Stories Not Yet Finished
I get so many ideas that it’s hard to keep up with them and when I get writers block, which is more common than you would think, I move on to another story to refresh myself.
Recently I have been working on a two-part short story. The working title of part one is “The Boy”. Below is a small excerpt from “The Boy” which I hope to release… as soon as I feel it’s ready to be read in its entirety. Enjoy!
The Captain of ‘The Menagerie’ holds many titles; Captain, Collector, Callahan and Father, although the last title is reserved for the boy’s sole use.
I feel him staring at me with his scrutinizing eyes.
Does he care that I’m dying?
Did he care when he watched my mother die?
The boy adds “Monster” to the Captain’s list of titles. He feels something like a finger jab at his side. Moving takes to much energy. So he remains still.
“Aye, he does appear worse for the ware. Have you fed him?” The Captain inquires to a nearby figure.
“Sir, we only have salted beef that’s been stored on deck since our departure from the last port. I know how specific his diet is and we don’t have anything that’ll meet his needs.” It was the first mate, Mr. O’Brien who answers. The boy hears the Captain let out a sigh. “Tell me Mr. O’Brien, what are we surrounded by?” His voice was filled with a calm agitation. The Captain was known for losing his temper often. Mr. O’Brien knew he had a limited option of responses. Go with your gut, O’Brien told himself. “The sea, Captain.” A twisted smile crept across the Captain’s face. Here it comes O’Brien thought. O’Brien braced for what the Captain would say next. “Aye, very good Mr. O’Brien. Now tell me, from where do we acquire the items on my son’s ‘special diet’?” I’m in for it now – O’Brien knew. Be firm in your response man. O’Brien was right, the Captain didn’t respond well to ignorance, especially not from his first mate. “The sea, Captain.” O’Brien was beginning to sweat, and not due to the sun being at its peak in the sky. “Aye, so now tell me, what are we lacking to feed my sons requirements?” Mr. O’Brien knew the answer but the Captain wasn’t going to be happy with the excuse. Even so he answered, “Captain, Mr. Mayer has picked up on a potentially dangerous storm headed our way. In your absence,” This may be the wrong thing to say. The Captain wasn’t fond of when people pointed out when he was missed on deck. The Captain, for as long as the boy could remember was fond of his drink and recently it was becoming something of an obsession, like everything else the Captain was fond of. He didn’t want the the crew thinking he was weak and did his best to hide his excess, however the boy could always smell it on him. O’Brien continued, “I was forced to make a choice. The crew’s safety is among my chief concerns. I dispatched every hand on deck to secure the ship and your, collection.” O’Brien turned to glance slightly at the boy who all the while still laid on the deck, appearing to slip in and out of consciousness. The boy understood very little of what they were saying. Not because he was unintelligent, not because of his youthful naivety, but because he was near the brink of blacking out completely.