I climbed aboard and felt the boat sway with the shock from my body. I don’t know what type of boat it is. There wasn’t any light inside or outside. There wasn’t anybody home.
I lifted the plastic covers and punched three switches. The rudder started moving, the fumes started flaming and with a cough the engine flustered and stressed. Though just as soon as it started it flutteringly stopped. Great.
I climbed down into the tiny lower deck. I shut the door behind me. It was dark. I heard rattling cans as I stepped down the small stairs. There was rustling leaves and what sounded like terracotta cracking. I was disturbing this old boat’s peace. I didn’t mind. It was just like every other room. I lay out a table, sweeped some old debris off, threw some sheets over it and lay my head down.
I could sleep. But I didn’t. This boat was a strange and eerie environment. I hadn’t ever been here. I wasn’t quite sure what motivated me to get on the old Comet. Yes that’s right the boat was called Comet. My family had a habit of giving odd names to inanimate objects. Hah!
That probably wasn’t very funny was it Ellis? No it probably wasn’t.
But then I remembered. I went there so that you wouldn’t find me. You can look at me with those sharp eyes, you can do that insolent thing with your knife and your apple but it doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t achieve anything at all.
I closed the top of old Comet to let the cold out. Feeling around I found a heater under the little stairs. I tried to plug it into the boat’s power source but the thing wouldn’t function. It just stayed cold and shivering like the person fiddling with it. With another punch of my fist the contraption sprung and started flicking and ticking. It didn’t light up. It was mocking me. I punched it one more time because I could.
I wanted to tell Martin that.
I couldn’t breath. There was no air below deck. The padlock on the latch was now stuck. It was rusted through. I couldn’t get through. I couldn’t get out. With a kick the door did not move. With my fist the wood began to crack. The stupid heater was still ticking. I began massaging my temples with one hand and clutching my hair with the other. All I seemed to hear was Martin and Ellis. Desperately I rammed my side at the latch and hit my head against the banister. This was exceptionally painful. I fell to the floor.
The door gently swung back. Its sickening squeak lingered for a while. After the silence all that was heard was the piercing creak of the boat against the dock. All that was felt was the gentle swaying of the waves. I felt cold.
As the squeaking stopped another sound began. A loud ringing thud; the metallic latch of the door fell off along with the sides keeping the door in place. Dust consumed the deck.
As the fog and old boat fumes began to clear I looked below and the heater began to light up. At my feet I found something that astounded me. As the light began to show, the floor was covered in old mustard documents and bare vinyls without covers and the labels torn off. I looked on the stove, there was an ancient old record player and a dated CD collection. Nursing my head with my right hand, I gently picked up one of the documents and put it near the light. My eyes were accustomed to the dark. It was a family tree dated 1785. At the bottom were two names Hector and Elizabeth.
Flip
