Return to the BlackCat

A cry went up from the bow of the launch. Dinni snatched back his hand from where it had been trailing in the water. ‘Ma hand. Ma hand,’ he cried. He held it up. Fingers pruned from sitting in the water, skin turning black from sunburn.

‘Your hand’s fine idiot,’ muttered Graw.

‘I thought. I dreamed a shark bitten it off.’

Graw cuffed him over the ear. ‘Keep your damned fool hand out of the water then.’

The excitement over, the rest of the men lay down into whatever slivers of shade they had been using to cower from the sun. Silence washed back over the small boat, broken only by the ocean’s low swells that breached against the hull. The constant slap of water only drove the agony of scorched throats. Salt rimmed eyes stared at the flat horizon.

Linnaeus crouched at the gunwales, staring at the half-ration of water in his cup. He took a small sip, but the moisture was soaked up immediately into his cracked tongue like water into a dry river bed. His thirst burned unabated.

A fist slammed into his shoulder, jolting the cup out of his hand and spilling the water into the mix of saltwater, piss and shit sloshing around the bottom of the hull.

‘Outtameway,’ snarled Graw as he clambered past.

Linnaeus stared at the dropped cup. Twelve hours until the next ration. Twelve hours in the ovens of Hell. He curled up against the side of the launch and began to tap his head against the planks.

Looking down at the keel, Linnaeus saw the hatch. Of course, he thought, why didn’t I think of that before. He glanced around, the rest of the men were lying like the dead. No one even looking in his direction. Slowly Linnaeus uncurled and crept over to the hatch. He unclasped the latch, lifted it open and slid inside.

His slipped down the ladder into the darkness below. His foot came down onto the soft mud of the floor of the BlackCat. The bar room was empty now, with its tables and chairs all awry as though a crowd of people had just seen a commotion on the street and rushed out to see it. The only person left was Riley, still standing behind the bar polishing a glass. Linnaeus stumbled over to him and took a seat.

‘Gods Riley, am I glad to see you.’

‘Good to see you too, sir. What can I get you?’

‘Beer Riley. For the love of God, a beer.’

‘Very good, sir.’

Riley pushed a tall frosted glass of ale across the bar. Linnaeus snatched it up and drained it off. He slammed it back down on the counter.

‘Another, Riley.’

‘Of course, sir.’

Linnaeus lay his head down on the cool copper plating of the bartop. Outside, a fish swam by the window.

Linnaeus' reverie was interrupted by a dull thud from above, followed by gradual steps of a person climbing down a ladder. His ladder. Linnaeus sat up and turned around. In the dim light of the bar he saw Graw standing in the BlackCat.

‘Well, well now,’ smiled Graw. ‘So this is where you’ve been hiding you little snotnose.’

‘How did you get in here?’ asked Linnaeus. ‘No one else can come here.’

‘I’ve been watching you I have,’ said Graw. ‘Here barman, gimme a drink. Dry as a bull’s bum going up a hill backwards I am.’

‘Of course, sir,’ said Riley.

Graw eyed Linnaeus over the top of the glass as he drank his beer. He finished it and set the glass down on the countertop.

‘OK you little shit, let’s get some rules straight. From now on, you never come here without me.’

‘But.’

‘Shut it. And you’re to bring Thommo and Ballast down here as well.’

Linnaeus looked at Riley whose brows furrowed slightly. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ said Linnaeus.

‘You don’t have any more ideas, alright? You do what I tells you to do.’

‘But, Graw.’

‘Mister Graw.’

‘Mister Graw,’ Linnaeus swallowed. ‘More people can be dangerous. This place is unstable.’

‘I said shut it. Now, I’m going to have a nap. Don’t leave until I say so.’ Graw plodded over to a couch on the side of the room and lay down. Linnaeus sat at the bar.

‘I’m not sure your friends will be up to the standards of Management, Mr Linnaeus,’ said Riley. ‘We have a policy about membership you know.’

‘I know, Riley. I know.’

Linnaeus sat watching Graw as he slept. It was with a mixture of relief and dread when he finally woke up.

‘Gods noodlelegs. My head’s spinning.’

‘I told you, this place isn’t quite right. We can’t stay here too long.’

‘Alright then, back up the hatch.’ Graw stumbled over to the ladder.

‘You first Mr Graw,’ said Linnaeus.

‘No, sir,’ sneered Graw. ‘After you. I insist.’

Linnaeus took hold of the ladder and began to climb back up. Back up to the light, the heat, the sun, the agony.

A cry went up from the bow of the launch. Dinni was yelling, holding up a bloody stump. A shark had bitten off his hand.