Ship of the Damned

Sarah Elizabeth

2600 words

I scribbled my name down. DONE! Finally! It was over and I could go back to my life. My world. Outside the gates, a two hour boat ride away my wife waited on me. Our son would be with her other children at her mother's. I closed my eyes. Her other children were younger than our son. Holding her hand would be him. His name escaped my memory only because I never liked it. Never wanted the idea. The knowledge that if I ever left here she'd meet me with him and divorce papers. I would sign my name to them as I had just signed the release forms. I would do anything to keep her safe. I had done the unthinkable.

My body gave an involuntary twitch. I shivered. Not from the dampness or the passing armed guard. No I was used to all of this. It was because I had taken the blame. I had taken the fall for her crime. I would do it again. She was my world. She was the reason I suffered so. She was Ursula Ballantine. In our school days I had secretly loved her. But she belonged to Gustave Donne. I knew this and respected it. After all the Donnes weren't people to steal from. When Gustave disappeared after The Dark Lords defeat I made my move. I swept up the pieces and put her back together.

"This way Ovid." a grubby looking little skeleton of a man grabbed my arm and pulled me along. I started to pull away from him. To declare that I was a free man to tell him who he was dealing with. But I stopped myself. I just followed him my head bowed down. He muttered things about my luck and the small number of people to ever sign release papers. I ground my teeth and fell into thought.

She said she loved me. Said I was all she would ever need. Pulled me in. Wrapped me up. I was like a fly in a spiders web. I was stuck. By the time I realized what was going on it was too late. She'd sank her fangs in me and was sucking me dry. My money disappeared in a blink on the eye. My reputation was trampled and muddied. I had lost control.

"You love me dont you?" Ursula asked.

"More each day. You are my sun. With out you I would simply die." I answered kissing her. A deep passionate kiss that came from my soul and reached her lips.

"Good." she said pulling away. "I've something to tell you. I did something. They'll come they do, you'll claim my crime. You'll claim the crime. You will do MY time. Won't you?" I nodded blindly. "Good." she purred. Then she kissed me. She pulled at my robe. Forced me back on our bed. She sealed the deal. I had sold my soul for a night I would never forget.

"You hear me boy? Get your sorry behind on that ship now or go back to your cell." the man ordered. We were standing outside. Waves crashed against the rocky mountain that seemed to come out of nowhere. Perched on a flattened top was my prison. I complied. I shuffled up the ramp onto the rickety ship. It wasn't really a ship but they called it that. It was more an over grown row boat.

I was shoved below deck and sat down in a seat. Then instructed to row. I did. The mind numbing work was perfect. I rowed. I pushed myself. If I was physically exhausted when I arrived my outside would match my inside. Dead. My clothes were moth eaten and thread bare. My hair was a long matted mess. I hadn't showered since I was shoved in my cell ten years ago. Ten years of stale bread, warm drinking water, and stagnant wash water. Ten years of relieving myself in a corner over a hole.

"SHUT UP!!" She screamed. I crashed to the floor and curled into the fetal position. Tears slid down my cheeks and blood down my chin. I whimpered.

"You've done well my angel." Gustave strode over to MY wife and kissed her. I saw her eyes roll back in her head, her knees go weak. "You've done just as I planned." he whispered in her ear.

"I please you, my love?" she asked her voice was soft and shy.

"You've never pleased me more Princess". he replied. They both stood over me. His knife hung in his hand a slight breeze would cause it to tumble to the floor.

"You love me." I said meekly.

"I never loved you!" she laughed. "How could I? You're a filthy monster. You're son will me my servant soon as he can walk and carry something at the same time.

And you will serve time for a crime you didn't commit". Gustave sneered. Bile rose to my mouth.

"No." I sobbed.

"Oh yes. You were so blind." she cackled. Tears stung my eyes. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I had bitten through my lip, my nose was bleeding too. Gustave raised his knife again. I didn't hear the words that followed for the pain they caused made me scream and twitch. I felt my bowels loosen and knew I had soiled myself.

"Stop, you thirsty?" It was a small woman, maybe in her early twenties, with long brunet hair and soft blue eyes.

"Yes." I answered. She handed me a mug of cold water. I drank. It was the best thing I'd ever tasted.

"Hungry?" she asked sitting down on the bench next to me. I nodded and she handed me a loaf of fresh warm bread. I broke a chunk off and shoved it in my mouth. The sweet taste filled my mouth. "You are brave." she told me and I shook my head.

"Stupid." I mumbled between mouthfuls.

"You loved her?" she asked. I nodded. Something shone in her eyes. "She hurt you." she stated it didn't ask it. I felt a kinship with this woman.

"I was blind." I told her. She shook her head and stood up.

"Love blinds us from the truth to protect our hearts. Love lies to us and fills our minds with stories to keep our hearts safe."

She disappeared for a moment and I kept eating. When she returned she carried a bucket of warm water and a bottle of soap. She set them down close to my bench and left again. In all she made three trips, she brought two buckets of warm water, a bottle of soap, a razor, brush, scissors, and clean clothes. While I ate and rowed she washed and cut my hair. She was careful while brushing it out. Then she shaved my face and washed it. She washed my chest, arms, hands, and back then pulled a clean shirt on me.

"Wash your bottom half and put these on." she instructed handing me a pair of pants before she left the room. I did as she asked then returned to rowing. Soon sweat soaked my hair. I rowed faster. Harder. I let the sweat sting my eyes. It seemed years before the girl returned. When she did she mopped my face then took away the buckets and my old clothes. She took my empty mug and the sat beside me. "You dont have to row. Father only says you do to keep you busy." I let go of the oar and turned to look at her.

"Why are you so kind?"

"My mother died giving birth to me on this boat. Her body was tossed over board. My father was over come with grief. The cook raised me. Until I was seventeen he wouldn't look at me. Then on my seventeenth birthday he comes to me. He took my face in his hands and said 'You look like your mother.' then he took three steps back pulled out his gun held it to his temple. He killed his self. The cook locked his body in the captain's hold. I was lost with grief. My father hadn't ever paid me mind but he at least was alive and near. I went to the kitchen took out a knife and thrust in into my chest. The cook found me and locked me in my chambers." I wasn't sure what she was saying. My mind reeled with the possibilities. "You went mad. You started screaming and yelling. You raised holy hell. 'I loved you and you betrayed me!' you kept screaming. Then last night you found a sharp rock on the wall. You slit your wrist and bled out. This morning the keeper found you. With your life you bought your passage on the ship of the damned." I shook my head feverishly. It wasnt possible. I wasnt dead. I had finally been found innocent. Finally been released. I was going home to my wife. I would sign her papers. Take my son. I would live the life I had been meant for. This was all wrong. I wasnt dead.

"Youre wrong." I said then repeated it. Louder and louder until I was screaming it. I told her she was wrong. The girl stood and came to me. She took my hands in hers.

"It's alright. You will be fine. Everything will be okay now." she said. I suddenly believed her. I had to. I don't know why. But I had to. Things must get better, worse couldn't exist.

Ursula had been there. She had been there for all of it. She remembered with great horror what had taken place the night Gustave had returned from backpacking through Europe. She'd always known Ovid was jealous of the time she'd spent with Gustave in their childhood which was now little more than a faded memory. He'd hated seeing her laughing with him and yet she had needed that jealousy. It had made her feel alive when hed make empty threats all concerning Gustave and very bloody death.

Ursula shivered. Looking at herself in the mirror she chewed at her lip until it was raw, tears stained her beautiful face. In his room her son cried. Every bit of seventeen he'd lost his father too young. Ovid had been locked up after what he'd done to Gustave, when Troy was only seven. She collapsed to the floor of her bathroom as the memory over took her.

Ovid thrust the knife missed and it was embedded in the wall. Gustave managed to wrestle him to the floor keeping him from hurting anyone but the two continued to throw punches. The yelling, the blood, the whimpering. She turned around the whimpers came from behind her. There stood Troy. His hands balled up into fists his dark almost black eyes wide with fear and anger.

"Mom, what is Dad doing to Uncle Gustave?" he asked.

She had nothing to say grabbing her son's hand she tugged him upstairs. Ursula had found only one choice in her mind. She must keep her son safe. She locked him in his room then went back down stairs. Not before making a call to the police. Ovid was standing like a puppet whose master has been distracted. He was hunched over arms swaying. Sweat mixed with the blood and possibly tears on the faces of both men. Their clothes were torn. Instinctively her eyes darted to the empty gash in her wall. The knife was gone. It was in Gustave's hand. It hung there loosely she knew he had no plan of using it .

"Are you done now?" Gustave asked starting to stagger when he moved to stand between herself and her husband.

"She's not yours. I married her. She's my wife! She loves me!" Ovid said rage was in his voice but his body couldn't show the same strength.

"SHUT UP!" she yelled. No sooner had the words left her lips had he crashed to the ground. Between the pain and everything else he curled in the fetal position and wept. Over and over he repeated his mantras. Like the beat of a drum it continued.

"She's mine not yours. I love her. She loves me. She's mine not yours. I love her. She loves me."

With sudden burst of energy Ovid stood back up. He threw his self at Gustave. They were off again. It was like watching two stray dogs fight. Vicious and you know you must stop it but you can't take your eyes off them. You are frozen by fear. With the crack of bone the fight ended. They both laid on the ground. Ursula saw her husband still breathing though it was heavy and his eyes were closed she knew he was alive. Gustave was in a worse state. The knife was buried in his chest half way up the handle. She knew with sudden clarity he was dead.

"Mom, you okay?" Troy asked from the door. She wasn't sure if she was but she nodded. He stepped over her and wet down a wash cloth then sat down on the floor with her. Taking his mother in his arms Troy washed her face and wrapped the wet towel around her neck. "We'll get through this." he whispered.

Ursula looked up into his eyes she saw more love and conviction there than she knew to exist. After a while he stood her up and walked her to her bed. She grabbed the wedding photo off the bed side table and held it close to her chest. Troy had left the room and when he returned he had the newspaper. She watched him flip through the pages as he lay on the bed next to her. Many mornings growing up he'd done that, pretending to be grown up.

"Oh Mom, look." he said pointing to a story. It took up nearly a full page and in the center was a picture of Ovid.

"Read it." she said forcing all emotion from her voice she crept closer to read over her sons shoulder.

"One week ago a man died in our prison. A prison we all believe to hold those whom have done civilization harm, safe. But how safe is it? The man, Ovid Colbert grew up in this town. He married the prom queen and the two had a wonderful son together. Then one night he killed his wife's ex-boyfriend. The story is well known to everyone. Colbert was to spend ninety years to life in prison.

"A few days before his death he had started ranting. Physiologists said he would be fine, placed him on medication and left. Colbert, according to one of the guards, would sit for hours rocking on his butt in the corner and talking to himself. Whenever possible he was to be heard telling stories of how his wife had never loved him and was now with the same man he had killed. He believed Gustave Donne wasn't only alive but the father of three children by his wife and the two had planned this all out to keep her from taking the fall for the work of a dark lord."

"Thats enough." Ursula said her voice shook. "We were there. We know what happened. You're father was at a loss for his mind. None of this will do any good now will it? Why don't you turn to the funnies?" Troy did as instructed and found the Sunday Funnies. Together mother and son read the comics and had a few hallow laughs. They spent the rest of the day in bed with take-out leftovers and the cable TV.