song of the sea: book one

Chapter Fourteen: Join the Club:

   The very next day, my stomach was still empty because I have not had enough time to cook the shark meat, but I did however, tear off its tail to use as an oar so that I could scavenge the floating suitcases int he water.

   I had picked up over at least thirty of them, went through them and picked out the things that I may need in the near and far future.

   I packed the boat halfway full of organized piles of fresh clothes out of one of them. Another pile was of spices lots and lots of raisins that I know will come in handy for fresh water. But that would have to wait until the next day, because it takes a day for a single raisin to become a grape again if it is put in salt water, which I have plenty of, and the core of the raisin will be revived like Frankenstein's monster. It is technically water based and not lightning bringing the grape back to life, but the salt in the water will act as the spark of life.

   the slat however will stay on the outside of the zombie grape, as I like to call them, and all of that fresh water is inside that juicy grape.

   So yeah, I have my ways, because I have the will.

   The will to survive.

   The will to bring that man to justice.

   And the will to hold Mitchel again and never let him go again.

   Mitchel.

   I wonder how he is taking it.

   I didn't want to think about that right now. Right now, I had to put a lot of raisins in ocean water for tomorrow, and finish skinning the shark so that I could use the inner skin, to use for warmth at night, and to be honest, I had to make it smell better.

   Somehow.

   But I 'd rather be alive and smell like fish, than to be dead and sleep with the fishes.

   Another pile that I had was of a bunch of unopened spices in bottles that I could use to season with.

   The suitcase was also full of sauces and dry noodles in a package.

   Now I don't know if it was meant to be smuggled into the boat, but I'm very glad that whoever thought of doing that, I thank them.

   Another pile in the corner was just a bunch of jewelry that I would later make into weapons to help me in the far future. But that is not the story that I want to tell you right now.

   That part comes later.

   Right now, I'm in the middle of the ocean talking to a seagull who talks back.

   With attitude.

   And I am cooking shark on a hot glass plate that I found in another suitcase. Plus, I am just waiting another twelve hours for the zombie grapes to rise so that I can peel the skin off and enjoy freshly squeezed grape juice in my new cup with my shark sushi.

   Seasoned and all.

   Yeah, I don't know why this person had packed all this food, but it sure helped me a lot in the long run. And not to eat bland fish.

   After I tried to feed the seagull the unwanted organs of the shark, eyeballs included, it wouldn't eat.

   Most likely because it was still in pain.

   "Okay little guy, now it really is time for doctor Emily to take a closer look at you."

   The seagull obviously did not want to be touched, but it had even less room to run, and plus, it couldn't swim or fly.

   I got it into a corner, and as I picked it up, it started to squawk and squirm in pain.

   And I had no idea where my improv song about this very moment came in, but my life was becoming a musical that no one would ever hear or see. I sang my little heart out in a rap.

   "Join the club of the lost,

   Well, at least you only have your life as a cost,

   Me, well that's a different story at hand,

   Stop trying to fight me, do you understand,

   Well, of coarse not, you're a seagull,

   But I speak it out to the universe,

   I wish that I could just turn back time, reverse,

   To the moment I was pushed overboard,

   By that man who said that it was the storm,

   Will you stop moving you dumb bird,

  I'm trying to save your life, so absurd,

   But you know what I could do,

   I could make a bird brain stew,

   So stop trying to move,

   Or one day you will rue,

   The day that you laded in my boat of gloom,

   So don't make me your doom,

   Because on day I will make my way home,

   One day after the other, I will continue to survive alone,

   Oh CRAP, there's a water cyclone,

   A water spout is not what I need for this, boat,

   But I refuse to contradict,

   To Mother Nature's sick,

   Ways to rig and get rid,

   Of me and maybe even make me take a lick,

   Like a clock on a bomb, I go tick, tick tick."

   And I think that the song seemed to calm the seagull down. Or it could have been the tone of my singing voice that distracted it from seeing what I was about to do.

   Without any hesitation or warning, I pushed the wing out and up in a way that made a clicking pop, which made me think that the joint was just out of place.

   Well, the cooing that the seagull gave off as I let go of it and its attitude turned right into gratitude. The limp was still there, but its wings were spread out and flapping.

   "Don't you fly off. Don't you do it."

   By the way its wings moved, I'd say that I fixed the wing problem. But its limp was still there. I knew I had to do something to fix it.

   I scavenged through the life boat and instantly found what I was looking for.

   It's as if the seagull knew what I was doing. I was trying to heal it.

   "Okay, let's get this leg fixed up", I said as I started to cast up and split the leg back into it's normal form, I stopped as I noticed a strange lump in it's foot.

   Curiosity filled up in me, but I knew that the small lump in it's foot was probably nothing, but just in case it was something, I had to take a closer look at it.

   But every time I touched it, I heard a faint beeping sound.

   I took my finger off, and the beeping stopped.

   Well, this was weird. Very weird indeed.

   And not only that, but I could have sworn I heard a voice come out of nowhere. Could it have been someone to rescue me at last?