A Fiction: Part V

CHAPTER ONE: THE KILLING JAR

I

At the age of 27, my professional career had come to an end, my relationship was over and all ties with the world I had known were intentionally severed. I had left the city and traveled east until the trees cleared and ocean filled my sight. Within two weeks, I was a crew member of a small commercial fishing vessel. The captain was a real motherfucker – those who tried to deceive him never tried twice. I joined the crew with another man, John Jacob was his name. He had worked several other ships before this one and apparently had gotten away with his fair share. One day Jacob was ordered to repair a net that had been damaged during a storm. He replaced the damaged net with a new one he dug out of storage, believing no one would notice. The captain gave him such a beating he didn’t walk for a week. And when he did, he had a limp most of us believe he will have till the day he dies. I made no real friends on the ship, and was always looking for another vessel to call home.

The ship was anchored off the coast of New Bankland and we were all ashore for a four day leave. New Bankland is a quaint little town – decorated for the tourist trade, but behind the fresh painted antique shops, the town was home to all the whoring and debauchery any seamen could ask for. On this night, the deck crew all met in the same back-alley shit hole, for an evening of booze and women. I was never one for heavy drink and was only in the room for the card tables and conversation. I was holding my own, winning more often than not, and was getting some unneeded attention from the various ladies of the evening hoping to share in my purse. This apparently wasn’t an agreeable situation with one of the locals at the bar. He called out the one whose hand was on my knee who leaned in closer to me, smiled and waved in his direction. This got his goat, and he propped himself up and lumbered over.

I could smell him before he spoke – a mix of whiskey and cigars. By the look of him, he had been here most of the day, and was the worse for it. He wrapped his fist in my collar and tried to pull me up. I soberly spun around and knocked his arm away, a move that nearly spilled him to the floor. But he came back swinging, and caught me in the center of my chest. I hadn’t expected it and was gasping when he swung again. I ducked before he made contact and he spun and fell in a most comic fashion. He made one attempt to raise himself on his rubber arms before he fell silent on the floor. A roar from the room signaled my triumph and his friends picked him up and carried him out. I settled back into my seat and my new lady friend returned her hand to my lap as I continued to play.

After a few more less successful hands and I was ready to go, my lady friend on my arm. I left a generous tip, smiled at my shipmates and headed toward the door. As we walked, a notice taped to the wall near the exit caught my eye. I stopped for a better look.

ATTENTION:

EXPERIENCED DECKHANDS NEEDED FOR EXTENDED VOYAGE

DESTINATION AND PURPOSE UNDISCLOSED

FULL BACKGROUND CHECK WILL BE PERFORMED

INTERSTED PARTIES – REPORT TO THE RESEARCH VESSEL ANGEL’S HEAD

BY NOON WEDNESDAY

DEPARTURE SCHEDULED 3AM FRIDAY

I tore down the notice, stuffed it in my pocket led my lady out the door and into the night air.