Cinnamon

As he plunges into the cold water hearing the shouts behind him, the familiar, almost welcoming shock greets him and he begins to swim. The practiced strokes causing his body to cut through the water. Then, ggafter a few seconds he stops, needing to look back at his handiwork. The captain is cursing,  screaming. She knows what this means. The man stays in place the gentle waves buffeting him, wetting his beard and smile grows. The smile splits, a soft chuckle escapes. Then, a laugh. It’s loud and deep but has a tinny quality, this is a cruel laugh. It grows in volume and in mirth, richness. An outside observer might almost think it was happy, but if you did heard it for more than a few seconds you would hear that tin, the edge. Now the man‘s whole body is shaking with the sound, breaking the water around him. This goes on for minutes. He sees the captain again still yelling through the spray he’s created and if it’s possible his metal laughter grows to new depths of volume and voracity. His laugh is all consuming and even his habits that have kept him paddling subconsciously are absorbed. He laughs so hard he forgets to swim. The one cruel thought that manages to meander its way through his mind is that he was a good shipmate, he left behind a gift. This fuels his laughter, racking his lungs which slowly are taking in water. His body spasms his laughs start to sound more like wet coughs. Not dissimilar to what slapping a full sponge against a wall,scraping a fork against concrete and a seal barking at the same time would sound like grating but moist. The last thing he saw of the above world was the black spot in her hand while his shaking “laughter” continued until it was just a ripple on the surface.

YEARS LATER 

“Dada? Why?” Her deep brown eyes looked up at her father. “Yeah, why us?” Her brother asked tearily. Their father sighed and looked out the window at their little coastal town.  “If you take a boat out to where the sun aligns between the two Pherasan hills they say the ocean is dead still for a league except for one small constant ripple. They say there was a man, who will never stop laughing down in Davey Jones’ locker.”