The ship rocked back and forth along the surface of the deep blue water, sea foam rubbing at its sides. The sky was the perfect shade of navy blue to match the bright stars hidden by the threatening clouds overhead, slowly but surely approaching. A storm was soon to come, but the crew didn't think anything of it as they made an announcement on the comm to the passengers aboard their ship.

Inside the cockpit, two men rested for the stormy evening - Captain Jamison Jarmain, along with his co-captain and second hand Lieutenant Murph ‘Murphy’ Richards. Both men sat lazily as they watched the storm heading towards them through the round windows above the desk. Jarmain rocked back and forth in his seat, while Murph sat with his head resting on his fist, trying not to doze off. 

“Ya got a neck,” said Jamison as he swiveled his head towards his counterpart, “or is your head that heavy with stones?”

Murph twitched awake with a small ‘uff’ as he stiffened his back in his chair. He let out a displeased grunt and rubbed the exhaustion out of his eyes.

“You just think you're so damn funny,” Murph huffed at his captain, to which he chuckled. 

“Funnier than you at least.”

Murphy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, looking away from his captain. “Hey, c'mon, lighten up. You know I’m just playin’ with you,'' spoke Jamison. 

The only thing catching Murphy’s attention at this point were the waves crashing against the poor, squeaky windows. He had never hoped that they would break and that the salty water would drown him to death - until now. 

Murphy didn’t have much of an issue with the captain, or Sir Jarmain as he liked to call him. He actually had quite the opposite of an issue. Murphy pretended to be cold and bitter towards Jarmain, but as he lay in his bunker at night, he wished he could treat his captain with the same tender care that his wife did.

“The fuck is wrong with ya? Hello? I said I ain’t mean it, don’t take it that deep,” said Sir Jarmain, standing up mid sentence to walk behind Murphy’s chair and put his hands on his shoulders from behind. “Earth to Zounderkite over here,” he cackled to himself, laughing at his own joke. 

This quickly caused Murphy to readjust himself in his chair, straightening his spine and tilting his black felt sailor’s cap to cover the rosy pink blush developing across his nose and cheeks. He cleared his throat before rolling his shoulders and brushing the captain’s hands away. “Leave me alone, please, sir,” spoke Murph as he cleared his throat once again out of nervousness. “Just thinking about my bed, and the thunder, that’s all.”

“That’s all, eh?” snickered Jamison. “Damn better be. Don’t need my helper boy to be dreamin’ off in the pit thinking about some slag he’s planning on inviting to quarters tonight.” 

“What! I- Captain!” he stumbled and whipped his head around with a panicked and embarrassed look on his face. If he thought he was blushing before, it was nothing compared to now. “That is most inappropriate!”

“I’m kidding!” Jarmain belted out through a laugh. He thought he was the funniest man in the world. “You’ve got no sense of humor, boy. You make it so easy,” he chuckled with a smile as he slapped his big palm down on Murphy’s hat, roughing up the hair underneath it. 

The captain sighed and made his way back to his chair with a smile full of pride. 

Murphy peered over at him from under the brim of his cap, cheeks still as red as ripe berries. He felt conflicted as to what he should do. He couldn’t reveal his feelings, as Jarmain had a wife, and was almost certain not to feel the same way. Flirting was off the charts - Murphy was the first to admit he was too much of a coward. Maybe just try to be nice? Perhaps, but he would rather die than be a kiss-ass to the already pompous captain. Ignoring his feelings seemed to be the best option. 

Murph turned his head to look back longingly at the monstrous waves crashing against the window once more. The things he does - or doesn't do - for love.

It had been twenty years since the then-young Murph boarded that ship as the co-captain. As he walked down the cold autumn streets of Manhattan, he tucked his hands into his brand new trench coat, blowing warm air out of his mouth and watching it turn to vapor in the air. He smiled to himself like a crazy person as he did this twice, just to provoke a chuckle from himself. The sound of his black boots against the pavement brought him back to reality, as he checked both ways for cars before he made his way across the New York City streets.

It has also been twenty years since the boat sank because of a small accident that could have been easily avoided. Murph’s blamed himself for it ever since.

He will never forget the panicked and confused screams of the passengers coming from the dining hall as it flooded with water, only then realizing the grandiosity of his mistake. He turned around to make eye contact with his Captain, who was just as scared as he was. Murphy wished he could take it from him - the pain and fear that he caused. But all he could do was watch as Jarmain’s face transformed into one of solemn determination. 

He especially will never forget being on the deck of the ship as he tried to get everyone off safely, to the best of his ability. He would usher women and children into lifeboats first, all while holding a child that was abandoned in the heat of the moment by their family. He remembered his eyes being clouded with both rain and tears as he was told to give the child to someone by the familiar voice behind him. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood as he turned to his beloved, his captain. 

“You're doing a great job, Murphy,” yelled Jarmain over the chaos. He put his hands on the younger’s shoulders to bring him in closer. “You're doing everything you can. Get on the lifeboat, boy. I will… I’ll see you on the other side!”

“You're lying!” Murphy yelled through tears, his throat molten with anger and sadness. “Come with me! There’s - there's more than enough space on that one, sir! You can’t… you can’t leave me…” He trailed off before feeling a callused palm hold his cheek with a gentleness like none he had ever felt. 

“I have got to stay here, Murph. You did everything,” the captain said, looking down at him. He pushed Murph’s wet bangs away from his face to look at him directly. “I'm so proud of you. You’re going to go on to do big things for me, Murph.” The captain caressed his cheekbone with his thumb before taking a pause and giving the boy a once over. He pulled away and finally disappeared into the din. 

Murph stood there in disbelief as he watched Jarmain walk away from him, only to get swarmed by scared and confused passengers. He looked at the lifeboat next to him that contained one last open seat. With one more glance through the rain, he realized that that was the last he would ever see of the captain.

Murphy was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice he had already arrived at the cemetery. He adjusted the collar of his coat with the same lanky hand that held a small bouquet of lavender flowers.

He made his way through the twisty cemetery roads until he reached the destination he had been to so many times before. He paused to read the beautiful marbled headstone that housed the man whom he loved so many years ago. 

JAMISON JARMAIN

BELOVED SON, HUSBAND, AND FRIEND.

OCT. 14TH 1870 - APRIL 27TH 1911

“BLESSED ARE THOSE WHO HUNGER

AND THIRST FOR RIGHTEOUSNESS.”

He got down onto his knee to wipe the crusted mud from the bottom of the grave. Letting out a sigh, he looked through his card just to make sure he got the day right. He laid his flowers gently on the edge of the grave to rest and match the gifts that were laid out there already. He was happy that his captain had so many people who loved him. He put the card in the envelope and tucked it under everything else that lay there. He took a few more minutes to admire the presents before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a match, preparing for his journey home.

As he walked out of the twisting cemetery, he could think of nothing else but the card he had written to his captain.

Dear Beloved,

Happy birthday. I hope you are celebrating as much as I know you would love to. I bet the angels are playing the sweetest of songs for you on your special day, because I know I would. You are the bravest man I have ever known, and you remain my first love to this day. I miss you so much, Captain. If you’re looking down, I hope you are proud of me. 

Much love and gratitude, 

Murphy Richards