Issue #20 (2011) PDF - myweb - Long Island University

The room gets brighter, and L sees everything in the darkness. He sees a napkin on the shelf
beside his bunk, the table below. He sees the light switch, sees the lamp by his bunk, and turns it on.
He steps down with the napkin in hand, and on the table he scribbles some words:
I‟ve haywired my brain to be out when I‟m done
when the day is all over, no more to be won
I‟ve poisoned myself as much as I care
so no thoughts will spill out, no more than I dare
I‟ve programmed my life right down to the end
so I have control, this mind shall not bend
I‟ve stapled my soul up on that dark wall
and shown it to none, and shown it to all
I‟ve drank „til I‟m drunk & drank until dawn
„til nothing is left, until I am gone.
L dresses. He turns off the light, takes his key and several beers, and gently shuts the door.
He walks through the ‗forbidden zones‘ like a ghost in the night, roaming the empty hallways,
sensing others asleep in their rooms, confined to their quarters, closed away from any paradise of
this fifteen-hour cruise, broken from happiness like some cruel, twisted joke. He passes the inner
walls like a gust of wind until there‘s no place inside for Jim to hide, then L searches outside.
The strength of the nighttime North Sea is stronger than in daylight, and black and black are
sometimes broken by the white waves crashing and the lights in the distance, other boats that float
in the nothingness. It‘s the outer darkness that L‘s Mormon mother warned him of, constantly
pulling and pushing victims out, never to return. On the starboard side the sea pulls L down, and the
wind intensifies and rips him up even harder. He firmly holds onto a line with both hands, clinging
to his bag of beer, and at one point his feet start to slip from the ground. The winds are so strong, L
starts to fear for his life, realizing just now he‘s no longer in his bunk. But after the strongest wind
there‘s a calm that sits as L stretches his way from the cable to the helm of the deck.
Jim is at the front of the boat, with a rainproof hood over his head. L is very close before
Jim notices, and as Jim looks up there‘s a sight of terror without recognition in his face, but this
quickly turns to a smile and L sits down. The two try to talk at first, but their words are swept out to
sea quicker than can be heard, and they resort to silent contemplation. Occasionally they point out a
distant light, or raise their hands above their heads, but mainly they allow the bumpy night to carry
off their quiet conversation. They stand at the same time and together make their way through the
high winds. Through the entrance door‘s window they see the back of a man somewhat lying down.
He‘s clothed, but his pants are shoved past his hairy butt, two female legs springing from each side
of him, and before turning away they both see him do a pumping motion. Jim and L move back
several feet, not looking at each other.
―I think that was,‖ Jim yells out, staring at the dark sea, ―that was the worst sight I‘ve ever
seen.‖
L doesn‘t respond.
Minutes pass. They hold the rails and look out. Together they move back to the doorway,
passing it without stopping, and look in to see the man and a girl sitting together, fully clothed. Jim
and L step back and go inside.
It‘s almost five in the morning when the last light is extinguished, and at seven a loud voice
begins calling for people to gather their belongings and prepare to dock, as the ferryboat will be
docking in the next two hours. This continues in four consecutive languages at fifteen-minute
intervals for the full two hours, with a loud siren sounding thirty minutes before the ship docks.
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