Sea Sick (Short Story)

As he looked over the edge of the boat Sam could see the waves breaking against the hull. A few miles back some dolphins had swam alongside and all Sam could think was how he wished he could dive into the water and swim away from this place. It was nearly sunset and Sam was needed in the kitchen to start preparing dinner for the crew.

Sam hated small spaces and it didn't help that it was hot down there and filled with eight other kitchen staff. "Fuck it" Sam said to himself as he pushed off the railing and walked back toward the kitchen. He passed by the Captain and nodded. They never really exchanged words but Sam was fairly certain that the Captain hated him.

The Captain loved this ship and the sea and he loved anyone who shared his opinion on those two things. Sam did not love this ship. He didn't care for its name, or the way it rocked as the ocean constantly moved underneath, he didn't like the stink of the fish, or the stuffy cabin he had to share with five other sailors. He didn't like that no one respected him. The only thing Sam had was the promise that in just a few days he'd be disembarking at the port of Durrës and from there he could leave and never have to see any of these people or this ship ever again.

He headed down the narrow staircase leading into the belly of the ship. He took off his heavy coat and hung it on a peg that had "Sam's Hook" written on a piece of paper and taped above it. He put on his whites and headed into the kitchen.

Tonight's dinner was to be seared tuna and steamed veggies. Again. They had hauled in more tuna than they needed to meet their quota and have been eating that for the past month.

Sam was on auto-pilot in the kitchen which was nice because didn't need to pay careful attention to what he was doing. After cooking his 300th tuna steak Sam's mind just sort of, switched off.

Sam was sitting on beach next to a beautiful woman in a grass skirt wearing a crown. He leaned back into the soft leather chair while he drank some exquisite fruity drink with a tiny umbrella. "Ahhh, this is the life isn't it?" He said as the sun began to set. Suddenly Sam's arm began to tingle. He figured it was just a sunburn. Sam could be absent-minded and probably just forgot to apply sunscreen. He was just about to order another drink from a nearby waiter in a speedo when he cried out, "FIRE!"

Back in the kitchen Sam's sleeve had been a little too close to the stove top. Turns out that even after cooking hundreds of tuna steads it's a good idea to keep your attention on the task at hand.

"FIRE!" Sam yelled in the ear of the chef standing next to him. After some heated (ha!) scrambling a fire extinguisher was located and Sam's arm was put out before too much damage was done.

The Captain came down to the kitchen to see what all the yelling and commotion was about only to see Sam standing there with a burnt sleeve and a dumb smile, and the evening's allotment of tuna steak covered in sodium bicarbonate and several pissed off looking chefs.

Sam was escorted by the Captain to the medical bay which was really just an old storage closet that Smokin' Joe sat in reading nudie mags and occasionally he would hand someone some bandaids and a bottle of rubbing alcohol and say, "Have at it!" before returning to the important business of smoking and porn.

The Captain threw open the door to the storage closet and cleared his throat. Smokin' Joe let out a whistle when he looked up and saw Sam's burnt sleeve.

"Not sure there's much we can do for that, I'm afraid." Smokin' Joe said in the time it took for him to go back to reading his mag.

The Captain dragged Sam into the closet by his good arm and began digging through the shelves looking for something. He found a 1/2 empty bottle of Vaseline and an opened package of gauze. He shoved them into Sam's chest.

"Take these and don't let me see your pathetic land-loving face again before we anchor." The Captain snarled before storming off.

Sam found himself standing in the tiny closet alone with Smokin' Joe.

"Close the door on your way out." Said the voice originating behind the tattered old nudie mag.

Sam returned to his cabin and found his jacket and name-tag on his bed. He carefully removed his chef's jacket and his undershirt. Sam didn't have too much experience with burns but he didn't think his arm really looked all that bad. The Vaseline felt cool on the bright pink patch that covered his right arm. After Sam slathered on a good amount he wrapped it up with gauze. There wasn't enough material to completely cover his arm but after all the excitement of the day he was tired and didn't really care.

Three days went by, Sam stayed in his bed the whole time as the Captain had had Sam sequestered to his cabin for the remainder of their time at sea. Sam looked out the port hole and saw they were nearing Durrës. He began packing his things and made his way top-side.

Upon leaving the ship he couldn't help but think that maybe he would miss it. Maybe someday he'd look back and wish he'd worked harder or spent more time getting to know his cabin mates. Maybe. Right now Sam was happy to have his feet on solid ground again. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The sounds of people bustling around him was calming. He turned to look back and wave a final goodbye to the Espinoza before disappearing into the crowd.