The Ship

Once I joined the crew of a ship I had seen in the harbor. I wouldn't say it was the ship of my dreams, but it was a beautiful ship, far more good things than bad about it. And, besides, not everyone got to join ships in their life.

So we embarked on our voyage, through good weather bad, choppy sea and calm. Damage was taken, and repairs were made. And all were, if not always happy, at least content.

Over time, I started to notice that I was taking on more and more of the maintenance work. My workload steadily increased until I found myself fixing all the damage and cleaning all the messes. I considered quitting, but even being overworked on a ship is better than not being on a ship at all, and besides, this was my ship and I had more than a passing interest in its success. So I stuck with the ship. Good times or bad, this was my ship.

Until one day there was a mighty storm and I was knocked overboard. I screamed and I yelled and I begged to be thrown a life preserver, a rope, anything. But no help came. I considered myself forsaken, but the ship never pulled away, so I was never fully alone. Over time, I found boards and logs enough to make myself a raft. I floated for more days beyond my count on my raft, keeping pace with the ship, it seemingly neither wanting nor needing me and myself making do with what I had, but afraid to leave the ship iin case it needed repair.

One day the ship and I came across another ship that seemed to periodically be throwing its garbage and waste onto a girl floating on a raft alongside it. She would yell and beg for a rope, life preserver, anything to help her back on board. But the only answer she received was the garbage thrown overboard.

Using a board I had found a few days previously, I paddled over to her and asked what her story was. Not surprisingly, it was very similar to mine, the only difference being instead of apathy, she received mistreatment. We floated this way for several days, the girl, myself, and our respective boats that seemed to become less a part of us as time went on.

Eventually, the girl and I decided that we could do without the ships and decided to make our own way in the world. So we began to paddle away. The ships, seeing that we were no longer following and now seeing that they no longer had us to repair their damage, turned around to pace us and threw us the ropes that we had been begging for.

But the current had taken hold of our rafts and though it was keeping us together, we were just out of reach of the ships. I looked at her to see the pang of regret I felt in my heart echoed in her eyes. If only they had thrown those ropes just a little sooner, we would both be back onboard by now.

We consoled ourselves with the fact that if the ships truly wanted us back, they would have thrown the ropes long ago and we were not to blame. So, with a final, sad wave to those we were leaving behind, we began to build our own dream boat.

Together.