Water.
Water…
Just water.
His whiskers swayed in the wind and his eyes closed reflexively. The salty wind never changed.
He sat there often, high up; on the cold, gray beams. It was safe. Nobody could get to him there..
It was fine to rest, but there were other places. With humans who gave him fish. Or ham.
Hunger.
He could eat, it had been a while. He straightened his curled paws as he stretched his back. A yawn finished the ritual. He could go now.
He walked quickly from the end of the straight tube to the middle. He jumped to a smaller beam, then another, then the next. He’d done it many times. It had become familiar.
Halfway down the gray trunk, the cries of men reached his ears. “...marine. It’s a german submarine! Ru…” Not again. It was the same as that time. The other men had the same fear in their voice.
He spotted an especially nice human. One that gave him ham in exchange for petting. The man noticed him, too.
“Hey, Oscar! You’ve gotta com-”
A sound so hard he felt it run through his whole body overwhelmed his senses. What happened? He noticed he was moving at great speeds. And he wasn’t upright.
He opened his eyes. Everything moved slowly as he fell. He saw fire in the distance and the salty water approaching. His heart beat fast.
It had happened again.
He felt an impulse and spun around, preparing to land. There wasn’t anything to land on. He hit the water.
Air.
Needed air. And dry. He flailed his extremities around until he could tell top from bottom. He made his way up, paddling just like when he was a kitten. He couldn’t focus. There was a sound like a bird that never stopped singing.
Finally, he reached the surface. Debris and sacks floated all around him. He grabbed onto one. It was a man.
Men didn’t float too well, so he jumped to a nearby plank. He breathed in and out greedily, until his heart calmed down.
He floated like that for a long while until he caught a familiar scent. He looked around and spotted a human who moved, unlike the floating ones. A hand shot up from the water and grabbed onto the floating piece of wood. A girl from the kitchens was now holding onto his plank.
She spit out some water, then started breathing with difficulty. She seemed to be looking for something or someone. He was looking for something too; a way off the floating piece of wood.
Eventually, she settled down and looked at him. Everyone on the ship had been nice to him, so he saw no reason for conflict. They stared at each other until the girl’s eyes started closing.
He didn’t want her to sleep.
He needed her to do something. They were on a plank at sea. That was the kind of trouble men solved. Big problems.
His certainty dwindled as time passed and more humans started boarding their drifting wood. They all had faces like kittens without a mother.
Thirst.
None of the men around him looked like the water boy, but he tried anyway. He meowed, and meowed, and meowed. Eventually, tired hands started trying to pet him. He avoided them all. Where was the water?
He considered the salty water. From the edge of the plank, he bent down and inhaled the smell of the sea. Fishy. Something inside warned him against it.
After a while, he started growing restless. He’d already groomed himself several times, and none of the men seemed interested in playing.
Boredom.
He could bite the hands on the plank for entertainment. The humans would react somehow. It was better than nothing.
He was approaching a hand when the sound started. A regular, splashing sound made its way towards them at high speed. The men around him seemed oblivious at first, but soon began getting agitated.
“Hey! Over here!” All but a few waved their arms in the air. The source of the sound approached them, slowing down. What was it?
One by one, the dry men pulled out the wet ones, until none were left. “Wait, you can’t leave the cat.” All eyes turned to him. He tensed up.
“He’s been with us since we sank a german vessel. The Bismarck.” One of the men bent down and offered his hand.
He smelled it and remembered the water boy. Maybe he had water. He brushed his head against the hand and was scratched in return. “Cute. So he’s a survivor cat? What’s his name?”
“I don’t know sir. I’ve only heard the tale around, I’d barely ever seen him until today.” He wasn’t being watched anymore. Comfortable, he purred to get the man’s attention.
“We’ll have to come up with a name, then.” The man picked him up and continued scratching him. His belly was normally off-limits, but this human was fine. He smelled calm, like he had everything under control.
They started moving and he was reminded of the event. He did what he could to sit up on the man’s cradling arm. They looked at each other and he felt the man understood. “Hard day, no?” He put him back down on the ground.
A long time later, he sat back on a cold, silver beam. It wasn’t the one from before, but it was fine. It would become familiar.
His hunger was satiated and his thirst quenched. Once again, men solved big problems.
He let his left paw hang from his resting spot and let himself be carried by the sound of the waves hitting the ship.
Under him, a man dressed in black was followed by a smaller human. He was apparently terrified of the first and paid attention to his every move. “... to Gibraltar. Anything else I should take note of, sir?”
The dominant man’s walk came to a stop. “Hey, you there!” They locked eyes. “Soldier, is this the cat?” The man’s stare was strong but calm.
“Yes, sir. That’s…”
“The Unsinkable Sam. The soldiers down at the mess hall are going mad about him.” The man took something from his pocket. The smell was strong and hard to resist. Fish? Beef? Sam made his way down as fast as he could.
He got to where the two men were. The big man offered him the food. Whatever it was, it was delicious. He purred and brushed himself against the man’s legs between bites.
“Transfer him too. The Royale needs someone to take care of the rats.”
The salty wind took what crumbs were left of the treat.
Once again, late! I feel like a certain Alice in Wonderland character.
This is my entry for the second round of 
Once again, you'll have to wait for the next round to learn about my love of boats. C'est la vie! Gotta run and live it.
As always, thanks to everyone at @theWritersBlock for all the help polishing these stories and the constant support otherwise. Amazing community!
Steem on!
