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I’m on a ship going somewhere.
The night is… tranquil.
I lie somewhere soft and warm. The padded inside of a crate.
Beside me is Calder.
His breathing is even and rhythmic like the waves.
I didn’t think he’d follow me onto this ship. But he did.
The sway of the ship gives me the experience of a child in a cradle. Mother Moon watches over me as I rest.
I heard, during the day, that we are headed for a country called Radia.
“A good place to be, for sure!” somebody had exclaimed.
I didn’t buy a ticket and I didn’t get invited. I don’t know about where they are going and I am nothing like them. I simply chose to take the opportunity to board this ship and leave.
There are young passengers, old passengers, wealthy, middle class, cats, cargo, performers. And rats.
And Calder.
It is warm against his back. I can feel his warmth and heartbeat pulse though the layers of our clothes and the blankets we covered ourselves with.
A gut feeling had urged me away from my homeland. It might be from the whispers of war, or the dwindling places I could afford to be at. Or maybe I simply hoped that’d I’d die someplace of my choosing than by the sword of…
I’ve seen it happen to other people. I couldn’t do anything.
Or maybe I am just another fool who cannot use his brain.
I, Sergio, am someone who mostly makes lace. Fast, cheaper, ordinary lace. They had others for the fancier stuff. Though occasionally a noble would have some crazy commission that’d need every lace maker they could find.
Calder is someone who mostly makes imitation paintings. It pays the bills. He says people pay him when they’re just not quite rich or influential enough for the people they actually want.
My orphanage taught me the trade. Calder was taught his by his father.
I’m not sure why Calder followed me out onto this ship. It was just a gut feeling. It could mean nothing. Maybe it would all just die down again. Some group or organisation will do something to make it better.
I could’ve done something to make it better.
Mn.
I wonder how the lace trade is in other countries. With how my leg is, even though it is better than before, there still isn’t much work outside that I am both qualified for and can actually do well enough to get paid for.
Calder made me this cane. Well, not quite. He bought a hardy, affordable cane. Then he adjusted it for my height and painted it as a birthday gift.
I am in love.
With, uh, the cane he made.
Ok, ok, go to sleep.
…
The ship docks at its last stop in the country. Fresh newspapers circulate onto the ship.
It was Fraze who helped smuggle us onto this ship and helped cover up our identities. In return, I help the crew with their business everyday running errands and doing odd jobs. I end up overhearing conversations from people all around the ship along the way.
That's how me and Calder hear about the going ons of our old home country.
Calder nudges me. “It turns out your instincts were right.”
“I can’t say I’m happy.” I sigh. “It’d be better if nothing bad happened.”
Calder opens his arms to me. I step into the hug and lean on his shoulder.
The moment passes, time marches on, we continue with our errands.
I pass a table of ladies discussing their dreams of their future. They were ambitious, bright, beautiful. They were going somewhere for a reason.
…My dream is just to live.
I watched as Calder returned from dropping off a box of loose parts.
My dream is just to live with him. I’ve seen rats have families too.
“Hey Sergio,” Calder gently bumped my shoulder. “Wanna know what my dream is?”
“Yeah!”
“I want to live with you in a nice seaside apartment– I mean, we don’t have to, we could be neighbours too. I want to bake bread, watch the sunrise, paint whatever I want… What about you?”
“Ah– me? Well, I… I don’t really have one but, the dream you have sounds really nice.”
…
I thought before that we would end up spending more time together now that we were stuck in a confined area (the ship). Me and Calder. It turns out, we already spent a lot of time together before as well, so it was more of the same.
We wander the ship, sneak some food here and there, watch the waves together, play little games… It feels like we’ve been on this ship for forever.
“It's almost like a real vacation,” Calder laughs.
We stand by the railings again, looking out to the setting sun.
“...yeah, I guess.” I agree with him verbally but my mind is on other things.
“...”
The ship follows along a known route–some sort of current that’ll push the boat to where the destination is, from what I’ve heard. I don’t know how they can tell that we’re on the right track. The waves below all look the same to me.
I look down at my boots, worn yet still holding together. “I miss our old place.”
I feel Calder turn to look at me.
“Do you want to go back?”
“I don’t really know. There's no one I really feel close to there anymore.”
“...” Calder bumps my shoulder. “I get that…”
“Want to head back and sleep now?”
“Mhmm.”
Just as we turn away, we hear a loud bang. We instinctively grab the railing as the ship sways and shudders.
People begin to stir and pile in the corridors.
“Nothing is wrong! Everyone calm down!” The nearby staff try to maintain order.
Their shouts of “Nothing is wrong!” repeats like a hammer, hammering down on the questions sticking out.
Some of the people start going back into their rooms, rubbing their eyes, yawning, murmuring to each other.
Until they see the first lifeboat leave the ship.
Now it’s no use telling people that everything is fine. There is clear evidence that something is wrong.
I watch from a distance, helpless.
I don’t know what to do.
“Someone! Help me!”
Somebody yells that. I kinda want to have the right to say that too.
But I’m not a mother, or a child, or a respectable working man. I’m not even a legal passenger. A rat. That’s what they’ll call me if they find out.
Hey, maybe the ship really isn’t sinking and this is just a fuss over a false alarm.
Those people that left might’ve just gotten scared and hijacked a lifeboat.
The commotion continues. I am so tired.
We begin to feel the ship sink, little by little.
I see people frantically pack their things.
I stand in a corner to avoid being pushed and shoved in the crowds.
We barely have anything to pack.
All I have is an old diary I used my first pay check to buy, second hand clothes of my deceased ‘brother’, and of course two little paintings the size of my palm, one of me doing my weaving and one of Calder making a preproduction of a painting of a meadow.
Calder has a bag of pencils, a hand bound sketchbook he added to overtime and an off white handkerchief with lace trim that I weaved myself.
There is nothing we can use to leave safely unless we rummage the ship for something like a crate that doesn't have holes. Without being seen doing so that is.
The hole in the ship is where the crates are. Apparently some of the stuff in the crates exploded.
The other passengers mill about. They too do not see a way out.
Time stretches infinitely long between the words ‘sinking’ and ‘sunk’.
I see in my head, the image of myself dying. I watch apathetically as he drowns. The waves take him away and cannot push against them in any meaningful way.
I am at once frantic and bored.
Turns out, all roads led to death. It’s funny. I thought I could pick which direction to go, which river to go down, maybe even push against the tides. Alas, man is nothing to nature, and all rivers end in the ocean.
Time ticks and the ship begins to slant heavily. The lifeboats have all been filled yet many still remain on the ship, waiting for rescue.
I look around me, and see many faces of distress, tears, alcohol, and no sign of rescue ships on the starlit horizon.
Do rescue ships even save stowaways in the first place?
“Calder. Do you regret following me?” I do not look at him, but at the water beneath our feet.
The two of us sit on the railing as the ship sinks at a slant. The wind is cold. Every once in a while, when I think that this ship is finally, truly alone, a bird will pass by.
We seem to be waiting for the inevitable death.
Calder sits beside me. He is warm. His side presses against mine. I can see puffs of air when he breathes out.
I can see that he is thinking of a reply. But I am nervous.
I say to him, “Our futures look really bleak right now. I think this is where we die. Do you feel satisfied with your life?”
I automatically turn my head to look at Calder before I think to stop myself.
Calder rubs his face. He looks at his hands, then he looks at me.
“I don’t really know,” he says.
I can’t tell if he wants to laugh or cry.
He tells me again, “I really don’t know…”
He has no answer. I am no better. Am I but a helpless leaf in the river of fate? Do I have a choice at all?
I am looking down at the water again. Calder shifts a little.
This time, I look at him because I think of doing so. He seems to still be thinking. Like words bubble at his mouth but he can’t quite make sense of how to say them.
“I can’t say that there is nothing in my life for me to be satisfied about…” he finally says. “There is still a chance we won’t die today. I don't want to give up until I’m really dead. And…”
His eyes are pointed at the sea but his true gaze lies somewhere in his thoughts. “But whether we even make it to the destination or not, I don’t regret the time spent here with you.”
It suddenly feels all the more final, this cold night. I want to confess before death comes to me.
“Calder.” I look at Calder. I try to put my thoughts into words but his expression suddenly changes.
“Sergio!” Calder hurriedly pats my shoulder. “Look over there!”
…
I want to laugh.
Instead, a small, consistent stream of tears dribbles from my eyes.
Looking back, it was always by luck that I lived. I survived birth, I survived a terrible leg injury, I survived poverty and lived to adulthood, and today, I live to take another breath, all because I got lucky.
Those that saved us weren't the rescue ships. We got lucky again.
“We were passing by when we saw your ship sinking!”
By misfortune, I could catch a strange illness and die right now.
I accept the blanket they hand me and draw it over my body.
“Unfortunately, we can’t afford to take care of all of you. We will send you all to the nearest port.”
That made sense. It was already enough of them to pick us up and send us somewhere safe. We’re out of the country already so really anywhere is probably alright.
As always, the currents of fate push and drag, and I go along with it, helpless.
I can’t help but be afraid of where the currents take me.
There’s very little I can really control.
“Calder.” I turn to look at him. Honestly, I still feel like I am on that sinking ship.
I must sound like an incomprehensible madman.
I want to laugh.
The tears continue to dribble, though now there are much less than before.
I did not wipe them much. My face is wet.
Calder turns to me as well and pulls me into his arms. My face becomes buried in his shoulder. His shirt becomes damp from my tears.
His hug muffles my words. Regardless, I say to him the words in my chest.
“I love you.”
I feel his arms squeeze me even tighter.
“You're not trying to fool me or anything right?”
“Why would I lie about this?” I turn away, suddenly feeling like a fool. I try to push him away but I do not draw up any strength to shove. He is warm. “Whatever. I’m not confessing anymore. I want warm water and baked potatoes.”
Calder chuckles and continues to hold me tight.
“I love you too.”