The Depths of Memory

By Willem Jonkman

His dream was troubled. He couldn't make out exactly what was troubling about it, but it definitely made him uneasy. He tried to make the feeling go away by tossing and turning, but all that accomplished was making him fall out of his top bunk.

As he pushed himself up off the floor the rocking of the ship gave him a splinter from the cold wood floor. He climbed to his feet and put his finger in his mouth. The tang of his blood and the pain in his hand sharpened his senses. His eyes adjusted to the dark of his cabin. There was the unkept bunkbed on one side of the room with a sea chest at each end. One for him and one for Japo, his unclean roommate.

He knelt down and opened his sea chest and grabbed a slightly less dirty shirt from it while cursing Japo for not waking him up. Even though he wasn't scheduled to work till later that day, he would now miss out on breakfast.

He slid on his shirt and opened the door with his foot, while inventing new ways of calling Japo stupid, fat and romantically attracted to small furry animals. As he staggered out the door he tripped over a bucket and mop left in the middle of the hall. "Argh! Is the whole ship out to get me today? All I did last night was..." Strange. He couldn't remember anything from last night. That and the lack of a hangover puzzled him.

He reached the door to the deck and pushed it open. He quickly covered his face with his arm to block out some of the sunlight that poured in. He stepped out and let his eyes adjust to the bright morning light. He slowly let his arm while listening to the sounds of the ocean. Waves lapping up the sides of the ship, wind tugging the riggings every which way and seagulls squawk—Wait. There were no gulls.

Not being able to remember the night before is something a sailor grows used to, but no gulls? He walked out into the full sunlight, looking around for some of the crew. No one was to be seen. There was an island in the distance, but all of the dinghies were still attached. "Hello?" he called "Anyone here?"

No response came and he began to get worried. Where could they be? The mess hall?

Yes! The mess hall! It was big enough to hold the crew. That's where everyone was. He ran to the other side of the ship and opened the door belowdecks. He moved fast, the faster he found everyone, the sooner this would be over. He reached the door and put his ear against it. It was silent like the rest of the ship. They were being awfully quiet for a prank. The door creaked open. Inside was as empty as it was quiet.

He fell onto the door and slowly slid down it. No one. If they weren't here, they couldn't fit anywhere else. He was alone on the ship. He tightly curled up into a ball and stayed there.

Hours later, nothing was changed. His world was still but for the rocking of the boat. His stomach voiced its dissatisfaction with his current situation and a silver lining made itself visible. He wouldn't have to share the exotic foods they had picked up with anyone else. He dashed to the larder and expectantly threw open the doors. His smile fell. He could recognize all of the food. It was all from his homeland. A frown crossed his face. The food was one of the main reasons he had left, the memories of it were still fresh in his mind. That brown prickly fruit made his eyes water, this green berry smelled like mold and made his arms cramp. The root that looked like a foot tasted like it too. He gathered some of the lesser evils and made a hasty lunch, grimacing with every bite.

He went up to the main deck and looked up to the sun. It was only noon. Plenty of time to get something done. He went to the side of the ship and readied one of the dinghies to be launched. He rushed back to the mess hall and gathered up all the food he could find into the biggest box he could carry. He dragged the box outside and found that the dinghy he had readied was gone.

His box clattered to the deck and broke open with a crack. The fruits and vegetables spilled everywhere. If it had fallen off, it couldn't have gone that far, but he couldn't see it anywhere. If it had fallen and sunk, the oars would be floating and there would still be ripples. A thought came out of the recesses of his mind, but he didn't want to think about it so he put it back. His thought then rushed to his foremost consciousness. What about the other dinghies? His eyes snapped shut. No, he thought, they have to still be there! If they aren't where could they be? He opened his eyes and looked.

The sigh of relief made him gasp to get his breath back.

He gathered up all the fallen fruit he could find and put it into another dinghy. He checked to make sure he had everything, food, water, and oars. Good. He clambered into the boat and began to lower it into the water.

As he rowed toward the island he began whistling a tune that he couldn't remember the name of. It lifted his spirits. Time passed and he began to grow tired. He took a swig of water and a bite of foot-fruit. As he chewed he glanced at the sky. He spit his mouthful of fruit into the ocean. About 4 hours had passed since began rowing. It was getting late and he was nowhere near the island. He looked back at his ship. It shouldn't take him more than twenty minutes to get back to it. He rowed back and started coming up with more plans to get to the island.

Rowing for hours had made his arms feel like lead. He decided to rest until tomorrow. The dark blanket of sleep crept upon him.

His dream came back.

Trouble.

Fear.

Pain. He had to shake it off. He ran forward. It followed. Left. It was closing in. Right. It was upon him. Lightning split the sky and thunder tore the world. All he could think of was of the pain it had caused.

He bolted awake, his body drenched with sweat. He tried to remember what made the pain, but he couldn't. Shrugging it off like any other dream, put his feet on the cool floor and pushed his ratty hair out of his eyes. He looked at his room's sea chest and tried to wake up.

Wait.

Shouldn't there be two chests? And shouldn't he have a bunkbed? Yes… there was a roommate… He found it odd that he couldn't remember the name, or what he looked like but he felt that he should definitely have one. He thought that he might be in the wrong room, but the bloodstain on the floor from yesterday's splinter was still there. He tried to remember the rest of the crew, but couldn't. He knew that they had still existed, but their faces and personalities just wouldn't come to mind.

Later.

He would figure out what was wrong later, right now he had to do something...

Oh no. He knew he had to do something, but trying to remember what was like trying to catch water.

He'd get some air. That would solve his problem.

He opened the door to the hall tripping and stumbling as he walked out. Looking down to see what caused the problem, he only saw the floor.

He walked outside and looked around. The only things he saw were the ship, the sky, and the ocean.

He squinted. Wasn't there something in the distance? No... that was just light off the water. He had a feeling that there should be something there.

He walked around the ship looking for some sign of what he needed to do. He found the mess hall's pantry was completely empty. He was worried, as he didn't remember emptying it yesterday, maybe there was someone else on the ship with him.

He went outside to see if he could catch any fish. After an hour, he caught nothing and gave up. He then realised that because there were no birds that hunted fish, there would be no fish. He would have to move the ship.

He looked up at all the rigging. It would be hard to hoist the sails all alone. After some more time, he saw that it would be impossible to sail this ship by himself. After all, how could someone with no training sail a large ship alone?

He tried to think of what everyone he knew would do in a situation like this.

He couldn't think of any of them.

Try as he might, he could not recall what his parents looked or sounded like. He could have been an orphan, but he couldn't remember any orphanages.

He had no past. Falling on his knees he began to sob. He had nothing to work for, and nothing to return to.

He eventually dragged himself up. His body felt like a sack of wet rags. He slowly shuffled his way back to his cabin. Tomorrow he would put a bed in it. He hardly noticed the deck below him as he fell asleep.

His dream was horrifying. He was trapped and the chasing thing cornered him.

Memory.

Loss.

Wet.

He coughed and choked him self awake. He was in the middle of the ocean.

"Help! Someone! Anyone!" Why was he here? He was sleeping a second ago. He was sure he wasn't in the ocean when he fell asleep. For some reason he couldn't remember where it was though.

He floundered about in the sea, waves tossing him to and fro. He couldn't swim. Slowly drowning with nobody to save him, an even more terrible thought crept upon him.

He couldn't remember his name.