New Homeport Island (27 page)

passed it began to feel routine already. I expected couples to
 start forming but it seems the women were smarter than that. I
 would have to tend to their shaving until they caught the knack
 and we all served as bed warmers. As our hunger was satiated,
 we became bland and lacking any vision of escape and dwelled,
 now even within our dreams, on the island. Tammy’s ass
 exposed as she urinated in the sand in the moonlight, Michelle
 scrubbing her toe nails with sand, Jennifer scratching at her
 crotch, Tommi trying to keep her hair from knotting, and Athena
 dealing with her cleavage were my distraction and it came to
 seem as though their distractions were intentional and was
 making sure no one guy leaned toward any one girl too much.  
Eric Milson over at the landing had gathered twigs and
 brush and was doing his best weaving, occasionally glancing up
 at the trees his tree house would span across. Atrisia sat in her
 panties in the wet sand cooling her feet watching him in
 astonishment. Artimus stood staring at her and the look on her
 face wondering if she was going to sprout a fish’s tail and swim
 away as the mermaid that lead the ship to its doom. But staring
 at her panties was much like staring at a pot waiting for water to
 boil it just seems nothing’s going on there at all.  
At the boiler Joseph Leos had just dropped off more wood
 for the boiler fires and flex for the cheering girls, he noticed
Tommi actually blushed and Tammy didn’t seem interested at
 all. Megan was speaking to mike about the animal prints in the
 soil, mike came off as a little bit on the red neck side and she
 assumed he would know how to hunt, he seemed to take this as a
 matter of him being a man and would certainly know how to
 hunt but knew very little about tracking, hunting, or cleaning a
 kill.

I was going to refine our boat and had been working on
 burning logs to split them and sand them to form instead it was
 another boat entirely, not as ambitious as it would need to be to
 hold the necessary previsions for a transpacific sail back to the
 continent which it seemed would have to have been south
America then to somewhere civilized enough that there would
 be phones and A.T.M.s as well as airports but honestly the
 insecurity we were suffering conjured fantasies of sailing up the
 coastline to California, rather than offloading in south America
 and waiting for pick up or just taking a commercial airline back
 home.  
Aritmus had finally achieved some modicum of order he
 had his ‘in crowd’ that  he believed would stick with him
 regardless of what developed, in retrospect I believe his concern
 of cannibalism was driven by sleep deprivation, dehydration, or
 perhaps malnutrition. He was significantly older than the rest of
 the crew he and the master chief were both more than forty years
 old and the week on the water may have brought them closer to
 being a dying animal then the rest of us, for me it was like a
 week of hard sleep with a sever flu.  
Artimus had patrols formed which circled the landing site
 and went just past the ridge establishing a ‘comfort zone for the
 troops’. We, at the boiler site had left even before the chaos had
 set in and a few more had joined us once their groups had
 ostracized them had been labeled ‘the natives’. He warned the
 rest that leaving camp without permission would constitute
 desertion and any fraternization with the natives would
 constitute insurrection. Artimus tried to emulate a southern
Baptist preacher he had seen on television as he spoke to the
 crew, “This is going to be our home for a week or two and this is
 where we are safe.” He paused and smiled. He turned and

looked to his left and speaking with hand gestures intended to
 objectify his speech there by distancing himself and his audience
 from the realities of which he spoke, “I will not have anyone
 endangering our safe heaven, we have worked too hard to
 survive to this point and to maintain any promise of surviving
 longer.” Artimus actually strut his way over to the vases which
 still contained some water and continued, “So long as the
 natives still bring us tribute or water and fish we will not
 encroach upon their land. They seem happy in their way of life
 and we will leave them to it.”  Artimus looked down at the sand
 beneath his feet and kicked up a handful of sand as he said, “We
 need to establish our buying power, to show them we do have
 some influence in what it is we get, their tributes are certainly
 enough to keep us alive but we may want some extra. So I need
 to take a collection of money from you. You will be
 compensated or reimbursed upon our rescue.” and with that the
 king headed into his castle.
As Artimus headed into the pentagon Smity looked around
 and stepped forward as though he were the next to speak,
Clarkson seeing this shook her head and headed over to where
Smity was standing but as he begun to dig in his pockets and
 pulled out his wallet she paused and observed the rest of the
 survivors doing the same. Clarkson pulled out her money as well
 and started to take up a collection, Smity handed her some, three
 dollars and forty five cents with that same absurd smile on his
 face.
As the collection of money was occurring throughout the
 landing there was a vibe in the air, everyone had a sense that
 things were going from bad to worse. There had been no
 consideration of money in anything anyone had done. The
Captain had been over heard in the pentagon using the word

‘monopoly’ and now suspicions were high as to what game
 would be played upon them next.
The former crew were in small camps as outsiders to the
 pentagon, there were the small camps circling the pentagon
 composed of people seeking a place in the former captains new
 social order, and out upon the beach stood those that rejected
 everything about these goings on. Those hold outs stared at the
 ocean horizon until they got dizzy from vertigo and fell over.
Hudlow thought he might find and be able to eat sand crabs but
 all he found was a sand spider that in his delirium became his
 pet he called ‘snack’.
Snack the sand spider was actually several sand spiders.
Whichever sand spider was crawling on James Hudlow at the
 time was surely his pet ‘snack’. James marveled at how quickly
 snack could move, James would see snack on his right hand then
 looking left ‘snack’ was on his left foot and with a cough
‘snack’ was suddenly in James beard. James knew ‘snack’ had a
 family, a home, and a job…well a spider job and home in any
 case and it made James home sick. James would talk to ‘snack’
 about his home and wife and together they would share the
 stories of home life and life on the beaches and seas.
Jane Spayner watched James talking to himself with spiders
 running all over him as though it were a television show. She
 found James to be something of a young Jackie Gleason. She
 had especially liked the episode where James and ‘Snack’ were
 going to make a boat out of sea weed, James couldn’t believe it
 were possible but ‘snack’ had done it before, after all how else
 would ‘snack’ and his family have made it to the island from
 new York? Clarkson whispered to Spayner, “I wonder home
 long it’ll be before he hurts himself?” Jane replied, “I just think
 it’s funny when he begs snack to get out of his ass and digs

between his butt cheeks with a handful of sand.” James standing
 of in the distance near the crashing surf said, “Ohh snack, the
 girls are having a giggle fest again.”
Eric was gathering more twigs for his tree house, Hudlow
 and the others wondering the beach thought he’d decide to
 become a bird and build a nest before he flew away. Eric’s bird
 house was well underway but it looked as though it would never
 support a human’s weight.
Artimus in the pentagon was speaking with Swishzel and
Wildly. In something of a hush the three were leaned in and
Artimus said, “Once the money is collected I will buy extra food
 from the natives. We need to maintain leverage to stay in
 control, any cases of desertion must be dealt with swiftly and
 very publicly.” Swishzel asked, “Aren’t those natives just some
 of our crew?” Artimus replied, “They went native…the
 absolutely went native and somehow developed an
 understanding of the island. Mormus and I scouted for water and
 searched for food and there was absolutely none…and yet the
 rations keep coming. As far as we are concerned they are natives
 until the day we are rescued. I may have to talk big with this
 crew, but I want you to remain respectful of them as natives and
 if necessary I will glance at you as a signal for you to publicly
 correct me about the personal attacks I am making on them. We
 have to present correctly.” Robert Wildy sat astonished. This
 explained a lot he had seen on the ship, ‘presenting correctly’
 was apparently a code for ‘fuck them in the ass and take their
 wallet’. Wildly’s stomach churned and growled, Artimus
 glanced at him starring him in the eye with something of a
 monstrous demeanor then point at him and said, “I agree with
 you completely.” Wildly commented much later that it hadn’t
 occurred to him what the captain had meant by that at the time

but it seemed as though Artimus had made an assumption about
 what was running through Robert’s mind and just went with it,
Robert had decided long after these events it was just Dave
Artimus’s way. Presumption didn’t always rule the day under
Captain Artimus, it was usually a general confusion that set the
 mood and tone.
Smity walked up to the pentagon entrance with the last of
 the collection and said, “I have the money sir.” Artimus replied,
“Give it to my cabin boy.” and pointed at Wildly. Wildly looked
 back in the captains direction in disgust and dismay. Smity said,
“Cabin boy huh? I sure that’s a great honor. Here’s the money
 cabin boy.” Wildly walked up to Smity to take the money and
 whispered, “Fuck you” Smity whisper back, “I say it’s a great
 honor because I remember the first few days of boot camp, any
 title, no matter how bullshit it seems later becomes authority.
And it sounds like you have a high one.” Wildly began to see
 what all this political manipulation was about and smirked as he
 took the money from Smity. Smity said, “Show a little pride
 cabin boy those are the hard earned dollars of the united states
 navy.” Smity popped a salute and Wildly returned his salute.
Wildly placed the money over near where he slept in the
 pentagon and Smity said, “Ahh, Captian maybe the term ‘cabin
 boy’ is quite right.” Artimus looked back at him and said, “He
 keeps me warm at night and may just be saving my life by doing
 so, He was also a Mess Specialist feeding me. The term cabin
 boy is fitting, I trust him even as his ass is nuzzling my jock in
 his sleep.” Smity looked stunned and with a distant look said,
“I’m sure it’s a great honor sir.” as Dave walked back to lay
 down near the pentagon wall he said, “Yes, a great honor for
 you both.” with a sarcastic tone. Smity just stood there dazed
 and out of focus. And Robert Wildly said, “Your dismissed

Smity” Smity slowly turned his head to look at Wildly and said
 and a clear serious tone, “Thank you cabin boy.”
Atrisia Wells was just in ear shot and line of sight as this
 happen. Atrisia walked over to Smity as he stood there staring
 blankly at the ocean. He looked at her and she said, “Cabin boy
 huh?” Smity looked back to the ocean and said, “Ya…we have
 one of those now.” Atrisia replied, “Maybe you should sit
 down” As smity sat down he asked nearly brought to tears, “You
 going to tell me we have a cabin girl too…or maybe I’m the
 cabin girl?” Atrisia replied, “Ya, so lose the mustache. Fuck
 your crazy dude, maybe he’s just being sarcastic.” Smity replied,
“It doesn’t work like that, it was once pointed out to me that
‘this is a science’, just a couple of months ago infact and this
 titles of respect, endearment, or mockery are the attention that
 results in authority. He went on to say ‘these idiots seem to think
 we’re in a monarchy’ and ‘to watch what titles I accepted’ but I
 couldn’t help but admit I’d take any title. And now the same guy
 that taught me that comes over and drops of water like he’s
 setting water down in a tiger cage.”  Atrisia asked, “So he’s right
 then?” Smity said, “He said it’s actually sort of obvious, it’s just
 so many people don’t stick to their station, they think they out
 smarted the system by being a doctor that changes his own oil.
We’re all just arrogant, we know what should happen and we are
 satisfied with knowing, fuck actually doing it, that’d be work.”
Atrisia looked over to the opening into the pentagon and sat
 next to Smity and said, “Ya, we know what should happen. He
 lost the ship now he’s stealing our money.” Smity just continued
 staring blankly at the horizon.
Near the tree line Eric Milson was hard at work on his tree
 house, he had yet to give any thought as to where those beers in
 his fantasies would come from but as he gazed across the beach

to McCree and the command master chief he had an idea as to
 where the kids at his barbeque would come from. The more he
 wove those twigs together the more determined he became to
 look down upon the world from a lofty childhood fantasy to
 prove he was the ‘Big Daddy’.  
News of Robert Wildly’s new title of ‘Cabin Boy’ was
 spreading quickly; hushed rumors and giggles made him a focus
 of attention. The sexual innuendo in the questions he was asked
 was at times nauseating and at others genuine cause for laughter.
Those that sought him out either sought to accomplish a good
 relationship with him issuing sympathy for the bullying he was
 suffering or to present as competition for the position of
Captain’s bed warmer. This aided Artimus in a circular
 reasoning fashion, with Wildly receiving sympathy for his
 relationship with the former captain, the captain achieved an
 understanding as to his superiority; it was just implied. Dave
Artimus had used this type of sideways attack at deliberated
 reasoning over the course of his whole life. What those that had
 to deal with him thought was irrelevant in the face of what they
 felt. That night Wildly would cry like a baby in the night while
Dave Artimus proved he was a man. The only other sound heard
 that night on the landings side of the island was a male voice
 from the tree line thought to be Eric Milson or possibly the long
 sleeping executive officer calling out the phrase, “Drum solo!!”
It had been nearly a week of this when the stress got to the
 former crew and violence had erupted once again separating the
 groups into the Captains ‘in crowd’ and the cast aside
 castaways.  
 Artimus sat in his empire of apathy as the native’s toiled
 away providing basic sustenance in the form of rations. He had
 collected nearly two hundred dollars in what they later referred