Sometimes she worked alone, and sometimes she work in conjunction with the old medic. It was quiet work, the repetitiveness of it giving her a sense of balance. She slowly came to know the men she caring for, being especially fond of Otis. He was a dying man, his life a fleeting image, but every time she went to hold his hand his stories made him come alive, and the sickly man before her was transformed into a young adventurer.
He told her about his adventures to Asia, vividly describing festivals in which colored powders were thrown in celebration of strange gods. He remarked about his time in the wet jungles of Napam, and his escape from the cannibals of Paru. He even talked about his countless visits to Aria, which left Alice wide-eyed and wonderstruck. She cherished their talks, and in many ways Otis became her friend.
One day she was reminiscing about her own home, and Otis’ eyes lit up.
“Did you say that yer from Port Luka?” he inquired.
“Why, yes I am,” she smiled, “and I’ve never been away from it, until now of course.”
“Well by Neptune, I’m from around there too! I was actually born and raised not a few miles off!”
She had learned that he was originally a cloth merchant in Hispaniola, a business he had inherited from his father. He later moved farther down the continent, following the trade of silk and other materials being imported from Aria. Settling in the small port town of Carage, he met his lovely wife Marie, and shortly thereafter, she gave birth to a beautiful daughter named Casey.
He seemed happy, his body relaxed, reminiscing about his past. Out of curiosity, Alice asked how Otis had become a pirate. His eyes became gloomy, as he strained to continue to speak.
“Everything was going great, until the bloody civil war happened. Brother against brother, children against parents, it was absolute madness.”
He continued, “During war, the only thing people are buying are weapons and tickets the hell out of there. It did my business under, and I had no money to send Marie and the baby away.
“So I goes to the docks one day, blindly drunk, prayin to God to get them outa here, when this fancy-pants man approaches me. Says he can get me gold an silver fast, and the works honest.
“So I leave with em, and the next thing you know I’m on a ship, doin this kind of work. A bit later I return, my pockets full of metal coins, hopin’ and prayin’ that Marie and the baby are alright.
“And they are alright, and the fighting has shimmered down, and I bring the money to Marie and tell her about the great life we can live together. But she aint having it. Says the moneys dirty, says that I’m a criminal, says she never want to see me again.” Tears welled up in his eyes.
“My wife don't love me no more, but I still love her. So what do I do? I leave the money on her step and let her go. No point in staying where you aint wanted.”
He squeezed Alice’s hand tighter, fighting back tears, “You know, I bet little Casey would be yer age right about now,” he looked up sadly, “I hope she grew up to be beautiful an kind just like you.”
Alice held back her own emotions, eyes moist. She held his hand for a long time, until finally, Otis fell asleep.
She had returned to the cabin that day tired and weary. Four of her patients had been discharged with a clean bill of health, and only a few remained in the dark hospital. As per usual, the Captain was nowhere in sight, probably attending to urgent matters. In the couple weeks that she had been on this ship, they barely exchanged two words with each other. She meant to ask him if he had any more reading material, and then scoffed at the idea. He was a pirate, not her own personal librarian. The entire situation was absolutely ridiculous.
Settling on the couch, she kicked off her shoes. There was nothing much else she could do, the only two safe places for her on the ship the cabin and the makeshift hospital in the belly of the ship. Not that she minded much, with three square meals a day and a comfortable place to sleep, it wasn't that different from home, she reasoned.
The days dragged on, and soon her only two patients left were Brutus and Otis. His wounds had almost healed, and although he wasn't a conversationalist, Alice managed to get a few words out of him here and there. Mostly Brutus communicated in grunts though. Soon enough, Alive returned to find him gone, having healed completely. On the contrast, Otis’ condition was get worse.
Sometimes they talked, Alice propping him up on a pillow. Other times she held his hand as he twisted and turned, his fevers having worsened. Sometimes in delirium he would reach out to her, desperately shouting Casey before realizing it wasn’t her, and sinking back into bed.
A couple days later, Alice came back and he was lifeless, his body cold and stiff. She gently covered him with his blanket, and holding his hand for the last time, she put it at his side. Then she called for Nelson, who called for a couple men to take Otis away. Calmly, she returned to the cabin. Everything felt surreal, and her body not her own. She heard voices on the deck. Words. Burial. Dusk. Poor shmuck.
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