DARWIN
Saturday, March 31, 2018
"The SS Cactus," Lyle Vega said on the loudspeaker. "It was once a naval hospital ship, and went down in an ugly storm in the summer of 1987. Afterwards, a recovery effort was considered exorbitantly expensive and impractical, due to the wreck being so close to the Petalburg Microisles, so it was left to be reclaimed by the sea. Now, the Cactus is the home to more than a dozen kinds of water-type Pokémon." He pointed. "If you take a look to the north, put on your sunglasses, and squint, you might be able to make it out. We should be there in about twenty minutes."
The small crowd moved to the railings to take a look, but all I could do was stifle a groan. Twenty more minutes of this? I was having enough trouble as it was not pooling to the steaming surface of the deck in a puddle.
And it was a pity too, because if I could actually concentrate, this all would've been fascinating, exciting even: it was my first time on a ferry and my first time being out at sea. The ship was cool, and the view up here on the deck was incredible: on all sides there was nothing but water, turning my surroundings into a wet blue alien world glittering in the burning glare of the sun. I should've been lined up at the railing with the rest of the crowd, soaking in the majesty of it...
...But Arceus, the heat. It was boiling out here today, and the pits of my brand-new Seawatchers T-shirt were already soaked through with body fluid, which was only slightly less uncomfortable than my hair, which had turned into a damp, itchy mop. I leaned back against the railing enclosing the prow, gazing down at the blue blackness churning beneath the ferry. Lyle had just started his presentation, and I was already feeling drained. I wished I could go into the galley: they had AC there, and food too. Unfortunately, I was stuck out in the sun "volunteering" until we reached the Microisles.
"...rwin? Darwin?"
I jerked — Lyle was calling me. "Sorry," I said, straightening and swerving around. "What did you say?" Heat flushed my face when I realized that the crowd had reassembled into the chairs on the deck, and they were all staring at me.
Lyle looked amused. "I was saying, can you pass out those pamphlets while I go into this next part?"
Pamphlets, right — that's why I was here. The "props guy", as Lyle put it, who handed out stuff while the other one gave the presentation. Thank Arceus they didn't ask me to speak! I hurried around the crowd, handing out handfuls of them — each one labeled "Fun! Food! Events! The SS Cactus has it all!" — to the rest of the passengers.
Including Grandpa Jon — he sat in the furthest row of metal seats, legs crossed, his cane propped against the arm of his chair. He was petting a wild Wingull — who'd come down and perched on the seat beside him — when I came up.
"Thank you," he said when I gave him a pamphlet. "Good work so far. It doesn't look like the sun is treating you well, though. Would you like my hat?"
"That's okay." Grandpa was bald; I, at least, had a gnarled nest of gray to protect my scalp from UV rays.
"Take some sunscreen, then." Grandpa handed me a bottle. "That should keep you from getting baked all the way through."
Gratefully, I took it, and lathered some onto my face. "How long do these usually last?"
"A good fifteen minutes. Don't worry, you'll be done soon."
I stifled another groan, and took up my position back behind Lyle again. He was talking about the layout of the Abandoned Ship now, but I quickly tuned him out, focusing my energies on not sweating out all my body fluids and thinking about other stuff to distract me from the heat. Like school. Depressingly, that was more interesting to me right now.
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