by James Sperl
Josh swiped the remains of bean gravy from his plate with a crust of undercooked bread. He looked over at Abby as she moved beans around her plate with a fork. She’d managed to eat half of her portion, but toyed with the remaining half in a disinterested way.
“You gonna eat the rest of that?” he asked.
“Yes!” Abby sneered.
“Jesus. I was just asking. You don’t have to be a bitch about it.”
“Josh, that’s enough,” Catherine interjected. She placed her hand over Abby’s. “Honey, if you’re not going to finish that then you need to let someone else eat it. We can’t let anything go to waste.” Catherine looked over everyone at the table. “And this goes for everyone. I’ve inventoried our supplies today.” This brought the table to an abrupt and immediate state of suspended animation.
“Are we running out?” Josh said, his face concerned.
Catherine made eye contact with each of her children in turn, deciding if she should renege on her personal promise to be brutally honest at all times. There was no place for coddling anymore and she found no reason, especially now, to break her own treaty.
“I estimate three weeks,” she finally offered.
“Three weeks worth of food?” Abby stammered, the anxiety most prevalent in her eyes despite being the least of the food offenders.
“Roughly,” Catherine said. “Could be a little more, maybe a little less. But given our current rate of consumption three weeks seems to be about right.”
Tamara, a quiet observer until now, leaned ever-so-slightly forward, “So, what are we gonna do?”
Catherine sat back and set her napkin on her plate. “To be honest, I’m not sure what the right call is here. While we can stretch our food supply for a while, it’s our water that’s got us on the ropes.”
“But can’t we just collect more rain water?” Josh asked. “We could make more rain catchers on deck. Maybe rig some of the sails to act as spouts, set out every last bucket, cup, container, whatever?”
“I’ve been thinking about that, too. But it’s a big gamble. In the last three weeks we’ve had four days of rain and have barely been able to fill just one of those barrels. If we continue using at a minimum rate of one gallon per person per day—not what we should be drinking, mind you, but the bare minimum—one barrel buys us almost thirteen days. And that’s not including what we’ll need for cooking or washing.”
“Then let’s head in,” Abby offered. “I’m tired of being out here anyway.”
“Oh, poor Abby. She’s tired and bored so let’s put everybody in possible danger and go ashore,” Josh snorted, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. “Just shut up.”
“Don’t tell me to shut up!”
Josh turned and stared his sister in the face. “Shut. Up.”
“You’re such a fucking asshole.”
“Hey!” Catherine shouted. “That’s enough.”
“But he’s being stupid and selfish, mom. You just said we’re running out of water. We’ve been out here over two months and have no idea of what may or may not be happening back home. I know captain Ahab here would rather float out here than go back and face his pathetic life, but we can’t make water just appear.”
Josh leaned back and folded his arms, a look of pure disgust on his face. “You are such a stupid, pathetic bitch I can hardly stand it anymore.”
Catherine, having endured enough word fighting, slammed her hand down on the table hard enough to rattle everyone’s silverware.
“Both of you shut up! All right? Just enough.” She locked gazes with Abby and Josh, her eyes fierce and determined until each child backed down and returned to staring at their dinner plates. “Now, listen. All of you. I’m not sure what we’ll do yet. I’ll figure it out. But what I won’t have—can’t have—is bickering and sniping among you guys. We’ve got enough to worry about out here. We don’t need to add sibling rivalry into the mix.”
“I wasn’t fighting, mommy,” Tamara said innocently.
Catherine broke into a grin. “I know you weren’t, baby. And I’m thankful for that. Truly.” She reached across the table and squeezed Tamara’s hand.
“But you never answered my question.”
“What question was that, sweetie?”
“What are we gonna do?”
Catherine’s temporary smile evaporated as she recognized the true look of concern on Tamara’s face. “That’s what I’m going to try and figure out.” Catherine forced as sincere a smile as she could muster before releasing Tamara’s hand and reaching for her water glass. She eyed the contents and noticed the water was filled to the midway point and wondered analogously which way she should view it.
Silence overtook the table. Abby resumed eating her beans, managing to force down two more forkfuls before she relinquished her plate to Josh, pushing it in his direction. “You can have it if you want.”
Josh said nothing as he pulled the plate in front of him, shoving his own barren plate out of the way. He snatched his fork and began shoveling beans into his mouth.
Abby twisted at her napkin, kneading it. “Mom?”
“Yes?”
“What did dad do?”
If there were a record playing from another room, the inescapable sound of the needle being dragged briskly across its grooves would’ve put an auditory exclamation mark on the weight of Abby’s words. Josh and Tamara snapped their heads toward their mother, catching her equally off-guard and astonished look.
“I mean, I know he worked for the Air Force and all,” Abby continued. “And you told us back when we first got on the boat that it was for some special division that did research or something, but I was just wondering what exactly he did.”
Catherine only stared at her daughter, blinking profusely to stave off the tears of surprise that were beginning to form. How could she have not seen this coming? Of course, they would want to know what their father did. And in the initial days of their voyage she had laid out to her children the “whys” and “hows” of what had transpired to bring them all aboard a ship they had never known to sail someplace they had never seen based on information of which they were unaware. And that was enough for the time being. There was much that needed to be instilled and taught and she knew the reasons for their ocean bound existence would eventually be undermined by the ongoing, day-to-day survival lessons each child would be preoccupied in perfecting. The notion her children would re-express interest in their father’s vocation had been a fleeting thought at best. But this was the question and she knew she had to answer it.
“Well,” Catherine said, leaning forward again as she cupped her water glass between her hands. “The truth of the matter is...I have absolutely no idea.”
Josh’s fork slipped from his hand, clanking on his plate. He chewed rapidly in effort to say aloud what he knew everyone else must have been thinking. He swallowed with a large gulp.
“What do you mean you have no idea?”
Catherine nodded, knowing instinctively this would be hard for her children to understand. “Just what I said. Other than the fact that he was in the Air Force, left in the morning and came back at night, I have no clue as to what your father did to earn his paycheck.”
Josh sat back heavily with a snuff. He crossed his arms and stared at Catherine with a look of disbelief so profound it drew to her mind the time when he was a small boy and had just discovered the truth about Santa Claus.
“Did he fly planes?” Tamara asked.
“No, sweetie. He didn’t fly planes. Of that I’m sure.”
“So, what was he researching? Is he, like, a scientist or something?” Abby posited.
“Something like that,” Catherine said, smiling thinly through her answer. She glanced quickly at her children and saw the disappointment and betrayal on each of their faces and knew that they deserved more. Be honest, she reminded herself.
“Listen, you all have been through a tremendous amount of turmoil. You’ve been pulled from a life you’ve kn
own, taken from your friends and surroundings and thrown into a situation that you—or I, for that matter—have no idea as to its impact, relevance or seriousness. In effect, you’ve had to trust me with decisions that children should not have to be forced to abide by. And because of this, I guess its only fair that I trust you with what I’m about to tell you.”
Josh slowly leaned forward as did Abby. Tamara clutched a small, ratty stuffed elephant named Sniffles, which always seemed to find its way to the dinner table. Their eyes were glued to Catherine.
Catherine breathed deep and exhaled weightily. She set her glass aside and crossed her fingers in front of her.
“The first thing you’re probably wondering is how it’s even conceivable that I wouldn’t know what you’re father did.”
“Gee, you think?” Josh said gruffly.
“Shut up, Josh,” Abby snapped.
Josh resumed his scowl as Catherine waited patiently for the inevitable tantrums to subside.
“Your father is an incredibly smart man. He may even be too smart. And his intelligence was not lost on certain divisions of the Air Force.”
“What, was he a spy or something?” Josh muttered, half serious, half mocking.
“No, Josh. He wasn’t a spy,” Catherine said, fully aware that it would take more than ambiguities and generalities to sate the inquisitiveness of her children, particularly Josh. “Six years ago, a few months after we had just moved into our home, your father called me one day and asked me to meet him for lunch. Told me he had ‘big news’. So I met him at Rialto’s and he told me about this new promotion he’d just gotten. Said it was a pretty big deal and that he would probably be gone a little more often than before but that it would most likely be temporary as he adjusted to his new position. I remember the conversation being rather bland. A little vague even. As if he were only keeping to the basics and withholding more detailed information from me. And I was fine with that. It wasn’t the first time as a wife of a military man that I’d not been told of all he did. And I remember that day seeming especially indefinite. But I let it go figuring he’d tell me more about it when he was able or, perhaps, permitted. So we finished lunch, he walked me back to my car, kissed me goodbye and went back to his car. And as I reached into my pocket to pull out my keys I found a slip of paper. I knew immediately your father had put it there and I fully expected it to be some cartoon or a goofy joke he had written down. You know how he liked to tell jokes.”
Abby and Tamara smiled along with Catherine, happy to recount their father in such an enjoyable way. But Josh’s frown would not be broken by this as he maintained his discontent.
“So I opened the paper and written on it was a note from him asking me to meet him at Woodson’s farmer’s market right away. Well, I knew that Woodson’s closed at noon on this particular day so it was a rather peculiar place to meet since there was nothing else there but the market. But why did we need to meet, I thought to myself? I couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t have just told me what he needed to right then and there before he left. I tried to call him on his cell to find out what the note was all about and to let him know that we’d be driving a long way for nothing since the market was closed, but he wouldn’t answer his phone. At this point, I assumed your father had some sort of surprise waiting for me. It’s the only thing I could think of that would explain his behavior. So I drove out to the market to meet him, mostly out of the intrigue he had created, but partly to see the look on his face when he realized he had picked the wrong day to attempt his daytime maneuvering. As you know, your father was rarely, if ever, wrong about things.”
Catherine paused briefly and took a sip from her glass.
“So, did he have it wrong?” Abby said, clipping Catherine’s speech before she had a chance to resume.
“It turns out he didn’t. Meeting at that market when it was closed was exactly what he wanted.”
“But why?” Tamara queried. “There wasn’t any vegetables to buy.”
Catherine hunched over to better make eye contact with her daughter. “You’re right. There weren’t. But daddy wasn’t there to buy vegetables. He was there to warn me.”
“Warn you about what?” Josh said, his angry expression softening just a touch as curiosity overtook him.
“Basically, this,” Catherine replied as she sat upright and indicated their immediate surroundings with outstretched palms.
“He warned you about the boat? That doesn’t make any sense,” Abby stated, clearly missing the point of Catherine’s gesture.
“Not about the boat, honey. But about the need to use it. When I arrived at the market your dad was already there, standing near the entrance. As I pulled in he motioned for me to drive around the back of the store and so I did, finding his car parked back there as well. Well, needless to say I was a little worried at this point. Secret notes and clandestine meetings were not something your mother was used to.”
“What’s clandestine mean?” Tamara asked.
“It means secret,” Josh answered, adding extra emphasis on the final word of his sentence as if to punctuate the years of deceit.
“That’s right,” Catherine concurred, eyeing Josh sympathetically. “It does mean secret.”
“Well, so what did he want? Why did he have you drive all the way out there?” Abby asked.
“He wanted me to meet him there because he felt it was a good place where he could talk to me without fear of being watched. There were radio towers less than two hundred yards from the building which, he said, would make it hard to pick up a signal if anyone was listen—”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Josh blurted as he lurched forward onto his forearms. “Watched by who? You’re not making any sense. What’s with all the cloak and dagger bullshit? What was dad into?”
Josh was right, of course, Catherine thought. She’d had years to internalize and make sense of this information and had come to a relative peace regarding Warren’s vocation, whatever that may have been. She was never a very adept storyteller and found herself to be even less so at the moment as she attempted to recall the chain of events in the right order so they would make sense to her children.
“I’d appreciate you not cursing at me, Josh. Now, if you’ll just listen I’ll be able to explain everything. Or at least I’ll be able to explain the parts that I know.”
Josh sat back, irritated, as Abby glared at him in frustration. She desperately wanted to hear what her mother had to say and judging by the deer-in-the-headlights expression Tamara currently wore, felt her desire for knowledge without interruption was equally shared.
“The new position your father was promoted to was unlike anything he’d ever done before. That’s how he put it to me. And that’s the only way he ever put it to me. I never knew beyond that very brief, incredibly uninformative statement what it was he did.” Catherine squeezed her hands together tightly, edged forward on her seat. “But the one thing he did tell me, the one thing I thank the heavens for every day since we’ve been on this boat where all of us are alive and safe, is that, in no uncertain terms, we would be taken care of. That’s what was most important to him. His family. And now, because of this promotion, he told me, we would always be all right. You see, your father was involved in a special department I don’t believe even he could classify. But it was serious and of an extremely top secret nature. He told me that if anyone ever found out he had talked to me there could be consequences for telling even the little that he did. He was violating protocol, you understand. And he hadn’t even started yet. He told me of new security levels he would have access to and also the level of surveillance that would be directed at him and the rest of us just for him having this access. It was that important. And I remember him being incredibly excited at the possibilities of what it was he was about to enter, but he was also exceptionally wary as if he felt he might’ve been in over his head.”
Catherine sat back and looked at her children. Each stared back, hanging on Catherine’s e
very word. Josh had even relaxed his frowning muscles and had taken a visual interest in what was being said.
“But the main reason he was so enthused to begin work in this new position was that it provided him with information only a handful of people in the world would have access to. Information, he said, that would ensure our safety above all else.”
“What information was that?” Josh asked, not really expecting his mother to have the answer.
Catherine’s eyes welled with tears as she swallowed. She choked on the words as they left her lips. “Knowing when the end of the world would happen.”
It was Josh’s favorite time of day. The sun had just begun its descent into the horizon, dipping her celestial toes into the deep blue. In a few minutes she would submerge further into the water and splash the sky with colors found only on an artist’s palette. Then the slow fade would begin, the light diminishing incrementally as if some great hand was slowly reducing lumens by way of a heavenly rheostat until the sun vanished below the surface of the water. And as he witnessed the dying of another day he couldn’t help but wonder what horrors would be illuminated for others as a new day was born elsewhere. What were people forced to endure out there beyond the sea? What was life like now and how many people, in fact, were left in the world?
The sky clung to daylight by threads, the majority of the atmosphere already transforming from purples to cobalt blue in vast gradations. Josh stared up at the encroaching night sky, stars just beginning to glimmer from light years away. Typically eager to view this nightly display of heavenly bodies, it felt on this particular evening somewhat tainted, the anticipation sucked dry by the current actuality of their living situation and the revelations presented by his mother.
It was almost laughable the metamorphosis that occurred within Josh during his time on the boat. Having never set foot on a sailing vessel of any sort, he recalled reacting with extreme indignation over the notion that this fifty-two foot sailing yacht would become his home for an indeterminate length of time. But now here he was, two months and change later and he didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to go back to any semblance of “society”. There was even a small part deep within him that actually hoped for some type of world event to have occurred, reducing humans back to the efficiency of cavemen.