* * *
Despite my reservations, Stevens did not seem to be bothered by the unusual events surrounding his training. Even on days when he abhorred the thought of more leaning and his teachers snatched him off the streets like some criminals bent on terrible wrong, still he did not suspect.
I can only think that the creatures (I no longer like to call them “men,” for they are too unnatural) exercised more of their dark power over him to keep him compliant.
One day, Edward and his friends were playing in a creek on a particularly gorgeous day for central England. The sun shone brightly, and the temperature was perfectly comfortable for splashing in the cool streams that flowed beyond the outskirts of the town. Being a responsible young man, Edward had already completed his chores for the day, and he was not expected back at his house until dinnertime.
The boys threw rocks into the water, balanced across fallen logs, and splashed each other at every opportunity. While the boys were playing, Edward suddenly froze as though someone had called his name, but neither the boys nor I heard anything out of the ordinary. The boys went on playing as if nothing had happened. Judging by their glances at one another, the boys recognized that this was simply one more of Edward’s quirky behaviors showing through.
“I have to go,” Edward said.
“Go? Why?” a blond boy asked.
“It’s, uh, it’s kind of hard to explain. I just have to go.”
The boys gave Edward a hard stare.
“What’s going on, Eddie?”
“Nothing. I just have to go. I’ve got stuff to do.”
The blond boy stepped closer now. “Why are you trying to ditch us, Eddie? Are you trying to hide something?”
“Listen… I just can’t--”
Edward stopped short as he watched both boys grab the sides of their heads in agony and fall to their knees. “Wait! No! STOP!” His shout was a ragged cry into the wilderness. He could not find the source of the boys’ pain, but the look on his face said he knew he was somehow indirectly responsible.
Master Whitman stepped out from behind a large tree nearby, still the same firm expression on his face as ever. “The boys will be fine once we have gone. They will not even remember that you were here with them.”
“What did you do?” Edward asked. His eyes were brimming with tears.
“No, Edward,” came the calm response. “What did you do? We told you to come along, but you did not respond in time. We needed to remove the distractions from your learning time.”
“I don’t want to learn today! That’s all we do everyday! I just want to play and have fun instead of learning about any more stupid boats.”
Whitman walked toward Edward calmly, staring intently at him.
“Ennnhh! What? What are you doing?” Edward cried.
“I do not wish for you to run away. You have already caused trouble for your friends by not listening to me. I will not permit further disobedience.”
“I can’t move!”
Edward clearly struggled against invisible bonds. Even as he strained, his body swayed where he stood, but he made no progress in leaving that one spot. He seemed as if he would surely topple over, but he never lost his balance.
“It is time to study, Edward. You yourself said that you wished to learn about the ocean more than anything.” Whitman’s voice was impassive. “We have invested too much at this point to allow you to change your mind. At this point, your actions will eventually affect the history of mankind. You now serve a higher purpose, and your own wishes are irrelevant.”
Edward’s eyes seemingly grew larger with each step of his teacher. Whitman stopped in front of his pupil and lifted his hand to his forehead, though he did not strike the boy. The “creature” in the guise of a man touched his fingers to Edward’s forehead, and the boys’ eyes rolled up in his head as he passed out.
Whitman caught the boy and threw him over his shoulder like nothing more than a sack of potatoes. He walked away from the stream.
In my vision, I saw the other boys regain control of themselves and return to playing the same way they had before Edward had first interrupted them. It was as if everything was exactly as it had been before, except that the group of boys was now one short.
4.
When Edward’s learning had finally been deemed complete and the day came to present the idea of his seafaring apprenticeship to his parents, they were surprisingly acquiescent. Perhaps from the mother, I had expected the support, but the father had seemed dead set against it.
On the day of Edward’s birthday, the boy’s father asked him, “What do you think, son? This is the year for your apprenticeship. Will you learn pottery, like your father and grandfather did all those years ago?”
The boy squirmed in his seat as the family sat at the dinner table, but he answered his father with a steady voice. “I want to serve on the seas, Father. I know I can be one of the best. I’ll pilot ships bigger than our town!”
The man’s features contorted into a mask of anger, and – just as suddenly – dissipated into a calm expression once more. “Okay, son. I understand.”
The boy was as confused as I, and he faltered as he spoke. “You d-do?”
“Of course, I believe that you should follow your dreams. If you believe you can be a captain, then you should go for it.” The man’s voice was not unpleasant, but it seemed too neutral for a statement that would decide the course of the boy’s life.
Young Edward looked to his mother for some sort of direction. She also appeared a bit taken aback, but she recovered more quickly. “Well, what do you think you should say, young man?”
Edward looked to his father. “Thank you, sir!”