DAY ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-SEVEN
The One-Way Voyage
I knew what I needed to do.
I'd put it off as long as possible, but the end of the voyage was drawing near. If I didn't act soon, Master was going to throw me overboard first.
Even knowing that, I was reluctant. I'd loved my time aboard
Mariposa
, and I didn't want it to end.
I dismissed the sentiment as childish. All things end. The best we can hope for is to end them on our own terms.
September had arrived. The noon sun was peaking lower to the south, indicating that we were leaving the tropics. I could feel the first chill of autumn air. Master was back to wearing long pants and sneakers topside, as he had at the beginning of our voyage together. Some days, when the wind was fresh, he wore a jacket.
Since I didn't wear clothes, the cooler weather increasingly confined me below. I could climb the stair to the deck house, but going outdoors brought goose bumps and chills. Master sometimes found it amusing to make me run laps on deck in the cooler weather, but this wasn't too bad, so long as I kept moving. It was when I stopped that the shivers began.
Most of the time, though, Master had me lift weights below, or assigned me cleaning duties.
While I attended to my work, Master spent increasing amounts of time on the bridge, plotting our course, reading and sending emails, and making video calls. He'd been away from his business for long enough, it seemed, and his business needed him back. These final days would have passed more happily if I could have spent more time with Master. Cuddling with him in his bed at night was always my favorite thing. We still did that some evenings, but only briefly. Afterward he would take me back to my own room and lock me inside. "Suresh thinks it's for the best," he kept telling me, apologetically.
Fuck Suresh.
What did he know?
The sky grew gray and the winds blew cooler. I knew we must be within days of San Francisco. If I didn't make my move soon, Master would make his.
I wondered how he would do it. Would he simply lead me to the rail and shove? Would he try to explain first, or surprise me? Would he drug me, to make it easier on both of us?
No, I couldn't let that happen. I had to act first.
My opportunity came on a day that began with gray skies and a spatter of rain. I sat at Master's feet during lunch, and we watched through the dining room window as the clouds broke and the sun smiled on us. After Master finished feeding me mac and cheese, he instructed me to mop the dining room floor. I fetched the mop and bucket, and Master left to climb the stair to the bridge.
I spent a few minutes in the dining room, going through the motions until I was sure Master was upstairs and occupied, before I put the mop and bucket back in the supply closet. (Neatness counts.) I walked slowly through the deck house to the forward door. I paused to reflect that this was the very door I had burst through during my first escape attempt, 136 days ago. I chuckled to myself as I recalled how I had not even realized I was on a boat.
I put my hand on the door handle and hesitated. Master was just over my head. He would not see me at first, but he might hear the door. I opened the door slowly and quietly, stepped through, and shut it behind me.
Master would not see me so long as I kept close to the deck house wall, but that was not the plan. I wanted Master to see. I wanted him to know exactly what I was doing and why.
I stood tall, took a deep breath, and strode to the port bow, to the place where the railings came together into a point. Here was where Master had locked me up and spanked me as punishment for that first escape attempt. A fitting place to make my last.
"Hey!" Master had spotted me. Seconds later, I could hear the sound of his footsteps hurriedly descending the stair to the deck.
No more time for reflection. It was now or never.
I took hold of the port side of the rail with both hands and climbed over it. My toes were on the edge of the deck; my heels over the water. Only my grip on the rail was preventing me from plunging into the sea below.
Master was approaching.
"Don't come any closer, or I'll jump!"
He froze in place. "What are you doing?" he demanded. He looked stricken.
"I'm making it easy for you. I want you to know that the past four months have been the best of my life. I never imagined myself cruising the ocean on a private boat with someone as amazing as you."
"Okay...," Master said, slowly and carefully, "but that doesn't explain why your ass is hanging over the edge of the deck."
"Suresh told me what you do with your slaves after you've finished with them." I hesitated. This was more difficult than I'd expected. "I dared to hope that my Master felt the same way about me as I did about him, and now I know it's true. You're deliberately drawing away from me, emotionally. You spend less time with me. You won't sleep with me. You're preparing for this day.
"You don't really want to throw me overboard, but we both know you must. Because you have trust issues, right? You can't keep me in San Francisco, because I might escape, or someone might find out about me, and then you'd have to answer questions. The publicity would ruin you and your company. You can't let me go, because however hard I promise, no matter how much I mean it, you can never be sure I won't talk. I'd be like a time bomb, ticking away in the middle of your life. Every morning you'd wake up wondering whether this would be the day you'd look at your phone and discover that I had exposed you.
"I realize you can't take that risk. Everything you are and everything you built depends on my silence, and there's only one way you can be sure I'll stay quiet. I know you don't want to do it, and that's okay. You won't have to. I'll take care of it for you, because I love you, Master. You have so much, and I don't want anyone to take it from you. I had nothing, until I had you, but I understood from the beginning that this could never be anything more than a one-way voyage. I accept that. But before I go, I have one more thing I want to say: Thank you, Master. I've lived more in the past four months than most people manage in a lifetime. I could never repay you for all you've done for me, but I can offer this one gift; the only gift that's in my power to give."
"Slave, no! I forbid it!" Master shouted to me even as I let go of the rail and fell over backward into the ocean.
I'd hoped to go in feet first, but my hand slipped and I landed on the water flat on my back. The impact stung. The ocean was colder than I'd expected. As I fell, Master shouted, but I couldn't make out the words against the rush of the water. I sank into the Pacific's chill embrace, and discovered my stinging back was the least of my worries.
