Adrift

You know, when the weather was fine and the sailing was smooth, the Good Ship Inflexible was constantly brimming with anxious passengers. Partying every night, staying up to all hours of the day; it was a non-stop festival. We laughed and sang songs, toasted the starry skies and often wondered aloud just how long the good life can really last.

One particular evening, we stayed up until sunrise the next morning to marvel at the annual meteor shower, dancing and emptying an ancient barrel of wicked hot peppery wine in the process, telling each other bigger and better lies about the finest whores we’ve ever known.

Ahhh … then, sometime around noon the other day, I woke up and found myself alone.

Everyone had disembarked, jumped like rats I suppose or otherwise having taken their leave. I felt immediately constricted and blinded somehow, as if the bastards had left me sightless and tied me up or somehow restrained me before making their getaway.

But, as the cobwebs faded, I realized my favorite straw hat was now broken, its beautiful wide brim now hanging down in my eyes and my T-shirt was ripped into several long vertical sections, leaving only the crew neck holding it together, which had allowed the more lengthier pieces to wrap around me tightly while I was sleeping on the deck underneath the captain’s chair.

Oh, yeah, oh, yeah, I said, as I began to unwind myself from my constraints and painfully remember the nature of the rumble which caused my salty air solitude.

I found my smokes and sat there on the deck listening for a while as the empty old ship rocked and heaved in the waves, the sea slapping the hull with a purpose, odd squeaks and clunking noises coming from below. I watched as the multicolored party streamers and empty martini glasses were all washed off the deck into the ocean and I could tell she needed a new paint job.

I grabbed an empty bottle that was rolling past me and dropped my still burning ciggy butt to the bottom. A muted sizzling sound escaped as a thick white-brown smoke ascended up the barrel to the sky, past the curved lip of the bottle which once held so much promise beneath it. I turned the bottle around to read the sun burned label.

Ah, I remember you, I said.

Nah! The hell with it, I thought. Why put myself through all that? Quickly, without looking back any more, instinctively knowing I could never cross those same waters again, I decided that I’d just turn her around, take her back to port and trade her in on a new one. That is, after all, the American way and I am not one to forsake my own heritage.

I stood up and fear raced for a moment when spying the control console, as it was apparent that the compass suddenly had a mind of its own. Oooh, we are dreadfully off course here mates, I told my one man crew.

I grabbed the nearest thing I could find, the fleshy part of my own fist, and began wailing away. The echoing sound of my pounding surely carried across the sea, distant and alien whoomphs registering with unknown receivers at remote points all around the globe. Thankfully, after a few hard whacks, the needle responded and chose to point in the proper direction.

My gratitude to Neptune was never so intense.

But it comes to mind that as these particular points in life start to turn, so do men have an ironic way of turning on each other. It was then that the one man crew began to seriously argue amongst themselves.

First there were a few moans of discomfort and suspicious looks to the side. Soon, when they realized the captain was unwilling or incapable of making a decision, it became a virtual free for all. Sails or engines? Engines or sails? Order us, man, order us to action now! What are you waiting for?

Saddened, I stepped forward to speak, with the backdrop of gentle waves lapping and ravenous seagulls squawking all around me. First, I rebuked them all. Our situation was tough enough as it was, I explained. We had to stick together. It was just pitiful to see us behaving this way. Must, I asked, all committees be so shitty? It was time to put our differences aside and be respectful of each other’s concerns. But, be there no doubt, if that’s the way they wanted it, I would make my course clear for all to hear.

Engines, you fools! What, are you all crazy? I know nothing about sailing!

With that, I lit another ciggy, cramped the remains of my favorite straw hat firmly on my head, and switched the ignition key to the ON position.

Engage!

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