Dunes By The Ocean
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The morning air was warm, the ocean breeze gentle and a little salty. He stood in the stern of the ship watching for dolphins and enjoying the sun on his face as it came through the porthole. A few hours to rest and then he would be back at work on repairs—a day later than expected but they were still afloat with their sails full of wind; there had been no need for him to go below after all.
There was something about the sea that always made him feel safe, even though he knew nothing about sailing, and the only thing he could remember having done on a boat before this had been rowing out to a lobster trap on Uncle George’s fishing boat.
‘I thought you might like to see the ocean,’ said Mr. Bunnage from beside him, making him jump in alarm and knocking his spectacles onto the deck. His uncle had brought a small telescope along so he could watch the dolphins. ‘You’ve not seen anything more beautiful than these pastures on the high seas.’
Mr. Bunnage was talking about the horizon line, where green fields of waving grass stretched away to infinity in every direction until disappearing into the blue sky.
‘I think I’ll stay here on the deck, thanks,’ Tom muttered, trying hard not to stare at the man who had just saved the life of his entire family. He couldn’t help noticing that Mr. Bunnage wasn’t quite what he appeared to be – a little taller maybe, but otherwise, there didn’t seem much different.
It was like seeing an old photograph and realizing it was someone else. ‘It’s really very pretty,’ he added, hoping to make conversation without sounding rude.
Mr. Bunnage looked around the ship, his eyes glistening.
‘We’re not going to sink are we?’ he asked quietly.
Tom laughed in surprise, feeling embarrassed and sorry for his uncle.
‘No,’ he replied quickly. ‘We’ve got a few leaks to deal with, but the captain has plenty of water and we’re bound to be back home by tomorrow night.’
‘That’s good,’ Mr. Bunnage smiled, looking relieved. ‘Because if you don’t mind me saying so, there won’t be anyone on board your ship once we get back.’
Tom frowned, confused. ‘What do you mean? We’re already almost a thousand miles from London.’
‘Oh, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding a berth when you return,’ Mr. Bunnage continued as though he hadn’t heard, ‘but I’m afraid you won’t be sailing on the Flying Dutchman again. That’s why I came down to say goodbye.’
Tom’s mouth fell open, then shut abruptly.
‘But…’ he started uncertainly, ‘why would they throw you off? I mean, you saved our lives. And the crew is going to be really grateful – they’ll vote for you to sail whenever you ask them. You should come to dinner with us tonight and I can explain everything.’
As he spoke Mr. Bunnage seemed to grow a little fatter as more water filled his clothes, which were now soaked up to his chest and dripping from his chin.
‘Well, I’m glad we’ve found some common ground at least,’ he chuckled, wiping the moisture from his eyes. ‘Now it seems you’d better let me leave before the tide takes us both away.’
A sudden gust of wind sent Mr. Bunnage tumbling into the sea and Tom watched him disappear beneath the waves. He looked over the side, trying to spot any sign of his uncle but instead, he saw another figure bobbing in the distance.
‘Uncle!’ he shouted and ran back to the stern of the ship.
‘Tom! Get back here!’ cried his father, running alongside. ‘He’s probably drowned. There’s no way he could swim like that.’
Tom ignored his father, ignoring his own fears too. ‘It can’t be him. The water’s so cold – he would never survive.’
They both peered down at the receding figure that slowly shrank to nothing.
‘But what if it isn’t him?’ Tom demanded suddenly. ‘What if it’s just a sailor?’
Mr Bunnage was already halfway across the ocean, his legs kicking out behind him in an awkward attempt to keep his head above the waves. The sun was shining brightly overhead as it rose in the sky, but Tom could tell that it wasn’t quite the same sun he knew from home. Its light was much stronger, brighter, and somehow colder.
‘No, it can’t be,’ he mumbled to himself as he stared at the distant figure. Then he looked up again to make sure Uncle Ben was really gone. ‘I’m sure it is.’
***
The ship sailed on for another two days as Tom struggled to accept that his uncle was actually gone. It was as if the moment Mr. Bunnage disappeared he had also become a figment of his imagination, someone who only existed in the moments between being awake and asleep.
It wasn’t until they reached the coast and found themselves anchored in the port of Deal that Tom allowed himself to grieve properly. His father tried to distract him with fresh bread, jam, and cheese sandwiches but all Tom wanted to do was sit alone, staring into space while his mind wandered through a haze of grief.
Eventually, after much pleading from his parents, he agreed to go for a walk with them, but as they left he made sure to take a heavy shingle hammer from one of their stores.
It wasn’t until they returned that they noticed he had left his hammer behind, but even then neither of his parents could work out why.
Tom’s mother was particularly puzzled when she opened her box of knitting needles. She had carefully wrapped up half a dozen balls of wool and set them aside ready to use for future projects. However, instead of finding six neatly wound skeins of colorful yarn inside, she pulled out three long lengths of rope.
She didn’t understand what Tom had done at first but eventually realized he must have taken the rope apart and stashed each piece away separately in one of their many boxes. When she went to search for the rest of her supplies the next day she discovered he had removed every single item from her craft cupboard, leaving it empty.
It was as though he’d emptied the contents of a toy chest onto the floor.
When his father tried to question him about the matter, Tom refused to answer. Instead, he spent the next couple of hours sitting by himself in the bowels of the ship, staring silently at nothing while tears streamed down his cheeks.
At last, he gave up and walked slowly back below deck, pausing briefly to grab a handful of salt from the barrels on the way. He held the lumpy brown substance in his hand as he made his way toward the captain’s cabin where he knew the two remaining crewmen were sleeping.
His parents were not present; the night watch had been changed and they were now on a different rotation. He knocked loudly on the door but received no response, so he turned the handle and pushed it open. Inside the room, he saw two men fast asleep on either side of the bed and he knew instantly it was the other two that had accompanied him on the journey.
He crept over to one of them and began shaking him gently. The man awoke instantly but instead of looking surprised or alarmed, he simply opened his eyes and smiled.
Tom stared back blankly at him for a few seconds before speaking up.
‘I need to know the truth.’
‘Truth?’ repeated the man.
‘My uncle,’ said Tom. ‘You knew him, did you not?’
The man nodded slowly.
‘Yes, I did. But you’re wrong to think this is his doing.’
‘How can you say that? How can you possibly know?’
‘We’ve been together for almost seven years, Tom. You wouldn’t believe some of the things we’ve seen.’
Tom shook his head, still confused. ‘Then how are you here? Why did my uncle send you with me if he didn’t want me to find the island?’
The man shrugged. ‘I don’t know, but it’s obvious to me now that your uncle didn’t intend for you to come to this place at all.’
‘That doesn’t make sense,’ said Tom. ‘Why would he leave me alone if he knew I was going to die?’
The man shrugged again. ‘Maybe he thought that was best for you.’
‘Or maybe he hoped it might help you realize something,’ suggested the man.
‘Like what?’
The man grinned, and Tom was reminded once more of his friend from his youth.
‘Just like me.’
Tom frowned and shook his head sadly. ‘But I’ve already made my choice. That’s why I came here in the first place.’
‘So you have.’
Tom stood there quietly for a few seconds, unsure whether he should continue to press the man for an explanation. It seemed that he knew far too much for his own good but, on the other hand, there was still so much he didn’t understand. Finally, he spoke up again.
‘Why did you choose to join me, then? Was it just because you wanted to see the world? Or were you sent here to protect me?’
‘Both, Tom,’ replied the man, smiling again. ‘In fact, I suppose I’m here for both reasons.’
‘Then why haven’t you come for me yet?’ asked Tom.
‘Because I need to do things exactly as I intended them to be done.’
‘And what does that mean?’
‘I’m afraid you’ll have to wait and find out yourself. Perhaps it will become clear in time. Maybe not. But one thing’s for certain. I never planned to save you.’
There was no point trying to stop him – even if he’d wished to, there were two men guarding his door now.
As usual, the ship was quiet, the sails filled and the oars lowered. All of the sailors had settled into a routine, moving quickly from task to task without much talking between them. Only once Tom got the boat close enough that he could feel the spray on the water against his face, did they begin to notice that he wasn’t aboard.
One or two shouted out to him but their calls went unanswered. As he continued on his journey, he heard the occasional shout of encouragement from some of the crewmen, though these too were lost behind the wind in moments. By the time he reached the rocks ahead, he was surrounded by a crowd of eager faces that watched him closely as he stepped over the edge of the boat and waded ashore.
The first one that leaped over the side to meet him was one of the guards from the cabin door. His arms outstretched, he grabbed Tom roughly around the waist and lifted him up before swinging him around to face the gathered men.
A cheer rang out across the beach and Tom could hear shouts of encouragement mixed in with the cries for help as the man spun him through the air. The cheers grew louder still when Tom let himself fall, rolling to a halt only inches above the wet sand, but before anyone else had a chance to follow his lead he scrambled to his feet and started running away along the shoreline.
It took them several minutes to catch up. Even then, they weren’t able to get anywhere near Tom until he’d climbed up onto a rock that overlooked the water and stopped. He sat down, resting his hands on the top of the stone, and looked back over the waves to where he’d left them on the beach below.
The cheers faded slightly but they were replaced by a low muttering that gradually grew louder. Tom felt a sudden surge of panic at the sound; he tried to stand but found himself suddenly weak, his legs unable to hold him upright. It was all he could do to remain sitting as the murmurs grew louder.
A few seconds later he heard the unmistakable thud of someone’s boot hitting the ground and turned to see the two guards standing beside him, looking down at him expectantly. They each held a rope in their hand and Tom couldn’t help feeling that they were about to tie him up again.
One of the guards began to speak, his voice loud and authoritative as he addressed Tom: ‘You’ve made us all very angry today, sir.’
Tom smiled weakly but kept his mouth shut. There was nothing he could say in response that wouldn’t further antagonize the guards and he could tell by the way their eyes moved slowly toward their companion that they weren’t going to wait for him to speak anyway.
The second guard continued, ‘But I think we’re starting to see that there really is no escape from this island.’
He paused and gave Tom a hard stare for a moment before speaking again.
‘We can’t go any further than here either, can we?’
Tom shook his head slowly, unable to reply.
‘Good,’ said the first man.
He pulled the rope out of his belt and threw it forward.
‘Come here.’
Without hesitation, Tom sprang to his feet and started walking over to meet him. As soon as he was within range, the guard swung his arm back, looping the rope around Tom’s neck tightly. Tom gasped and struggled against his grip but couldn’t make any difference as he dragged the end of the rope between them.
The other man laughed and slapped Tom lightly on the back.
‘There, you see, sir? No escape at all!’
Tom closed his eyes tight against the pain of being choked and waited for the inevitable kick to send him sprawling to the ground. Instead, he was lifted off the ground and hoisted onto the back of one of the horses. His captors didn’t bother tying him in place, merely lifting him effortlessly by his bound arms, which hung lifelessly at his side.
They rode in silence across the rocky landscape for a while until the horse slowed and stopped abruptly as the first man dismounted.
‘Here we are, sir!’
Tom opened his eyes wide and looked around as the man helped him down from the saddle. He stood on the edge of what appeared to be a long wooden pier stretching out into the ocean. To his right and left were stacks of barrels that stretched out almost as far as he could see, their tops visible through gaps in the wood above his head.
Above them, a narrow walkway led to another stack of barrels and beyond that, a large building sat atop a hill that rose steeply behind them.
‘What are those things?’ Tom asked quietly, pointing to the barrels stacked in front of them.
‘That, sir, is rum. It’s the best rum on all of God’s earth if I do say so myself. The finest thing since sliced bread!’
He grinned widely at the thought of something he’d once been fond of eating for breakfast.
‘And that building over there, sir, is our distillery. I’m sure you’ll agree it’s quite a sight.’
The man gestured at a large chimney sticking out of the roof and Tom nodded in understanding.
‘And that hill behind us, sir?’
‘Well, I don’t know what you would call it but to me, it looks like an observatory or maybe a church. That’s where we keep all of our telescopes and suchlike.’
Tom raised his eyebrows in surprise at the news. He’d never seen anyone use a telescope before and wasn’t surprised to learn that such instruments hadn’t existed in the time of his own father, let alone when he was young enough to have had an interest in them.
The man looked at him expectantly. ‘What can I say, sir?’
‘Where’s my wife?’ he demanded angrily. ‘Tell me she’s safe.’
The man frowned but Tom couldn’t care less. He needed to hear that they were alive, regardless of who might be hurt because of the lie.
‘Your wife? Your missus, sir? Well…’ The man looked uncertainly towards the shoreline.
Tom scowled and grabbed hold of the man’s shirt collar.
‘I want to talk to her now! Tell her that I love her more than anything else in this world and that she needs to come home as fast as she can!’
The man looked down at him nervously, trying not to look directly at the rope that dangled loosely between them. After a couple of seconds though, he spoke again.
‘Your missus isn’t here. If you mean to ask about your children, then they’re all fine. I’ve seen them myself.’
Tom let go of the man’s collar and stared back at him blankly for a second before finally turning away.
‘I need to see them!’ he shouted back.
The man shrugged his shoulders and walked back along the wooden dock. As he neared the end, he turned and looked back at Tom.
‘If it makes you feel better, sir, I don’t think there’s any way that you’ll ever see them again.’
The End