The Fantasy--1

The first thing he became aware of was the smell. It was old, wet wood and flotsam. The shaaah, shaaah of the water against the pier explained it. It was the ocean, or an exceedingly large lake. It was very dark. It was an oppressive green-brown-black darkness like a cave, not the clear, blue-black darkness of night. There didn't seem to be any stars and there was no moon. He tried looking around and a storm lamp came to life, old and dirty as it was. It dangled from a post by a length of half-rotted rope. It cast a half-hearted yellow light on the black water and the pier.

He stood there for goodness knows how long, staring with unfocused eyes into the blackness as he tried to sense of it all. But his brain refused to cooperate and he continued to just stare. After a tie that could have been five seconds or five hours, he became aware of the sound of a bell. Not a little dinner or a church bell, but somewhere in-between. A ship's bell.

"Ahooooooy!" A voice floated across the water. He squinted into the distance. The voice hailed again, and suddenly he was able to spot a ship gliding majestically towards him. He did not know exactly what kind of ship it was, but it brought to mind high adventure and swashbuckling. It pulled right up to the pier and he could get a feel for how large it was. He has to turn his head to see the ends and look straight up to see the deck.

"Oy! You!" A head poked over the railing. "What're you doin' 'ere?" He was surprised beyond all reason to see a fellow man. Since there was more humanity than just him, he must somehow differentiate himself from them. So there must be a "me" and a "them". An "I" and a "they". All he—I--could do was gape at the revelation. "'Old on. I'm comin' down. Bobby! OY! Tell Gustav that we found one o' them freaky types." A rope ladder tumbled down the side of the ship and a man slid down it.

He was rather short, but built like a bull dog. "What the 'ell are you doin' ere, boy?" He said belligerently. The "boy"--I--could only gape at the man in unreasonable amazement and confusion. The man reeled back scowling as if he had been struck. "Use your words! Honestly!" he cried.
"Erik!"
"Aye, sir!" The man named Erik looked up at the deck while I just stared at him in unabashed fascination.
"Check to see if he has a tag around his neck."
"Aye, sir. Let's see... well I'll be damned. You've got one o' them tags." I looked down to see a big yellowed tag hanging from my neck by a length of twine. Erik picked it up and squinted at it in the dim light. "Says... 'Jacob Molago. Age twenty. Surgeon-in-training.'" My thoughts suddenly snapped into line and my lungs filled so quickly and swiftly that I coughed.
"Y-yes!" I said, gasping for air. "Jacob. My name is Jacob."
"Poor cuddy. You look like you 'it your 'ead."
"Er..." I struggled to form an intelligent query. I could feel the world slowly settling into focus. The dark was less dark, and the sounds and smells somehow sharper and less muddled."Where... am I, exactly?"
"On a pier that doesn't lead to land in the middle of abso-frickin' nowhere." Erik said tartly. "Can you make it up the ladder?"
"I... yes, I think I can. Oh, look! I have hands!"
"Up the ladder, crazy cuddy. The captain'll figure out what to do with you."


I clumsily climbed up the ladder. At the top I attempted to swing my leg neatly over the railing but ended up overbalancing. I fell and tumbled onto the deck of the ship. Flat on my back, I looked up at a ring of scruffy of all different races and ages. They all looked intensely curious. "Move aside, gentlemen, move it or lose it! Cap'n coming through." The ring parted and a very large black man helped him to his feet.
"Captain?" I asked. The man grinned, exposing a large quantity of impossibly white teeth.
"No, not me." He said in a deep, rich voice.

"Me." The crowd turned at the commanding voice. My eyes widened without my say-so. The voice only beloned to a small child of a very runty thirteen or twelve years of age. He—I guessed it was a he, thought he was very pretty for a boy—was dressed in knee breeches, spotless white hose, black buckled shoes, and a deep blue velveteen frock coat with gold buttons and trim. Yet the top of his read head wouldn't even make it up to my chest. "Or, really, the proper way to say it would be 'it is I', I imagine."
"You." I said blankly. "You're captain?"
"I wear the coat." The child said coolly. He then turned on the spot to face the big black man, neatly ignoring me. "Gustav. Report."
"Erik found him, sir." Gustav said, touching a knuckle to his forehead in respect. The captain then turned neatly to face Erik.
"Hmph. Erik. Report."

"At the ship's midnight bell, I spotted a light, sir." Erik said immediately, snapping to attention. "As it was in our path I conferred with Bobby an' 'e steered alongside the pier, sir, an' I 'ailed the poor crazy cuddy o'er there." He nodded in my direction.
"I'm not crazy." I said loudly. Erik rolled his eyes.
"Only callin' it like I see it, kid. ANYWAY, Cap'n, as 'e 'ad no mem'ry an' it wouldn't do to leave 'im out 'ere, I thought that Gustav would 'ave an idea of what to do, and then 'e would confer with you yerself, Cap'n. And that's all."
"You did what you thought was best, Erik. Good man." The Captain said. He turned back to me, tilting his head back to see my face. He seemed annoyed at my height. "Is this all true to the best of your knowledge?"
"Yessir." I bobbed my head in a half-hearted gesture of respect. In an any less distinguished person, the Captain's lip would have been thought to have curled.
"Then welcome aboard the Fantasy."