Tales and Truth
Ferriman was sick. He looked really sick. He looked like death warmed up and he was close to throwing up. Ceilí moved a little farther away from him. There was one thing that she really hated, and that was the smell of vomit. Dodge watched her and offered her a place beside him, but she ignored him and cuddled against Santos, who was busily studying the plans of the Arctic Warrior. The main engine wasn't working correctly after the crash with the huge ocean liner. The Spanish man almost slapped himself across the forehead when he realized what he would have to do. It was only a small thing to fix to make the ship stabilize until they could repair it. They would need a lot of metal to close the holes in the outer hull. And they would have to patch up the Antonia Graza to tug her back to Anchorage. He wasn't that convinced if their small boat could tug such a huge ship, but Murphy was so damn sure of it all.
"Ey, preciosa!" he grinned and put an arm around Ceilís shoulder. Dogge watched them with rising suspicion and was close to hitting himself for this stupid kind of jealousy. He knew that for Santos, the perfect girlfriend was his Cadillac. There was nothing more valuable in his life besides this car and he always took care of it like it was a baby. Well, at least whenever they were home in Anchorage. Ceilí seemed to feel his intense stare and smiled at him. But this smile made it even worse. It was such a hard time for him, to sit there and pretend that everything was ok, when all he wanted was to touch her, kiss her and feel her.
"The captain of the Mary Celeste was Benjamin Briggs, 37, a master with three previous commands. On November 7, 1872 the ship departed from New York with Captain Briggs, his wife, young daughter and a crew of eight. The ship was cargoed with 1700 barrels of raw american alcohol bound for Genoa, Italy. The captain, his family and crew were never seen again." Murphy said. "But the ship was seen several times ashore before Tripolis."
"That's a lot of booze..." Greer grinned.
The crew sat around the little table in the social room, listening to what he told them.
"Ghost ships...ah, this is ridiculous. There is always a rational explanation for it!" Munder muttered. He hated supernatural things, so he had decided long ago not to believe in anything like that, always avoiding such things.
"You know what this sounds like? Bullshit!" Dodge grinned but when he saw the expression on Murphy's face he shut his mouth immediately.
Murphy glared at him. "I've been out there before you were born, Dogde."
"I know..."
"And I've seen things even more strange than this." He paused and Ferriman stood up.
"Then why don't we go and see what's up there?" he said with a strange edge in his voice.
Epps looked at him and back to Murph. It was as if she could read his mind. He wanted to look around the ship, of course. So did she. There was something mysterious going on and she had no clue what it was. But she wanted to find out, that she knew for sure.
Outside the rain had stopped and the moon covered the ship in pale light. It was just enough light to see where to step without stumbling to the ground.
"Like I said, she looks like shit!" Munder whispered and Dodge laughed. Murphy threw an angry glare at them and both quieted immediately. Ceilí carried the flashlight and went first, Dodge followed closely, always prepared to grab for her if something unexpected should happen. They found the bridge and the logs but nothing explained why she was here, where the passengers were and what the bloody hell happened on board this ship. They split into three groups, Murphy and Greer, Epps and Ferriman, who had been allowed to come after quarreling a lot, and Dodge, Munder and Ceilí. Santos had stayed back on the Arctic Warrior to fix the front engine.
Ceilí did not want to be alone on the Arctic Warrior but she was also scared of the Antonia Graza. And when Epps and Munder sang the Love-Boat-themesong, her laugh was too loud and artificial. Greer seemed to feel the same. Ferriman walked as if he knew the ship and opened doors that no one thought to open with bare hands. But all of them were busy thinking thoughts of their own, and no one cared about the strange things that were happening.
Ferriman smiled inwardly.
Ferriman was sick. He looked really sick. He looked like death warmed up and he was close to throwing up. Ceilí moved a little farther away from him. There was one thing that she really hated, and that was the smell of vomit. Dodge watched her and offered her a place beside him, but she ignored him and cuddled against Santos, who was busily studying the plans of the Arctic Warrior. The main engine wasn't working correctly after the crash with the huge ocean liner. The Spanish man almost slapped himself across the forehead when he realized what he would have to do. It was only a small thing to fix to make the ship stabilize until they could repair it. They would need a lot of metal to close the holes in the outer hull. And they would have to patch up the Antonia Graza to tug her back to Anchorage. He wasn't that convinced if their small boat could tug such a huge ship, but Murphy was so damn sure of it all.
"Ey, preciosa!" he grinned and put an arm around Ceilís shoulder. Dogge watched them with rising suspicion and was close to hitting himself for this stupid kind of jealousy. He knew that for Santos, the perfect girlfriend was his Cadillac. There was nothing more valuable in his life besides this car and he always took care of it like it was a baby. Well, at least whenever they were home in Anchorage. Ceilí seemed to feel his intense stare and smiled at him. But this smile made it even worse. It was such a hard time for him, to sit there and pretend that everything was ok, when all he wanted was to touch her, kiss her and feel her.
"The captain of the Mary Celeste was Benjamin Briggs, 37, a master with three previous commands. On November 7, 1872 the ship departed from New York with Captain Briggs, his wife, young daughter and a crew of eight. The ship was cargoed with 1700 barrels of raw american alcohol bound for Genoa, Italy. The captain, his family and crew were never seen again." Murphy said. "But the ship was seen several times ashore before Tripolis."
"That's a lot of booze..." Greer grinned.
The crew sat around the little table in the social room, listening to what he told them.
"Ghost ships...ah, this is ridiculous. There is always a rational explanation for it!" Munder muttered. He hated supernatural things, so he had decided long ago not to believe in anything like that, always avoiding such things.
"You know what this sounds like? Bullshit!" Dodge grinned but when he saw the expression on Murphy's face he shut his mouth immediately.
Murphy glared at him. "I've been out there before you were born, Dogde."
"I know..."
"And I've seen things even more strange than this." He paused and Ferriman stood up.
"Then why don't we go and see what's up there?" he said with a strange edge in his voice.
Epps looked at him and back to Murph. It was as if she could read his mind. He wanted to look around the ship, of course. So did she. There was something mysterious going on and she had no clue what it was. But she wanted to find out, that she knew for sure.
Outside the rain had stopped and the moon covered the ship in pale light. It was just enough light to see where to step without stumbling to the ground.
"Like I said, she looks like shit!" Munder whispered and Dodge laughed. Murphy threw an angry glare at them and both quieted immediately. Ceilí carried the flashlight and went first, Dodge followed closely, always prepared to grab for her if something unexpected should happen. They found the bridge and the logs but nothing explained why she was here, where the passengers were and what the bloody hell happened on board this ship. They split into three groups, Murphy and Greer, Epps and Ferriman, who had been allowed to come after quarreling a lot, and Dodge, Munder and Ceilí. Santos had stayed back on the Arctic Warrior to fix the front engine.
Ceilí did not want to be alone on the Arctic Warrior but she was also scared of the Antonia Graza. And when Epps and Munder sang the Love-Boat-themesong, her laugh was too loud and artificial. Greer seemed to feel the same. Ferriman walked as if he knew the ship and opened doors that no one thought to open with bare hands. But all of them were busy thinking thoughts of their own, and no one cared about the strange things that were happening.
Ferriman smiled inwardly.