The Seven Day Companion (667 hits)
Category: RomanceRating: 1.83 on 9 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Day Star (View user info) at 2005-10-17 17:31:54 EDT
A while and a time ago, in the ocean waters south of Europe there was a lone lifeboat tossed amongst the waves. The boat carried the only survivor of a devastating naval attack, a sailor by passion who, by luck, became an officer in the current war.
Fortunately, his situation was not strictly dire. The lifeboat was meant for dozens of occupants, so there were plenty of rations, a filtration device for water, and the sailor had smuggled an armful of books out of the maelstrom. He was afloat, with no means to propel himself toward civilization, but gladly had food to eat, water to drink and the mental stimulation to keep him occupied. In moments of private desolation the sailor would pray to his particular god that he may have a companion, if only for a day, so that he would not be so terrible alone. The man missed conversation and the sharing of ideas, camaraderie and the humanity that came from company, and would have happily shared half his abundance of rations with another sentient being .The ocean, limitless on all sides, made his isolation too complete, and his desire for accompaniment grew with each passing day.
Until the evening some time later, when the sailor saw a flickering dot of light on the horizon. Being in a time of war the man was able to deduce that the form of illumination was probably an explosion, perhaps much like his own. Hours later, as current drew him closer to the wreckage, bits of charred wood and debris floated by, but no people. No survivors.
Except a small form huddled half-dead, clinging to the some indistinguishable remains of the ship. With tender difficulty the sailor lifted the person, a girl, into his lifeboat and took stock of the situation: She was young, younger than him by half a decade, perhaps sixteen or so and pale of face as she lay barely breathing on the floor of his boat. Upon examination the man found where shrapnel from the explosion had punctured her stomach. The twisted metal debris had entered her stomach from the left side, causing a large gash; and though he couldn't tell how far it penetrated her internally he knew that attempting to wrench it from her body could, and probably would, be fatal.
It took days to revive the young lady, feeding her small amounts of bread dipped in fresh water. But the reward was a bright, young individual, and a survivor like himself. As the girl came to, her awareness of the foreign matter invading her body appalled her senses and she beseeched the sailor to remove it from her flesh. The man tried to explain that removal would almost certainly mean death, but to no avail as the girl pleaded and begged that he not leave her as a monstrosity. They finally came to an agreement that the girl would stay with the sailor for seven days, to talk with him and think about her decision, and if after the allotted time she still wanted the shrapnel removed he would oblige her.
On the first day they kept their conversation light; they spoke of popular music at the time, as much as he knew from before the sailor was cast afloat, and fashion which the girl had a thriving passion as well as any other fancies that took them.
On the second day they grew to know each other more as they spoke about their childhoods and their lives thus far. She learned that the man's father had been a sailor, and that he had three sisters. He learned that the girl could play piano and dreamed of traveling to Italy.
On the third day they spoke of more intellectual matters, classic literature that they both enjoyed, the great minds of their time and the politics of the war. She and he learned that they shared similar political views and grew to respect each other in a way they would not have without political discourse.
On the fourth day they spoke about love. The young lady spoke well of a man she loved, her fiancé, who had been with her and her parents on the ship. She smiled, told stories, and the sailor found himself falling in love with this youthful girl. No, not madly in love, or deeply for that matter, but the love of being the only two people in existence and a love borne of sorrow.
On the fifth day they addressed the idea of god, each speaking of their own ideas, of each specific form of god that they believed in. The sailor and the girl smiled with the comparisons in their faiths, and mused over the differences. There was strange comfort in sharing their faith, and on the fifth evening they prayed.
On the sixth day they ran out of things to say. All the topics of discussion dried up, and it seemed that they had spoken on everything they could and exhausted their conversation. So they lapsed into a comfortable silence, listening only to the wash of waves against the side of the lifeboat.
And on the seventh day the she asked the sailor to remove the harsh fragment of metal. Being an honest man he prepared to make good on his promise. The man gave her a shot of whiskey and a bullet to bite before he took hold of the piece of shrapnel. It was with an unpleasant sound of tearing flesh that he pulled it from her stomach, her pain as naked as her relief upon her face. The invading entity ended up being the size of his outstretched hand, and shaped cruelly like a scythe-blade; he quickly tossed it over the side of the lifeboat, losing the metal to the waves.
The death of her family, of her fiancé, of the hundreds of people on her ship and her own imminent passing came crashing down upon the girl with the removal of the shrapnel, the clarity was both bitter and striking and her eyes grew large with pain and fright. Her hands grasped at the back of the saiolor neck, pulling him down into a hard kiss. Their teeth clicked and she fiercely kissed him with strength the sailor had not known she could possess. Slowly, she released him. He closed her eyes.
A short time later the sailor committed her to the ocean. He lowered the girl into the waves, watching without emotion as she sank until there was nothing left to see. The man then went to store of rations and drank slowly a dram of whiskey. The sailor's heart was not heavy with sadness, as his prayer had been answered; to have a companion, even for a day.
User Reviews
Submitted by Faithless_Whisper (user info) at 2005-10-18 09:31:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by ruthless (user info) at 2005-10-17 18:26:22 (#)
Ranking: 2
I almost don't like the sailor at the end.
Is that the intent?
I wanted a somewhat neutral feeling at the end for the sailor. I didn't want to end like some soggy-tragic love story. But also, deadedning his emotions could also be the man's defense against the terrible situation he's in.
Submitted by simple_catalyst (user info) at 2005-10-17 21:47:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
fucking solid.
Submitted by Kindred (user info) at 2005-10-17 19:55:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Just to clarify:
Going by the title, I thought this was going to be a menstration story and so was a little wary clicking in the first place.
That is all.
Thank you.
Good day....
..... I SAID GOOD - DAY !
Submitted by Kindred (user info) at 2005-10-17 19:35:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
I agree with LadyPlural. It's very good, but there seems to be something missing, just not sure at all what it is.
Submitted by ruthless (user info) at 2005-10-17 18:56:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Seems to me that the sailor is incredibly selfish, only caring that his wish was fulfilled and not about the girl at all.
To me, that is a metaphor for almost all of human existance, unfortunately.
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-10-17 18:50:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm not terribly sure what to think. Is this an allegory that I'm missing the point to, or is it just a slightly random bit of writing?
I mean, it's good either way, but I'm confused.
Submitted by Nobb (user info) at 2005-10-17 18:31:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by ruthless (user info) at 2005-10-17 18:26:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I almost don't like the sailor at the end.
Is that the intent?
Submitted by userpete86 (user info) at 2005-10-17 18:12:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No comment.