…some work in progress from the Cazique of Poyais story…
The feelings amongst the passengers aboard the Ocean were deeply divided. They were also so tired and worn out that the divisions did not show much in the day to day runnings of the ship. Not to mention that many with opinions they wished to voice had such limited voice due to their illness. Debate only flashed up in anger at odd times and subsided nearly as quickly. They brewed though, continually, and lead to a rotten mood for all aboard.
After setting sail, Noemi and Jose spent a few days keeping to themselves, exhausted from their mental journey up to this point. They skulked below decks as long as they could before going on deck each day to take in some fresh air. It was a miserable existence that was only improved by the fact that Noemi and Jose were on speaking terms, having summarily swept the Uncle Tito issue under the rug, for the moment.
“It stinks in here, brother. How can it smell so awful?”
“I guess ships like this have seen it all. Maybe it’s just ingrained in the wood,”
“I feel so useless sitting here doing naught.”
“There are sick people you could look after I think though you’ve probably had enough of that for a lifetime.”
Noemi pondered the idea before responding, “I don’t think I’ve had my fill for a lifetime, but I don’t have it in me right now.”
“We could talk to some others. Get to know some people and find out a thing or two about London. There is much we do know, but so much of the regular that is a mystery.”
A silence fell over their conversation filled in only by the sounds of the creaking ship and relatively calm waters as they made their way through the gulf to the Atlantic. Tension lingered even though they were now on speaking terms, so Jose pushed the matter no further, simply waiting for a response or a continuation of the silence. He turned his head away and picked up a book. After he had leafed through a few pages Noemi said, “not today,” and then she turned to be left to her own thoughts.