Nightwatch
by
Patricia Wright
The darkness was both seamless and absolute. Blackness shrouded everything and merged the ship and sea into a single, silent
mass. Seeping out of the clouds, silvery moonlight touched the lone seaman and illuminated him in eerie half—light. As the sea licked
the hull in a soft, lazy rhythm, the dolphin's fin sliced through the surface of the water in a cool slush of notion, then sank silently once
again
The darkened ship swayed gently back and forth, erasing tensions and lulling thought. He moved forward slowly and slid his hand onto
the smooth, rough wood of the ship's wheel caressing clasp. The seaman standing there glanced at him in soft curiosity and relented
the wheel silently. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled at the wooden spokes. There was a tug of resistance, but in the blackness his hand
and wheel slowly moved as one. The shaft sighed deeply, rolled over in an age-old obedient gesture and the rudder, merged in the
blackened depths of the water, creaked sideways.
He watched as the ship's shadow rose, caught the moonlight in brilliance, turned and sank lower into the bosom of the sea. He stared
for a long moment as the ship pressed forward in the new direction. Then, slowly, he pulled the wheel back up and around again. The
ship rose from the blackness, shone in moonlight again as she turned back, then sank into blackness again. The giant pushed forward
on its original course.
He returned the wheel to the seaman in silence. The descent of the gangway went slow as he sank to every step, his eyes rising as the
moonlight licked the rigging. He moved forward on the main deck with quiet, thoughtful steps. Pausing, he reached out and touched the
main mast, his eyes lifting higher and higher to the swollen sails. The light wind pulled at them, lifting and dropping them gently so the
moonlight splattered them with whitewash every few seconds.
His arm drew around the mast and he pulled against it, staring up as the very life that was the ship filled him. The rigging lifted and
settled, the sails filled and emptied, the ship rose and fell, the waves lapped gently at the ship's hull, and his very essence joined in the
rhythm with his heart beat bounding within him.
He moved away wistfully, watching as his black shoes touched the silver glaze on the deck. He pulled himself up to the rail, let his hands
entwine around the ancient wood, and stared out.
The silken blackness of the sea shimmered in eerie silence; moonlight giving it a creamy frosting. It licked softly, gently, at the hull as
the ship rose and fell in a gentle, steady rhythm. His whole body drew up slowly: his mind, his body and his soul arching backward and
upward.
He froze there eternally as the field of brilliant stars glimmered in his eyes. They shone and sparkled and spun within the blackness.
The darkness was seamless and absolute. The moonlight illuminated the lone officer standing at the rail: glinting off the golden sextant
in his hand. The sea licked the hull in a soft, lazy rhythm. The dolphin’s fin sliced through the surface of the water in a cool slush of
motion, then sank to silence once again.
And he stood and stared up at the stars.