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swiftly, side stepping out of harm’s way. ‘Is that the best you can do, you drunk?’
Although badly shaken, this time Shaun was ready when Arnold snarled and made another lunge.
Shaun threw down a chair in front of the slow moving man, and then watched Arnold stumble, but somehow manage to grab hold of the table edge and steady himself. Shaun likened him to a mad bull who was about to make another charge. Crashing into the side of a chair, he knocked it over and, off balance, he fell heavily.
Lying on his back with the blood draining quickly from his face, Arnold screamed out in pain. ‘For God’s sake help me.’
Shaun kicked away the broken bottle from his stepfather’s hand.
‘Don’t be such a fool, Arnold, get up.’
Although he tried to answer, there was no sound. Shaun could see the pool of blood, quickly spreading out on the floor. He could see that Arnold had fallen on the bottom half of the broken bottle and impaled himself. A long sharp shard of glass was embedded in the man’s kidney region.
Shaun stood over his still conscious stepfather and realised he was bleeding to death.
‘You’re a drunken slob, Arnold. I can’t help you. In spite of you, I’m going to Africa and you’re going to hell, you miserable excuse for a man.’
Eventually, when he could no longer feel a pulse, Shaun walked away from his mother’s house for the last time. Stopping at the end of the street, he glanced back, saddened that his mother would not be joining him in Africa. With the death of Arnold, there was no hate and no remorse, rather, an empty feeling.
Shaun made it back to ‘The Alistair’ with little time to spare before the inaugural ships company meeting. When it was over, he went below to the galley for a meeting with the head chef and his staff. Although it was an early start for him in the morning on the breakfast shift, he decided not to head for his bunk.
Up on the main deck was like being in another world for Shaun. Near the ship’s bow, he got caught up with the ebb and flow of the night activity.
The last of the cargo was being lowered and stashed in the forward hold. Frantically, seamen were running around under overhead lights, attending to last minute details prior to departure. Nearing midnight, Shaun hurried along the starboard side of the ship, on his way to the stern.
Grasping the rear rail with both hands, Shaun watched both fore and aft lines cleared. He felt the throb of the steam engines vibrating under foot. Two small tugboats manoeuvred the steel giant toward the middle of the Liffey. The huge twin props started spinning, creating a turbulent mass of underwater fluorescent bubbles behind the ship, driving her forward.
‘The Alistair’ soon cleared the harbour, out into Dublin Bay. While the ship steamed out into the Irish Sea, Shaun stayed rooted to his spot at the stern, watching the lights of Dublin, and the bad memories of the past, disappear into the distance. Excitement started building as he readied himself for his African Adventure.
Shaun was not aware a merchant seaman had joined him at the rail. ‘Great, isn’t it?’ he spoke loudly, almost yelling to be heard above the throb of the engines and the noise of the wind. ‘Is this your first time at sea?’
‘I joined the ship’s company yesterday,’ Shaun answered loudly, ‘and yes, it’s my first time on a ship.’
‘Not to worry, you’ll soon find your sea legs.’
‘I guess so,’ Shaun said with a smile of anticipation. He turned to face the man. ‘However, I can’t wait until she docks in Cape Town.’
Even in the poor light, Shaun could see the merchant sailor give him a strange look.
‘Didn’t they tell you when you signed on young man, we’re not doing the African run anymore - this cargo is headed for South America.’


-The End-


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Publication Date: 02-23-2010

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