The smell of burnt hair and flesh clung to the plumes of smoke that began billowing through the newly formed skylight in the port side of the USS Crescent City. Wren was flung into reality by a force she could not quite understand. She didn't know if it was the putrid smell raping her nose or the loud secondary explosions that she could hear over her now audibly deficient hearing apparatuses attached to her head. She reached up to inspect if she did in fact still have two ears attached and was temporarily relieved to feel the ears still present. She was missing an earring, but the ears were... "Whathefuck?! My ear!”
Her right ear had a small sliver missing where her earring used to be. The small silver ball had gotten so hot that it melted the flesh right off of her. She looked down and saw the earring half melted to a still smoldering pipe that her ear must have rested on when she landed on the deck.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHo80xnAOYl
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Another explosion coming from the direction of the engineering spaces reverberated the floor beneath her and the bodies, some charred, others slightly breathing, around her began moving. Some only slightly but most with careless abandon. The rumbling of the floor kicked up dirt and debris. The dust and smoke were thick, but she forced her eyes opened to gain her bearing. 622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6DDFyAemKu
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She found herself on a deck lower than she was before the initial explosions. A broken floor above her pointed at her head accusingly. Pain was everywhere, especially in her upper back just beyond her reach. There was an elbow without a hand or a body attached draped across her left leg. Death was all around her. The GQ alarm was sounding. ‘What the HELL is happening? Is this a drill?’ She thought.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdGAhDSN7d8
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“This is not a drill, thi… not a drill.” ‘That was the XO on the 1MC. This is serious.’ She couldn't stop the voices in her head.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡO3UL7Kq9wn
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"General Quarters, Gen...l Quarters! All hands man ...ur battle stations.” ‘He sounds hurt, labored even. What is this in my back? I can't reach. Oh God I’m bleeding.’622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmH3ji3rQZp
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“...rboard side, down and aft on the port. Set material condition zebra throughout the ship. This is not a drill. General Quarters, Gen… Mary, mother and Joseph..." the voice equivocated his shock to the ship in his fading, fleeting timbre. His last communication was capped by a thump and a squelch. The static of the open channel was the last thing Wren heard before momentarily slipping out of consciousness again.
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“You've never talked about that day before. What made you want to talk about that today?” The Veterans Administration therapist asked Wren.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkQiFNTRyXY
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Wren sat up on her knees nestled into the deepest crevice of the therapist's musty couch. Her face was pale with distraught as she silently lived the madness again.
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It was a scene worse than the devastation of the F4 tornado she barely made it through when she was a kid in missouri, only this was the open sea. The destruction spanned for miles and the debris and the bodies were drifting farther and farther every minute. "Oh God, the bodies." Wren uncontrollably sobbed.
Outside the floating wreckage of the USS Crescent City, the other ships in the strike group that hadn't gone in early to help secure the port at ... for the upcoming port call, were making evasive maneuvers to extricate themselves from the debris field. Most of them had at least minor damage due to the blast radius from the Australian refueler that blew a wide gash in the quarter mile long aircraft carrier. Smoke was billowing out the hole in the side and fires were springing to life on the flight deck.
Out of nowhere Turkish and British vessels came to the aid of the crippled ships. Even a few Somali pirates showed up attempting to capitalize on the chaos. It turned out to be a perfect storm of destruction. The debris was ubiquitous, and the smoke filled every man-made crevice on the water. People were dead or dying everywhere. This all just became way too real for the crew, especially Wren.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt62QAcctRP
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"Macy!" Wren came to again looking around unbeknownst to where she was in this nee unfamiliar landscape. She began to find her bearings. Realizing she was now one floor lower than she was just moments ago, she crawled back up a crippled stanchion to where the decks used to be.
Wren could see into the galley. Her confusion causes her breath to cease. She is not supposed to be able to see into the galley. The kitchen was on fire, engulfed in flames behind melting plexiglass. The smoke trailing to the newly formed windows to the outside world. There was crackling and pops with small explosions all around her. The 1MC could be heard in the distance, the voice was more frantic but no instruction could be made out.
Wren crawled through the debris and through the smoke that was unexpectedly trailing through newly formed fissures wide enough to be castle windows in the hull. She reached the top half of the up ladder that was hot, but remarkably still intact. She wrenched herself up to the top step trying to reach safety. And that's when she saw her.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk3ayjjo6Rt
622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAsEqEyWLra
Macy was there, bloody and bruised, knee joint exposed on her left leg, right leg wrapped around the top rungs of the ladder. There was a crude tourniquet fashioned out of a belt wrapped around her upper thigh that was stopping the bleeding. She reached for her hand and pulled herself close to her with her other hand grabbing the step Macy was resting on. She checked for a pulse and breathing, it was thready and shallow respectively, but she was alive. She tried to wake her to no avail. She checked the rest of her and found a very bad gash on the back of her head. Frantically she looked around for something to stop the bleeding, but everything that was cloth was on fire and her coveralls were not ideal for ripping. She decided to try and go back down and search the deck below. She was able to reach the bottom and find her feet through the rumblings in the floor and explosions from outside the ship. The floor shook and she looked back to see AO3 racing down the stairs . He paused catching Wren's glare, then shaking it off he bolted for Macy putting the pillow cases in his hand flush against the wound . Wren put her hand up in protest as she saw he was not wearing a belt. She was confused and stunned because of his concern as the 1 MC shouted commands through the crackles of the broken intercom 622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlcHCIJ32ux
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“Bra... for imp..t, ...ace for impact!” warning came from a new voice, a younger voice. A scared, but strong vo…. Her thoughts were interrupted by five short horn blasts from above signaling imminent danger.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡG3AmoNYkEo
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"c.....sio... ert.... oli....alert! Br..for impact! Brac.... Wren looked out the slit beside her and saw the island of the Durance-class replenishment oiler, HMAS Prestidge, completely engulfed in flames and without a stern barreling down on the Crescent City. The tip of the bow already under water and taking on more fast, but not fast enough. Five sec..ds to i..act" the voice more resigned.
Wren looked up to where Macy's body lay then up to Vince. He was wearing a bloodthirsty grin, and she then realized she was standing between the Devil and the deep, like that XYLØ song. And just like that XYLØ song that she could almost taste on her near-deaf ears, she was begging someone to save her.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdQCDaFgEro
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“T-ree... oo.. one..."622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKeCinxf7eC
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"Macy" She said to the therapist, head still buried. 622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKPl5xrlsNE
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“You were just with her weren't you?” Wren opened her eyes and looked straight down at her scrunched up feet quizzically.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnaap6uNq25
622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8vUNmJCICu
“over the last few weeks. You were there. Earlier you said you just got back from visiting a friend in the hospital. That was Macy wasn’t it.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6Qpx0z0W8O
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She feigned a smile. “mm-hmm”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHHWJrSP2OY
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“How is she doing?” The voice was more incessant.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY7wdltGDCW
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“She's… she's still in a coma.” She said hesitantly. 622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLlsgDLVi28
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“Where is she?” The question was almost forceful. “Where is she, Auri? That's what she called you isn't it? When you were alone in your bunk. Where is my little bitch?” The raspy hiss caused Wren to snap her head up with a shock. She threw her feet down and braced her arms wide on the leather couch. Sitting on the edge of the chair that should have been occupied by her psychiatrist was AO3 Vincent.
“Where....”
She scanned left to right with foggy eyes. He crept to her chair.
“Is....”
He put his hands on the arms of her chair and leaned into her face.
“SHE?!”
She shook her head in shock violently. He pushed her chair to the floor and took his knife out lunging at her, “Where Auri, Where?!”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1GDLdjGBow
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“AURI!
TODAY 622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKSmWtqP0N0
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“Auri. Wren. Wake up.” The whispering voice was Malik gently trying to wake Wren from her nightmare…622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhSKVzej3Qf
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“Where…” The question was groggy and was cut short by her own exhaustion.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1w0dbh5GK9
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“Outside the BlueSoul.” she looked around distraught and then affixed her eyes on the blue and gold ocular sign that was missing an 'e'. She found a smile to mask her inner anguish.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQc1Ma9AGft
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“Oh, Well hell yes, why didn’t you wake me sooner sailor? Girl needs a mid day fix, here.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡId7dS7zUmP
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“I’m sure they got a nice big mug of ‘shutdafuckup’ in there. Now com’on, I already deposited the film and we gotts an hour to kill, no pun intended, of course.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ87VDwRH4iG
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“Surely.” she said with feigned sarcasm.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡd7SFea7I4B
“Seriously. And don’t call me 'Shirley'.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOeGjuofKaw
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“Don’t call me 'Seriously'.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt3cvTEcJrL
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The banter went on like this past the dripping tree and up to the counter of the BlueSol Coffeehous. The establishment was a favorite of the local scene. It was situated far enough away from the Vieux Carre down St. Charles to keep the tourists at bay and the local riff raff to keep coming back for more. It was easy to get addicted to the cozy, low-lit, beat-nik-esque landscape inside the old world coffee bar.
The layout included a full stage, a small vip room in the back for private meetings and candle-lit coffee dates. The fauna-laden courtyard out the back door had a few wrought iron tables, an ivy-covered fountain and a pathway to a back set of stairs leading to an elevated open-air covered bridge that connected the main building to the old servant’s quarters. The view from the bridge contained a bird’s eye of the courtyard, the smoke billowing from a vent belonging to the ten-pound coffee roaster in the roof of the main building that smells of chocolate covered cherries with a hint of nutmeg and the mural of a New Orleans-style Starry Starry Night on the backside of the neighbor’s wall facing the fountain with live gas lamps as a living part of the mural.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ68mKoifdqF
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“Somewhere in the place was the missing “e” from the sign out front. It’s a mystery as to who took it, and no one has been able to find it since its disappearance.” The tall scruffy man under the black fedora held court behind the bar to the patrons resting on the stools spanning the entire 10-yard bar. Behind the scenes of the historical oration of the coffeehouse and coffee in general by the man clad in black was a mirror as long as the bar in a single pane. The view in the mirror was littered with pictures of past house performers, an extensive menu of coffee drinks and a single framed Jazz Fest Poster. It was the only one as to not make the place look like a tourist trap, and wouldn’t be there if it didn’t have a special meaning to the barkeep.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1pTkUkcFi9
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“Hey, why only the one Jazz Fest Poster? You know her or something?” These were common questions from the newbies.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTbtvcuqSC8
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“...yeah, that was a special day when that Jazz Fest guy came in here, I thought he was a damn salesman. He had this beat up, wet box under his arm and put it on the counter and ordered a coffee ‘in a beat up mug 'if ya got one’ he said. It was pretty busy that day so I kept an eye on him pretty good to make sure no one was gonna get hustled. It wasn’t long after that wh…." He paused with a slight smile, "My ex-wife left me for that eighteen year old from across the ‘train. Made it harder to get to everybody with just me tendin’ to the people and the tree. But, on a side note... good riddance." He whispered, beaming ear to ear, to no one in particular.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6SSaSK0zZE
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“Oh, no, I’m So sorry.” They’d say.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzQObFMg0bG
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“Fuck that, brother, I was glad to be unburdened. I’ll take workin’ solo during a mardi gras crowd ANYday compared to… well, that gorram mess with Doxy.” Cussin’ like a good sailor should. “Anyway, I half expected him to be looking around for a mark or even casin' the joint. He just stared at these pictures I got up here and looked like he was writin somethin down on a napkin. I got knee deep in Zulu Steamers and cappuccinos and such that I didn’t even see him leave. When I finally made it back over to his seat to bus the mug, I noticed the box was left by the coffee tree. No note or nuthin’. I just put it right here by the mirror thinking he’d be back. A couple’a days went by, a week, a few months, no salesman.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡP9tcYlSVOa
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“What’d you do?”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAgplLpvPYI
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“I threw the shit away.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJXOvlGrZXu
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“What? Really?”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUsuQD4GgZW
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“No jughead, you gonna let me tell the story?”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU0frxPtJyY
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“Yup, sorry old man.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUxDAp8gbiM
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After a scowl and a brief warning from his knife hand, the ‘old man’ finished the story. “I opened the box and saw the note on the napkin inside. Box was weak and crumbling, but the frame was still intact and there was this jazz poster you see here. But it was special. If you look closely enough you can actually see the fine brush strokes on the slick canvas.” he leaned in closer to the poster holding his glasses to the tip of his nose as if it were making it easier to see the strokes.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTVrbRozthU
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“Can we see?”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7eb8egnSbZ
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“No you might get coffee breath on it.” It was his prized possession, no doubt. “Its not a poster,” as he said while righting himself. “It’s the original.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrQyMXtNBJt
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“She’s beautiful.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4ubIVUwM3C
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“Yes, yes she is. Muy hermosa. She was a singer from the mountains of Mexico who traveled with an afro-cuban jazz band before Afro-Cuban jazz was even a thing. Her name was Marina Alvarez and her voice was like waves on a sea. A velvety, raspy mix of sex and fervor. I saw her once at Tipitina’s and was blown away. She was majestic.” He stood there with a wide-eyed look of remembrance and awe.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDDzVyRT8zf
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The bar was quiet for a few minutes in reverence of his journey to another place in his mind. “What did the note say?”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡi8ajA8Iv0Y
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“Huh? Oh, the note.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6lQtRtudu3
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“Yeah in the box.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmSudlSdJtD
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“It said... ‘She woulda liked it here.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq31RPXwG27
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Blank stares all around. “That’s it?”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvd6cBbPHpn
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“That’s it” The ‘Professor’ as he was called grabbed a carafe and started to freshen up cups of coffee. He went to the end of the bar farthest from the coffee tree. “Hey Wren, want me to give that cup some life?”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiPTC2YA2Du
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“Yes please, keep it coming.” 622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4UDRu0GR5v
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“And for you, more H2O? You still on that health food kick brother? You gonna drink up the whole Missippi ya know.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrW0gYoepou
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“I’ll get Jazmine tea if ya got it.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZxcddCCVrw
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“Have I got? Have I GOT it? Of course I got… Shit I’m out. Got some blackberry sage, though.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRYBVf6YZlL
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“That'll do.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxLzyNmNhBv
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“Damn straight that'll do.” The playful quip hung in the air as he walked back toward his soapbox to fix the tea. As he approached the landing pad behind the espresso and tea area of the bar, he finished his story as if he never left. “And then I look at the signature. Do you know who painted that piece?”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcKTY2WLosZ
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The invested patrons shook their heads collectively.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuoFOsIGJ3T
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Her daughter, Makayla “Blue” Perrez, the one and only.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7Jd2m6x33y
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“No fuckin’ way, really?” The purple-haired tattoo artist was a fan of her work and foaming at the mouth.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnzuRQ76uVY
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“That’s right. I met her once too.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuXfytOmj3Y
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“He tellin ya’ll the one about the mysterious stranger who just left a priceless piece of art on the counter and disappeared into thin air?” Malik interjected as he came to check on the status of his order. “Pickin’ and squeezin’ dem blackberries yoself Professor?” he turned to milk some of the attention away from lecture. “He probly bought dat off of some orphan in the street in Pirate’s Alley.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlAXlDvaLXm
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“Alright Oliver Twist, take your damn tea and go tune up them drums for tonight before I hire me another entertainer.” He slid the tea on the bar with a smirk.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqhMlO8el27
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“Hey speakin of hirin… you think about hiring my girl Boss? She's a hard worker, mighty fine and a beast in the kitchen.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4bXr9K64E0
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“Look you’ve axed me a thousand times, I might do it just to shut your cum hole up, but for now, dem drums ain’t gonna tune themselves.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡI8V6qH9evc
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“So you’ll think about it?”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaX3w1R5U6f
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The grunt that came from the Professor was either a sign of approval or an insult in some aboriginal language.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡla379mOEzV
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“What about the guy?” The turtleneck with the perpetually perplexed look on his face pondered outloud?622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk1zHUSn96O
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“What guy?”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdbdjF26D80
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“The dude, the guy…” As if the ‘Dude’ added a layer of clarity to the previous question.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2SpNGxWmKT
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“Oh, the guy who left the painting. Yeah, funny story.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjFIa8iRDvB
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The four people already on the edge of their seat installed another inch to the diameter of the stool to scoot in close.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkdD52smImd
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“Not… a damn… clue.” And with an adjustment to his hat, he fluttered away to service the other tables in and outside the shop. That was that. History lesson concluded, and as always, the barflies were addicted to more than just his coffee. He always left his audience wanting more.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhzveiOKd0D
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Wren gave a half-smile as the Professor scurried from around the bar to take care of his customers, her head pointed to the reflection in the bottom of her near empty cup staring back at her.622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPVAbazGYHT
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“Feeling better Wren?622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyE9RBH1mTu
622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeRpO3MpelM
“Um, yeah, a bit”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNB7vECiNOw
622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLfX7rUungK
“Wanna do a sound check?”
She took a second to reassess her mood.
“Hey, I think it’ll be best to wait until tonight when I’m feeling more myself.”622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpmDWvy6Nzk
622Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8HgQEpNHJI
“OK, I’m gonna tune those drums. And check on the prints upstairs.” Malik vanished as the bell on the door chimed signaling another wayward traveler finding the coffee oasis. There was a light bit of rain glistening off his blue suit and trilby hat. He wore an inquisitive look and a Blu e-cigarette hung from his lips bobbing up and down as he spoke. The words that escaped from the travelers mouth were British with a hint of pashtu.
As he was talking with the professor, the detective glanced to the end of the bar and momentarily locked his brown chestnut eyes with the oceans that filled Wren's. Intrigue and trepidation was now welling up inside Wren's soul.
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