The Prisoner and the Guard

Tread Water

A large bird descended from the ancient sky and lifted the rickety wooden ship out of the ocean. A man fell off the deck into the water, while others watched through portholes, amazed at their flight. Locked in the gallows, away from the light and sound of the decks above, a mutinous former first mate, nearly dead from malnutrition, drew on the wall of his cell a shockingly real portrait of the bird’s fiery eyes. The chalk in his hand crumbled and fell away into dust. He took a step back and admired his work. Just then the room shook, tossing him about the floor and against the walls. All was disturbed, except for the large chalky-white eye, which clung to its place on the wall.

Two shaken sailors, feeling themselves lifted into the air, prayed for the strange bird to release their beloved ship. As the bird flew higher, however, their prayers shifted, and the wished for the bird to hang on tight. They spoke to each other:

“Perhaps we will be brought to heaven,” said one.

“Oh, we’ll all die for sure,” replied the other. “But I think some of us will be brought to hell.”

The first sailor sighed and looked out the porthole at the passing sky.

Below, a young sailor treaded water. Far in the sky above, the bird and the ship were quickly becoming smaller in the distance. He had been cleaning the deck when the bird first appeared, and was the first to be thrown overboard. Several fell from higher up and died on impact. They floated along the ocean’s surface. He knew he could not tread forever. Soon he would be another body floating along the still surface. Above, the dot—the big ship and the bigger bird—disappeared into the sun. It was like none of it happened, yet there he was in the water, surrounded on all sides. He wondered what else he could do.