Life is funny and sad... and yet, there are days that fit somewhere in the middle--those feelings that is. Days have a way of sticking themselves in the middle of a lot of things. That menace of dread and drear. Or the warm hand that sends a shiver, its touch so secretly wanted. Yeah, days can find themselves middlesome.
Atayo watched the water slowly ripple in. Often he would find himself sitting by the water, he’d smoke and think; cigarettes one after the other, something bitter to drink, and a head full of reflections. The day would roll over slow, just like the water, how the tide would creep in and then out. These days were rare, like sunlight in a world of rain. They were nice, but (he lit up another cigarette) they didn’t fill you up.
At least not all the way. He sat and gazed, boats would come and go and he’d watch as they slid by, effortlessly. It was easy to become a Captain. All you needed was a boat, and a little water and with those Atayo could simply sail out and name himself captain. So simple. He didn’t have the boat though. One cut in as he looked out, a slow purposeful motion. It bobbed slightly, moving with the waves, passing on by him without pause. Shortly after another rolled in, a catamaran. He’d always wanted one even though he didn’t know much about boats, just that he wanted one, and that he wanted a catamaran.
His dad had always wanted a boat. Something to take out into the waters, to run beside waves, to feel that open wind and sharp, salted air. He knew, because he wanted that very thing, he could see tall, salt-water fishing poles strapped to one of the passing boats. It was bittersweet, watching it grow closer, he could see it; line running out, caught in a fight with the of the fish of a lifetime. That part was sweet.
Jen approached, his waitress, she was nice and checked on him just enough to make sure he felt remembered. That was a sign of someone who knew their work. He was easy though, sit and watch and think, sipping on the cutting drink, slowly. Too quick and his thoughts would muddle. These days, those rare sunlit ones, he tried to stay thoughtful. Too thirsty and he could fall into that dreary spot, it was damp and solitary there.
Some boats he knew by name. Many came and went daily, some in particular he’d dream of steering one day. Some day.
A tear slipped down his cheek and he wiped it away quick, before anyone could see. He didn’t know how, but, one day he’d make it happen. A deep longing reached into his heart. It was stark and total. He could see it... right there. All that was needed was to reach out. They would slip right on by though, riding in with the currents, out with the tides. Both beneath the sun and night, by moon-lit and sun-blazed waters they’d fall beyond his fingertips, out of sight. In his daydreams he was there, sailing out beyond the bridge and into the bay. Still, like these rare sunny days, that didn’t fill him up.
He put out his cigarette and lit another. The next time Jen came by he asked for the check. It was cheap, he didn’t have much anyway. Enough for today, enough for what he needed. He wasn’t ready to leave yet, but sometimes sitting somewhere for awhile, brushing off your caretaker, you just wanted to ‘get outta dodge’, as they used to say.
Atayo left the cafe, and headed for the canal’s edge to sit by the water, some days he would swim--if it was hot enough. He’d watch the coming and going of the tide or the schools of minnows that would swim along the water’s edge. Something about the water had always called and calmed him. Maybe he had filled his head with dreams of sailing, of how it must feel to be on the open water taking care of yourself. To him it was a place that made a man. To only have yourself to rely on. Those that came out on the other side were different. Some were stronger, others returned broken or not at all. It was one of those things... you never knew until it was finished.
The day slipped slowly by. Not quite as slowly as some of the boats rolled by, those teetered on the edge of antagonizing him. The afternoon faded and Atayo found himself lying in the grass beside the canal. Small pieces of it poked him in random places, some unfelt until he moved, others a constant prick that he couldn’t help but notice. It didn’t matter to him. His thoughts were heavy. Atayo felt unsure of what to do or where to go, his direction was muddy. Like waters on the edge of a storm. His days filled themselves like this more often then not. A brewing uncertainty.
He watched a large two-hulled boat drift in under the tall bridge. It was a catamaran, the one he would wait for some days, the one of his daydreams. It was white, bright white, the captain kept it clean. That was a sign of a good captain, some boats…he’d wonder just how they stayed afloat, not this one. This one looked like he could run ahead of a storm, buffeted on it’s coming wind, not that he would try that. He didn’t have a boat. He slipped into that place of want and watched as it came into the canal.
The boat slowed... everly so--it seemed endless. The man who steered it looked right at Atayo, his gaze pierced. They had seen one another countless times. Atayo could see his coarse, wrinkled hand atop the wheel, guiding it, bringing it home. It nearly whispered its presence as though it scarcely existed. Water lapped softly on the break-wall, the soft sound filled the air. The man walked from the helm, but Atayo was looking at the boat, it was beautiful. He could feel his feet on it, seafoam spraying up, wind whipping through his hair and worries.
“Hey, boy!” the man called to him in a gruff voice.
Atayo started as they had never spoken before. Atayo's feet hung over the edge of the canal wall, he had been lost in that day-long daydream. The man tied the boat off, tethering it to a moor by the water’s edge and walked to the rail, leaning on it and called out to Atayo again. “Hey there! Can you swim?”
He stared at the man, then... “I can!” Atayo yelled.
“Swim out here then!” he said it roughly.
Atayo didn’t know what to think, but, he stood up and after emptying his pockets dove into the water. It was a canal and not exactly clean, but, he would do anything to stand on that boat. The water was warm as it was the middle of summer, the air was hot and humid, even if he had to scrape grime from the hull he wouldn’t mind. Better than smoking cigarette after cigarette and stuck on thoughts of sailing... as he swam he left those behind too.
He found himself wondering what this man wanted, he could have asked first, but something told him to just jump in. Sometimes a thing just feels right. He knew, all too well how easy it could be to get trapped in not doing anything. Instead, he swam. Water has a way of making things further than they seem, it took him long minutes to make it to the boat. He pulled himself up, panting.
The old man stood there looking down at Atayo, his arms were crossed and--at first--he seemed to be angry. When he laughed slightly that visage slipped. He didn’t say anything, but instead, turned and walked back to the wheel. It was one of those that could have belonged on a ship two-hundred years before, maybe it had come from one.
“Untie us,” was all the man said.
Atayo's thoughts ran... maybe this guy was planning on taking him to the sea and sacrificing him to the gods of ocean and wind, people did some weird things. Maybe, he just needed a hand or wanted company. He didn’t give a shit. His feet touched the deck, its pocked and slightly coarse texture felt right, like he’d pictured. He looked back to the canal wall where his things lay, just a few oddments and some cash he hadn’t wanted to get wet.
“My stuff?” Atayo asked.
“You can get it if you’d like, but, I’m leaving now.”
The man watched as Atayo looked back and cringed. There wasn’t much money, but it was all he had, he didn’t care about the other stuff. Yet, to miss this moment…
It was a sharp experience and then one that seemed difficult. Atayo started to untie the boat from the mooring. Every time his hand looped around the hitching, it got easier. By the time he threw the tether aside he had forgotten about his things. Immediately the boat started drifting with the tide which was heading out into the bay. The man stayed quiet and the silence was a solid thing, something that seemed tangible. The silence wasn’t stern but felt implied.
Atayo stayed by the boat’s edge, he watched as the café and canal fell behind. Once they drifted by them, he turned his attention to the bay, beyond the bridge, where the ocean started to take over. The captain hadn’t uttered a word and when Atayo went to speak he was quieted with a gesture. Instead, he turned to enjoying the ride. The bobbing felt slight, easy, like they were gliding.
The boat passed beneath the bridge, it loomed above, casting a shadow across the water. Once beyond it the man called out, telling him to untie another rope, the one the held the sail. It took a moment and felt awkward at first, but, the man didn’t say anything who instead let Atayo struggle, then figure it out. As soon as it was up, the boat launched into motion. It no longer drifted with the tide, it flew atop the waves. The wind picked up and he felt its tug, it’s pull on his hair, it billowed against his face.
It was a moment before he realized the man was calling to him, waving at him to come over. He did and the view was even better. Boats of all sorts sailed and careened through the bay, others drifted along. The captain had their boat pointed straight out aiming for the open sea.
“I’ve seen you sitting by the water watching the boats come and go. Day after day.”
“Really? I didn’t think it was a noticeable thing,” Atayo said.
“Many things can be seen beneath the sun. Here,” he offered, “take the wheel.”
Atayo hesitated, but it didn’t seem to be a moment to do that, he fought it, that quick jab of fear and put his hands on one of the worn wooden spokes. It was heavy and that heaviness seemed to seep into his grip. It was a warm thing. He looked back and the man was looking out to the open water, where the land let go its hold of the bay and ocean took over.
“How does it feel?”
“Good,” Atayo said.
“My life has been on these waters. I imagine all men have their troubles, their hardships. But, they also have their hope, their life and love. I’ve seen how you watch the boats... it is the same way I used to. One day, a man stopped and my life changed. I learned. Many don’t make it. Even the ones that pay or desire, those that dream... Yet… sometimes there is person who wants it more than all around. Sometimes there is someone willing to learn what is needed,” he walked from the helm while Atayo still held the wheel, “And sometimes, they need someone to reach out and give them that chance. I should know, it happened to me.”
Atayo turned with any words dead on his tongue. The captain still stared straight ahead wearing an unmoving gaze, his eyes looked elsewhere, somewhere inside. Atayo felt awkward and turned back to look across the bay.
“Atayo.” He knew his name? “No one can come and take you to your dream. No one is going to give it to you. You must chase it! This boat is simply a vehicle to get there, it isn’t the dream. Learn well, learn quick, your life is in your hands now. It always was anyway.”
There was a splash. Atayo looked back and he found himself alone. It was him, the boat and the ocean. He searched the water for the man but didn’t find anything, the water fell quickly behind. Looking down he found a piece of paper with his name written on it.
“Atayo, the boat is yours.’
The wind whipped through his hair, it came and went in a wild way, he looked ahead, tears streamed freely. He felt like he was dreaming, but knew he wasn’t. He didn’t even know the man’s name. He looked back again, maybe… Off in the distance he thought he saw small splashes of someone swimming, but couldn’t be certain. Waves chopped the scene, making it hard to make anything out in the distance. His hands gripped the wheel which didn’t slip beyond his grasp.
“One day,” he reminded himself.
The End
@writerofage