One
Trace was up before the sun rose. He sat in the pilothouse in the captain’s chair reading a book, Michener’s, Poland. Hearing a noise forward, he dropped the book to his chest. Coming out of the forward companionway hatch, Adam looked like an escaped convict. He wore slacks and a sports jacket. He hurried across the gangplank and stood near the street. He looked in both directions as if waiting for someone. A cab came after a few minutes. He stepped into the car, and it drove away.
‘Meeting Talei for breakfast,’ Trace thought. He smiled and chuckled. ‘I’d lay money on it. It’s good for him. And her. Something has always been missing in his life. Sometimes that far-away look. I don’t think he knew it. I didn’t know it until now. Whatever happens, happens. I would almost lay money on Talei having that far-away look, too. I wonder how many times she looked east at the same time Dad looked west?’
Trace picked up the book. ‘Hmm, Poland and Sweden, I would never imagine those two going to war. War, what is it good for? Absolutely nothing. In time, borders return, people return to their culture, enemies marry, enemies, trade, empires crumble, nations remain. Conquests are temporary. Once a conqueror dies, the best hoped for is a statue.’
‘Haywood Demeter only wants that,’ Trace thought. ‘History is on his side. Religious zealots collect adherents during their lives. The zealot dies, and the adherents keep him alive. That seems to me a lack of faith in a life beyond. If one is sure, why create a legacy? Just do your job. Anyway, that’s the way I see it. Messiah—chosen one—one, get it?”
After reading further, the odor of breakfast; a conflagration of coffee, bacon, and cinnamon rolls, streamed up the companionway and filled the pilothouse.
Makani brought a coffee to Trace. “How you doin’, boss?”
“Reading a little,” Trace said. “I needed to get my thoughts away from Haywood Demeter for a while, but the more I read, the more I was reminded of him. It seems like all thoughts come back to him.”
“You should try comic book,” Makani said. “You see, you look. No time to think of something else.”
“Is breakfast about ready?” Trace asked.
“Five minutes,” Makani said.
“You didn’t need to bring the coffee,” Trace said.
“This is way of showing, you number one,” Makani said.
“Is that in doubt?” Trace asked.
“Older men on boat,” Makani said. “Respect them but they not boss. That my way of showing them respect, too. This one time, your dad’s ship. Coyote, strong man, used to telling men what to do. He barks. Pete, strong man, used to telling men what to do. Nobody talk back to him. Cally, leader of men. I respect, you Captain. If I bring coffee to them first, they think they boss. Only one. You have two, three, four boss, you have nothing. No boat, no save boy. You captain of boat. Before Cally, you do this without him. He join you. You not join him. If Dad and Coyote not here, we still go.’
Trace nodded slowly. “Thanks, Makani. I needed to hear that. Have you noticed anything? No, but it may come and you have to take stand. Maybe no, but maybe yes.”
“I go,” Makani said. “Burn cinnamon rolls make boss unhappy.” Makani looked as if he wanted to say more, but retreated down the companionway to the galley.
Trace sipped the coffee and thought. ‘Makani would not have said a word unless he saw or felt something strongly. Perhaps I should be a little more attentive. I may be assuming too much.’
Everyone sat at the table for breakfast. Noticeably absent was Adam. Cally was the first to ask, followed closely by Pete.
“He left early this morning,” Trace said.
“Talei?” Sage grinned.
“Of course,” Coyote said. “A cowboy can stay lonely for only so long.”
“That’s where I would be,” Pete said.
Cally said nothing.
Trace glanced at Makani, who sat across the table from him. Makani looked down at Cally, seated at the head of the table.
Cally ate while wearing a scowl.
Trace lifted a fork of scrabbled eggs to his mouth and thought as he chewed. ‘Makani is dead on,” he thought, ‘And so soon. Cally is upset. Cally is seething inside. I can see it.’
“What’s wrong, Cally,” Trace said, “coffee, eggs, bacon? Looks like you swallowed a mouthful of trail dust.”
All eyes shifted toward Cally. Cally sipped his coffee, and everyone returned to eating. Sage and Coyote have heard the tone before—it’s the boss calling someone out.
“Dad caught a cab an hour ago,” Trace said. “He didn’t say anything to me, but my money is on Talei.”
There were some chuckles with agreeing comments. Cally was not among them.
“He didn’t tell me,” Cally said.
“Why would he?” Trace said.
“He didn’t tell anyone,” Cally said.
“Why should he?” Trace said.
“This operation depends on good communication and trust,” Cally said. “He should have at least told you.”
“At least?” Trace exclaimed. “Who should he told at most?”
Everyone sipped their coffee. And swallowed quickly as if it was needed as a bracer. Sage and Coyote knew Trace was an exact copy of Adam. And when Adam sounded like that, whoever was on the other end had stepped into something they could not get out of.
Trace looked at Coyote. One side of Coyote’s mouth curled up into a smile. Trace looked across the table at Makani. He stared back at Trace as if saying, ‘This is the moment.’ He briefly looked at Sage, and he gave a slow and almost unnoticeable nod. Pete slowly drew back and wore a slight smile as if fists might start to fly.
“You said it yourself, not that long ago,” Trace said, staring coldly at Cally. “I’m the captain. This is my boat. I’ve given you some authority. Let’s get something straight. I respect you and will use you, but I don’t need you. This operation was already in motion before you came along. You joined us. We were going ahead without you. I want you to stay, but if you think you have the final say, you can leave and take all your toys with you.”
There was a cough. Someone cleared their throat. Trace and Cally fixed a stare on each other.
Cally raised his eyebrows. “Aye, aye, captain.”
Trace filled his cup. He walked up the steps of the companionway and grabbed Poland from the chart desk. He reclined on the aft deck’s bench.
Trace read a dozen pages when Cally walked through the aft door and sat on the bench across from Trace.
Trace finished the paragraph and dog-eared the page. “You want to leave? Trace asked.
“To the contrary,” Cally said. “I don’t mind being under the command of another. It’s downright refreshing to see somebody speak up like you did. Your dad would be proud. In fact, I thought I was at the table with your dad 30 years earlier. I’m an advisor. I only take charge when you want me to. I was out of line back there.”
“You can disagree with me,” Trace said. “Even get in my face, but not where my crew can see or hear.”
Cally offered his hand. Trace grasped it.
“Poland, Michener,” Cally said. “Good book.”
Cally stood and left.
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