Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Walk (07/20/06)
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TITLE: Blue Seas and Hazel Eyes | Previous Challenge Entry
By Steve Uppendahl
07/25/06 -
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A large wave slams against the starboard side. I close my eyes as mist from the sea sprays across my face, droplets sticking to my beard and long, unwashed hair. I keep my eyes closed and breathe in the scent of the sea. I lick my lips, taste salt and a touch of seaweed. I feel rivets of water run down my face and neck. My shirt is plastered to my chest; my pants and boots are drenched. I don’t care. I love the sea and everything that comes with it, just as my father and grandfathers did before. Unfortunately, I didn’t inherit all of their traits. My life would’ve turned out much differently if I had.
The roar of the sea helps to block out the yells of those behind me. Even though their work has been invaluable, they are still beneath me. I refuse to look at those inferiors even now. Instead my mind wanders and returns to the past.
“Father, do you ever feel bad about stealing?”
Irritated, “What? No.”
“Isn’t stealing wrong? Mum says-“
“Never mind that, Robert.”
“But-“
“Every man needs a trade, son. This is ours. Now pitch in before you feel my strap.”
I finally open my eyes and squint from the brightness of the setting sun reflecting off the leagues of water spread out before me. No matter how many times I experience it, the beauty of the sea never fails to encompass me. I wish I could say the same for the family business.
Many consider my life to be adventurous and glorious. They are half right. There is no glory in my work.
“Don’t their screams and begging weaken you, Father?”
“No, Robert, they don’t. There is no mystery about men like us. They know what we do and what we are. Yet, they don’t properly protect their goods. The more they fret, the more they look foolish and the more I take.”
I stop intermittently at various ports for business and pleasure purposes. I’m successful, well known and feared. I have no complaints.
That doesn’t mean I’m happy. It’s gotten to the point that I can’t even hide it anymore, though I doubt my comrades care much one way or the other. Not as long as they get paid anyway. All except for one.
“Robert!”
“What?”
“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you? You’re still thinking about Cayman Brac aren’t you? The woman? For God sakes man, get over it.”
“Will, you’re a grand first mate and friend. But, mind your own concern.”
“I’d love to. If you’d do your job and keep your mind off past dalliances and weak regrets, I would.”
I look out to sea, silent and brooding. Robert slaps the rail and runs his blistered and calloused hand through his long blonde hair.
“I just don’t see the problem. We plunder, pull into port, take care of business, take to the sea, and complete the circle. We’ve done it for years. What’s the difference with this woman?”
“Her eyes,” I respond finally while closing my own. “After everything we, I, had done, she still forgave to the end. She had a peace about her I’ve never seen. I saw everything in those eyes.”
“That’s why you kept her necklace and Book? You hoping to get what she had? Believe me, Captain, you took all she had and more.”
In past times, I’d dispatch anyone who spoke to me in such a manner. But things are different now. Word spreads quickly through the crew.
It doesn’t take long. Five weeks with no activity is bad enough. Having passed over four golden opportunities is unacceptable.
Mutinies are fast, brutal, and never fairly matched. The decision is made with equal speed, ruthlessness and much fanfare.
Ankles chained, I shuffle another three feet and look down into the depths of the sea. My vision blurs into a blue mass. I see her hazel eyes and the peace behind them, the gold cross hanging from her neck. I bring my tied hands up to touch the same necklace. I pray for the first and last time, and take my final walk…
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What a great tale of pirates and treasure, with a view from the "inside" of the story one rarely sees! The only glitch that got my attention came in this line, quoted here. Are both the narrator and his son named "Robert?" That's the only conclusion that makes sense to me. But, then his son would be part of the mutiny against the captain. Hmmm, yes sad, plus hints at more of a story for the telling. Write On, friend!
Thanks for pointing that out. Oops. Thanks for the comment, as well. Write on, Edy.
Steve