I had the same feeling: more of a not again than this can’t be possible. Know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I know. What I don’t know is why we would react that way.”
I scratched my head. “I ain’t got a clue. Not about that thing, not about this ship, not about why we can’t remember.”
“Hello?”
A voice.
“Anybody there?”
A woman’s voice.
Chapter 6
THE BLACK LADY AND THE REDHEAD
SHE STOOD AT the top of the stairs. The same staircase the bogyman had used to escape us. I couldn’t tell if he left outta fear (doubtful) or just because he couldn’t be bothered with such puny beings like us.
The woman held a flashlight, which told me that she had been hanging around on the lower decks. I aimed my flashlight at her. She returned the favor. I let my beam linger on her face for a moment, then lowered it. Her beam in my face made it hard to see, so I assumed my light was doing the same to her. Once I moved the beam off her face and lowered it to her shoulders, she did the same for me.
Before me, at the top of the stairs, was a youngish black woman with dreadlocks. Her face made me think that she had seen some hard things in her life. She wore an evening dress, but no shoes. My guess was that women’s heels weren’t all that good for wandering around a ghost ship.
“Who are you?” Her tone was hard like steel and had an edge to it. To be honest, she scared me some.
“Really, lady? That’s your question?” At least Grumpy was consistently rude to men and women.
“Don’t mess with me, pretty boy. I ain’t in a good mood.”
“Clearly,” Grumpy said.
I shone my light in his face. “Maybe you should let me do the talking.”
“Why?”
“Because you have a tendency to make people hate you.”