The sea was angry that day. I stood on the bow of my ship, the “Moist Wettener” as I stroked my greying beard. It had been about 4 days on the water. Three shipmates I hired as hands for what I felt would be the biggest crab pull this season. Hell, any season since Cpt. Mark Stedmoore hauled in what was known as the “ large amount of crab” in 1984. Mark was a good man. Died of the AIDS in ’92. They claimed it was a homo disease at the time. Mark was no homo. On land.
I looked back over the dipshits I had hired. God, I needed to stop being so cheap. These were just kids. The only one I trusted on the boat besides myself was my hound, Jessup. He was a good dog. He had seen his shares of hard times. Hard times indeed. My mind drifted back to Helen. My gorgeous Helen. Well, I don’t think any man in his right mind would call her gorgeous but she was a good woman. A big woman, but a good woman. Died during child birth. She had slipped on the placenta of some dumb broad shitting out a kid. New life they said. I lost her, my true love, the next day when she had an allergic reaction to the medicine they gave her to calm her swollen ankle.
“That’s what she gets for being fat” Said the doc. I stared at him coldly. “Oh…too soon?” I reared back and slapped him across his silky smooth rich boy cheek. With no beard to soften the blow the skin split and he screamed like a little girl.
“My wife is dead asshole. Go back to trying to cure that homo disease Stedmoore has” If only I knew then…
Jessup nudged my hand and whined. Brought me back to reality. I could taste the sea spray on my lips. She was a good ship and had seen her fair share of weather but nothing like this. It was going to get worse before it got better. To their credit the boys were doing their best. Why wouldn’t they? Two of them had new families. Mouths to feed. I just had Jessup and myself. A man. His dog.
The safe thing to do was to head in. The right thing to tell the boys to get down below but pride had me that day. One of them, I think Doug was his name approached me.
“Captain, this is no good. We need to turn back. This storm looks bad. Just to be on the safe side I’m going to…” That’s all he got out before my fist hit him square in his dick. I felt it shrivel beneath my knuckles. Not that much was there in the first place. He collapsed to the deck in pain. Jessup immediately mounted him and began thrusting to assert his dominance. Doug lay there helpless. Moaning in pain while being vigorously humped by a slobbering hound. I leaned down close.
“Fuck. You.” I said through clenched teeth. My beard brushed his smooth check also asserting dominance. “I came to fish. I came to catch some Goddamn crab. I came to put some money in my hand. And Jessup just came. Get your hands off your baby dick and get to your feet. Time to catch crabs like your sister.” He didn’t know it but I had fucked the snot out of his kid sister. Gave her $15 bucks, crabs, and whatever else I had going on down there. Who gives a shit.
-Cpt. James Brockton
Jan. 1997