Sitting on the dock by the bay

Sitting on the dock by the bay

He and Henriot had been working on the old Hungry Clam and progress was already visible. With a repaired roof and walls, and a door that locked, repairs and remodeling could begin in earnest…when Timm had more funds. Almost everything he had earned as part of Survey Team 13 as they were being called now had been spent on supplies, equipment, and labor, but he had another job in a few days and hopefully more funds after that.

Tired from a couple days heavy labor, Timm had felt a soft tickle in the back of his mind. It had been too long since he had been submerged and there were several wrecks from the battles that had happened when Oth first reappeared that he wanted to explore and search for anything valuable. Before he knew it, he was headed towards the water, ready for a swim.

It had been a couple weeks and there was probably nothing of value left, but something drove him forward…curiosity, hunger. Sitting on the edge of the dock at the end of the pier, Timm soaked up the anticipation. He wasn’t exactly sure when but he was already in the water and swimming towards the shipwrecks when his daydreaming subsided.

The sound of creeking hulls cutting through the waters above reminded Timm of whalesong…perhaps that’s why those delicious beasts followed ships crossing the sea he thought as he swam. It was good to be back in Garmon, Timm liked the feel of the place and the opportunities it presented.

Dinner is the only treasure

As he suspected, the wrecks had been thoroughly searched and recovered. It was worth it though, just to get in the water. Luckily for Timm, he had passed a large bed of oysters nestled between two small ridges near the western part of the bay on his way out.

With a large sack full of oysters, Timm knew dinner would be a good one tonight. He’d have to spend a lot of time shucking the oysters, but maybe Gabe would be interested in helping and who knows, he might find a pearl or two.

Lying in his bed, waiting for sleep to overtake him while reflecting on the past few months, Timm was surprised by the giant tentacles reaching up from under the bed and wrapping themselves around him, pulling him down, into the watery depths that was his master’s realm.

A swarm of suckered tentacles, and occasional peek of a large beak, or leering eye was all Timm could discern, even with his ability to see in darkness. It was an overload of motion and parts all swarming together, binding him, pulling him deeper.

Eventually his descent slowed and the largest of the tentacles seemed to recoil and reveal a large eye. Easily wider than Timm was tall, it focused in on him…peering into him.

“You owe me more.  Another life…no, three lives for me…like last time. Make sure they’re young…and evil, if it makes you feel better.”

Timm knew he had no choice but to obey the command. The young part was disturbing, but the boys at the lake, the rapists, they had been young and Timm felt a tinge of regret, but nothing that kept him up at night. What is worse, allowing a rape to happen or not giving a rapist a second chance? He was asleep before he considered it further.

A Long Night

Shaking, a white bubbly foam coming out from his mouth, stinking of whiskey spilt on his cloths, or rags at this point. Timm wasn’t sure what had happened to Armand but he was in bad shape. Not an expert in medicine, slapping his face a few times was all Timm could think of. Armand came to a little and muttered something about salts and purging…or at least Timm was somewhat sure that’s what he said.

Flipping him around and over the old couch that Timm and Henriot had not yet thrown out, Timm kidney punched Armand on both sides. The pained moan, and subsequent vomiting told Timm his goal was successful. Whatever Armand had ingested was no longer in his stomach.

But Armand still didn’t look good. Fucking kids, fucking kids, who knew….fucking kids. Was all he kept saying. Slowly, Armand rocked himself to sleep, while still repeating fucking kids over and over.

Henriot came in a few hours later and seemed to know a thing or two about helping someone come down. From Timm’s experience, Henriot could mix the best hangover cure he had ever tried…hopefully he could help Armand with whatever this was.

Henriot had looked odd when Timm asked him about what he thought Armand meant with the fucking kids comments but claimed to have no idea. Alcoholic for sure, but drug addict as well made Timm a bit nervous about Armand staying at the inn.

What do you think Henriot? I’m not sure I should let him stay here anymore. Timm asked his helper.

Other than be weird, he hasn’t done much. I’ll keep an eye on him. If it turns out bad and you’re not around, I’ll take care of it. Henriot stated coldly and in a lost tone.

Timm looked at Henriot with a bit of concern, In my work a statement like that is very dangerous. I don’t want any blood on my hands…well, any more blood on my hands than I already put there myself.

And then with a smirk, Timm continued, Armand came with the bar. Our drunken, addicted, pathetic bard is part of the team…even if he doesn’t know it and is a pain in the ass. If someone on the team needs to be put down, I’ll do it myself…no real man asks another to settle his debts, to handle his responsibilities. So, thank you for the offer, but don’t ever offer that again…not to me.

Now let’s have a drink and figure out which tavern we shall analyze tonight as part of our research. Timm said as he poured them each a shot and a water back.

Almost Witness

Henriot had tapped out earlier than usual but not so early that it really mattered. Timm was stumbling home occasionally catching the edge of the cobblestone and stumbling a couple paces when the prepubescent voice surprised him.

I’ve got something that can help you with that…sharpen you up, get you home safe and with fewer scratches. Whatya say mister? Wanna get right? Just a couple silver. The kid in the colorful shawl over the tattered clothes asked him, trying to push some drug or something.

Timm gave the kid the no sign and kept walking. Three blocks later something made Timm turn around. The corner where the kid had been was empty, except for a small bundle of something on the ground. Something warm, steaming in the cold night air.

Not normally curious, something drove Timm back to the corner. From a block away he could see the puddle, dark in the nightime spreading out from the bundle on the ground. From the collapsed body that housed the boy who was alive just moments ago. No footsteps in the light dusting of snow, no screams or signs of battle. Just the dead boy…maybe 11 years old. Timm had been around the boys age when his mother had given him away…when he had first set sail on the open sea.

Armand’s babbling fresh in his mind, Timm frisked the still warm body. A small sheeth, probably for a dagger and an empty pouch was all the boy had on him. But something glinted at the base of the building on the other side of the intersection that caught Timm’s attention. Walking over, he found a small vial with a dark liquid in it, or maybe it wasn’t liquid…but it wasn’t solid.

Pocketing the vial Timm quickly moved away from the scene. His footsteps would go for a few blocks before they disappeared. The shadowy figure who had been following him was stumped. The guy had just disappeared.


<Timm’s exploring the wrecks from the ships that sank during the battles that happened when Oth reappeared. Doesn’t find anything valuable in the werckage. Comes back with dinner at least…and maybe a pearl or two. Henriot will catch on to Timm being underwater for hours at a time eventually and Timm will catch on to Henriot's association with the drug world in some manner.  I'm working towards Armand being a talented but tragic figure and Timm coming into conflict with the Bosch guy who is using kids to sell tainted drugs. I plan on Timm and Henriot becoming friends as long as MarkStinson doesn't disagree. I think the guilt Henriot feels about killing the kids is similar to something Timm will have to face or reckon with as a servant of the fathomless and the lives he's been and will be commanded to take.>




    • Mark Stinson

      Mark Stinson does not disagree.  I can see the natural connection and friendship that Henriot and Timm would develop.  Shared grief, guilt, and shame does wonders!  :-)