The Sea Dog

Photo: Collected

SHAH TAZRIAN ASHRAFI

Daunting slashes of lavender light lit up the moonless night sky that only sobbed loud. The long, azure body of water curled into a colossal arch form with a raging motive of claiming the seafarers. The wooden vessel was under the sea’s clasp, as if the sea grew big hands and thumped its body like it would’ve broken a door to jewels. The rain, the waves, and the lightning exuded the music of destruction and fused together in an attempt to crumble the ship into floating chunks of woods.

“The animals fell into the sea, Captain Francis!!” Ophelia cried as she held onto a pillar while constantly having her head banged against it.

Captain Francis couldn’t hear what Ophelia said as the storm was deafening enough already.

“Everyone proceed to the sailors’ cabin now!!” he shouted as some tough veins exhibited around his jugular region while he laced his fingers strongly around the helm.

Ophelia came in minutes after and equipped the captain with some support as she held onto the other helm.

“Where are Morgan, Blackbeard, and the rest?” Francis shouted in Ophelia’s ear as the sea demanded only its voice be heard.

“I don’t think they made it. The cages of zebras, horses, and tigers, they all fell into the sea too!! Ophelia screamed in Francis’ ear as a reply.

Francis’ hand turned numb since he put all his energy into the helm for dodging the waves that didn’t calm. Ophelia, however, kept steering hers with fragments of hopes fastened around her soft hands.

“Captain, I don’t think I can continue. It’s flustering. One wrong move, and we are under the blessings of the mermaids,” said Ophelia while adjusting her iris firm to the window as her forehead painted some lines on it.

“Did Sir Henry make it?” Francis asked while pressing his left hand with the right as an attempt to elevate the numbness.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s still sleeping in his cabin,” replied Ophelia while having her focus firm on the pounding waves.

Francis immediately rushed out of the room to Master Henry’s cabin, as if he brimmed with hopes while Ophelia had her hands glued to the helm.

He held onto the strong pillars and handles hammered to the wooden wall to make it to the cabin instead of letting the motion pummel him down into the ocean like a perpetual succession of fists.

Drenched and gasping, he loudly slammed Master Henry’s cabin door with a barrel while crying out his name loudly. His white skin turned pink. Suddenly, the ship swayed to the opposite of Francis’ position, and he somehow managed to grasp the cabin’s metallic handle while the barrels along with some broken pillars rammed into the railings. Minutes later, Master Henry opened the door slightly, and his aged voice demanded, “Come in!!”

Francis rushed inside and got on his knees. “We need you master Henry. Only your hands can help us escape this calamity,” pleaded Francis while kneading Henry’s wrinkled skin.

The master stubbed his cigarette on the ashtray while his smile broadened, signaling his consent, as a locket slung from his neck, which boasted the words “Sea Dog” on its rusty metal plate.

“Aid me to the helm, Captain. We have a storm to dodge,” asserted the Sea Dog in the lit of his elderly timbre, as if confidence exuded from his skin.