Chapter Text
I'm retired, or, what I could call it, and what it's really like is stagnation. One name gives me enough pity, and the other is part of the reason I tolerated passenger, to a sailor, and what's equivalent of a second in command of the ALE, the whole summer. Autumn sucks. I'm not in to see it through on the waters, and the only thing it could benefit me at this point is seeing red leaves tangle in our nets, indicating land. So, I'm planning to get back to that land before we can start cutting back on the prime source of food, and entertainment: mermaids. While I'm gone, there'd be more of that to go around, and its not like I took the last seat at the group table very often; effectively enough, I'll be passing my charge of Captain's stand back to the original, and more capable, second in command. Currently, it's the night after my Captains funeral. Everything here has run its course to make it feel as impersonal as possible, despite the intake of blindfolding the olives in preparation for one last swim in a coffin bed. No one but I watch it sank. I didn't feel any superior, or attachment. Basic dissociation almost, and I wondered what the point was in looking at all, then. If it made him feel any better beyond the dead that I was staring. Still unimpressed. As someone always has to assume by the way I stare alone. I don't like to be read, and I don't want to be decided upon, before I could save myself. Or try. After the talk*, and
*24:00
You spoke with Arturo.
Center of poop deck.
- giving him the rank (It was always his), it was just as impersonal. It wasn't a dead weight off my shoulders, a burden. It was a moral responsibility, that felt like a job that I didn't typically apply for.
I saw things that weren't meant for my eyes, I manned a ship without heart for it, and the other men have given me a name that partially dictate how I felt about occupying someone else's destiny. And names mean something, if not wasted. Back home, I was called a brother*
*Almost Father
I'm good with directions, for everyone but myself. I lead myself astray to what I think is best for forever my past self, who would do such with a reason, and which that, me now - doesn't have. And as for unrelated decisions, depending on what is considered unrelated to my former faith in fate, I give in to, by my taste, harmless distractions. That don't count as happenings for something. Because of that, the only thing I'll ever remember of the Captains quarters is his bed*
*- Red duvet and
Giving Arturo the rank gave him the bed, too. And so I'm sleeping in the lower decks with everyone else, tonight. I'll have enough ankle space for one body on a lifeboat tomorrow morning. It's the only thing here anyone owes me. No matter what Arturo says, or what the Captain might have insisted. and I'm thinking of leaving behind my share of the gold, that I drew the maps to. I wouldn't have saved the conversation just so I could sleep upstairs.. And I don't think I would have slept there if there was a second bed in the quarters, either. I'd rather forget the whole layout of this ship by the time I wake up, if I ever do sleep, and leave on the lifeboat like a castaway.
The elections wouldn't have been in my favor, I already knew that much. So giving him the rank was a quicker, easier process. I enjoy a lot more that the other sailors down here had forgotten about me, as a candidate, or a presence at all. I don't feel obliged to do anything, but wait. Alright, now, across from me, near the center of the room, circled by sleeping men, are two other pirates, who I thought were asleep, like the rest of the floor. I'm against the wall, beneath a window, and the light barely taps me. But if they were careful, maybe turned a bit, they could have noticed me. While I'm in the blank view of their sex. One's upright, one's still on his back, making his noises right next to whoever else is listening. I wasn't too sure about it at first, because their sounds blend in way too well with the pained sleep talk of the older guys. It stinks, of their sweat. And all the while it just keeps getting faster. This was common. Someones loyal routine. Being upstairs doesn't save much from these types of sounds. It's more brutal in the face, for me. Rather than feeling it, I'm seeing it. And I don't want to start thinking back on my third night aboard. Too soon and I might start having feelings about it. I haven't touched a person since I wrapped up the Captain, I just remembered.
His illness wasn't a contagious one. As far as my knowledge of man-made diseases goes. But I was the only one to touch him, despite the fact. And I wasn't gentle ^Enough.
I don't know who spends their retirement being a thief. I walked onto a boat, and in the end, I didn't like the boat any better than I did when I climbed aboard* And I learned what someone else needed to hear. Jumping ships had never been much of an option, because I can't swim for long. And I fail at quitting on an impulse. I do what I can, because it's the least I'm able.
* Maybe, this winter, you could stop thinking that -
things happen for a reason