CADO [DISCONTINUED]

= Ch 5: Back at the Helm =

"The ship isn't as responsive as you might think. Little movements sometimes mean nothing. But a lot of little movements together - that means something."

    The boards below my feet gently roll under my boots; the bright day shines overhead.

    "Be patient with it..." The smoothed wood under my hands bears the wear of many storms. "...and it will listen. Do you understand me?"

    No reply.

    "...as First Mate, you'll have to take the helm sometimes. You know that, right?"

    "Ok," mutters a gruff voice. To my right stands our latest recruit. His brunette, greasy hair and fancy, orange coat paint a striking image: a well-to-do young man, setting out to sea - spry, handsome, and most definitely a bit bastardly.

    He calls himself Carnage. Apparently.

    "Do I actually have to know how to sail?" he whines.

    I sigh, leaning on the wheel. "I mean... I know how to, but so long as you make sure to move the waves and have islands approach when you want -"

    "Then what's the point of this? Let's cut to some action!"

    "Action? Already? I just had a-"

    "I have the perfect idea." He grins. "Don't worry. It's going to be great."

    A part of me bristles; the rest of me feels squished out of having an opinion. "...fine. What's your idea?"

    "A surprise."

    "And? I just want to make sure the story is moving like it should."

    "As it should? Okay, boss. And how 'should' it?"

    Come on, Catherine. Speak up. "I have some ideas. But first - don't you at least want a tour of the boat?"

    "I'm good."

    Beneath the surface, my nerves churn with an ancient current; my palms dampen themselves with arctic sweat. I'd nearly forgotten how exhausting people are, how tired I am of them. What is this? This is anxiety, isn't it? I try to shove the feeling down my throat, but it lingers in my voice.

"We need to be on the same page. I'm giving you a tour."

"Okay, okay."

I've bought time to calm down.

Through the cramped halls and winding stairways of the ship, I show him each room I've established. A kitchen, a galley of hammocks with a table at the center, storage rooms - all of them.

"I hope that it'll stay mostly the same," I explain, leading him down the last flight of dinky stairs. "It's ok if little stuff changes - everything changes a little - but no extra unexpected rooms."

"That's boring."

"Maybe. But I've worked on making this ship for weeks, and it's finally stable."

"What do you mean by 'stable'?" He gives me a weird look.

I pause, slowing my steps. "Well, uh...this ship exists in whatever way I want it to. So, if I forget something, something might change without me noticing." I shrug, looking back at him. "It's just little stuff now, but it used to be worse. Once, I thought I'd lost everything. It just vanished."

"...Huh."

"I think it's... you know how you can remember your room almost exactly? But you can't remember the little details? Things stay the same, but the little details shift i-"