The Secret Life Of Livermold (Part 1)
Time to sit down and just relax.
The recliner is where it’s at.
I kick back and give a sigh.
Raise up the feet on the first try.
I’m getting comfy, looking around.
I see the picture that I’d found.
A picture of a sailing ship.
Framed and looking real fit.
I had hung it on the wall.
It looked pretty good after all.
I had found it in an old trunk.
In the basement, under junk.
Got it when I bought this mansion.
Bought as is; maybe I can win.
Suddenly, the ship began to move.
Then, it grew larger, I behoove.
It encompassed me totally.
I was on board. Somebody hold me.
The ship was rocking on the waves.
Salty spray hitting on my face.
Sailors saw me and gave a shout.
“Stow away” “What’s he about?”
I couldn’t make myself clear.
I didn’t know how I got here.
They were thinking I was crazy.
“Throw him in the hold, ya laze’s!”
The Captain gave the order.
They took me to the hold in quick order.
The Captain came to talk to me.
“Why are you on my ship?”
I didn’t give him any lip.
I told him all that I know.
Told him I had nowhere to go.
“You expect me to believe that crap?”
“You think I’m a stupid cargo rat?”
I said “No. But, the story is true.”
“I’m not trying to make a fool of you.”
“What year is it where you came from?”
“2017, May is about to come.”
“What!!—– It is 1781.”
“What the hell??,” I yelled.
“Have I died and gone to hell??”
“You may wish it, from what I can tell.”
“What is your name, landlubber?”
“I am Tracy Lovermold, Gov’ner.”
“Captain to you. That’s a weird name.”
“So I have been told. Drives me insane.”
“Call me Captain Crutch.”
He said as much.
“Another weird name, I believe.”
“I use a crutch. I won’t deceive.”
The Captain showed him his wooden leg.
“What kind of ship is this keg?”
“A merchant ship. We sail for Spain.”
“Tell me. What is the ship’s name?”
“S. S. Scuttle is her name and fame.”
“We bring a load of gold back to the queen.”
“Where are we now? Caribbean, it seems.”
“Off the coast of America, headed home.”
“Any pirates in this area?” I said.
“Why are you mentioning pirates? You’re dead!!”
“No, no. I only mentioned it because of history.”
“What about history? Talk, or you’re history.”
“Many ships with gold sank or were scuttled by pirates.”
“It is in history books.—– I’ll be quiet.”
“What you say is true.”
“That’s why I tend to maybe trust you.”
“Also, you’re clothes are very strange.”
“ Maybe you tell the truth, or I’m insane.”
“If on this ship, you’ll have to work.”
“What was your trade in this quirk?”
“I was an engineer.” I said.
“What the hell is that?” he led.
“I make things, most not invented yet.”
“Educated eh? I have a job for you set.”
“My first mate died in route.”
“It is tough without him about.”
“You will do his job. Keep up the log.”
“Do good and I won’t feed you to the hogs.”
“Sleep here tonight. First mates bunk a mess.”
“I will get it cleaned, then you’re all set.”
I went to sleep on some sacks of oats.
Rocked to sleep by the rocking of the boat.
I woke up with a start, scaring the cat.
I was back in my recliner. How about that??
Was this all a dream?
The ship’s picture was on the wall, it seemed.
What the hell just happened to me?
My clothes were damp and smelled like the sea.
I had a few oats on my clothes.
What happened here, nobody will know.
———————————————R.W. Johnson—–(2017)