Ship of Souls
It is said, a ship with a death in it can never be bought or sold.
It can only be borrowed from the dead.
In a remote part of Boston harbor reside the ships no one has use for.
Derelicts, hulks, and unwanted prizes.
There, a brig is anchored, an ancient, dark wreck in the black water.
In the early evening, a young sailor pulls upon the oars as the Ship's Master steers.
"She was decommissioned to a private owner," the Master says. "Once it was a pirate vessel before it was captured by the Navy.
But the current owner purchased it before they could scuttle her."
The boy looks over his shoulder as the brig draws nearer.
"What's to be done with it?" he asks.
/shrug
"The owner hopes to refurbish her and set her free once again. To a pirate lord, he hopes."
The Master takes a swig of run from a flask. The Boston night is chill.
/thirsty
"He calls her the Ship of Souls."
Climbing on board, the Master takes the boy to the Navigator's cabin.
Table, chair, bunk. A chest for his few possessions. A bag and jars with a few days' food and water. Some books.
"Make yourself comfortable, boy," the Master says. "It's an easy job. Keep your lantern lit, so others know you're here.
"Don't start no fires, and don't let any get started. Make sure no looters or vagabonds come aboard.
"I'll be sending workmen out over the next couple weeks to make repairs. If you see anything amiss, let me or them know."
/nod
The boy wanders the ship's decks and cabins. It is old but seems well cared for at first glance.
But a scratch at the varnish reveals deep rot beneath.
It creaks and groans on the harbor's waters.
Its anchor chains grind against each other like bones.
The hawsers snap and pull.
Strange knocks echo through the cabins.
The boy tries to write letter to his sweetheart, but his lamp extinguishes.
When he manages to light it, he finds his ink well overturned. Ink spilled across the desk and onto the deck, fouling his pages.
/confused
Was there a rogue wave in the harbor? Odd, that he didn't feel it.
/shrug
It was there, the death. On his first night he felt it, but he could not see it.
Not yet.
/no
In his explorations, he finds one especially large cabin, nearly as large as the Captain's.
And especially dark. It seems no light can pierce it, and the boy becomes uneasy exploring it.
Against one wall, he finds a patch of mold growing on the floor.
As the days pass, the patch grows.
No work crews ever come, but the next time the Master returns, bearing food and water, the boy reports the patch of mold.
The Master seems unconcerned when he inspects it. He pokes at the mold and then wipes his fingers off on his trousers.
"It's cosmetic versus structural. Ugly, but shouldn't affect her seaworthiness."
/frown
"What is this room?" the boy asks.
"This was the owners' cabin, reserved for their use when they were aboard.
"This ship was built a hundred years ago, twas to be a gift from a shipwright to his new bride.
"They hoped to sail to the New World and start a merchant concern in the Caribbean.
"A day after their wedding vows, they disappeared, having never set sail even once.
"The townsfolk and dock workers must have shook their heads and wished them well. Some people are just not suited for life at sea.
/shrug
"And so the ship laid in estate until it was sold for a pittance to a pirate captain, where she served her captain well.
/nod
"So this cabin was never occupied by the owners. During the life of the ship, it served as storage and occasional lodging for honored guests. Nothing more.
/sigh
"I'll have workmen come. They'll remove this bad wood and replace it."
And so the Master left again, leaving the boy alone with the ship and its memories.
The boy is drawn to that cabin. Deep in the night, when he cannot sleep, he finds himself standing before it.
At times, he thinks he sees a white figure standing in the darkness of that cabin. But he never dares approach.
/search
The walls and windows of this ship are as thin as bones. Almost as if one could walk right through them.
Is that what happened? Did she fall through the walls when the candlestick crushed her skull?
Did her new husband seal her up with wood and let the mold grow over her?
/curious
Rains come, and the patch of mold grows.
The workers the Ship's Master promised never come.
Sometimes the boy wonders if the Master has forgotten him entirely.
/confused
How does one forget their own death? It is such an important thing.
Who would kill a loved one? So recently wed, so young and beautiful?
/sad
How could such a thing come about? Memory is a tricky thing.
/agree
One night, the ship's silence is broken by knocking, and the boy rises to investigate.
/search
In the darkness of the great cabin, he sees an even deeper darkness on the floor.
Where the mold had grown, the deck planks have been pulled up and neatly stacked to the side.
He peers in the darkness under the deck and sees curled bones shrouded in a rotten nightgown.
The skull is crushed like an egg shell. Beside it, a heavy bronze candlestick.
The boy is shoved, and he tumbles into the hole.
He struggles, trying to free himself, but his limbs become tangled in the old bones, as if they clutch at him, holding him down.
/scared
Dust and ancient rot fills his senses.
Then the planks are placed over him, and he hears the nails driven in.
He struggles. He struggles.
He struggles.
He is still.
/tired
The next day, the Master rows to the ship to check on the boy, only to find he's absconded from his post.
Once again, he must hire another.
/bow
