Out Of The Blue

The Captains Assistant

It all happened it once.
Within moments, Captain Cobalt and at least half of the crew surrounded him. A wave a pure horror showered Wilbur as the man approached him, fist balled.
Cobalt looked like a man you would not want to mess with. He was a large man, nearly a foot shorter than Wilbur, had black hair tied in a greasy ponytail and some stubble on his chin. With his ice blue eyes, the boy could swear they looked right into his soul. He was usually dressed in a white button-up with a brown and gold jacket, dark brown pants, and black scuffed boots. He always had a blade at his side, strapped to his belt.
Wilbur swallowed his fear and tried to suppress his trembling, but failed.
Quartermaster Anthony was among the crew. Looking exactly like his father, he had black hair and a bit of stubble, but his hair was cut short and he was definitely skinnier. His skin was smooth and paler than his fathers and he had soft hazel eyes.
Everyone feared Anthony and his father more than respected.
"I thought I heard screaming out here?" Cobalt barked, voice gruff as he turned to Wilbur. "Did I hear correctly, Cabin Boy?".
Wilbur bit his lip. "N-No sir.." He stuttered, voice trembling.
The Captain scoffed and grabbed the boy's wrist, pulling him down to eye level.
"Don't you lie to me, boy" Cobalt warned, ice in his voice. "Next time you lie, you'll be off the ship".
Wilbur oddly felt relief at that comment. He wanted to leave the moment he was forced aboard.
But then he released what the man was implying.
The Captain released his arm, leaving Wilbur to stand correctly, smoothing his hands over his shirt awkwardly.
Cobalt sighed and scratched his head, turning to Anthony.
"Make sure he stays in line" He ordered his son.
The Quartermaster then nodded and glared at Wilbur, who stood rigidly, trying to regain posture. Wilbur released a breath as the Captain yawned and walked away, up to the poop deck.
As he turned around, back to the waves, Wilbur could've sworn he saw the mermaid.
He shook his head and growled at himself. 'There's nothing there, Wilbur.. Just a bird!' He reprimanded, feeling sheepish.
What he saw may have been real, but there was no way he'd ever see it again.

The day had gone fairly well. Wilbur swabbed the decks, the Quartermaster kept the boat in line, and no other ships had passed through. Wilbur guessed they were so far off the Pacific that no one may find them. At least, not yet.
Wilbur grabbed a plate from the desk, taking a small chicken wing and a dirty potato. Slowly, he walked to the table and sat down at the edge, staring at his food.
The crew was singing a song, loudly. "What do we do with a drunken sailor? What do we do with a drunken sailor?" The crew members swaying side to side together, oblivious to the loud waves outside. Their voices echoed through the ship. Glasses clinked together as the Captain and the First Mate cheered. Wilbur was never one to feast. While the crew devoured their food (assorted meats and potatoes), he simply ate half a chicken wing and took one bite of his potato.
Anthony, who sat next to him, looked at Wilbur's plate. Compared to the boy, the Quartermaster had eaten nearly everything on his platter. "You can eat this if you want?" Wilbur offered hesitantly, moving his plate to Anthony.
He didn't know if he should have even offered, being terrified of the Quartermaster.
The man shook his head. "No thanks, mate. Already ate a ton".
Wilbur looked down, sheepishly.
The man looked away and went back to eating his meat.
Wilbur yawned and pushed his plate away, not hungry.
He had better things to think about.
Once finished, Wilbur walked up to the deck and leaned against the railings. He took a deep breath as he stared at the rocks, mesmerized as the sunset reflected off the gray stones.
Mermaids were always said to be a myth, but he never expected they were real.