by Robert Lyon
Jane started feeling a little dizzy about the story and couldn’t believe the chuckles coming out of Eric as he told it, he was doing such a good job repressing his laughter but the story while apparently true definitely had some humor. Her mouth hung open and her head cocked to the side as she nodded in astonishment and Eric tried not to laugh at her reaction.
Eric broke with a moment of laughter and instantly regain his composure have remember these people might kill him for having stolen the boat. And under that pressure his eyes began to water and he choked a little as he continued the story with a cry piercing through his anxious excitement.
Eric continued his narrative, “So anyways, the captains bitch is getting’ his ass rolled. The boar is like big daddy…I’m totally like ‘Oh Fuck’ Smity is laughing his ass off, the captains still playing handball on this boars head and, and, and…then the real shit starts…” Eric started to faint and blacked out.
Mike added, “It smelled like a Turkish bath house and the soil was real loose, later I found out that was just, all shit. So, like he was saying Wildly get spun around and the captain not so much trying to knock the boar out as piss him off to get him to chase him. So Smity sees this and runs in there…” Smity interjected, “ya, I was just going to grab the bull by the horns…”
Mike continued, “…but there’s a hell of a difference between horns and tusks. So, that fuckin’ monster boar rears up and head butts Smity, knockin’ his ass to the ground and he’s just seein’ stars and he’s just cryin’” Atrisia added, “Fuck ya” Mike continued so the boar starts spinning wildly around again. First the captain asked, ‘who sent dumb ass in there?’ then starts yelling hootey noises at this boar. And the other boar, like Eric tells it, ‘ain’t havin’ it’ and they charge and trample the shit out of Smity.”
Eric starting coming back to consciousness and hearing the story starts laughing, “ya, ya…haha, ya…and then, and then…” and Eric blacked out again.
Atrisia picked up the story and said, “So these wild boar are kicking our asses, and we just got there. So, I start yelling ‘sue- we’, then the captain starts yelling it.” Then Eric and Atrisia said simultaneously, “Then they charge the captain.” Atrisia continued, “All of them.” Eric, in and out of consciousness said breathlessly, “And we’re right behind him.” Mike continued,
“He, no shit, was jumping from one of their backs to the next, running on top of them…unfucking believable.”
They paused as Eric sat up and he drank some water
Michelle had given him. Eric said in a near whisper, “They broke through the brush behind us and swarmed in circles, now coming from behind us, like a stampede. Dave pulled us all over
to him like a protective dad, except for George. George yelled,
‘Fuck you’ just enraged, then climbed a tree.”
Mike continued, “So there running around us and there’s like sixty of the damn things, you can’t even see the ground, and it’s just ‘thump, thump, thump’, we could hardly here each other. So the Captain throws a rock and hits one of them right in the balls. That was the first squeal we heard from any of them.”
Atrisia interjected, “There were grunts though.” And Eric said,
“The one that squealed bumped into the one next to it and they all tripped over each other then they broke and went back into the brush.”
Jane asked, “So, it was like that then?” and Eric replied,
“That’s the best example of how we survived, ya.” Atrisia added with a sly grin leaning in toward Jane, “Well, there wasn’t any sex if that’s what you mean.” Jane knew exactly what she meant and replied, “You’ll be happier with the king.” Atrisia replied,
“But Tommi’s over here” Jane replied, “Tommi’s not a lesbo”
Atrisia slammed her fist down and said, “Damn it!”
The Woodenpeg was being cleaned out by Kim Luds and
Tim brock. I looked around at all we had done and realized leaving would be a shock, but they had been circling an island chain for two years. As the thought of never being able to leave entered my head I glanced at Athena, and then recalled what I saw in Jane, her renewed fear that maybe there was some sort of holocaust, and then I looked over at Michelle. She had seen what I was looking at and said, “Her, not me.” then turned and walked away.
Over the years we had all gotten to know each other very well, we were just transparent to each other; it wasn’t hard to figure out what was on someone’s mind. Our old story for two separate groups on the island was in the event of a contagious
disease; one group waits for the other to get through the contagious period, and then renders aid. It seemed the new story was we are just different sorts of people, and we do what we do to get along.
King Hudlow had Artimus seated across from him at the table created for the trial which had become known as ‘The
Alter of Ages’. Hudlow said, “Captain…no, Artimus…wait no, thief, you stole their boat and they are our only chance of rescue.” Artimus interjected, “I was and still am our best hope of rescue.” Hudlow slammed his palm down on the alter and yelled, “Two years Captain! Thief!” Artimus hoped to be taken for modest when he said, “Well, we got side tracked” Hudlow rubbed his chin in a practiced way trying to approximate his mental image of King Solomon and said, “Do tell.”
Artimus looked around and at the shear absurdity of it he knew it was genuine. GSM1 Hudlow had become the king.
Artimus said, “Okay, but first are you the king of just the beach…just here” Hudlow replied as he pointed down, then at himself then at the other town, “Lower island, King, and over there is the island republic. The wall they built because of you is still up; I call it ‘Dave’.”
Artimus said, “Okay, there was a storm, Smity’s pussy hurt, lots of water, more rain, lost, more islands, back here…ya, two years.” Hudlow responded, “Tell me about the water.”
Artimus replied, “Blue, wet, deep, cold” King Hudlow smirked then smiled and said as he leaned in as to share a secret, “Ya, damn cold” and laughed like they had shared a joke. Artimus was thrown off a bit and laughed too, then asked, “Am I a prisoner over here.” Hudlow again leaned in and then glanced around as if to make sure no one was listening and said in an
elevated volume, “Let me put it this way…Your damn right you are!”
His Majesty was at his highest form, Artimus once depicted in a shadow puppet play as a four headed snake with a tiny human penis, was in defeat and acceptance simultaneously and awaited the consequence of that type of surrender when he said,
“I brought the boat back.”
Hudlow replied, “You stole that from them, you stole something more complicated from us…hope.” Hudlow looked around to ensure everyone was listening and again raised his voice as he said, “I mean they have a god damn hot air balloon!
They fly! I shit on a stone toilet…and flushing that damn thing takes twenty people!”
The practical matters cut through to Artimus, in his view you can argue philosophy all day long and at the end of the day win or lose nothing changes, but change a man’s brand of coffee and change the world.
Artimus said, “Well maybe there’s something I can offer you.” Hudlow interjected, “Your left nut?” The look in
Hudlow’s eyes made Artimus terrified as he realized he was sincere. Artimus looked for Wildly in the crowd and had a flash through his mind of the two of them running back to the boat and setting to sea escaping a horrible fate and then asked, “Why didn’t someone build another one?” Hudlow was taken back with visible astonishment in his eyes and Artimus began to smile believing briefly that they just hadn’t thought of that until King
Hudlow uttered the surprising reply of, “Fuck you.”
Hudlow pointed behind him with his thumb and yelled in outrage at Artimus, “They wear dresses over there!” Artimus looked around and Hudlow added, “They look like miniskirts!”
Artimus pointed with an inquisiti
ve look at Becky Clarkson and
Hudlow looked over and replied, “Well, ya…sure. She’s a girl!”
And Artimus speechless and feeling dizzy nodded his understanding. Hudlow smiled at Artimus’s discomfort and said,
“I am the king here, and I promise you, I am going to help you make this right. No matter how tired you get. No matter how sick. No matter how wet or cold or deep or blue. I will make you, make this right.” And with a smile and a nod he walked to his short hut to yell at the top of his voice before sending out everyone to fish. And as he entered his short hut he yelled,
“Washam put him to work!”
As Artimus followed Washam down to the beach, he noticed everyone was stripping off clothing. Dave asked,
“What’s going on?” Washam replied, “It’s almost fishing time.”
Dave asked, “just you and me!?” Washam smirked and said,
“Everyone…even the king.”
As they swam with nets and spears with the boat watching for anyone drowning or sharks, Dave swimming next to Hudlow asked, “If you’re the king then why do you work?” Hudlow responded with a laugh, “This is how we do everything.
Together.” Dave Artimus was taken aback by the celebration of victory at every fish caught. He looked as though he finally found his place.
Dave swam down deep and dragged a net over some fish then swam below them as it floated down, once they swam into the net he swam away as fast as he could with the cinching line tied to his waist. Just as they had he swam to the surface and went into a back stroke as he hauled in that line and called out,
“I got some!” The boat moved to him and hauled it in they held up his net and everyone cheered then returned to their fishing.
He was asked by Branson in the boat, “You need another net?
Or are you good?” Dave asked, “What am I supposed to do
now?” Branson responded, “Help them if you can. You caught some so if you’re too tired you can resign to the beach.” Dave replied, “I’ll just help.” and Branson handed him a spear.
The cleaning of the Woodenpeg was going well and new sails were being woven. When first built we knew who our sailors were to be, they were the best with the fishing boat now we were all proficient at sea. Our navigational circle was more complete than it had been the first time we tried to launch. The weather patterns would be worked out from the weather tower.
While the weather tower was being rebuilt and the supplies for the trip were being amassed there was anxiousness about all the island inhabitants. I went to my work shop to review my private plans.
An emergency hot air balloon would not be necessary so I set those plans aside. The lenses I was refining for a telescope would sit be needed so I left those where they lay. The star and moon movement clock I had to wind every day and the refined charts I had made with it were ready.
I stepped back and looked out at the sea; we had been here so long. Artimus and the thieves had returned and considered our behavior strange, at least something they didn’t recognize. It seemed to me they hadn’t changed.
We all wondered why they had found us, or if they had even looked. Artimus had a tendency of pissing off his superiors before and immediately after pissing off his subordinates; I figured, ‘No way in hell did that help’
Chapter sixteen
Reflections
We performed the circles around the island we had intended before the boat was stolen. Day and night the ship
sailed circles around the island. We took our time working things out, performing training missions. We sent our crews out to the borders of our horizon for an overnight anchorage only to sail back in the morning. This time we would succeed.
In a senate meeting the competition between Athena and
Michelle struck again, and it was decided we would use our balloon crane to build a stone pier primarily from rocks under the water pinned with wooden poles, which was then argued to an entire harbor wall made from blocks with mortar on land then lowered into place by the balloon crane. We lacked any volcanic ash for setting cement underwater so the harbor wall was actually more stable.
I don’t think I was the only one hesitant about return to society in America; no one seemed to be in a rush. Or at least that’s how I remember it now.
Last night Athena and I walked along that harbor wall, built fifteen years ago. We still fly small balloons and paper lanterns our just a part of our culture. Dave Artimus was there watching the paper lanterns rise up from the harbor. Once our ship had reached America we had been rescued by a merchant marine ship. Upon returning to our nation we discovered we no longer fit in. We sought each other out and fled back to the island. Now we reside here, Dave found everything he had had been washed away by the belief he was dead and only complicated by the realization some of what he had was only an illusion to begin with. Dave stood there in a navy pea coat and turned to us and asked, “Was it all worth it?” that was the question he had asked himself for years and could never fix on one answer that felt accurate. We just smiled at him as he looked away nodding, over the years that had become a philosophical question that had no true answer, it only provoked introspective.
Tomorrow was harvest day and in memory of the reign of
King Hudlow who now lives back in America we all harvest our new crops of wheat, and tomato, grapes, and oranges as well as the sorghum and leeches. The fishing extravaganza follows and just before night we watch people swing on high from a hot air balloon, followed by more paper lanterns at night.
The former master chief had left the island for a few more years than the rest of us for a lecture circuit. But the questions he was asked showed the current generations would never understand. It seemed so simple to them as though everyone and everything is only a phone call away. But the sea remains hungry and after a couple more years on the island he passed away here with his wife Charlie in attendance.
Right now she sits in a decorative garden we call ‘The weeping garden’ The stone walls bear spirals, lines, and other designs, to remind us, when the Woodenpeg left for rescue hope had once again left us, we couldn’t eat or sleep. We lived in stone homes with bare walls and we starred at those walls, deep in hunger and sleep deprived, it was like being swallowed by the earth.
During the day our children play in the fields and learn from us…an entire island being ‘home schooled’ we joked. Box kites are of particular fancy to them, especially making the paper thin enough but also strong enough; it’s like a competition to them.
They have little interest in domino games but the Chinese checkers are fun. I tell them, ‘Of all the stories untold, you are the result. Thus, the answer is you.’ which is taken for deep and prophetic until they are old enough to realize I’m probably just talking about sex and then I laugh.
The Woodenpeg sits ‘reefed’ on an artificial reef off the north coast, so that we never lose hope again. Our weather tower
stands strong and proud with a sister tower it is bridged to for structural stability.
Michelle handles island commerce and we exist as a U.S. territory with our own system of government we tailored for ourselves. We refer to it as ‘Monarchy Absentia’ the king is away and the senate maintains governance over the lower island with the help of the whole damned world. I like to think of us of the republic as the Olympians back on Olympus, the island upon an island atop a mountain. So I put a stone pedestal in the cistern on the mountain so I could be there if I needed escape. I explained it was just to check the water level and everyone allowed me my eccentricity.
Watching the kids run down our cobblestone roads is my favorite part of life now, and that sight gives us all pause. I struggle with my mechanical computer as a mockery of all technology we lived without for so long. I wear a funny stocking cap and pass out flowers to young women that have to remind me we may be related since the island is so small.
I suppose that’s just the fate of a sailor.
Copyright 2015 All Rights reserved
By Robert Lyon
Any similarity to persons alive or dead is entirely coincidental or proof of criminal misconduct of said individuals; if you served on the Paul F Foster DD-964, which falls under fair use, especially during my service there then please drink three classes of sangria wine while listening to Willie Nelsons
“To all the girls I’ve loved before.” and wait for the screen to fade to black. May your PTSD die before you do.
<<@381>>