Writetober Day 4 (Knot)

Knot

Day 4

“You’ve got to get faster, rookie.”

The sea’s waves erupted over the side of the large ship.  The words were barely heard as the salt mist drenched the men that clamored across the slick deck.

“I know, I know!”  The designated rookie shouted back to his bunk mate.  His muscles were strained as the rolling water tested everyone’s resolve.  “Done.  Send it!”  

“The damn knot!”  The man in orange shouted at the rookie as the frigid sea air penetrated their lungs.

Shit.  The rookie collapsed the wet rope with an iron grip.  His hands moved in precise, but slow configurations as he bent the rope to his will.  “Done!”  The rookie screamed into the air as he stepped away from the rope.

“Clear!”  His bunkmate signalled to a man across the deck.  “That’s the last one, let’s get inside for some warmth.”

The rookie didn’t protest, he quickly followed his friend into the crew quarters of the swaying ship.

“How’d he do?”  A man behind an old newspaper peaked his eyes over the top as the two men entered. 

“He’s forgotten the knot three times so far, and about twenty times this week!”  The man in orange ripped his soaked beanie off his head.

“Look, I’m sorry, it’s just a lot out there.”  The rookie took his jacket off first as his boots followed.  A dry pair of socks were the focus of his attention during that moment.

“No shit, I don’t think anyone told you this would be easy.”  The man’s words were saltier than the water he was drenched in.

“Go easy on the rook, he will get it.”  The man’s face was hidden behind the newspaper once more.

“Easy for you to say, you’re not out there with unsecured rigging!”  A boot flew across the room in anger.  “As a matter of fact, you’re inside the warmth all damn day!”  The matching boot followed its twin at the other end of the room.  “Fucking christ.  If you forget the knot, we lose the damn trap, and we lose the trap, we don’t get paid.”

The rookie watched as his partner angrily sat in the booth.  “I will get it next time.”

“Save it kid.  Just let him cool off.”  The voice behind the newspaper was a welcoming calm.

Too little, too late.

Silence stayed in the mess room for the remainder of the night.  

The next morning offered no reprieve from the tumultuous ocean as the two men made their way to their work sections.

Don’t forget the knot.  The rookie committed the words to memory.  He and his partner hadn’t spoken since the previous night, but the job still had to be done.

“Rig one prepped!”  The man in orange shouted over the monstrous water that crashed against the ship’s hull.

The knot.  The rookie’s hands moved quickly as his slick hands maneuvered the rope between them.  “Done, send it.”  The rookie’s words were flat, emotionless.

“Clear!”  The man in orange signaled to the worker across the deck as the large cage ripped away from the ship and into the ocean.

The knot.  The rookie stared at his partner.

“Rig two prepped!”  The man in orange signaled toward the rookie.

His gloved hands moved quickly, faster than ever before.  The rookie’s focus was unyielding as his hands tied the knot in ways no one could follow.

“Done, send it!”  The rookie starred, anxiously excited at his partner.  His eyes flashed to the knot that he’d just tied, then to the rope and its journey to the trap.  The rookie’s eyes lingered on the loop around his partner’s ankle.  I didn’t forget the knot.

“Clear!”  The man in orange shouted across the ship.

It was the last words he’d ever speak as the trap rocketed from the ship and dragged him overboard.  

The rookie watched in delight as the heavy metal cage plunged into the cold ocean.  The man in orange was merely a spec beneath the waves as his clawing body was dragged to the ocean’s depth.I tied it nice and tight for you.  The rookie focused his thoughts as he knew what he had to do.  “Man overboard!  Man overboard!”  He smashed the siren button next to him as the men around him frantically searched the sea for any sign of orange.