With
freedom to roam, Bruce started exploring the ‘ship.’ It felt good not to be
confined in his room and as he started walking more he realized that he had
lost some of the muscle tone he’d garnered on the island. The first day we
explored he headed for the fresh air. All the hallways looked exactly the same,
so it took several attempts to actually find the correct door. He didn’t mind
though as he went from hall to hall with matching décor and doors.
By
the time he found the right door he was sorely disappointed to exit and be
barraged with rain. The skies were a deep gray, bordering on black, and the
rain fell in big droplets. He raised his head towards the sky and accepted the
water, but only for about two minutes.
Although
it was raining, it was not cold. That didn’t really phase him until later in
the day when he remembered that is was November, or even December by now. When
he had been on the island he noticed there was a slight changing of the seasons
and in the winter when the rain came down there was a definite chill in the
air. Were they not in the same region as the island he’d been stranded on? Had
this whole thing been a rouse?
That
evening at dinner Bruce asked Stuart if he could check out the maps the next
day. He intimated that he’d always been
interested in geography and looking at the way the world was put together was
fascinating. Stuart agreed and after dinner showed Bruce where the map room
was. They agreed to meet first thing in the morning.
As
Steve put out another amazing dinner of beef stew, buttered noodles, fresh corn
and strawberry shortcake for dessert, Bruce asked, “Do you ever catch and eat
the local fish?”
The
room immediately went bone chilling silent. Steve looked straight at Bruce and
replied, “There are no edible fish within a thousand miles of here. I would
strongly recommend not entering the water as that will be the last thing you
do.”
Bruce
stared back and just said, “Okay.” But his head was spinning. He had lived off
of the fish he’d caught off the island and if what they had told him was true,
it was not over one thousand miles away. So that meant either Steve was lying
to him, or both Jack and Monica had.
He
said his ‘good-nights’ immediately after dinner. After seeing where the map
room was located he made his way back to his room. He paced the room and tried
to piece together all of the information he had at his disposal. He had lied to
Stuart about his love of geography. Truth be told, he couldn’t even tell you
where the seven seas were, much less all of the known islands in their
vicinity. But, he had never heard of dangerous fish in the Atlantic Ocean other
than sharks. Bruce had this sinking feeling in his stomach that this floating
island was nowhere near the Atlantic Ocean.
After
a restless night of very little sleep, Bruce met Stuart in the map room. Lyle was
sitting at a large drafting table with bright lights above it. Stuart explained
that his dad was charting the new course for the next month based upon what
they had already found. Bruce looked at the paper that was spread out and all
he could see were grid lines and blue spots.
“How
do you even know what you’re looking at?” Bruce asked.
Stuart
smiled and answered, “The grid lines are longitude and latitude, and the dots
are either known islands or discovered islands. Although you can’t see it, the
dots actually have numbers and there are corresponding charts of those spots.
Come on over here and I’ll show you.”
They
went over to a smaller table and Stuart pulled out a chart that had an island
shape configured. There were notations of water sources, jungles, vegetation
and inhabitants.
“You
do this for every island out here?”
“Yes,
that’s our job,” Stuart said.
“So
do you have a map that is somewhere in between the one your dad is working on
and the detailed map? You know something that shows the islands in proximity to
other islands and large land masses.”
“Sure,”
Stuart said, “Let me get one for you.”
As
Stuart laid out the map Bruce had requested, it was apparent that they were not
in the Atlantic Ocean. He tried to determine the exact location, but when he
saw the word ‘Brazil’ on both the left and right, he began to feel woozy.
Stuart grabbed him just before he hit the floor.
Bruce
opened his eyes and saw a bright light shining. “Ah, good, you’re back amongst
the living.”
Steve
was leaning over him with a miniature flashlight. “Can you follow my finger
with your eyes?” Bruce did as he was
asked. “Good, now can you sit up?” Bruce attempted to sit up.
“What
happened?” Bruce asked.
“You
passed out,” Steve said. “But none of us can figure out why.”
Bruce’s
eyes swept the room and did not see anyone else there besides Steve. “Are you a
doctor?”
“Yes
sir.”
“But
you’re the cook.”
“That’s
only because no one else on this contraption can cook worth crap. I got tired
of eating barely passable food, so I volunteered. Best decision I’ve made.”
Bruce
blinked a few times and then asked, “Steve, where are we?”
“The
Amazon river.”
Bruce
gasped. “Why would Monica and Jack tell me that we were in the Atlantic Ocean
if we aren’t?”
“Can’t
answer you on that one,” Steve replied. “But what I can tell you is that you
can trust me and that if you need straight answers just ask.”
“Thanks,”
Bruce said. “I thought I could trust everyone, but obviously I was wrong.” He stopped
and thought before asking the next question. “What are we really doing here?”
