I woke up at 9:00 am.
“Mom, mom I am late for school!” I jumped up, running into the living room. Mom sat on the chair, crying.
“Mom, what’s wrong?”
“Ummm, I don’t know how to say this, but your dad’s funeral is tomorrow at 10:00am.”
“No, why”?
“Remember when the nurse took me in the hall yesterday”?
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s what she was telling me about.”
I woke up at 8:00 and I was crying, the rest of the day passed in a blur and before you know it I was putting on my dress and went to the funeral home. When we arrived, I walked up to the front were the coffin was setting. I took a look and broke down in tears. My mom walked up to me and touched my shoulder. Mom and told me the service was about to start so I needed to take a seat. I walked and sat beside my aunt. The preacher was talking about how he was a good, hardworking man. My mom sang a song dedicated to my dad called Amazing Grace. After that, we walked out to the parking lot and got in the cars, my mom and my dad’s mom and other family member got in the black Cadillac with the coffin. We went to memorial gardens. We all got out of the car and stood around the coffin.
“Do you have any last words?” said the preacher.
My mom walked over and talked about the things they have did together. The preacher ended it in prayer. My mom, aunt, and I let balloons off that had special messages on them. Then everybody there got a rose off the top of the coffin and left.
They let the bars out of the bottom of the coffin, and Boom! The coffin fell in.
History in the Making
“Lower the sails!” the captain yelled, but it was lost in the ferocious roar of the wind.
The captain grabbed the cabin boy by the shoulder as he ran past.
“Take down that sail!” he shouted “Do whatever it takes!”
The cabin boy nodded his head and ran for the sail. The winds were against him and he thought it would be easier running through a jar of molasses. Finally he reached the pole where the sail was attached. It was so dark he couldn't tell what to do. It was the dead of night and all the ship had been awoken by the huge storm. He had to find it, or else they would plummet off the side of the Earth. His hands ran rapidly on the side of the pole, splinters being dug deep into his hands until his nimble fingers closed around a tough, cylinder, shaped object and pulled. The sail was detached and flew into the wind.
“NO!”
He threw himself at the cloth soaring in the air and caught the sail in midflight. He hit the ground with the sound of bone hitting wood. Lewis was dragged across the ship on his back, still clinging onto the sail, until he hit the side and was flipped over backwards. Lewis grabbed onto the side for dear life with one hand, the other still clutching the large piece of cloth. The wind was too much for the sail. The part he was clutching on was torn from the rest, and it flapped into the stormy night. He watched it disappear, still in shock of what had just happened, and then slowly climbed up the side of the deck. He lay down, sprawled out against the cold, wet surface of the wood.
***
He felt the angry glares around him burning into his skull. He sat atop a barrel, his head in his hands.
“Congratulations!” the caption said suddenly.
The cabin’s boy lifted his head following several confused grunts.
“This boy has saved our lives! I think that is worth congratulating!” the caption continued.
“He lost the sail!” One of the Seamen shouted.
“We’re stranded out here!” cried another.
“If it wasn’t for this boy we would all be stranded in the sea or at the bottom of it dead!” the caption yelled at the others. “I didn’t see any of you trying to do anything, running around like a bunch of toddlers!”
“I took action!” One boasted “I made the ship lighter so we wouldn’t sink!”
“How did you do that?” the cabin boy asked.
“Threw the food crates over into the water of course!” he said, cheerful still.
“We had very limited food, why in the world would you through it overboard!” the caption yelled.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything,” he said, suddenly gloomy and embarrassed.
“So now we don’t have any food nor can we search around to find any!” said a Seaman who had not yet spoken up before.
“No! Look there!” the Cabin Boy cried as he stood on his barrel.
He was pointing into the distance where he could see a large hunk of green land. The Seaman in the crow’s nest, who had been staring down, listening to the conversation, straightened up and cried,
“Land hoe!”
“A little late for that, isn’t it?” The caption sneered.
The Seaman flushed.
“Launch the boats, lower anchor!”
They all untied the smaller rowboats from the side of the ship. Five people got into one, so they all fit into three. The Cabin Boy was next to first, which meant he had to row. He slowly began to push the large sticks.
“Put your back into it!” the Seaman in front of him said.
“How about you do it, Richard?” The cabin boy growled.
He was mad at him because he had been the one who had spoken out the most against him in the earlier argument about him losing the sail. And he had pestered him the trip, giving him jobs that he himself was told to do.
“There is no reason you can’t do it you little—“
“His request is reasonable, you have reached man-hood.” said the seaman right behind the cabin boy, named Augustus, who had helped him the most throughout the trip.
“I suggest that you shut your—”
The cabin boy pushed as hard as he could on the oar and it went up into the air, and then he yanked it left. It hit him on the side of head and he fell overboard. Everyone was laughing. The cabin boy turned his head in the direction of the caption in the other boat. He smiled at the boy and winked. The seaman’s hands came out from under the water, and then re-submerged under. Quickly the cabin boy ran forwards and stole the front seat. Finally the seaman’s hands gripped the side of the boat and he pulled himself up. He snatched out a dagger from his belt and raised it to strike him.
“Let’s see how you like this Lewis Night!”
Bang!
The caption fired his pistol, casing the dagger to soar overhead into the ocean.
The seaman grabbed his pistol and fired it. It missed the caption and made a hole in the boat’s Spanish flag.
“I’ll get you Martin!” he yelled.
His last goal was not achieved. Another deafening bang and the seaman had a bullet through his forehead. He fell back into the ocean and didn’t come up.
“Who are they?” one of the other seamen asked.
Lewis (for that was his name) returned his attention to the beach. There were people with darker skin standing on the shore.
“They have got to be the Indians. They must have heard the commotion. Put you weapons away, killing a crew member might not be the best first impression.”
Only then did he realize just how many of the crew members held weapons. Even he himself held his one weapon, a hunting knife. He, like everyone else, sheathed his weapon as they approached the island. Soon they had docked and Lewes’ feet hit sand. He still felt the rocking of the sea. It had been three months until he had felt solid land, and he was never happier. He tossed grains of sand into the air as if it was tropically snowing.
“Land hoe!” he yelled.
He knew he was losing it. The natives stared down from a cliff overlooking the beach. The children were making fun of him, throwing dirt and mud from the cliff up into the air and it landed down below. Soon his hair was full of gunky mud and bits of scattered dirt.
“Well you try to go to sea as long as I did!” he shouted up.
The Indian children continued to through bits of twigs, mud, dirt, grass, and small rocks down below.
“Well, I
think we’ve certainly made for an entertaining first impression.” The captain said, now at his side.
He brushed the gunk out of Lewis’ hair.
“Thanks.” He said, at the same time trying to spit out a glob of mud.
"First off," the caption said to his crew, "we are going to need a place to set down."
"There!" someone said from the back.
He was pointing to a cave in the side of the cliff.
"Great!" the caption confirmed "You," he pointed to a group of semen who had been chatting alone, and they immediately stopped. "Go back to the ship and gather supplies. You go with them." he said, indicating Lewis. "The rest of you follow me."
While the others followed the caption into the cave, Lewis and the all of the rest of the seamen, which included Augustus, got into the row boats. Each of them toke one, all except for Lewis who got into one with Augustus. Together they all rowed towards the boat. After so far out, he glanced to his right. It was the place where the angry seaman had been shot dead. He could have sworn that he still saw a trickle of blood floating on the surface of the water.soon he felt the boat jar and saw that they had reached the ship and that he had been staring at the water the whole time. Lewis gripped the rope that connected to the anchor and put his hands one after the other, slowly beginning to climb up. Soon, he was at the top, the first one there, and others came over a few moments later. He was not appreciative of the continuous rocking of the ship as miniature waves crashed on the wooden sides.
“All right, scout the ship for all useful supplies.” said Augustus, and with that they all began searching the ship.
Lewis went up onto the quarter deck where he knew there were supplies. He went to the first barrel, which was the one he had sat atop, thinking that he had stranded the entire ship because of him ripping down the sail. He grabbed it with both hands and threw it into the row boat down below. After that, he continued with the rest, some heavier, some lighter, until the quarter deck was clean. Then He went down to the hold to find all the other seamen gathering barrels and climbing up the stairs. He had to press against the stairwell wall to avoid having his head taken off by Augustus carrying a large wooden crate that took up most of the stair-case. When he got at the foot of the stairs he could only see one remaining crate, which was about the size of him. He heaved it onto his back and slowly puffed toward the stair case. It weighed many times more than Lewis himself did, and he was now sure of the reason why they left it for last. He finally got to the end of the hold and looked up at the stairs before him. They seemed to have expanded miles longer than when he had first come down. He began to taken one ever so slowly step after another, the floorboards creaking under the combined weight. It had felt like hours before he had finally gotten to the top. His eyes where bloodshot and watery, so he closed them until he got them back under control. He walked blindly to the spot where he was sure the row boat was. He then lifted it up and threw it.
“Ahhhhhhhhhh!”
His eyes shot open as he fell towards the Ocean. He apparently had not lifted the barrel high enough because it was on top of his stomach, pulling him down. He looked to his side and saw the row boats almost onto the shore. His eye flared in pain as the salt water salt water seeped into his eyes as he submerged. He closed his eyes again and did not open them until he felt his back hit sand. He was surrounded by coral to his front, right and left. He looked up and immediately wished he didn’t. A shark was swimming right before his eyes. At the sound of the sudden Swoosh made the creature look down. A smile crept across his face that probably meant “Yippee! Dinner!”
Then a pair of two electric eels swam up behind it.
“Just my luck.” Lewis thought to himself.
Then shark lunged, and Lewis screamed. No sound came out, but his whole mouth filled with water. He immediately closed it shut tight, and turned around to look behind him. He prayed that there would be some kind of exit, some way out of being devoured by a ravenous shark, because if there wasn’t the only way out was the top, and that wasn’t a wise option.
Thank-fully, behind him was a large underground cave with tall stalagmites that looked 3 feet long. He swam quickly, barely avoiding the shark’s swift attack. It was momentarily dazed, thinking it had caught him, but Lewis knew this was not much of an advantage. Soon the Shark was back up to his game of chase. He swam as fast as he could. He looked back and refilled his mouth with water for he had accidently swallowed it. The shark’s jaws where inches from his toes. Centimeters. Millimeters.
Crack!
Rock flew in every direction as the shark slammed into a stalactite. This gave Lewis just enough time to get a few yards ahead. It had gotten up and was angry now. It was soaring straight at him. Lewis’ lungs were fit to bursting. He knew he was dead.
If I die because of their stupid prank, I am so going to kill them.
Then a new flurry of hope pumped in his chest. Above there was dim light filtering into the water. He could see the sand rising higher and higher and the shark getting closer and closer…
“Ahhhhhh!!!”
Before he knew what was happing, he was flying through the air, thanks to a last minute jump, and felt a huge pain shoot down his right leg from the ankle down. He saw dark red blood being swung into the air as felt sand hit his face, then everything went black.
***
His eyes slowly opened all he saw was more darkness.
“Great,” he said “Guess I really am dead.”
It wasn’t exactly what he expected heaven to be like. He imagined it as a never-ending city on white clouds and a pink atmosphere with translucent building and streets of gold and for it to be as bright as the sun. But all he saw was more darkness. Grains of sand bit into his check. Almost like sand…
He rolled over and looked around. He could see the rocky walls of a tavern, sand at the spot where he was laying and the ocean at his side.
“So, I guess I’m not dead,” he said aloud.
He thought that he would be on the shore of a beach, but he then realized he wasn’t. There was rock on all of the sides except for the space leading to the ocean. Something large and smooth lay under his back. He tried to stand up, but the pain was too much, and had to lie back down. He out stretched his hand and gripped his leg. He felt a mix of water and blood coated his fingers at touch and so he slid them to where the blood was the greatest. His fingers ran out of bloody leg before he felt his foot. He ran them over again and still couldn’t feel it. Finally he lifted it in front of his eyes and saw in the dim light that his foot was gone.
“That ignorant shark must have bite of my foot.” He said, his voice thick with anger.
He felt around on the shore and found a long wooden stick lying flat on the sand. He picked it up and dug it into the ground in front of him. He then yanked and managed to lift himself off the ground. He leaned on the side of it like a cane. He reached down to grab the item that was sticking him in the back.
“Gold!” Lewis said, jovial.
It was the West Indies anyway. It certainly could be gold.
He wiped his across the ground and picked up what had been laying there. It was smooth, slick, and light . not at all like he imagined undiscovered gold to feel like. He raised it up to the light and saw that it was actually a message in a bottle. He stuck it into his pocket, for it was to dim to read, and began searching for the source of the light. He didn’t see how there could be light, because he was completely surrounded by the ocean and rock walls. He kept looking, his hands rubbing against the rugged surface of the rocks, until he found where the light was coming through. It was a hole in the cavern wall full of rubble and rocks, with tiny cracks of light shiny into the darkness. He stabbed his cane/stick at it and with a few swift hits knocked them down. He then tossed the stick out the hole and climbed through himself. He barely fit, scraping his side pretty badly on the way out. He landed head first on a sandy and grassy cliff side beach, the smells of the outdoors filling his nostrils. It was kind of
sunny, but the island was surrounded by fog. He lay there awhile, exhausted after barley avoiding death from a shark attack and/or drowning. He smelled the great outdoors again. He could smell something cooking, and only then realized how hungry he was. He staggered to his feet (actually more like foot) and looked where the smell was coming from. He could smell it from a forest cluttered with trees. He began speed-limping into the forest. He walked through and was amazed by what he saw. He was looking at several different colored birds, some that looked like they had flown into a rainbow. He saw a long, narrow river that flowed down into a pond in what appeared to be a village.
“More Indians.”
He crept closer, dodging between trees until he could hear the sounds of the village. He was surprised that he had not heard it before, because it looked like they were all talking very loudly. And their voices still seemed discontented.
“Wait a second, I bet my ears are clogged with water.”
He tapped his head roughly and heard an odd throbbing noise that echoed inside his head.
BUM! BUM! BUM!
He tilted his head to the right and wacked it with his hand. He then tilted it to the left and repeated the same thing. Slowly, the hot water trickled out. Now the sounds came clear and loud, baby’s crying, children yelling, and adults giving orders and explaining thing to the kids. Several people turned skinned animals, such as dear and rabbits. Men sat and lay by the river, clearly tired, taking big gulps of water. They were covered with sweat, bows lying next to them. It appeared that they had been out hunting.
“At least they have some food. Man, am I hungry,” he muttered.
Lewis looked up and saw a round purple fruit hanging off of a tree branch. He reached up and plucked it from its dwelling. He ravenously chomped down on the fruit and reached up for another.
“Ahhhhhhh!”
He felt like his stomach might dissolve. Suddenly he was hurling it back up, choking as he felt his throat closing. He, in a panic, launched himself into the river and drank face down. The water appeared purple, but was quickly becoming darker. All logical thoughts where slipping away, and suddenly he felt someone tug at him. Then he was brought back up and could only see a concerned Indian women’s face before he passed out.