Bright Lights: Stories I Wrote For Prompts & Contests

HF Smackdown: Round of 15

"Steer to port!" Captain Martín Alonso Pinzón shouted, and the Pinta creaked as the rudder was pulled at, the sails thrown to the wind in an attempt to turn us left. Our masts had sails painted white with a red cross in the middle, and the hull of our boat was almost black - or perhaps an inky blue. There were two other boats flanking us - one in front and one on the side. (Picture: #4.) The cook called them the 'Santa Maria' and the 'Santa Clara.' Personally, I thought their names lack imagination. 

But I was only a scrubber boy, so there was no need for me to be judgemental - that's what Cook said. "You haven't any say in the chris'ening o' boats, so you listen 'ere, alrigh'? We do what we do best, and you shut yer mouth - we haven't any say. Alrigh', chico?" 

"Yes, Cocinero López."

"And ye ain't authorised to do anything lest it's ordered o' you. No skipping duties - that's the condition for your... allowed-ness to work on this here boat. Righ'?"

"Yes, Cocinero López," I repeated with a grin stretching wide, right up to my ears. 

Cook's words went unheeded. I couldn't help but look over the side of the vessel with perked ears and wide eyes when the look-out called that there was land in sight. A rocky outcrop hid a deep blue lagoon from sight, and behind it, mountainous cliffs rose into a cloudy sky. The waves were quite still here, but the Pinta made them choppy as she passed. Slowly, we advanced, until a passage-way between the outcrop and the mountains became visible and we could slip through into the lagoon.

Shouts and exclamations erupted into the air. Ahead, a port became visible, bustling with miniature people, who called to each other to and fro. Behind us, the passageway swallowed our boat up, hiding the Atlantic from view. (Pictures: #2 + #7) I could see shoals of rocks on every side; many a boat must have sunken here. Yet, the sands ahead were pristine and a creamy white, as if they were innocent - and always had been innocent of violence and death and screams and blood. I could almost see the ghosts of the shipwrecked drowning in the water around us, and I shivered. If Mama had been alive, she wouldn't have wanted me to come on this trip - but how else was I to secure a good wage and a good level of excitement at the same time?

Scrubbing the floor is boring. Scrubbing a boat and dreaming of the creatures below - now that's interesting. Only a few days ago, we had caught sight of some kind of spotted shark. White flecks gleamed on its dark blue back, and its tail peered out of the water like a sharp blade. When it came up to breathe, it was hard to find its eyes, for they were small and beady - and well camouflaged. It must have been twice my size in length, and within minutes, it had slipped out of sight once more. 

I smiled at the thought of being a sea creature. "Do you think I'd have tentacles like an octopus, or rather fins like a shark?" I asked the Cook, but he simply shook his head.

"What kinda question is tha'. You're human, and a good thing tha' is." Even now, I still wondered if there was irony in his words - clearly, he found me a nuisance. 

But now the Pinta shuddered as a rope was thrown out and a man in the harbour wrapped it around a wooden post. A ramp was levered down, and one by one, we stepped out onto stable ground. "We are due to leave on September the 6th! Do not forget else you want to be left behind," a man shouted at the front. Cook caught up beside me, panting a little. The electric, thin, blonde hair on his head was jumping all over the place like baby fuzz, and his cheeks were pink. 

"Tha' - that's Columbus," he breathed.

"The Navigator?"

"Quite righ' - didn't ye hear me the firs' time?" 

"Yes, Cociner-"

"Oh, be quiet, Rodrigo."

I made an action of zipping my lips, and the cook laughed. "We should scour the area for food," he told me, and we walked forwards with purpose. A few children peeked out behind sheds near the end of the harbour, their eyes like stars as they watched us walk down the gangway.