Are There Hippos In The Ocean


Are There Hippos In The Ocean


Are There Hippos In The Ocean

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In his bed, in the darkness, he heard the sound of someone crying. It was a low moan. He had never been so glad to hear anything in his life and it broke him out of his sleep as if he’d jumped up from the ground at full stride. He threw aside the blankets and sat on the edge of his cot.

His legs felt like lead weights. The tears were still flowing down the young boy’s face. It sounded like she was having a fit, but then he saw her arms twitching uncontrollably. Her mouth moved as if she wanted to say something.

“Hush,” he said softly into her ear, hoping that would calm her down some. “It will be all right.” She did stop whimpering for a moment but started shaking again. “I need you to listen very carefully now,” he whispered. She nodded and closed her eyes tight. He could see how much effort this took for her and felt even more ashamed of himself, but there was nothing else to do except try to get her under control.

“I can’t stay here anymore,” he began. “The man who took me away won’t allow my family back on their land. They’re going to take us all off to a place where we have to live like animals in cages.” He saw her eyes widen with terror but continued quickly.

“He’s taking me far away to work for him for many years.” This time when she opened her eyes they seemed a bit less frightened, maybe because she thought he would tell her more after this revelation.

She didn’t say anything though. She just nodded and tried to look brave. “But I am going to come and save you,” he said, trying his best to reassure her. “And one day I will bring your whole family here.”

Again she looked at him with fear, but not nearly as much. Maybe she believed him. Or maybe she knew she could trust him because he was only a few years older than her. “How?” she asked suddenly. He smiled and pulled the blanket back over her head, tucking it around her shoulders. That was a good question, but there wasn’t much point in answering it. “Just remember what I told you,” he said. She nodded and closed her eyes tight.

For several minutes, neither spoke nor moved. When he finally realized he had to get ready for breakfast, he stood slowly, wincing in pain with every step he took. The boy followed him like a shadow and stayed close while he ate, sitting by him at the table.

After they finished eating, they both washed up and got dressed in clean clothes, which was quite a task considering the state they were in when they got them. The boy went to wash his face and came back holding his nose. It stunk! He hadn’t showered for days and had gotten rather ripe, but that was no reason to put it up a little boy’s nostrils.

He grabbed the kid before he could run away and pushed him outside. He turned the faucet on and sprayed water into the air until he heard him scream. “There!” he said when he let him go. He turned back around and picked up his clothes, which were now completely covered in dirt and grime.

When the little boy returned with his shirt still hanging over his nose, they left together. They walked for hours without seeing anyone but finally made it to the end of a long path through dense vegetation. It was dark now and it was too dangerous to walk home alone, even after such a long trek.

The boy’s stomach hurt terribly, he felt sick to his stomach, but he didn’t dare throw up outside of the hut. If he did, there would definitely be hell to pay from the man who had taken him, prisoner.

They climbed an enormous pile of rocks on top of the hill and looked down into the valley below. It was filled with tall green trees and small white flowers, the first signs of spring coming up everywhere. A beautiful blue river ran along the bottom of it, making the scene even more beautiful.

On the far side of the valley was another hillside, which he could see must be where the village was built. He looked down and saw a large crowd gathered near the water and could just barely make out what they were saying. His heart jumped and his knees shook when he recognized the language they used.

“What is it?” the little boy asked, noticing the look on his face. He didn’t understand the words that had been spoken by the villagers.

“My people,” he said with a smile, looking over to where they were speaking. There were two women standing near one another, both dressed in brightly colored clothes and carrying large baskets filled with fruits and vegetables. The men in the crowd stood beside them, staring up at him with wide eyes and pointing toward him.

Then all of a sudden, someone screamed something, followed by more cries and shouts from the rest of the crowd. He could feel his heart pounding so loudly that it hurt his ears. The crowd began to move away from him, heading straight for him. His hands went up immediately to his head, covering his face in panic. He wanted to run but couldn’t find his legs.

“No!” the little boy said, grabbing his arm tightly. “Don’t let them touch you! Just keep walking.”

His feet kept moving, although his entire body trembled. He tried to ignore what was happening to him; he knew that if he let himself be seen by the villagers, they would do horrible things to him. He was afraid of what he might have to endure, but there was nothing he could do about it. He tried to push the fear away, but it just grew worse inside of him.

He had never faced a large group of people all yelling at once. What would they want? Why had they gone crazy now when he was right in front of them? He had no idea how to answer any of their questions and he didn’t really know what questions to ask. All he could do was keep walking, his eyes locked on the ground so he wouldn’t be noticed.

As he approached, they all fell silent and watched him. They were so quiet and respectful that it scared him even more. The boy continued to tug at him until he stopped next to one of the women and reached inside of his shirt, pulling out a bright red flower. The woman took the flower in her hand and smiled warmly at him as she bowed her head respectfully.

The crowd behind him began to talk again, getting louder and angrier with each other. He was glad they weren’t talking anymore, but then he saw them point down and begin moving toward him. He was surrounded now, but his eyes remained fixed on the woman with the flower. He could tell that she wanted to give him something but wasn’t sure why.

She was a stranger to him after all. He was confused because the people surrounding him seemed so angry and yet still so quiet around him.

The little boy turned to look at him with sad eyes and said, “I’m sorry, my friend. We must go back to the ship now.”

He looked down at the little boy, confused, not understanding anything. He was terrified of the crowd behind him but knew that his little friend had saved him again. The little boy reached under the collar of his shirt and pulled out a small pouch tied with a ribbon, handing it to him.

He took it and put it in his pocket without looking inside. “Why are they doing this? I don’t know what they’re trying to say. I can’t understand.”

The little boy shook his head sadly, knowing that there was nothing he could do about the situation now. “You’ll have to figure it out for yourself,” he said quietly, looking over to where he could hear the crowd beginning to scream again. He took his hand and pulled him up off of the ground, turning away from them. “Come on, we must hurry!”

The man’s eyes widened when he saw a group of people approaching them. Their backs were to him, so he didn’t see who they were or what they were wearing. The man began to walk faster, pulling the little boy with him. They hurried back towards the beach where they had left the ship, not taking their eyes off the strangers in front of them.

A loud voice called out from behind them and he felt a sharp pain shoot through his shoulder blades. He tried to stop and turn around, but it only made the pain worse. Someone grabbed the boy from behind and pushed him forward into the water, pulling him down into the waves and making him gasp for breath.

He thrashed around, trying to fight the person holding him down, but it was hopeless. The ocean was too strong and his struggles soon became weak flailing arms. He closed his eyes tightly, willing himself to disappear and hoping that when he woke up, it would all be a dream…

***

“Are you ready?” The Captain asked his crew standing on the deck of the ship.

“Yes, sir!” came the reply of a dozen sailors standing at attention. The Captain nodded his head, pleased with their enthusiasm. There were two ships anchored at the harbor and several people walking along the docks.

The Captain took a deep breath and walked slowly up the gangplank, his hands folded behind him. When he reached the top, he looked down on the dock below him, nodding his head in approval at the sight. Several of the people on the docks stood up straighter and smiled nervously, while others moved quickly out of the way.

The Captain continued on towards a group of men standing around a large crate at the end of the pier. The men were talking excitedly, pointing at the box and gesturing at it in their own language. As he got closer to them, they finally realized that he had a presence about him and started to bow low when he reached their area on the pier.

“Captain D’Artos! How good to see you,” said one of the men as he stepped aside and motioned for him to come forward.

The Captain walked up onto the wooden dock and took a few steps forward until he was directly in front of the large box. One of the men opened the lid and looked inside with surprise as the Captain reached over and lifted the top off. The Captain could smell the stench of death from inside the box.

Inside, a young girl lay motionless and bloody, covered in black bruises. A few flies buzzed around her lifeless body, drawn by some form of decay in her flesh. Her eyes were open, staring blankly into nothingness.

The Captain looked at the men before speaking again. “How did she die?”

One of the men shrugged and replied, “A knife wound to the throat. We found her floating in the water just before dawn this morning.”

The Captain looked back at the girl in the box with disgust written across his face. He reached for the girl’s wrist and checked her pulse, his eyes scanning the side of her neck carefully for any sign of life. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw the faint pulsing blood flow beneath the skin. “She is alive then. What happened to her after she was brought here?”

“We tried to take care of her wounds,” said another man from the group. “But she wouldn’t speak to anyone. She kept saying something over and over, repeating the same words: ‘I’m sorry.’ I think someone killed her and then left her to drown,” said the man. He seemed nervous, his hands shaking as he spoke.

“Why would anyone say that?” asked the Captain as he closed the lid. He turned to look at the men standing behind him and said, “Get me some paper. I need to write some things down.”

Several men ran off towards the small town that was located nearby, returning a minute later with three large pieces of parchment. The Captain took the first sheet and wrote, “Dear God, help us find whoever did this to my niece. We are looking for a man named John Smith. If you hear anything, please tell us right away.”

He passed the piece of parchment to one of the men behind him, who then handed it to another sailor. He watched with satisfaction as they read each line, then hurried off to pass the note to others of his crew.

He sat quietly for a moment and considered his next move. The Captain looked out to sea, watching a group of dolphins frolics playfully in the clear blue water. His gaze shifted back to the shore when he saw a familiar figure approaching the docks.

“Ahoy there, John, how goes the hunt?” said the Captain, standing up and stepping down from the dock. “Is everything going as planned?”

“Well, yes and no,” said John. He held out an envelope containing a stack of letters to be delivered to various ports along the coast. “As you can see, we’ve been pretty busy these past few days. We’ve only made it to two other harbors since you last saw me at this spot.”

The Captain nodded thoughtfully as he walked down to where John had set up camp. The man was sitting cross-legged at the end of a pier, holding one of his papers above his head so that it didn’t blow away in the wind. The Captain could see that most of the letter had already been read, as there were numerous crumpled sheets of paper scattered all around him.

The Captain took the paper from John and began reading it himself. He stopped when he came upon one particular passage near the bottom.

The Captain leaned on the rail of the dock, his expression grim. John noticed this immediately and asked if he needed to know what was written.

The Captain sighed and answered, “You might want to sit down for this, John. You’re going to need your strength.”

John quickly obeyed his captain’s order and sat on the ground, propping his legs up against the pilings of the dock, leaning back slightly, his arms resting loosely on his knees. When the Captain was ready to continue, he looked up at his friend. “Alright, let’s have it. What’s so important that I should take some time away from my business to hear about it?”

The Captain looked over the rest of the letter slowly and then continued.

The End

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