Tom Hoffman woke up to the sound of a car horn blaring in his driveway. He turned over in his bed to stare at the clock resting on his bedside table. It read 6:05 am. He regarded it for a few seconds, trying to comprehend its smooth digital surface. The florescent green numbers looked foreign as he allowed his mind to take a moment to register the information that was lit across the small screen. He slowly began to lift himself up from his mattress to look up at the calendar hanging on the wall across the room, reading it with foggy eyes.
Recognition swept over Tom as the digital numbers on the clock switched to 6:07 am. I don’t have work on Saturday’s… Why am I awake? Tom wondered to himself.
The car horn blared again loudly. The noise’s presence scattered his thoughts like leaves being scattered by a leaf blower. Tom turned to the window at the far end of his room and studied it with another confused look. The car horn blared a third time as a small blue glow was pouring into the room from the windows rectangular frame.
The car horn continued to sound loudly, relentlessly. Tom yelled in frustration at the annoying sound. The driver outside wasn’t being very considerate.
“Who the heck is blaring their horn at this hour?!” Tom yelled in the direction of his window in a voice that hadn’t been used in hours.
He pushed himself out of bed and walked over to the window, pulling at the blinds clumsily so he could see who the culprit was. He stared out over his front lawn, spotting the disturber of the peace quickly. Sitting in his driveway was a very nice sports car, behind the wheel a very chubby man in a white polyester suit. Tom was going to open the window and yell at the loiterer when it suddenly hit him. Today was the day of their departure to the Island! Marten had told Tom he would come pick him up at 6:15 in the morning.
Tom cursed under his breath as he rushed to his closet and threw open the doors with one smooth motion. His eyes ran frantically down the many shelves until he spotted the clothes he was going to wear on the journey.
How could I have forgotten that the trip was today, Thought Tom in bewilderment. We have been planning for it for a month now! He grabbed his clothes and threw them on. His body wiggled back and forth as he struggled to get his T- shirt over his head. When he was done dressing he ran over to the night stand and grabbed his shoes. He was in the process of tying them when the car horn blared sharply through his bedroom window again. This time Marten seemed to hold the horn down longer.
“Give me a minute! I’ll be right there!” yelled Tom frantically as he grabbed his watch off the dresser. He buckled it around his wrist and then placed his leather wallet in his back pocket. When he was finished he ran for the front door. His bags were already waiting for him at the threshold. He had packed them a week in advance just in case there was a need to leave unexpectedly. Tom grabbed them and was about to leave when he spotted a yellow letter resting on the ground by the base of the door. He put his luggage down and picked it up. On the front of the note was etched a fancy signature. It was written in blue ink and had a peculiar stamp. Tom recognized the writing to be Runt’s and wondered for a moment why he would leave him a letter on the day of departure but, seeing the need to leave quickly, he pocketed the letter without another thought about it, fumbling in his pockets for his house keys.
He heard Marten shout his name from the car. He opened the front door and waved to the agitated man sitting in his driveway. Marten waved back to him halfheartedly.
“Give me a minute, I have to lock up!”
“Well, make it quick, man!” Marten yelled out of the side window of his car. “We are supposed to meet Lee and Runt at Dock 49 in thirty minutes! The ship will be leaving in just around an hour! And if I know Lee, that dirty little sailor will do anything to leave me behind. He has been joking about it for a while, and I think he might have the gall to actually do it. That man is so uncivilized… We need to go!”
Tom ignored his complaining and locked the front door to the house. He picked up his bags bringing them in the direction of the idle car.
Once he had situated his things in the back seat and closed the door, he climbed into the front, Marten at his side.
“What took you so long? I was waiting in your driveway for ages! I thought we agreed that I would come pick you up so that you wouldn’t need to take the bus. I was this close to leaving you, this close,” said Marten as he held up a hand and held his thumb and index finger a millimeter apart. “If you hadn’t responded when you did you would be walking to Dock 49!”
Tom buckled his seat belt and glanced over to Marten. The chubby man looked disgruntled. Tom knew he wanted an explanation for his delay.
“I overslept. Sorry Marten!” He said quickly as the man’s face got contorted with disapproval. “But look,” said Tom as he pointed to the clock above the CD player. “No harm done, it’s only 6:18 am. Right on schedule! Let’s get going, wouldn’t want to be late!”
They pulled out of the driveway slowly and headed down the quiet neighborhood. At first the drive led them through Tom’s small suburban town, down Main Street and before much time had elapsed at all, they were on the freeway, cruising straight for the city in the distance.
Tom watched as the morning light hit the heavy smog that hung over the tall buildings. Aggerton City always looked so dirty in contrast to the county. It was like viewing a black spot on a brilliant painting. I wonder where all that smog comes from, Thought Tom. The place is like a gas chamber.
The car carried them smoothly across the countryside as they passed by the open farming planes on the side of the freeway. The wheat and grass stalks swayed back and forth in the cool morning breeze, like little arms. It was almost as if the whole land were waving goodbye to the two men as they went, wishing them an amazing journey and a happy trip.
Marten looked out at it all and shook his head. He felt like gagging as he took in the dirty farmland outside the city.
“It always smells out in the country,” he said to Tom. “I don’t know how you can live out here.” He rolled up his window and turned on the air conditioning.
Tom looked over to him and smiled.
“Yep, in some areas it does get pretty smelly, but that’s just because we’re driving past the cattle farms. Most of Aggerton’s food is grown out here on the edge of town. When you eat a steak, or fry an egg, or order a nice green salad it all started here. The farmers pride themselves on growing the best food for the city. It’s truly amazing to think about. The people are independent out here in the country.”
“Independent…What are you talking about, Tom? I don’t think I could ever live this far away from civilization. I need the city. I need Aggerton! I have lived my whole life in the sanctuary of the tall skyscrapers!” He paused and looked over to Tom. “That doesn’t mean I can’t rough it, or that I’m a sissy boy. When I was young my dad used to take me kite flying in the city park, and afterwards we would hang out by the duck pond and eat sandwiches. We would spend all day in the good old ‘outdoors’. I have too many fond memories in the city. It’s hard to even imagine anything outside of it!”
Tom nodded at his words, more because he was at a loss of how to respond to Marten’s crude idea of “roughing it” than because he agreed. Spending a day in Aggerton City Park was far from what Tom considered roughing it. The place had drinking fountains for heaven’s sake; it was not a forest or a jungle. It was a city; it had everything built into it to make life easy and comfortable. Tom could see why someone would be so hooked on the adequate businesses and the fast paced lifestyle. If they grew up in it, and all they knew was the city, then of course it would seem like the best place to exist, especially if you’re loved ones were there with you. For Tom it was like that, but with the country.
“I guess, to each his own, right? You have your way of living and I have mine, and there is nothing wrong with that.” said Tom a little unengaged as he let out a big yawn and stretched his arms and legs. His eyes began to water from the strain.
“Yep, I guess you’re right!” said Marten softly. “Some people are just strange when it comes to what they want in life! Some people just want a blanket and pillow and a nice place to sleep. While others need more. A whole lot more!” It sounded to Tom like he was about to lead into some big speech when he abruptly reached over and turned on the radio, totally ending the conversation.
A flamboyant announcer spoke up suddenly from the car speakers. His voice sounded annoying and overly excited as if he had won the million dollar lottery. The man was completely fake.
“Good morning, Aggerton! We have a great forecast for you today. It looks like it’s going to be sun, sun, sun and fun, fun, fun for the whole family. With highs in the upper 80’s and lows in the lower 70’s; if you weren’t planning on going to the beach today, you may want to reconsider. It’s going to be a beautiful weekend! Pull out those kites and get a move on!”
Tom smiled at the exaggerated voice. He reclined his seat and closed his eyes. He listened to the hum of the vehicle as it passed over the rough foibles of the road.
“It looks like it’s going to be another beautiful day, Marten! Perfect weather for sailing the high sea!”
“Yep,” grunted Marten flatly. He reached over and turned up the radio a bit more so that he could hear over the purr of the freeway and drown Tom further out. He had turned on the radio for a reason. The announcer had shifted subjects; he was no longer talking about the weather. He was discussing traffic conditions in and out of Aggerton City.
“We have a few delays in some parts of Aggerton. Highway 45 on the northern end is congested. A semi truck has turned over blocking all four lanes of traffic. Orange hazard crews are working quickly to free up the gridlock. So if you’re heading into the city form Hungport Bay, expect delays! That’s the weather and traffic, we’ll be right back after these short messages!” The radio went to a commercial. Marten reached over and turned it off. He looked over to Tom.
“We got lucky today, Tom. It doesn’t seem like we will be having any delays, both in the weather and traffic. All the accidents that have happened are miles away on the northern end. We’ll be at dock 49 sooner than I expected.”
Tom ignored his redundant statement; he had heard the announcer clearly when he had told them about the weather and traffic. He already understood that the day was going to go smoothly. He opened his eyes and looked outside the window at the fluffy white clouds as they floated by peacefully.
His mind began to drift to more important things. He began to think about the island and the stories that his father had told him about.
“Do you think we’ll actually find it? Do you think it’s actually out there waiting for us?”
Marten looked over to him.
“Find what?”
There was a pause. Both parties thought quietly to themselves for a minute. Tom finally broke the silence.
“You know, Marten. The Island of Liroic. Do you think we can actually find it and get to it?”
“Of course we can, Tom! We have worked out all the directions from the back of the star map. Everything should go smoothly today. At the end of this month that island will be ours. We’ll make history. You’ll be famous!” There was another short pause that came with Marten’s words.
“My father used to tell me stories about King Liroic’s Island. He told me what Grandpa Hoffman used to tell him when he was a boy. He said that our bloodline came straight from that place. He said that there are things on that island that would blow our minds.” Tom paused and took in a deep breath. “I never really believed it was real. It all seemed like a joke or a stupid kid story, made up to humor me as a young child. But now… now it’s real… I am actually going to go to this place.” Marten lifted his eyebrows and gave Tom a weird look.
“Are you going crazy on me, Tom? Because it sounds like you’re going crazy, what with all this talk about you being a descendant. What nonsense is this?”
“I am not going crazy!” said Tom abruptly folding his arms over his chest. “I’m telling you what was told to me when I was very young. I bet our family can trace the Hoffman line back to that Island.” He shifted his thoughts and stared at the dashboard.
“This Island was only a childhood dream three months ago, but today it feels real. Today it feels like I am stepping out of the past and heading into the future. Surely you can feel the excitement, can’t you?”
Marten laughed uneasily.
“Yes, sir! I can!”
Tom ignored him. It was quite apparent that Marten had not daydreamed about the trip quite as much as Tom had. He seemed the type of man who really was in on the trip just for the fame it would bring him. He decided to change the subject before things got stale.
“How much farther until we get to the docks?”
Marten shrugged.
“I don’t know, maybe in about twenty five minutes or so. Everything’s different now that we have no delays! I was planning for delays… and there aren’t any. We should be there very shortly.”
“Good, that gives me enough time to read,” said Tom as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out the yellow letter from Runt. He opened it and read it slowly in his mind. When he was done, he cursed under his breath.
Marten looked over to him with surprise.
“What is it, Tom? What’s the matter? Did someone die in your family? Is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine, Marten. No one is dead!” Tom wondered why on earth Marten would automatically think someone had died.
“Where did you get that letter from?” asked Marten with curiosity. “I didn’t see it in your hands when you got in the car.”
“That’s because I put it in my pocket–”
“Well, who is it from? What did it say?” Marten said, cutting him off sharply.
Tom was annoyed at Marten’s persistence to find out what the letter said. If there was a secret going around, Marten had to know about it. It was in his nature to be pushy and nosey.
“It’s from your boss, Runt. He must have mailed it to me a few days ago; that or delivered it himself. The funny thing is I didn’t hear anyone come by yesterday, and I most certainly didn’t see anyone. It wasn’t on the ground when I got back from work. It was just there this morning, as if it had been pushed under the door.”
“Runt wrote you a letter? That’s amazing! He never wrote me a letter… What does it say? Anything important?”
Tom could hear the jealously growing in Marten’s voice. He savored the moment a bit before he continued.
“It says that he is changing the departure time. It’s because of certain things that have come to his attention. It’s no longer going to be at 7:30. He wants to push it back an hour... and probably farther than that. He said he would meet up with us at the dock later to discuss what’s going on.”
“What things have come to his attention that would cause him to delay the trip? What’s going on? Something is not right!”
Tom opened the letter and peered down at it for a second, his eyes washing over the words, mumbling to himself as he read.
“It says that he has reason to believe that someone from another company might be planning to interfere with the departure today. The letter said that he was going to look into it and find out.”
Marten let out a deep moan. He lifted a hand and started rubbing his temple vigorously.
“I knew something like this was going to happen! I knew we couldn’t keep this a secret from the other companies around the city. Everyone has spies, and everyone is looking for a piece of our fame! I mean, how could we hide it? We practically stopped everything in the company to get ready for this trip!” He let go of his forehead and pounded his fist on the steering wheel. It made a dull thud as it hit. “I kept saying to Runt ‘maybe we should speed things up a bit’ but, no, he wouldn’t listen. Dang it all!”
Tom straightened up, sounding nervous now.
“What are you talking about, Marten? What other company knows about this departure? Tell me, I need to know how bad this is!”
There was a pause then Marten spoke.
“We have reason to believe that Ruler Tootles from Shark Inc. knows about our journey to the Island. We didn’t plan for anything at the time because we were not sure if he really did know. We didn’t want to drop any hint his way, but it appears that he might know somehow. This is bad news, Tom! If Ruler and Mr. Edmonds know, it’s a bad thing!”
Tom bit his bottom lip and looked out the window nervously. Everything they had worked so hard for was going to be compromised by another company. His breathing got quicker as he looked back over to Marten.
“Can this car move any faster? We need to get to Dock 49!”
* * *
Lee Foldings stood on the cement pier and watched as the workers loaded the last of the wooden crates into the S.S. O’ Malley. In his hands was a clipboard that held a list of all the things that needed to be taken care of and accounted for before they could leave port. He had been working all night trying to make sure everything was perfect for the voyage to Liroic’s Island. He had gas tanks stalked in the engine room, washed and inspected the hull for any cracks and checked all instruments for bugs. It was all in working order.
The ship is ready to go, Thought Lee with triumph. It might have taken every hour of my time and strength, but we’re ready to go. He checked his watch to see that the time read 7:05 am. He looked up from his watch to see that his crew was busy placing the last crates down into the hull; the men teetered back and forth as they disappeared into the belly of the ship.
Lee grabbed an FM radio from off his belt, held it to his mouth and pushing the button down, he spoke into the receiver.
“That’s good, Frank. Disconnect the cables and tell the crew to take a break; go get some rest. Go to lunch. All the major moving is done. We won’t be leaving port for another hour or so.”
He took his finger off the button and waited for a response. Static was heard on the other end and the speaker crackled.
“Go to lunch?” the man sounded puzzled “What are you talking about, Lee? It’s only seven, why would we take a lunch break now? And aren’t we supposed to be leaving in like thirty minutes?”
“Sorry about that, Frank. I have been working too much lately. What I meant to say was, go to breakfast… take the whole crew and go to breakfast.”
“Why would we do that? Don’t we leave soon?” asked Frank, still sounding confused.
Lee shook his head to communicate a negative but, of course, Frank didn’t see this.
“No. Mr. Runt has changed his mind about the departure time and maybe the date. He wants the ship to leave much later than planned. Now go do something with the free time.” The speaker cracked again.
“Why would he move the departure time? We completed everything… didn’t we?”
Lee was getting tired with all the questions. He just wanted his crew to obey.
“Frank, I don’t know why everything is all jumbled up now. All I know is that I received a letter from Mr. Runt telling me that the departure was being moved back an hour, or maybe even tomorrow… or next week. I don’t know why he did that, so stop asking questions. Just go home and say goodbye to your family or something. Get some rest… or go to breakfast… just go… and take the crew with you.”
“Okay, you’re the boss, Lee,” said Frank. “What time do you want us back?”
Lee thought for a moment. Then he pressed the button.
“I don’t know. But as soon as I do, you will be the first that I call, okay?”
“Okay,” grumbled Frank. “I guess… I guess just don’t want to go home to the misses just yet. She’s been in one of her moods again. I was hoping that we would be leaving today. You know, give her some time to cool down…”
Lee laughed aloud. Frank had been having trouble with his wife ever since he got married to her.
“You know you can’t run from your problems, Frank! You have to face them. You have to man up and face them!”
“I know. I just wish my problems didn’t have such an ugly face in the mornings!” said Frank with a chuckle.
Lee laughed back.
“You’re an idiot, Frank! Now get your butt off the crane and tell the others to go to lunch…” he paused and cussed loudly. “I mean breakfast! I hate early mornings!”
Lee waited patiently as his workers left the ship yard one by one. They looked tired and forlorn, like a bunch of starved prisoners. Lee didn’t blame them for being that way; they had worked all night to get everything ready for today. They deserved to go home and rest for a bit before the real journey took place. Frank approached Lee as the others left.
“Well, I am taking off. I told all the boys that I would inform them when the trip was back on. They’re really disappointed,” Frank said.
“Thanks, you’re a good foreman.”
“Yes, I’ve heard that a few times in my life. Let’s hope it’s true… but, hey!” said Frank and he looked Lee right in the face.
“What is it Frank?” Lee asked.
“You need to get some sleep… you look like the walking dead. You work too hard for your money. You have to occasionally stop and smell the roses.”
“Thanks for the advice,” said Lee with sarcasm. “You should write the little messages for the fortune cookies! I am sure they would sell!”
Frank gave a laugh, turned and started walking down the dock. Lee watched him go with weary eyes. The scruffy man got about halfway to the shore and stopped, turning around to face Lee once more.
“Hey, Lee. I forgot to tell you… a man came by the other night wanting to look at the engines and the control room. He said you hired him to fix things up around the ship. I let him have a go at it for a bit… I didn’t think you would mind, but I thought I should tell you just in case…”
Lee nodded his head as his eyes ran down his list of things that needed to be checked.
“Yeah it’s okay, Frank. Just go home to your misses!”
“Yes, sir.”
Frank made his way across the dock and was out of site before Lee was done looking over his list. He walked over to a crate and sat down heavily, slowly pulling out the letter he had received from Runt. His eyes read over the words slowly. He was about halfway into the second paragraph when it hit him. I didn’t call for anyone to come look at the engine room. No one is to even be in the engine room without my approval!
Lee looked over to the ship and stood up quickly, his heart racing.
Who had been in the engine room? There was nothing wrong with the engines… they were fine! I checked them myself! Thought Lee frantically.
He was about to run to the ship when someone called his name. Lee looked down the dock as his eyes landed on Tom and Marten. They both looked frantic.
Something isn’t right, thought Lee. He was about to yell back to them when an explosion sounded from behind him and he felt heat on his back. The ship had suddenly exploded into a ball of light and sound and Lee was thrown twenty feet down the pier. His arms and legs flailed wildly as he was thrown into the air and came crashing down onto a wooden shrimp cleaning stand. The structure collapsed on top of him in a giant heap of wood and tin. Quite suddenly, Lee’s world went dark.
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