Sam set his jar down and stood before the chest with his own gifts: photos. That was a sore thing to give up. They were the only way any of us would get to see their faces again. Now we had several fewer to remember them by. If the parting gift didn’t hurt at least a little, then it wasn’t a good enough gift. I understood why Sam had chosen the photos: to remind us to look to the future and not dwell on the past.
Sam took two driftwood carvings from Rammus, then waved O’Toole over. The Irishman was subdued and hiding his head under his hood. He was pretty good at picking up on other people’s emotions and emulating them. He was smart enough to understand death, but it would take him a while to understand that the two techies were gone and that he’d never get to prank them again. Sam handed him a carving of a dolphin. Together they added the items to the chest. I then realized Rammus must’ve never slept last night in order to bang out the carvings, the second one of another dolphin.
And he’d taken over the wheel for me…
Sam returned to his jar and O’Toole huddled behind Rammus.
“I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.”
The rest of the crew added their gifts to the chest one by one and returned to their drumming. Sauna gave one each of the boots and work gloves to Ed and Ted. The new techies added the attire to the chest, one person as a time, and Sauna added their mates. Cancer brought over Jacobi’s gifts, a filleting knife and gold chain necklace. Cancer added a jar of burn ointment and a package of bandages. Simple things that brought back many fond memories that spawned endless jokes. Those two were burn magnets.
“I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.”
Rammus fell silent and the drumming continued, taking on a new phrase, one that roiled like a riptide. He closed and locked the chest. Sam detached a second of railing and set it aside, then joined Rammus and I in sliding the chest to the gap. The drumming built in intensity, Ed and Ted keeping up with the rest. Together, the three of us heaved the chest over the side. It cannonballed with a big splash, then began its journey to Davy Jones’ locker. We weren’t pirates, but here we were burying a chest full of priceless treasure. I dusted off my hands and returned to Jersey’s ashes.
Now, what was about to happen next would make anyone who didn’t know the truth become devout believers in sailor superstitions. Everyone but Ed, Ted, and Jessie had seen it before. “Don’t stop drumming,” I told the two.
I held the jar out over the railing. A column of water rose like a geyser to take it. The leading end morphed into a hand big enough to wrap around my body as it reached for the jar. I cradled Jersey’s ashes in the giant hand, then stepped back. The hand closed around the jar and pulled it into the sea in one swift motion. Sam held out his jar and it was claimed by a second watery hand.
Unsurprisingly, Ed and Ted had stopped drumming to stare. Jessie stared too, eyes ready to pop out of her head. It was no big deal that the new techies had stopped drumming. No harm done or intended.
Right after the second jar disappeared, the drumming concluded, leaving the rolling sea to fill the silence. I let the moment of silence stretch out so everyone could say a prayer and bid them farewell, including myself. Once this funeral was over, it was right back to what we knew as normal.
After a minute passed, I quietly said, “Alright, men, we’ll reach Revivre in about ten days. Everyone who’s ready to retire for the night is free to go.” Rammus pocketed his book and collected all the drumming equipment. Cancer and Scully helped Jacobi hobble away, O’Toole following them. I turned to Jessie. “Your turn.” A few more had been making to leave. They stopped and turned back, but stood away from the railing. I waved Jessie over.
She fearfully contemplated the ocean a moment, then picked up her burden and cautiously approached me.
“There’s nothing be afraid of. You’re not a jar of ashes.”
She whispered, “But my name…”
“Is Jessie,” I whispered back, then gestured for her to give her sneakers a good toss. “Time to say goodbye to your old life and make way for the new.”
Jessie cringed. At the same time there was yearning in her dark eyes.
“You can do it, hun,” Ed said.
“We’ll give you a drumroll,” Ted said. The two lined the railing and began rapping on it with their knuckles. Mido joined in, followed by Sam and Rammus. Sauna joined as well and turned the drumroll into a beat like that of a train chugging along. The rest of my remaining men lined up and strengthened the beat.
I watched on and waited for my cue to participate.
Wiping stray hair off her face, Jessie steeled herself and frowned at the ocean, as if challenging it to tell her to back down. She took a few steps back, swung her sneakers to one side, then surged forward and chucked them over the side with a girly grunt. The weights and sneakers twirled. Right before everything hit the water, a whale-sized koi fish made of water surged up out of a wave and swallowed the weighted shoes, then dived back under, giving us only a glimpse of its whiskers, scales, frilly fins, and dorsal fin. Its tail end melded with the wave behind it and the whole thing became one with the ocean once more. The koi hadn’t looked too bad for not having seen one in a good few years.
Ed, Ted, and Jessie gaped at the splash ring and the drumming stopped. The rest of the crew looked at me, eyes wide. I held a finger to my lips, then slipped my hands in my pockets and limped off. My ankle had swollen nicely after my jumping stunt.
Ted said, “So that’s why we’re supposed to use your nickname only.” There was awe and fear in his voice.
“I guess so,” Jessie said, matching the techie’s tone.
Sam said, “Wait, Jessie’s not your real name?”
I paused and risked looking over a shoulder. Yep, the older members who’d just figured it out were staring at the poor girl in abject horror. Sauna, however was clueless. He hadn’t been with me long enough to understand the full extend of my curse.
Sauna said, “So what’s your real name?”
Jessie shook her head. “I’m not even gonna write it down after what I just saw.”
“Captain?” Sam said.
I turned around and wore a glare. “What, you want me to say it instead?”
“Er, no. Does this mean we’re heading—”
“I will discuss everything in full after lockdown, so worry about it later.”
“Yes, Captain,” he said somberly.
“Lockdown?” Jessie said.
Chapter 10
Wrath
The night after the funeral—the night before my curse would pull me into its monthly grip—I quietly woke several choice crew members. Most woke easily. Even though we were all hardened men, death never struck softly. A few had managed to find deep sleep, forcing me to shake them until they startled awake. Thankfully, none of them tried to hit me out of self defense. However, a few unintended people woke. I told them to go back to sleep.
Five tired, heartsore men followed me to the main deck. We stopped by the metal door to a large shipment container that used to be four smaller train container. Now they were one welded-together resident on my ship.
The stars were out in full with no moon to speak of. The railing lights were still on. Rammus would know to turn them off at dawn. Hopefully it’d be a sunny day tomorrow so the solar batteries could recharge. That was a lot of lights strung along both sides of a very long boat. I leaned against the container door.