Bullet on the beach

The black sea

The sun was blotted out by the grey Cotten wool that loomed in the morning sky, and the smell of fresh sea water was over powered by the burning oil that lay on the remains of what used to be a boat. The Black Sea was thicker than it ever had been and dead fish lay on the surface of the water. "What should I say?" A sailor questioned, as he paced across the path next to the beach, " I mean I can't exactly say that I was day dreaming and drove the ship into a wall, can I?" Suddenly he paused, his heart was pounding out of his chest as he looked into the distance. " Oh God! What do I do?!" He ran towards another sailor, grabbed his jacket and began shaking him ferociously. "He's going to hit me to the ground and beat me till I'm dead!" He yelled at the other sailor, who looked confused until he said, " you do know those stories aren't true, he never killed anyone, it's just a joke we tell about him."  The boy's eyes widened and he released his grip on the sailors jacket. " Look, Carl, just tell him the truth and you'll be fine, you know the captain  hates liars." The tall sailor said reassuringly. " Look here he comes now." His kind welcoming smile turned into a smug grin, and then he walked away. Carl began to sweat and his hand reached for his mouth as he bit chunks of his nail off. He watched an old, exhausted, angry man  stomp towards him. But it was no use he snapped, " IM SORRY! I DIDN'T MEAN TO!" His words then became what only one word can describe: jibberish. His feet gave in and his knees smashed against the paving, tears rolled down his face as he continued to yell. The grumpy man held his wrist up to his face as if to check his watch, and then he rolled his eyes. Eventually he let out an impatient cough and the sailor paused. His hands shook as he pushed himself off the ground and his head still tiled towards the floor. As his final tear rolled down his face he managed to return an apology, he kept his head tilted toward the floor and waited. " I liked that ship," Harold said disappointed, "someone's going to have to teach you how to drive a ship because you're buying my next one and you don't want to mess that one up too, now do you?"
"No captain, no." His voice was still shattered and his speech pattern was very fragmented. "Now then," Harold's tone changed, "does anybody know this man?!" He held up a small picture of what the police now refer to as "the brief case boy." And surely enough every single sailor, fire man and life guard crowded around Harold to look at this picture. "Anyone?!" Harold desperately yelled. He was bored of referring to him as the brief case boy, in fact he found it quite disrespectful to call him that. "There must be somebody who knows him!" Irritated he began to lower the picture and just as he was about to walk off, Carl raised his hand. "I know him captain," Carl began "I used to work with him in a shop."
"And it took you that long to tell me that you know him. I could've sent a text by now, and that's saying something Carl!" The crowd began to disperse knowing that Harold had gotten what he wanted, and then he finally got a name, "Noah Reid."