Bulwark
Ethan Wood
I was born and raised on a ship. I never knew my parents, Uncle Clyde always told me that I didn’t have any, that I was born from a splinter that fell off the mast. I think he just told me that so he could threaten to reattach me to the mast if I misbehaved. I don’t see Uncle Clyde as often these days: he’s always cooped up in the captain’s quarters, crouched over a map of the ocean; drawing lines that begin and end with no logic or reason.
When we were younger, Uncle Clyde would let my brother Dirk and I play below deck, but he never let us go too far down. “Don’t let me catch ya deeper than floor fifteen, er the both of ya’ll be in for a beatin,” he used to say, with his callous voice that was as pleasant as his old rubber boots sliding across the deck. Because we were scared of Clyde, or maybe because we actually put some stock in his words, Dirk and I would always count the floors as we went down to make sure that we never went past fifteen.
The first floor down was a long hallway with glass displays of old sailor’s uniforms lining the walls. Some were faded, with grey ribbons and torn shirts, but some looked pristine with vivid red caps and shiny brown shoes. I still remember what Dirk told me, “you have to wonder where the hell Uncle Clyde got all these uniforms anyways. Think about it, have you ever seen anyone besides us on this ship? Who the hell wore these?”
The further down we went, the more bizarre the ship became. The fifth floor had grass growing from the wooden floor and a huge pond that stretched out into the distance. Dirk and I would swim when there was nothing better to do, but after a while the strong smell of algae would send us out of the pond to somewhere more pleasant.
The fifteenth floor was just a small square room with a door that led down deeper into the ship. The door was locked tight most days. When Dirk and I got older we would go down and try to force the door open, to see what Uncle Clyde didn’t want us to see. Most of the time the door didn’t even budge, like it was stuck in place by some unimaginable barricade.
One day, after Dirk and I were done swinging from the large trees on the sixth floor, we went down to the fifteenth floor to find it wide open, it’s open hinges inviting us down into the depths. All those years of wondering what was beyond that door weighed down on us, and we both passed through the doorway without any hesitation or care for Clyde’s words.
As soon as we passed through the door and descended the stairs, Dirk and I were forced to continue on our hands and knees. The sixteenth floor was a small tunnel with a glass floor that gave us a view of the gaping chasm below us. We crawled for hours, silently staring through the glass, occasionally catching a glint of white somewhere in the void.
Eventually we reached a metal grate at the end of the tunnel, Dirk kicked it out and we were met with the familiar wooden interior of the ship, with another staircase going down. We descended floor after floor, finding ourselves met with winding caves and sprawling fields.
Around floor seventy five we came across a beautiful garden with vines covering the walls and various flowers sprouting up out of the wood. In the middle of the garden, like a scarecrow guarding corn, was a little old lady in a rocking chair.
“What can I do for you two?” She said with a quaint smile in our direction.
“You’re alive?” Dirk responded with shock in his voice.
“Of course I am, Deary, if I die then who will look after these beautiful children?” The old lady gestured to the flowers around her as she said this.
“I’m not sure what you mean by that, Ma’am,” replied Dirk.
“Well I suppose they are just plants to you, but they were once people long ago.”
“Who are you?” Dirk was beginning to become frightened, and it showed in his voice.
“I’m your Aunt, Deary, I’m married to your Uncle John, or whatever name he’s decided to go by these days. He’s probably warned you not to come down here, but here you are, anyways.” She gave a sympathetic smile when she said that last part.
Dirk turned to me, “ I think she’s talking about Clyde.”
“Ah, so he goes by Clyde now, what a funny name,” the old lady said with a nostalgic look on her face. “Anyways, you’re too deep below the deck, I can only bring one of you back up, the other one will have to stay with me in my garden.”
“What are you talking about,” said Clyde, “we can just go back up the way we came.”
“I’m afraid not dear, the ship is constantly shifting around down here; if you go back up now, you’ll be lost in minutes,” replied the old lady, again with a sympathetic smile. “Like I said, I can send one of you back up to the deck, you’ll have to decide which one stays.”
Before I could say anything, Dirk stepped forward, “I’ll stay”
“I guess it’s settled then,” said the old lady, clasping her hands together. “Tell your Uncle I said, Hi Dear.” The old lady clapped once, and all of a sudden the garden disappeared, and I was back up on the second floor, with the various uniforms on display around me. Uncle Clyde was on my right, staring at one of the uniforms with his hands behind his back. He saw me and motioned me over. He pointed to the uniform in front of him with a solemn look on his face. “You went down there didn’t you,” said Uncle Clyde. I looked at the uniform that Clyde was pointing at, and there they were: Dirk’s clothes on display.
Text goes here.
When we were younger, Uncle Clyde would let my brother Dirk and I play below deck, but he never let us go too far down. “Don’t let me catch ya deeper than floor fifteen, er the both of ya’ll be in for a beatin,” he used to say, with his callous voice that was as pleasant as his old rubber boots sliding across the deck. Because we were scared of Clyde, or maybe because we actually put some stock in his words, Dirk and I would always count the floors as we went down to make sure that we never went past fifteen.
The first floor down was a long hallway with glass displays of old sailor’s uniforms lining the walls. Some were faded, with grey ribbons and torn shirts, but some looked pristine with vivid red caps and shiny brown shoes. I still remember what Dirk told me, “you have to wonder where the hell Uncle Clyde got all these uniforms anyways. Think about it, have you ever seen anyone besides us on this ship? Who the hell wore these?”
The further down we went, the more bizarre the ship became. The fifth floor had grass growing from the wooden floor and a huge pond that stretched out into the distance. Dirk and I would swim when there was nothing better to do, but after a while the strong smell of algae would send us out of the pond to somewhere more pleasant.
The fifteenth floor was just a small square room with a door that led down deeper into the ship. The door was locked tight most days. When Dirk and I got older we would go down and try to force the door open, to see what Uncle Clyde didn’t want us to see. Most of the time the door didn’t even budge, like it was stuck in place by some unimaginable barricade.
One day, after Dirk and I were done swinging from the large trees on the sixth floor, we went down to the fifteenth floor to find it wide open, it’s open hinges inviting us down into the depths. All those years of wondering what was beyond that door weighed down on us, and we both passed through the doorway without any hesitation or care for Clyde’s words.
As soon as we passed through the door and descended the stairs, Dirk and I were forced to continue on our hands and knees. The sixteenth floor was a small tunnel with a glass floor that gave us a view of the gaping chasm below us. We crawled for hours, silently staring through the glass, occasionally catching a glint of white somewhere in the void.
Eventually we reached a metal grate at the end of the tunnel, Dirk kicked it out and we were met with the familiar wooden interior of the ship, with another staircase going down. We descended floor after floor, finding ourselves met with winding caves and sprawling fields.
Around floor seventy five we came across a beautiful garden with vines covering the walls and various flowers sprouting up out of the wood. In the middle of the garden, like a scarecrow guarding corn, was a little old lady in a rocking chair.
“What can I do for you two?” She said with a quaint smile in our direction.
“You’re alive?” Dirk responded with shock in his voice.
“Of course I am, Deary, if I die then who will look after these beautiful children?” The old lady gestured to the flowers around her as she said this.
“I’m not sure what you mean by that, Ma’am,” replied Dirk.
“Well I suppose they are just plants to you, but they were once people long ago.”
“Who are you?” Dirk was beginning to become frightened, and it showed in his voice.
“I’m your Aunt, Deary, I’m married to your Uncle John, or whatever name he’s decided to go by these days. He’s probably warned you not to come down here, but here you are, anyways.” She gave a sympathetic smile when she said that last part.
Dirk turned to me, “ I think she’s talking about Clyde.”
“Ah, so he goes by Clyde now, what a funny name,” the old lady said with a nostalgic look on her face. “Anyways, you’re too deep below the deck, I can only bring one of you back up, the other one will have to stay with me in my garden.”
“What are you talking about,” said Clyde, “we can just go back up the way we came.”
“I’m afraid not dear, the ship is constantly shifting around down here; if you go back up now, you’ll be lost in minutes,” replied the old lady, again with a sympathetic smile. “Like I said, I can send one of you back up to the deck, you’ll have to decide which one stays.”
Before I could say anything, Dirk stepped forward, “I’ll stay”
“I guess it’s settled then,” said the old lady, clasping her hands together. “Tell your Uncle I said, Hi Dear.” The old lady clapped once, and all of a sudden the garden disappeared, and I was back up on the second floor, with the various uniforms on display around me. Uncle Clyde was on my right, staring at one of the uniforms with his hands behind his back. He saw me and motioned me over. He pointed to the uniform in front of him with a solemn look on his face. “You went down there didn’t you,” said Uncle Clyde. I looked at the uniform that Clyde was pointing at, and there they were: Dirk’s clothes on display.
Text goes here.
Ethan Wood wrote this story.