Free The Brothel Creeper: Stories of Sexual and Spiritual Tension by Rhys Hughes Page B

nonsense, trying fretfully to distract themselves.
    “What were you discussing before my arrival?” asked Elena.
    “About drifting south,” said Pedro.
    “To an entirely frozen continent,” explained Carlos.
    “I’ve never seen ice,” lamented Luana.
    “I did once,” insisted Isabel.
    Henrietta sniggered. “But you’re a liar. Even Jason admits that. How can a ghost ship be found under the sea? Phantoms vessels don’t sink! They float on the surface like normal ships.”
    “Global warming,” said Fábio. “Rising sea levels.”
    “How does that help?” asked Giovana.
    It was Sergio who answered. “Maybe in the past the ghost ship sailed on the surface but over time the water has gone higher while the ship stayed on its original level, so it only seems to be travelling beneath the waves. That’s the most watertight explanation.”
    “Have sea levels risen so much?”
    “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about!”
    “How dare you disparage me?”
    “But I never even said that I saw a ghost ship! I said that I saw a sunken lost continent on the seabed.”
    “Like Atlantis, you mean?”
    “Not like Atlantis. I believe that it was Atlantis!”
    “From the inside of a barrel!”
    “You’re just jealous…”
    It was time for him to reveal his idea, Jason decided, before the moment was buried alive under the weight of petty recriminations. So he clapped his hands, his peeling palms attracting more attention with the resultant spray than with the pitifully thin sound.
    “Listen to me! We need to change our direction fast, but as the current is against us, we should huddle close and paddle all together. If we drift too far apart we’ll drown one at a time.”
    “He still wants to build a raft,” confided Henrietta.
    “Out of bodies?” gasped Pedro.
    “Why not?” blurted Jason. “It’s our only hope!”
    “All of us?” asked Elena.
    “I like the concept,” said Carlos.
    “Won’t it feel like an orgy?” wondered Isabel.
    “This is scarcely a time for prudishness! You must understand that we’re in a terrible situation,” said Jason.
    “So that’s your solution!” smirked Sergio.
    “Only firm leadership can possibly save us now. I was the captain of the boat when it was intact, so it’s obvious I’m the best qualified to take charge again. Will you obey my orders?”
    “Why should we listen to anything you say?” hissed Henrietta. “After all, you were the one stupid enough to buy a useless yacht. How can we elect as captain a man who does that?”
    “It was a bargain,” cried Jason, “and with so many people hidden inside, I’m surprised it floated at all!”
    “Why did it break so rapidly?” asked Isabel.
    “Rotten timbers,” said Carlos.
    “It has always seemed weird to me,” mused Luana, “that sailors stand on wooden boats but never take into account the feelings of the trees that were killed to make the planks.”
    “That’s not weird,” objected Fábio.
    “The opposite is unthinkable!” laughed Pedro. “Would you prefer trees to stand on boats made out of people?”
    “Bones are strong enough to suit admirably as a construction material, as a matter of fact,” said Roberto.
    “What a grotesque idea!” chided Elena.
    “Please stop squabbling!” shouted Jason. “This banter won’t help us! Will you accept me as your captain?”
    “Depends on where you will take us.”
    “To São Tomé. Where else? I want to have severe words with the rascal who sold me that floating coffin, that deathtrap! The island is the only solid ground remotely attainable.”
    “Can we paddle so far? With bare hands!”
    Jason licked his lips. “I’m certain Henrietta will be willing to donate her satin dress for use as a sail. And if we ruin it on the way, she’ll be free to buy a replacement in the market.”
    “I didn’t buy it there,” repeated Henrietta.
    “So where did you buy it?”
    “Nowhere. I didn’t buy it at all,” she said.
    “What does that