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"hoist the sail inside my open heart and let me heed the call of the sea"
Faint pitter-patter of various footsteps was heard across the deck. Soaked shivering bodies scurried inside sheltering from the rain. Oddly enough, he had no time to tend to such things. Only the weather. The rain. It reminded Newgate of him.
As countless waves slammed against the weathered hull of the Moby Dick, he took in the minutiae of reality. A moment of disgust, a remembrance of failure and loss. Lamenting the past of a parents’ sin.
Had pride gotten the best of him?
Being a former shell of his prime reminded him of morality and death. Age had gotten to him faster than the wind. It wasn’t a kind autumn breeze either. Sailing the seas had gifted him knowledge of the past and present. It even told him stories of romance, family and filial piety.
The heavens granted his wish for an heir in return for his muse. The brat was merely the size of a pint, but his cries could rival the finest of herons. He had silk jet-black hair and a pair of ashen grey eyes, a mimic of his maternal beauty. As if pollens drift and bud over tarnished soil, the dreadful air was replaced with the birth of a new life.
He was present nursing and raising him from the grimes of birth. Ensnared by the whimsical child’s endeavors, he had been patient with every bruised limb and broken tooth. Like how every star align in constellations, they were inseparable. He wondered when it went south.
Soon it was due time for the child to grow and be a lad of his own. It was a new mess every morning, not even an utterance of harmony. Daily screaming and shouting guttered his throat for minuscule reasons. The way he spoke with tints of bitterness and spite. The way he scowled. The way he frowned. It was forever instilled in his mind.
As night unfurls it splendor, the clouds loomed over the harbor marking signs of rain. Before long the light droplets of water poured down. Drowning the blares of nightlife. He remembered how Marco’s voice was slathered with urgency as he broke the news. It was the night of Crocodile’s disappearance. They searched the island from every thread of grass to the peak of mountains, but to no avail.
Had it been then?
Unexpectedly, life on the ship went on as usual. The act of yearning subsided soon after the third year. It was until the daily News Coo piqued his interest. Unravelling the paper in his hands, there on the front page donned with a distinguished scar across his face. Bemused and intrigued by the new appearance, he wondered how life at sea had been without a dignified crew. For sure it didn’t work wonders.
The reunion wasn’t heartwarming either. The man sauntered slowly with a strip of thin menthol cigarette clenched between his teeth. He couldn’t even remember why they fought. The meaningless feud ended abruptly after a foreboding omen. Caught in a web gilded with a surge of fury, stupidity overcame his logic as he raised the blade and cleanly slashed through. An ear-splitting scream could be heard as the pain scalded the layers of muscle and skin.
The pain Crocodile felt at that instant must’ve been awful, irrationally so. To be treated lowly as dirt by the likes of his own beloved father.
Mercy there was none. As if the skies had mocked him, beads of raindrop came quickly after the man was thrown overboard. True to a fault, umbrellas don't mean anything to the unprecedented rain. Being old and senile doesn't help in coming to terms with having flaws as a human and a father. He had lost track of how many years had gone by since the incident. It made him mourn and regret. It frustrated him.
Had the overwhelming love he’d raised the man with not enough?
His mind swarmed with questions that would never be answered. Laying motionless in his bed hooked to a copious amount of health monitors. Restless nights like this gave his mind time to roam and scatter. Waking up with a throbbing hangover was now a routine. Moments prior, he wanted to bask in the moon’s glow as the clouds loomed neath the pitch-dark sky. Then, he decided to stay caved in his room as the starless night poured rain. The thought made him sluggish.
He missed the moments they shared together. As father and son. Alas, euphoria doesn’t last an eternity. Tied between laughing and weeping at the remorseful world against him. He longed to see the face of his son. To hold him close and plead for forgiveness. To shower him with affections. To see his smile. No amount words can redeem him of his guilt. At this he scoffed miserably.
Beyond the endless sea, was there any forgiveness to spare?