Post by Pony on Aug 17, 2006 16:11:50 GMT -5
Sailing To Atlantis
by
Anthony Rain Starez
The blistering rays of the Sun beat down upon my shoulders turning them an even darker shade of brown as our sails filled with wind, pulling our lumbered-vessel through the choppy waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Again, I found myself standing port-side holding the worn splintered railing of the wooden ship called, appropriately enough, the Buscando la paz. With my hands gripping the rounded piece of wood I cursed the horizon for offering nothing but a Sun that dipped into the endless blue swells. Amidst the list of things to curse was myself for the journey I fought so hard to begin four months earlier. The agony of sailing towards nothing, in search of something no one could even prove existed was only part of the hardships being endured by my men and me.
Everyday that passed I felt weaker inside, while never letting the crew see my humiliation. In the morning the men and I would kneel to God, any God, and pray that this day would bring us to the great lost city of riches, Atlantis. In the afternoon I would stare in silence, thinking of how foolish I would look if my men and I never realized my dream and perished due to starvation or illness or a storm that would take us down to a watery grave.
Tension was growing beneath the deck, I could feel it like an animal stalking me as it's prey. My men were increasingly frustrated with this aimless search; fights would break out nearly every night as drink would poison the mind further. A few had turned themselves over to the tombs of the sea by disappearing overboard in the dark hours of dawn. Who could blame them as everyone was being pushed to their own personal limits.
It was evident I was quickly losing control over my crew, and myself....then one clear morning while studying navigation charts in my cabin I heard an excited voice on deck shouting, "Sir, Sir, I see something...Hurry!"
I ran to the deck and desperately snatched the spyglass from the observer, and looked deep into the distance. At first I saw nothing, then I saw a shimmer of light upon a mountain top. Excited, I set a course for the tiny light of hope. It took all day for our vessel to get within a couple of miles from landfall. But oh what a wonderful sight of trees swaying in the winds and white sandy beaches! My body was so tired of the constant rocking motion of the sea, and the thought of standing on firm ground made me feel like a school boy. However, my eyes were trained on the reflection of light emanating from the mountain top that would suddenly blind me when the Sun would cast a particular way upon it. Could this be the ancient city searched for by so many men possessed by this same quest?? Secretly, I asked myself with an aching hope?
I'd been a fool all my life, never finding what it is that makes most men satisfied with who they are. Usually, that meant a wife and children, but my soul was too restless for such calm. Plus, I never met a woman with enough passion to hang on to me when I would stray. Would I now be rewarded with the riches of kings for my solitude? To find Atlantis would be affirmation of the man I've known who existed inside, but was never able to show. Atlantis would give me the Gold, the Silver, the women to fill my darkest wishes, the drink to inebriate my soul and plenty of friends that would always be there to erase the loneliness.
In my mind, I knew the reason I staked everything, my identity, on a far-fetched dream. Shamefully it was my childhood that separated me from the rest of the World and locked me away in my own private prison. I was the child who at 15 years of age would take the long way home so the other children wouldn't see exactly where I lived, or see the emotional scars left on my soul by adults around me who were really desperate children themselves, including teachers who could scald you with their eyes and make your feelings bleed. They were the Vultures that fed on the weak children that were too distracted to learn their lessons. Oh yes, and there was something else I’d realized; my obsession had little to do with money, it was my dirty need to be important, my over-compensation for feeling like a rat in a King's bed. What a filthy feeling for a child. In fact, most of my life had been hiding my secret, but now...there was hope!
That tiny glimmer of light had already set my imagination afire. In the depths on my subconscious I'd already turned the tables on those that had never believed in me. This was my chance to finally belong in the bed of Kings and make a mark upon history before I slip into old age. People would read about me, Antonio del Cielo, the great explorer, they would say. They would ask questions of me, create statues of my image, admire me and find inspiration in me. Once I found Atlantis I could throw myself upon the thick pillows of comfort, finally to exhale of satisfaction. Yes breathe, and laugh at the empty cell I had cheated out of a permanent occupant...
Anchoring 100 yards off shore, we made our way to the tranquil beach in smaller boats. My men and I had never seen such a lush land, and so we seemed captivated by simple trees. Upon reaching the shore I wasted no time in putting together a party of men to climb the steep mountain in search of the lost city. We cut away the thick brush that stood in front of us like small determined guards, and we worked our way slowly up the treacherous cliffs. Nothing would hold me back. Nothing.
As I reached for my next hold on a rock that would take me one step closer to my beloved Atlantis, I suddenly felt the Earth beneath my hands shake. It stopped as quickly as it came, then shook again with more terrifying force. A deep groan seemed to come from the mountain above, spewing chalky ash into the sky and falling on everything below. I examined the dust with my fingertip and found it peculiar in texture. For my men and I had never felt a mountain rumble and throw forth anything. This was completely foreign from any mountain we'd ever encountered in our far-away homeland. Astonished, many men refused to go one inch closer to the top, some prayed for forgiveness of everything they'd ever done, many simply shook with fear, and inside I cursed the God that was trying to cheat me from my winnings.
As I examined the warm dust on my fingers I discovered shiny flakes of Gold, fueling my fire of hope and speculation of this being the great city. Moments later, a huge explosion from the mountaintop blew forth a solid gold boulder the size of a barrel, then another, then another.....the golden chunks were blown high into the sky and falling like brilliant stars to the beach and shallow waters below us. Eyes wide and hands that trembled under fear, I stared in awe as this freak of nature mountain fired off house-size rocks of gold upon my men trapped on the beach. Hanging to the cliff with white-knuckles, I could see my men running for cover and some being crushed under the weight of the magnificent Gold that I once lusted, now hated, all in one.
Convinced this was some cruel joke God had decided to play out, I shouted my curses upward to the mountain where I supposed God must live. Ironically, the same mountain I clung to for safety.
Was this my reward to have the city I searched for defiantly spit in my face piece by piece? Secretly I prayed this was not the case, but still a familiar sickness in my belly began to swell. It was the same sickness I felt as a child when my stepfather would come home red-faced and drunk and looking for a fight. I remember clinging to my pillow as a child and praying with the same fervor I was now gripping this strange mountain with—the same curses poured from my mouth now. The fear of a monster out of control stole my esteem in my youth the exact same way this mountain was making me feel small and helpless.
I watched in horror as two large pieces of Gold falling from the sky tore through our ship, splintering my hopes of making a quick escape. I could see from my vantage point high above that the Buscando la paz was taking on water rapidly and it would only be a few minutes before she would surrender to the clear blue waters, leaving what's left of my men and me stranded on some unknown land with an angry mountain set on killing us.
Liquid Gold began to seep from holes on the mountain, running slowly down the side like thick searing blood, swallowing my men in it's wake. And despite the violence there was a strange feeling of peace as my beautiful ship slipped under the waves as gentle as a morning breeze.
On the flat horizon of the ocean I spied the silhouette of a ship...a ship of hope, a ship of change—for a ship of fools!
