New Homeport Island Part 15

Artimus looked around and at the shear absurdity of it he knew it was genuine. GSM1 Hudlow had become the king.

Artimus said, "Okay, but first are you the king of just the beach...just here" Hudlow replied as he pointed down, then at himself then at the other town, "Lower island, King, and over there is the island republic. The wall they built because of you is still up; I call it 'Dave'."

Artimus said, "Okay, there was a storm, Smity's p.u.s.s.y hurt, lots of water, more rain, lost, more islands, back here...ya, two years." Hudlow responded, "Tell me about the water."

Artimus replied, "Blue, wet, deep, cold" King Hudlow smirked then smiled and said as he leaned in as to share a secret, "Ya, d.a.m.n cold" and laughed like they had shared a joke. Artimus was thrown off a bit and laughed too, then asked, "Am I a prisoner over here." Hudlow again leaned in and then glanced around as if to make sure no one was listening and said in an elevated volume, "Let me put it this way...Your d.a.m.n right you are!"

His Majesty was at his highest form, Artimus once depicted in a shadow puppet play as a four headed snake with a tiny human p.e.n.i.s, was in defeat and acceptance simultaneously and awaited the consequence of that type of surrender when he said, "I brought the boat back."

Hudlow replied, "You stole that from them, you stole something more complicated from us...hope." Hudlow looked around to ensure everyone was listening and again raised his voice as he said, "I mean they have a G.o.d d.a.m.n hot air balloon!

They fly! I s.h.i.+t on a stone toilet...and flus.h.i.+ng that d.a.m.n thing takes twenty people!"

The practical matters cut through to Artimus, in his view you can argue philosophy all day long and at the end of the day win or lose nothing changes, but change a man's brand of coffee and change the world.

Artimus said, "Well maybe there's something I can offer you." Hudlow interjected, "Your left nut?" The look in Hudlow's eyes made Artimus terrified as he realized he was sincere. Artimus looked for Wildly in the crowd and had a flash through his mind of the two of them running back to the boat and setting to sea escaping a horrible fate and then asked, "Why didn't someone build another one?" Hudlow was taken back with visible astonishment in his eyes and Artimus began to smile believing briefly that they just hadn't thought of that until King Hudlow uttered the surprising reply of, "f.u.c.k you."

Hudlow pointed behind him with his thumb and yelled in outrage at Artimus, "They wear dresses over there!" Artimus looked around and Hudlow added, "They look like miniskirts!"

Artimus pointed with an inquisitive look at Becky Clarkson and Hudlow looked over and replied, "Well, ya...sure. She's a girl!"

And Artimus speechless and feeling dizzy nodded his understanding. Hudlow smiled at Artimus's discomfort and said, "I am the king here, and I promise you, I am going to help you make this right. No matter how tired you get. No matter how sick. No matter how wet or cold or deep or blue. I will make you, make this right." And with a smile and a nod he walked to his short hut to yell at the top of his voice before sending out everyone to fish. And as he entered his short hut he yelled, "Washam put him to work!"

As Artimus followed Washam down to the beach, he noticed everyone was stripping off clothing. Dave asked, "What's going on?" Washam replied, "It's almost fis.h.i.+ng time."

Dave asked, "just you and me!?" Washam smirked and said, "Everyone...even the king."

As they swam with nets and spears with the boat watching for anyone drowning or sharks, Dave swimming next to Hudlow asked, "If you're the king then why do you work?" Hudlow responded with a laugh, "This is how we do everything.

Together." Dave Artimus was taken aback by the celebration of victory at every fish caught. He looked as though he finally found his place.

Dave swam down deep and dragged a net over some fish then swam below them as it floated down, once they swam into the net he swam away as fast as he could with the cinching line tied to his waist. Just as they had he swam to the surface and went into a back stroke as he hauled in that line and called out, "I got some!" The boat moved to him and hauled it in they held up his net and everyone cheered then returned to their fis.h.i.+ng.

He was asked by Branson in the boat, "You need another net?

Or are you good?" Dave asked, "What am I supposed to do now?" Branson responded, "Help them if you can. You caught some so if you're too tired you can resign to the beach." Dave replied, "I'll just help." and Branson handed him a spear.

The cleaning of the Woodenpeg was going well and new sails were being woven. When first built we knew who our sailors were to be, they were the best with the fis.h.i.+ng boat now we were all proficient at sea. Our navigational circle was more complete than it had been the first time we tried to launch. The weather patterns would be worked out from the weather tower.

While the weather tower was being rebuilt and the supplies for the trip were being ama.s.sed there was anxiousness about all the island inhabitants. I went to my work shop to review my private plans.

An emergency hot air balloon would not be necessary so I set those plans aside. The lenses I was refining for a telescope would sit be needed so I left those where they lay. The star and moon movement clock I had to wind every day and the refined charts I had made with it were ready.

I stepped back and looked out at the sea; we had been here so long. Artimus and the thieves had returned and considered our behavior strange, at least something they didn't recognize. It seemed to me they hadn't changed.

We all wondered why they had found us, or if they had even looked. Artimus had a tendency of p.i.s.sing off his superiors before and immediately after p.i.s.sing off his subordinates; I figured, 'No way in h.e.l.l did that help'

Chapter sixteen.

Reflections.

We performed the circles around the island we had intended before the boat was stolen. Day and night the s.h.i.+p sailed circles around the island. We took our time working things out, performing training missions. We sent our crews out to the borders of our horizon for an overnight anchorage only to sail back in the morning. This time we would succeed.

In a senate meeting the compet.i.tion between Athena and Mich.e.l.le struck again, and it was decided we would use our balloon crane to build a stone pier primarily from rocks under the water pinned with wooden poles, which was then argued to an entire harbor wall made from blocks with mortar on land then lowered into place by the balloon crane. We lacked any volcanic ash for setting cement underwater so the harbor wall was actually more stable.

I don't think I was the only one hesitant about return to society in America; no one seemed to be in a rush. Or at least that's how I remember it now.

Last night Athena and I walked along that harbor wall, built fifteen years ago. We still fly small balloons and paper lanterns our just a part of our culture. Dave Artimus was there watching the paper lanterns rise up from the harbor. Once our s.h.i.+p had reached America we had been rescued by a merchant marine s.h.i.+p. Upon returning to our nation we discovered we no longer fit in. We sought each other out and fled back to the island. Now we reside here, Dave found everything he had had been washed away by the belief he was dead and only complicated by the realization some of what he had was only an illusion to begin with. Dave stood there in a navy pea coat and turned to us and asked, "Was it all worth it?" that was the question he had asked himself for years and could never fix on one answer that felt accurate. We just smiled at him as he looked away nodding, over the years that had become a philosophical question that had no true answer, it only provoked introspective.

Tomorrow was harvest day and in memory of the reign of King Hudlow who now lives back in America we all harvest our new crops of wheat, and tomato, grapes, and oranges as well as the sorghum and leeches. The fis.h.i.+ng extravaganza follows and just before night we watch people swing on high from a hot air balloon, followed by more paper lanterns at night.

The former master chief had left the island for a few more years than the rest of us for a lecture circuit. But the questions he was asked showed the current generations would never understand. It seemed so simple to them as though everyone and everything is only a phone call away. But the sea remains hungry and after a couple more years on the island he pa.s.sed away here with his wife Charlie in attendance.

Right now she sits in a decorative garden we call 'The weeping garden' The stone walls bear spirals, lines, and other designs, to remind us, when the Woodenpeg left for rescue hope had once again left us, we couldn't eat or sleep. We lived in stone homes with bare walls and we starred at those walls, deep in hunger and sleep deprived, it was like being swallowed by the earth.

During the day our children play in the fields and learn from us...an entire island being 'home schooled' we joked. Box kites are of particular fancy to them, especially making the paper thin enough but also strong enough; it's like a compet.i.tion to them.

They have little interest in domino games but the Chinese checkers are fun. I tell them, 'Of all the stories untold, you are the result. Thus, the answer is you.' which is taken for deep and prophetic until they are old enough to realize I'm probably just talking about s.e.x and then I laugh.

The Woodenpeg sits 'reefed' on an artificial reef off the north coast, so that we never lose hope again. Our weather tower stands strong and proud with a sister tower it is bridged to for structural stability.

Mich.e.l.le handles island commerce and we exist as a U.S. territory with our own system of government we tailored for ourselves. We refer to it as 'Monarchy Absentia' the king is away and the senate maintains governance over the lower island with the help of the whole d.a.m.ned world. I like to think of us of the republic as the Olympians back on Olympus, the island upon an island atop a mountain. So I put a stone pedestal in the cistern on the mountain so I could be there if I needed escape. I explained it was just to check the water level and everyone allowed me my eccentricity.

Watching the kids run down our cobblestone roads is my favorite part of life now, and that sight gives us all pause. I struggle with my mechanical computer as a mockery of all technology we lived without for so long. I wear a funny stocking cap and pa.s.s out flowers to young women that have to remind me we may be related since the island is so small.

I suppose that's just the fate of a sailor.

Copyright 2015 All Rights reserved.

By Robert Lyon.

Any similarity to persons alive or dead is entirely coincidental or proof of criminal misconduct of said individuals; if you served on the Paul F Foster DD-964, which falls under fair use, especially during my service there then please drink three cla.s.ses of sangria wine while listening to Willie Nelsons "To all the girls I've loved before." and wait for the screen to fade to black. May your PTSD die before you do.

end.