The Defiance on Main Street

If there was one thing with which Kai St. James was blessed, it was a vivid imagination. Sadly, it was also his curse. The medication helped, when he took it, of course. He had been vigilant, for a time, but found that whatever it was they had him take was dulling his other senses. Food tasted bland, sounds seemed muffled, and scents carried no aroma. It had been nearly a week since his last dose, and he was finally beginning to feel like himself again.

Part of him felt guilty. After the last time he had been admitted, involuntarily, Kai had promised his sister that he would stay on his meds this time. Honestly he didn't understand why everyone was so concerned. It wasn't as if he'd ever hurt anyone, or himself for that matter. Of course, the condition that caused his overactive imagination also prohibited him from understanding the reality and consequences of his actions. Sarah had to remind him repeatedly of the time they had gone to dinner and he drifted into his subconscious, believing he was a magician. Thankfully the restaurant opted not to press charges, despite the fact that his pull-the-tablecloth-out-from-under-the-dishes trick had launched the small oil lamp at the center of the table into a nearby curtain and caught it on fire.

Sarah was a good sister. She had always been there to look out for him, and stood by him even when their parents refused. They could only tolerate Kai when he was medicated, never fully grasping the irony of the fact that they themselves were unbearable alcoholics. By and large, though, Kai's episodes had grown fewer and farther in between as he grew older. He had, of course, been medicated most of that time. At the age of thirty-six, he'd had only one in the last seven months. Until now.

Kai sat in his downtown, Main Street office and typed away. Though his employers were fully aware of his condition, they readily tolerated Kai's idiosyncrasies. He was the best, and fastest, type-editor they had, and that was a gift a small publishing house couldn't turn down. Kai was engrossed in his work when he heard it the first time. It took only a moment once he heard it again, and he was gone.

The wind was blustering as the result of a strong storm system moving up the coast, and the old building in which he worked danced to its song. With every gust the windows would creak and, on the twelfth floor where he sat, the building exhibited a noticeably perceptible sway. Kai felt it, and could feel himself slipping away. He fought it, briefly, before succumbing.

There was no telling how long his eyes had been closed. When they opened again, gone were the computer, his desk, and the stark, artificial fluorescent lighting.  The sway and creak came not from steel and glass, but instead from strong oak and leaded iron. No longer did he rock in his leather desk chair, but rather in a braided rope hammock strong between two deck supports of the sailing barque to which he'd transported himself.

The scent in the air transcended from that of stale coffee and paper products to aged rum and lamp oil. Kai smiled. He'd always wanted to be a pirate and could barely contain his excitement as he leaped from his hammock and made his way to the deck.

"Good morning, Mr. St. James."

"Morning, Captain," Kai replied. Kai found himself standing beside the captain at the wheel and breathed in the salty sea air. "Beautiful day to sail, isn't it sir?"

"It is indeed, Kai."

The two men stood silently for several minutes. A slight sea spray washed over their faces as they cut across the rolling sea. A group of dolphins had accompanied them briefly, frolicking happily alongside the ship. The setting was ideal.

"So where are we headed today, Captain?" Kai asked.

"To the Spires, my boy. To the Spires."

Kai grinned. The Spires were a series of small islands, each of which contained at its center a tall rock formation that appeared as if wet sand had been poured from the sky and hardened. The Spires were a pirate's dream, for beneath each spire were catacombs that stretched fare below the surface. They were the perfect place for stowing their spoils of the sea, and the islands' harbors and shallows made hiding for indefinite periods of time quite easy. The local inhabitants had welcomed the pirates' gifts of gold, leather wares and spiced rum, and in turn had allowed the scoundrels to go about their business unmolested.

Captain Farnsworth and the crew of the Defiance made their camp on a mid-sized island they called Hacket's Cross. Named for the city in southern Ireland where the captain was born, the small land mass also resembled a cross with two peninsulas jutting out from the center of the long, narrow island. On the eastern side the once violent seas had carved a niche in the side of the spire, providing the perfect cove in which to hide the Defiance from prying eyes.

The wind had kicked up and there were making good time, nearly eight knots. Kai closed his eyes again and just listened to the sound of the creaking rigging and the sea. It was music to Kai, sweet, sweet music. Before he knew it the sails were being hoisted and the captain deftly guided the Defiance to its dock in the shadow of the Hacket's Cross spire.

"It's time to shake off our sea legs and enjoy some down time, my friend," the captain said to him. "Come Kai, the time for celebration is at hand."

Kai followed obediently down the gang plank as makeshift rope and wooden cranes lifted barrels and crates from the ship's hold behind him. He was about to follow the captain into the catacombs when he saw her and stopped dead.

Her dark, island skin reflected the afternoon sun. Had he not known better Kai would have sworn she glowed from within. The long, chestnut hair that flowed down across her shoulders showed highlights of blonde, no doubt caused by the bleaching of the Caribbean sun. Each of her wrists and ankles were adorned with bracelets fashioned from Spanish gold coins. It was her eyes, as dark as coffee, that enticed him first. The curvature of her ample breasts, straining against the tanned leather halter she wore, certainly didn't detract from her natural beauty.

"Welcome back, Kai," she said with a smile as she approached him. Kai grinned broadly as he stepped towards her welcomingly outstretched arms.

"Kai," she repeated. "Kai!" she said again this time raising her voice slightly. It was of no use. His eyes had glassed over and Kayla, one of his fellow editors, knew he'd gone to wherever it was he went. Kayla just shook her head. She had crushed on Kai as long as she'd worked there, though his condition allowed him to neither understand her affection nor accept it.

"One of these days," Kalya whispered as she leaned in across Kai's desk. In doing so she had been sure that her blouse shifted enough to provide Kai an eyeful, just in case. "One of these days I'm going to break through to you, Mr. St. James, and you'll never have to fantasize again."

Kai made no response and continued to stare ahead blankly. Dejected, yet determined, Kayla left Kai's office and closed the door quietly behind her.

© JJ Goodman 2013. All rights reserved.