Into the Mystic

Nassau, Bahama's. Day 1

  The Mystic is docked, an attendant gasses it up. The guy's hover around Derek. "All right mates, I’ve arranged to have her docked here for the night. If we lose anyone, we can stumble back to the ship on our own. We leave at dawn, if you're not here, enjoy your vacation and we'll pick you up on the way back."

  Brandon pumps his fist in the air. "Let the stumbling begin!"

  All hurry to a nearby bar.

  Typical busy Caribbean bar scene. Brandon and Sean dance to the live Reggae band with the locals. Derek and Kyle sit at a table littered with empty shot glasses. An average sized bar but most tables and the bar is filled with locals and tourists. Part of the bar is inside, part outside but covered.

  A local woman, Trista, 25, braided hair, sits with them.

  "So where you boys go from here?"

  Derek downs another shot. "About two hundred miles northeast."

  "Why? There’s nothing there, except the Triangle."

  "That’s why we’re going." responds Derek.

  Trista stares hard at both, downs a shot. "You Americans think the stories you hear be all made up? I tell you mahn, you be playing with fire."

  Derek glances at Kyle. "Tell me more."

  "You don’t hear everything, only what ‘they’ want you to hear."

  "They?" asks Kyle. "Who are they?"

  "The people that be in charge mahn, the same ones that run everything. They determine what you eat, how much they want to charge you. They decide how much you pay to go scuba diving and how much they pay the scuba master. That's who 'they' be."

  Derek asks, "What about the fisherman that bring in the fish?"

  "The same thing mahn, they pay what they want, the fisherman have no choice...where else they gonna go? But more importantly, more fisherman disappear than anyone would dream. You never hear about it, never will."

  Kyle grins. "This is awesome D, our first mysterious encounter. So why won’t we hear about it?"

  Trista's eyes sharpen and stare at both of them. "Tourists mahn, tourists. They boat, fish, stay in expensive hotels, eat at expensive restaurants. You never see that story in your American papers."

  Derek nods. "Sounds kind of crazy but I guess it makes sense. So how many have there been?"

  "No one is sure. My own father disappeared when I was fifteen years old." she glances around. "They don’t want us talking about it. Bad for business."

  Kyle ponders, "So who could 'they' be? A conspiracy?"

  Trista downs a shot. "You hear talk."

  Derek, curious, asks, "Your father...what happened?"

  "He went out with two other men one morning." she pauses, stares down. "They never found their bodies...or their boat. Just like that...BOOM!" she smacks a shot glass on the table. Derek and Kyle listen so intent, they jerk backwards like a ghost just scared them. "Gone forever."

  Derek sighs from the scare. "What does your people think has taken all these men?"

  "There's talk, but, no one knows...for sure. Some say there's a mermaid near the island of Little Exuma. They named her Pretty Molly."

  Derek and Kyle stare at each other. Kyle responds "Legend has it that mermaids can be good and bad. Personally, I don't think they exist."

  "It's all about legends mahn. You know what the blue holes around here are?"

  "I think they're like deep caverns or sinkholes...right?" Derek answers.

  "You got it mahn. They talk about a beast called Lusca. Some say it's part octopus, part shark. others say part octopus, part dragon. The locals believe that it be the cause of any water accidents, like drowning, that happen in or around the blue holes. They say Lusca use her long tentacles to drag humans and fishing boats into her underwater lair."

  Kyle adds, "And with all the fisherman you say disappear, the legend just grows."

  "Just because you can't see something don't mean it doesn't exist." Trista says.

  "So you're saying to open our eyes, look at what's not there?" Derek asks.

  Trista chuckles. "Some people's eyes are open but they still can't see."

  "That's true, sometimes a blind person can see more than someone with their eyes open." Derek adds.

  Kyle, a bit irritated, says, "What's with all this talk about 'eyes open', 'blind people'...for cryin' out loud, we're just taking a cruise so stop with all the 'I can see', 'can you see', BS!"

  Sean wanders to their table, stands still, stares at them. He's bare chested, no shirt on. He sways a bit.

  Derek asks "Are you done dancing?"

  "Well now, that's a good question." he stares at Trista. "Am I done dancing?"

  Trista stands, pulls her chair out. "I would suggest you rest for a few songs. Have a seat." Sean sits, Trista waves goodbye, ambles away.

  Derek stares at Sean. "What happened to your shirt?"

  "What? What are you talking about?" he rubs his hand around his chest and stomach. "It's gone, someone stole my shirt! How could that happen? I must have passed out and they stole it."

  On the stage, in front of the band, Brandon dirty dances with a local who wears Sean's shirt.

  Derek smiles as Sean's head droops. "What do you say we head back to The Mystic and get some shuteye?"

  Sean jerks upright. "Yeah, I'm tired man, I'll find my shirt in the morning."

  They stand, Derek grabs Sean's shoulders to lead him out. Sean glances at the stage, stops, squints his eyes. "Is that my shirt up there...is that woman wearing my shirt?"

  Derek assures him, "No buddy, that's not your shirt."

  "For a minute there I thought it was. Then hurry, get me back before I spew all over the floor."

 

  CHAPTER SEVEN