Free The Ophir by Irene Patino

Cilicia on top of
the name Ophir in the mind of the man climbing aboard. The crew
took three steps back, turned and disappeared into the fog rolling
onto the deck.
    The citizen's eyebrows went up in surprise,
but the Captain walked to him and touched his shoulder forcing him
to turn and look into his eyes. The Captain’s eyes seemed to glow
and grow with intensity as he looked deep into the other's eyes.
All disturbing thoughts were erased.
    “Your name?” Captain Antonio looked deeply
into the first man’s eyes
    “Jose Vasquez”.
    “Jose, welcome to the Cilicia.”
    When the captain directed his mesmerizing
gaze in the direction of the second man, he said, “I am Grillo”, in
a very shaky voice.
    When the negotiations were over, Jose would
remember nothing out of the ordinary. He would make all
arrangements for repairs and payment. Supplies and crew would board
the disguised Ophir that night and work until just before
daybreak.
    The lamia crewmen responsible for cleaning
the hull of barnacles would work in groups of ten, two hours at a
time beneath the water level, heard but not seen by the
islanders.
    * * * *
    I, as was my habit, went back to my quarters.
Through experimentation with my original master, we discovered that
if I was drained in small amounts, and then replenished with less
than taken, my life could also be extended beyond that of mortal
man but less than that of the vampires. The evidence of
putrefaction was difficult to deny. Flesh is finite, unfortunately.
Until the point where I was a skeleton dressed in imagination, I
continued to hope for release.
    My reaction to land was minimized. It
weakened me, but did not incapacitate me. I took longer rest
periods.
    My hearing acute, I was careful to record the
events taking place just above my station, as well as all
negotiations. My records were meticulous. If these writings were to
be discovered, I was sure they would be dismissed as the ravings of
a lunatic.
    “Jose?”
    “SSssh! Be silent. The sooner we complete
these repairs, the sooner we go back to our homes and
families.”
    Grillo bowed his head and went back to
replacing worm eaten planks on the ship’s deck. His skin crawled
when he heard shuffling noises coming close and then receding.
Although he would peer into the fog that hung like a thick curtain
around them, he could see nothing.
    He could, however, hear and feel the scraping
sounds from beneath the boat. It vibrated through his body and
unnerved him.
    * * * *
    Captain Antonio watched the workmen replace
the deck planks. They worked fast and with expertise. He could
sense the fear in the one called Grillo. The man was well
named.
    Grillo’s hearing was excellent, and every
time he sensed anyone near, he did a little jump, much like the
grasshopper he was named for.
    “What was that? Did you see that?” Grillo
jumped.
    “Stop! You frighten me more with your
behavior than any other distractions.”
    “But, Chuchi ... ”
    “Don’t call me Chuchi. It’s Jesus and the
name gives me greater comfort than you.”
    The Captain kept his men at bay. They weren’t
hungry as much as curious. If one didn’t know better, you would
almost call it melancholy. But the truth was they sometimes toyed
with those that came aboard. They experienced the stories told
about them and thought them amusing.
    More than once a vampire, in the middle of a
human meal, was heard to giggle. He sometimes lost his grip on one
victim or another while draining the man’s thoughts. The predator
would snuffle. The victim’s blood would shoot out of the lamia’s
nose, wasting a life and a meal at the same time.
    Shuffling in close, the vampires could
sometimes ‘hear” the thoughts of another, smell their fear. It was
like an aphrodisiac. That was why the Captain stood watch. He had
to protect his men from mistakes made in foolish moments. This was
how the symbiotic relationship with Cilicia and other civilized
lands such as Cayo Hueso began.
    After a very long