Ivan kept his eyes on the professor’s back during the whole makeshift funeral. It was more like a few stones were put together on the greyish beach with just a piece of old lumber stuck in the middle. They had no way to organize it properly, but they couldn’t as well ignore the fact that Axel’s son wasn’t with them anymore. The future of the expedition hang in the air, much like the dark sky and smell of rotten fish that splashed across the dead shore.
"It’s ... It’s not Mr. Smythe’s fault," Ivan managed to utter before the professor hushed him.
"I know, dear friend. I know ... " he replied softly before heading toward a hunched-down man that stopped crying some time ago.
"Mr. Pickman ... my sincerest condolences," he waited for a moment to see the man’s reaction, but since there wasn’t one, he continued, "I’d understand if you do not
"Stop."
The professor silenced himself, biting his lip, as he patiently stood next to the man that still crouched next to his son’s grave.
"He suffered from a rare illness his whole life. My wife and I painstakingly took care of him ... "
There was a long pause before Pickman would finish his thought. The waves, now smaller and calmer hit the sand at a steady uneven pace. A calming sound that was disrupted by the low deafening gusts.
"I’d be lying if I wasn’t just a tad bit relieved it’s finally over."
Smythe looked down on Pickman, not surprised at his words.
"Seeing him in pain ... day after day ... I’d be a goddamn liar if I said I wasn’t relieved he won’t suffer any longer ... I ... I want to continue with the expedition."
The man stood up, facing the professor, staring at his yellow eyes hidden behind square glasses.
"How come, if I may?" Smythe was curious.
"I don’t want his death to be in vain ... the way his life was," Pickman admitted.
"I see ... " Smythe put his hand on the man’s shoulder, "I will personally make certain that it won’t be. I vow to make the greatest discovery our kind has ever made, in honor of your son. Didn’t you notice? Our team is assembled only of huma—"
"You are an excellent liar, Smythe."
Taken aback, Smythe put his arm away and subconsciously took a step back.
"You don’t even know my son’s name, do you?"
"I ... "
"You
Pickman pushed him with his shoulder as he passed, joining the rest of the group, and leaving Smythe with his thoughts. His expression didn’t change at the man’s monologue. He fixed his glasses and turned around, limping behind the rest of them.
* * *
The island was but a stop on their journey. With the ship that brought them here gone by now, they were to stay on the island for three days until another ship would pick them up. To sail into the northern seas, they would need the power of an icebreaker; one of the rarest vessels in existence and a pinnacle of human craftsmanship.
"Open! Open up!" Smythe’s white glove hit the door frantically, "By the gods ... " he clenched his teeth in frustration and disappointment.
Smythe realized a long time ago; there were two conditions for a person to get genuinely upset. Two conditions were to be met if a person is to experience untamed anger. Rarely was anyone able to control themselves if those two conditions came at them at the same time like a two-headed dog.
First, the value of shock. If a person was taken by surprise by what has happened to them, with no way of predicting the way events unfolded, and secondly, even more, important was the inability to explain to themselves why things took a turn the way they did.
This was at the core of any human’s sudden rise in blood pressure, a situation that seemingly came out of nowhere and for no apparent reason, and yet it was biting away at the plans they had so far.
It was a situation like this that befall professor Smythe and his attempt to get this expedition back on its feet.
"One blasted thing after another!"
"W-what are you saying ... ?" Annabella asked, wet from the rain, holding her book in one hand and a covered cage in the other.
"There’s no one here ... " Smythe exhaled," ... they were supposed to welcome us and arrange our stay at this island until our next ship arrives. The sea gets colder the further we go and the ship needed to break possible ice, arrives in three days. I had a deal with the locals to accommodate us."
"Well ... maybe they are just not home at the moment. We should check other houses."
At that moment, they both saw Ivan climbing a steep path upwards through a gravely, muddy road that led to the large house under which entrance they were hiding from the rain.
"No good," he shouted, making it clear that the other houses the party had split to search also had no one inside of them.
"This is a bloody nightmare if I ever saw one ... " Smythe said through his teeth.
"Look ... they will understand," Annabella consoled him.
"What do you mean?" he looked puzzled.
"They must acknowledge our circumstances. We have to break in. We can’t, as well, stay outside all night ... "
"Ivan agrees," the bald man clicked his fists.
"Certainly yes. They will have to. Besides, nothing I can’t handle with some compensation," Smythe accepted the idea and gestured toward the window.
A shattering sound was heard and the large man stepped into the house, opening the door from the inside. Smythe waved to the rest of the team together and in the next few minutes, everyone was inside the house, putting their belongings around and taking their drenched clothes off.
The rain was knocking at the rest of the windows in a somber rhythm as the wind kept howling through the broken one.
"Don’t make yourselves too comfortable. This is not the house we were to stay at. It hasn’t got enough rooms," Smythe pulled out a map of the island, sprawling it over the living room table, "We are currently here, and the residence I was going to be handed the key to, is located here, on the other side of the island, behind a forest and near the shore. This residence is a mansion I bought at a reasonably low price for such a large estate, and close to the lighthouse and the port for the icebreaker ship to pick us up in exactly three days."
"We are to remain here for three days? With no food and a place to sleep?" the doctor that was pretty calm until now, started raising his voice, "Not to mention the fact the whole island seems deserted, from what little we have gathered," he gestured toward the outside where there was no life or motion whatsoever except a rare naked tree swinging in the wind.
"Calm down," replied Smythe, showing downward with his palm, "There is most certainly food and water to be found. Does this house look to you as if it was abandoned for months? And whom was I exchanging letters with to arrange our stay and the purchase of nothing short of a mansion for your sweet behind to reside within?!
Bloody ghosts?"
Smythe himself now took a deep breath, trying to heed his own advice, limping toward the kitchen and opening a cupboard or two.
"See here, ye of little faith," he threw a piece of meat at Leah.
The doctor twitched but coughed it. It was a medium piece of well-preserved dried red meat, bonded with a rope.
"We won’t starve for crying out loud. Water tanks should be filled to the brim ... what with all the rain pouring down on us since the moment we set sail. We might as well take what we are given. There are enough experts here for us to be able to ensure our basic needs are met."
At his words and the sight of dried meat, which smell enveloped the room, everyone seemed to have quieted down a bit.
"What about rest? Where do we sleep when the night comes?"
Seeing it was Annabella who raised the question, Smythe realized her concern straight away, since she was the sole female in their team, she would prefer not to share a bedroom with anyone.
"There are plenty of houses. We broke into one ... we can break into a few if needed," Smythe waved his hand and went to the table to sit down.
Comments (38)
See all