ConcepciΓ³n buzzed around me as dusk settled upon the city like a mantle. Bright city lights ticked on one-by-one, illuminating the streets and shops in the small district. I watched two young artists from one of the many universities set up canvases on tripods while musicians found their corners, instrument cases open to accept donations.
It was a young city full of beautiful men and women. Alive with a frenetic energy that was contagious. I smiled as a man took his date by the hand, twirling her away before pulling her back into her arms and hugging her close. A grandfather, relaxing in a well-worn chair by an old shop, shouted out encouragement. The girl blushed and pulled her lover through the growing crowd.
I watched them for a moment before turning back to the letter in my hand:
Elijah,
I'm sending this letter back with the captain. I don't have much time as the captain seems eager to be off. We weren't greeted at our arrival but we have a map and your father and I are well suited for finding our way. If we were able to survive our time in the Amazon then I'm sure we'll be fine here.
It's an interesting area (and now I have to write faster, the captain is already trying to leave, he's grumbling behind his scarf about storms and spitting quite a lot like a fat old, angry llama) with broken, weathered columns overgrown with moss and ivy. A light mist covers the ground but the sun should burn it off shortly. There's a certain smell but I think (hope) it will lessen as we move inland.
Oh, the captain is yelling at me now. I have to go. Give my love to Delilah and I can't wait to see you both in three days!
With love,
Mother
I couldn't hear the distant sounds of the port but I could see it from where I sat. The ocean lay beyond and, somewhere over the horizon, the island of New Raleigh waited for me and my sister. I checked my watch and sighed. Delilah should've been here by now. She'd last texted that she was touring the library at the Universidad de ConcepciΓ³n and I had no doubts she'd lost herself in the depths of it.
With a last check of my phone, I texted my sister to let her know I would go meet with the captain. I folded my mother's letter, placing it as a bookmark into my Bible and then left, apologizing to everyone I bumped into on the crowded street.
The old streets in this district were cobblestone and made for foot traffic. The amount of noise was nearly overwhelming: laughter and loud, fast conversations blended with enthusiastic music. I passed a slim young man quietly singing what sounded like a love song and then, later, a quartet blaring the local flavor of Chilean rock. A crowd gathered around the latter, singing and dancing and I had to squeeze through all of them.
I was sweating by the time I left the largest of crowds behind. A cool breeze wafted from the nearby water, bringing with it the salt of the ocean. Far into the distance, I swore I saw a bright flash of lightning. My sister and I had waited two weeks for Captain Agustin to return. Port Authority told me a bad storm had hit shortly after the captain had dropped my parents off. They'd only regained communication yesterday.
The captain should've arrived this morning but I didn't want to harass the man until he'd had time to unwind from his extended travels. Someone from his crew had left the letter at my hotel with a note to see the captain in the evening and so I made my way to where he'd docked.
It took only five minutes to find the
Pampero
. In the darkness, I could only see a few crew aboard, moving slowly at whatever tasks they had. The ship had been a yacht before (so I'd read while waiting) the captain purchased it and refitted it. Now it served to ferry people along the coast or for longer distances when needed.
The ship looked worn. Barnacles clung to the sides, just above the water line and a scummy patina covered the sides. The ship's name was nearly completely covered by a slick green film that seemed to glow in the light. I shivered and pressed my palm against my nose as a sudden chilly wind sliced through me, carrying a foul stench with it.
A loud popping sound startled me and I caught a shower of sparks from the corner of my eye as one of the nearby lights went out. A few men shouted behind me and I watched them walk to the lamp, pointing and arguing over it.
When I turned back to the
Pampero
, a dark shape stood on the dock next to it. Water lapped at the dock and it swayed but the man (or woman) stood preternaturally still. Unmoving as if rooted to the planks. I saw him from the side and as my eyes slowly began adjusting to the darkness, I saw clothes that hung loosely over a thin frame. As if a child wearing his father's clothes.
I waited for a few minutes, unsure of what to do. I felt unnerved for some reason, shivering again. The figure never moved and I began to wonder if my eyes were playing tricks on me, confusing a large sack for a person in the darkness. Yet, it wasn't there when I'd turned to watch the men working on the light.
Clasping my hands to my mouth I called out, "Hello!"
It,
He (for it surely was a man),
turned to me. First his head swiveling on neck and then shifting, his body turning. I took a step and then hesitated.
"I'm- I'm looking for Captain Agustin!" I said, loudly.
The man said something but I couldn't make out the words. I swallowed, took another step and then nearly laughed at myself for being foolish. Shaking my head, I walked forward.
And then stopped. Facing the man. My sweat turned cold and I shivered involuntarily.
He stared at me through milky, unblinking eyes. Even in the dim light, I could see how white his skin was and I swore it glinted in a distant light. Despite the heat, he wore a thick, ragged scarf that covered his neck and hung to his waist. His dark hair clung to his scalp in odd patches and I couldn't tell how old he was. He looked as if his skin was stretched over another man's frame.
"Is," I swallowed hard. The man's gaze was unnerving. Could he even see me through his cataracts? I clutched my Bible close my body as if it were armor. "Is Captain Agustin h-?"
"Are you the boy?" the man rasped.
"I'm sorry?" I asked.
"Are you the boy?" the man said again, in the exact same tone he'd just used. Water dripped from the man's scarf and it hung heavily on his shoulders. I swore I saw it shift around his neck for a moment.
"I don't know who you're looking for," I told him. "I'm Elijah Brooks and I'm looking for Captain Agustin. I'm supposed to meet him tonight to plan my trip to New Ra-"
"I'm Captain Agustin," the old man replied, cutting me off again.