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The Merlin Factor. Chapter Seventeen.
Topic Started: Dec 17 2015, 08:26 PM (96 Views)
crow
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The Merlin Factor. Chapter Seventeen.

Part Three: The Ocean.

Acceptance.


South of the North Pacific High, 1990.


I was sinking. Down, down, into nothingness.

I thrashed, startled, feeling something brush against me. Something sharp and ragged. A shark. A sea monster. Something too horrible to even have a name. Oh get it over with, damn you! Finish it! Suddenly I knew what it was and lunged after it. Oh God! Don't let it slip away now! Oh please!

The ripped-away transom tore the side of my face as another curling crest caught it and threw it hard against me. I didn't care. I cackled hysterically as I scrabbled for a hand-hold. Something solid in a seething, liquid world of inky black terror. I clung to it for minutes. Or hours. Finally I explored it for whatever it might still have to offer. The outboard was gone. Just as well. The little makeshift raft never would have floated back up otherwise. The motor bracket was bent and twisted, but it still had its frayed four-foot lifting line attached. There was a U-bolt somewhere, wasn't there?
I screamed as a wave tore the flat, foam-filled plywood semicircle sheet away from me; scrabbled frantically after it as it skittered away downwind. It's needle-sharp, torn fiberglass edge raked my forehead as I caught up with it again, hauling myself up and on top, frantically wrapping the line around my waist and knotting the free end to the U-bolt. There...

My heart hammered louder than the fury of the cyclone as I measured the distance that separated me from death. So very small. Oh my God. I was a thousand miles out to sea. Alone. I might as well already be dead...

I lay there. Hour after hour. I'd drift off into a kind of half-sleep, impossible as it might seem, tossed as I was, up and down, to and fro by giant growlers. Every time my body would let go, another wave would bury me, choking out my life and submerging me and my little plywood raft for long seconds, a protracted, enduring nightmare.

Little by little, though, the wind lessened and the waves began to spread out, lose their wind-blown plumes and flatten into what might still prove to be a survivable pattern. Infinitely slowly, the blackness began to move back into a murky grey, and before too long, into a lighter grey. Colossal pale shapes raced across the sky like fantastic shadow-dragons, and finally, believing I was dreaming, found I was.

Some time later I opened my eyes, my soul scrunching up inside me as I remembered where I was. The nylon line had burned a deep furrow across my stomach and it stung like the very devil in its sharp, salt bath. I raised my head, heavy with water, and groaned at the lifting, toppling expanse of grey-blue waves, reaching out forever.

What a lonely, lonely place. Oh Jacques. Surely we were thrown together for a reason? Surely you were meant to turn the boat around and come back to save me. Surely...

The sun climbed higher and soon the waves were no more than a lumpy swell, on their mindless way to wherever the wind had gone. Uncaring that I hung there, weightless, suspended between heaven and hell, gasping out my life.

Cold.

I drifted. In and out of pale, labyrinthine corridors, thinking less and less. Not much point in hoping for anything much. Not now. The crazy Frenchman would never find me anyway, even if he'd managed to somehow save the boat. How many hours had it been? How many days? I'd come to this empty, nameless place of my own accord. No one knew where I was. No one cared. I was utterly, completely alone. The last man on earth. A grey and flooded planet, washed clean, finally, of its sickening disease and corruption.
I smiled. A sick, watery smile. It wasn't so bad. I'd never have to stand stunned at the inhuman, impossibly uncaring attitude of another government employee. Never have to endure the humiliation of being arbitrarily scrutinized, held, arrested by an ignorant, machine-like traffic cop. Never have to bow. To anybody. Ever again. It wasn't so bad.

Marion.

The name flashed across my awareness and was gone. Now where had that come from? Marion? Nice name though. Nice, comforting name...
I held it. Ran it around my mouth. Built a little fantasy around it. Hmmm. Let's see. She would be older than me. Not too old. No. Just the right age. Motherly. She would welcome me home, pat me dry, soothe me to sleep after all this danger. Warm. She wouldn't be a feminist. Nothing at all like those ludicrous, neurotic, phoney females I had finally given up on in disgust. European. Yes. A woman with some idea of her place in the grand scheme of things. Not interested only in trying to out-do all men. More interested in complementing her chosen man. Adding to him. Allowing him to add to her. She would understand that a man needs to feel like a Man. And not be made to feel guilty about it. She would understand violence. Understand that violence is a necessary part of men. She wouldn't be threatened by it. Wouldn't band together with other women to bully lawmakers into passing new and ever more ridiculous laws to prohibit any manifestation of masculinity. She would, in fact, be perfect. Wise. Gentle. She would admire her man, knowing, in her wisdom, that her admiration of him would bring out his admirable points. A woman like that would lead. She might lead from behind, but still, she would lead. She would not be afraid...

I giggled. Coughed. It was so funny. I'd never met a woman like that. And now I never would. Women. Put a man on a piece of splintered plywood, way out in the middle of an ocean, and what does he do? He thinks about women. What else? I wondered why this was. Why, when women were so incredibly unsatisfactory, would men spend so much time thinking about them? Very mysterious...

The wind died completely away and the sun was warm. Friendly even.
"Okay," it seemed to be saying. "Okay. So you made it through our little joke. Good for you, human. Good show! Now we'll have a nice little break from the power and the fury and we'll see what to do about all of this. And yes. We'll become good friends, you and I. Why not?"

I levered myself into a graceless, splayed-out sitting position, adjusted the garroting nylon at my waist and realized how hungry I was. No food. No water. Another giggle. I could no longer take it seriously. It was too silly. Too improbable that something like this should happen to someone like me. I was forever young, as every man is, until one day he discovers, by accident, that he is old.
I wondered just when it had happened that I had become old. I hadn't even noticed it.

I caught a movement, way off among the waves. A knife-like cutting of water. Gone in an instant. I searched the waters but found nothing until, not twenty yards distant, a tall, pale-grey fin materialized and cut towards me at astounding speed. My heart stopped dead. Whack. Frozen. I heaved my legs onto the raft so fast that I nearly fell over the back of it into the sea. Would have, but for the knotted line. Suddenly aware of the weeping lacerations on my face and shins, I scanned the water around me, unable to breathe. Sharks terrified me. Always had. I'd thought I might be able to handle drowning, but sharks? The transom tilted at a crazy angle as the monster thumped it from beneath, investigating this unlikely thing that smelled so very good.
I scrabbled frantically at the motor-bracket, feeling how close the plywood was to capsizing completely and casting me into those razor jaws. No sooner had I painted the ghastly image across the taut-stretched canvas of my mind than the thing appeared, right beside me, taking a look at this welcome little culinary tidbit so far from shore.

I stared back at it. Frozen. I'd seen pictures of these killers. Great White. The nastiest piece of work ever to cruise the seven seas. Row after row of needle-sharp, triangular teeth, set in a monster jaw that hinged back like a Sidewinder's, to swallow meals the size of Douglas Firs at one or two snaps. Make your peace, Davey me lad. Quick. This is the end of the line.
It hung there, suspended, as if surprised to see me before sinking away with a quick flurry of muscle and fin. I couldn't move. Maybe it would go away? The tall fin broke the surface almost fifty yards away, shook from side to side and lunged forwards, white water creaming from its bow like a destroyer at flank speed.
"Aaaaahhhhhhh......!"
The groan was something straight out of prehistoric days. The very same sound that was the final sound of every man who ever lived and who ever died a violent death. I didn't move. There was no point. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do but die. Only yards from the raft, its head broke the surface and the terrifying jaws opened wider than a train tunnel. My eyes were frozen open. Hairs stiff and straight on my scalp. Oh the horror! A green-blue bulge lifted the water just in front of the speeding demon and an enormously long, serrated shape erupted from the deep, itself hinged to some vast, submarine-sized projectile, to clap shut with a spine-chilling "sckrumphhh!" around the rushing shark. A blood-curdling, alien scream as the monster exploded into flying foam and bubbling red froth. A scream so loud I felt my eardrums bounce. God Almighty! Ohhh.....

The shock of impact sent the little raft somersaulting through the air to land, upside down, yards away. I thrashed around beneath the water, deafening pings and grunts battering at my brain. What? What? I tore the line free of my waist and shot to the surface, in the midst of a nightmare so fantastic my mind could not process it. All I could do was let my body do what ever it wanted while I shrank back and cowered, awaiting developments. Nothing. Nothing but a gaping, swirling depression in the water and boiling bubbles exploding into foul, fish-tainted vapor.

My body was something to admire. I was so proud of it. Who would have thought such a skinny, battered vehicle could last so long? It battled on, mindlessly treading water while I tried to climb back inside. It shrank from me as I approached, terrified and skittish. Finally though, it gasped and let me back in, like a pilot into his cockpit, easing down into his tight, familiar space, testing the controls, running up the engine...

I liked the image. I felt just like a pilot. So familiar, so...
Aaaahh! Oh Jesus! Not again! Some tremendous, rubbery bulk rose against my windmilling legs and moved slowly by. I doubled up, lifting away from whatever it was. It kept on coming. Coming, until I had no more room to shy away. I was lifted out of the water on the back of...
I sobbed and collapsed, gasping for relief. I couldn't go another step. I was finished. Too much. Just too much. My mind shrank into a tight little ball while my brave, brave body passed out, twitching in reaction to the final surges of current that had kept it going long, long past its limit.

*****

When I opened my eyes again, I still wasn't dead. Maybe I never would be. Or else I always had been. Hard to know. Nothing could be compared to anything I had ever known or felt before.

The sea was foaming past at what - I automatically estimated - four? five? Maybe five knots, and here I still was.
A whale! Too much. Oh wow. Oh. Would anyone be able to deal with this? A whale! I held on, feeling the slightly warm, pliant skin. It wouldn't help for long anyway. It would sound before long. Dive away down into the depths of the ocean. I would either be left on the surface to drown, or else be sucked down after its enormous bulk to pop like a bubble under the vast pressures of the abyss.

I stood up. Took a walk. What the hell difference did it make if I fell off? It felt so strange to be able to walk around out here. I slipped and fell again, scrabbling to catch a hand-hold on the sometimes smooth, sometimes barnacle-encrusted expanse. The brave, brave body just wouldn't lie down and give up.

I grew bolder. Or crazier. I half walked, half crawled up past the hump and presently to what, to a whale, must have passed for shoulders. I cautiously gazed into the big, sphincter-like blow hole, beginning to feel like Jonah. What a big fish! What an unlikely way to spend my day! The whale rolled. Very slowly, but determinedly. I had to gradually move around to its flank to stay on board. The eye appeared from the great, slab-side and I backed away at first, unwilling to really accept that this great, dark, apartment-block sized monstrosity was a living, breathing creature, just like me.

It crossed my mind that this was a sperm whale. The image of the long serrated jaw spearing up from the depths was still vivid in my mind. The largest carnivore the world has ever known. Bar none. And here I was, I kept reminding myself, here I was sitting on its head.

The eye blinked. The slow shuttering of a cloudy, tidal pool. A long pause. The raising of some heavy, dense curtain. It blinked. Strange that such a reflex action should make this leviathan almost human. I crawled closer. Cautious but thrilled. Could it be? Could this be the very same whale? We gazed at each other. Silence. The very world stopped and watched, intrigued at this bizarre event. Hypnotized, I closed the inches that separated us. That eye. Slimy, tubular creatures slithered over its surface. Nightmarish things with claws and suckers. Frightening, horrible things.

Please? A feeling. A strange, vast feeling. A tear falling to join with the ocean.

I reached forward and touched. The things squirmed, afraid now. Arching and scrabbling. I threw one, then another, and still another out in a curving, short-lived arc to plop into the waters from which they'd come. They came with anger, sinking minute jaws into my fingers and leaving behind them little pits in the giant's eye. A vast wave of relief washed over me. And gratitude. A high pitched clicking from somewhere deep, deep inside. A squeal. A moan. I fell into the vastness of this thing. The dark one. The little shape of wood. What? An image of Jacques Merlin sprang into my mind. I saw him vanishing into the night along with my trimaran. I had forgotten about him. Astounding! Come. Not far. Soon. Vast. Vast emotion. Vast body. Vast intellect. Vast age. Everything vast. Vastness. Quiet, contemplating vastness. I was a dwarf. Small and petty. Shallow and no-account. Vast amusement. I was so insignificant. So foolish. Vast sympathy. I took a chance. I loved this whale. Vast affection. A wave of pleasure so intense it almost threw me back into the water. Uh. Whew. Vast. An image of a sucking baby. Weighing tons. Milk. Warmth. Comfort. All so vast. Another blink. Come...

It went on for an unknowable portion of time, for here, now, there was no time. It became clearer and clearer. There never was such a thing as time. No time. They never gave you any time. Never any time. But who were they?

I laughed and sobbed, soaring through the vast caverns of this wonderful creature's fluted skull. An old soldier. Scarred and busted from crabby squid. Retired now; slow and amiable. We played. I collected jewels. Little, compact things that glowed like burning coals and felt like wave-washed rocks. Full, they were. Full of precious things I'd explore later. Blubber, warm, slippery, wet. Marion's breasts. Marion! Hmmm. It said. Hmmm. It was old. Needing rest. It withdrew, slowly, as was its way. Further back. Bye-bye. Nice to have seen you...

The eye blinked and the beast began to roll. Slowly, slowly. I walked it like a lumberjack, walking the biggest log in history. Up and up the protoplasmic mountain. Over the top to freeze in stunned disbelief...

In spellbound wonder!

The dory. Bobbing prettily a stone's throw away. I started to laugh. Small laughs. Soon they were larger laughs. A heaviness left my heart for ever. Ha! Who needed it? Gone.

Freedom! Oh sweet freedom!

I kissed the whale. Laughing at this thing. I kissed the whale! Jesus! This was great! I'd actually kissed a whale! Great! Thanks! 'Bye!

In a few kicks I'd made it. Had a hell of a time dragging myself inside the thing, but by and by I made it. The sun filled my heart with fine, yellow gold. I added it to my collection of thought-filled jewels.
I waved. 'Bye!
The whale sighed. A vast, tired, amiable sigh, lowering its profile in the water, sinking down. It blinked. Down. 'Bye!
I rested my chin on the gunwale of the dory, mouth slack and happy, until the last ripple had smoothed away to nothing.

Well, you know, I'd come a long way. Something basic had changed. Some key had turned inside some old, rusty lock and suddenly I'd found the answers. I'd be out here forever. Floating around, getting thinner and thinner. How had he said it?
"Dave," he'd said. "Dave, you don't catch fish because you don't need them. You don't even welcome them. Everything on the face of the earth needs to be needed. Including fish. Go on. Try it. It is really very simple..." Or something like that.

The first flying fish slithered in on final approach. Thump. Ah. I knew I could do it. More were in the circuit...
Oh Jacques! I hope you're fine. You have my beautiful, transom-less trimaran and I have your beautiful, sail-less boat. Hell of a trade. Can't complain. I'll take it.

The sun sank down over the horizon and it was warm again. Calm as a millpond. Eerie. Not weird eerie. Just - eerie. I made myself not wet, just for practice.
"I am not wet," I'd said, and sure enough, I wasn't. Perfect. Almost.

There being no time out here, I didn't worry about the passage of it. Not having any reason to abide by any particular set of rules or to behave in any particular way, I didn't. Why should I? The result, of course was that I became quite mad. I'd chatter and scratch, sucking the goodness out of fish, reminding myself how fortunate I was to have so many fine, caring friends. They loved it. Fish of all shapes and sizes. Lining up, they were. Hard to be fair to everyone. Just to be out here at all, away from the dread normality of that other, far-off life. No possessions, nothing to spoil my day, floating around in the middle of nowhere, for ever, in a borrowed wooden boat.

"You can stuff it!" I'd yell, pissing overboard. I knew nobody could hear.
"You can keep your dumb credit cards and autos and heart attacks!"

I'd masturbate sometimes, for the hell of it. Try to dredge up something exciting, some restricted fantasy interesting enough to make it worth the energy. The sperm was great for sunburn.

Marion.

The name wouldn't go away.

Jacques dropped in from time to time. Checking up on me, so he was. He'd lie there, grinning, hands clasped behind his head, agreeing that yes, indeed, this was the life. Couldn't beat it. His English was better than mine. He told me the trimaran had broken up that same night. Divided itself up into three little boats and gone its separate ways. He reckoned it was happy.
Kilo had stayed with the main hull. He laughed at the memory. She had been rather horrified at first, and who could blame her? A cat is just as unwilling to drown as a man, maybe more so. Jacques had soothed her, scratching behind her ears until she had begun to purr, before giving her a crash course in the simple art of deep-sea fishing. They had, of course, been the best of friends.
"She was one of the best students I 'ave ever 'ad," he'd laughed. "Enthusiastic as only an 'ungry cat could be." She had soon learned to attract the fish, calling to them in her tiny mind, admiring their shining, muscled sides, and of course, they had come running. Swimming. Eager to play their part in the whole magical circle of life and death. It made me happier. I'd wondered what had become of her. It was nice to imagine her scooping up fish from the inexhaustible larder of the sea. Sunning herself on the cabin trunk when the weather was fine; cleaning her fur, inside, when it was not. In all likelihood, she'd finally wash up on some perfect, distant shore. I hoped so. I missed her foolish ways. And me, he asked. How was it with me?
"Have you found what you were seeking, mon vieux? Is the journey worth the trouble?"
"Hell, Jacques. What do I know? I guess so. I guess it could only be better if..." I scratched my head, wondering what was missing.
"Ah." He held up a finger and it seemed to glow in the dark. "Like all sailors, what you lack is a woman."
There. That was it. Must have slipped my mind.
"I have the pleasure to inform you, Dave, that this too shall come to pass. Patience. All is well. You will see."
I laughed at him. He was so funny sometimes. A Mermaid, for instance? Some kind of Siren, perhaps? Didn't fancy a squid. Not really my type. Too long. And all those suckers! I meant to say something along these lines but there he was, doing what he always did just as things were getting really interesting. Fading away into nothing. Shimmering. Becoming transparent. Gone.

*****

"Squawk!" said the crow, and then made space.
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