Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-31790225-20180905202246/@comment-36393004-20180905203948

The Demon Tobit of Delphia

"

Two weeks later I was sitting at a street café with my friend Sergio. Sergio's father owned a yacht, and since our first day of college together, Serge and I had spoken non-stop about taking that yacht out on the open waters. Sailing from the Gulf of Mexico, down the coast of South America, and then back again.

"So, is your dad really going to go for it, Serge?"

"Yep, we graduated on time, with the right GPA. That was his end of the deal. I asked him last night, and after he studied over my transcripts for about an hour, he agreed that we could take the boat out for our cruise."

This was to be our defining moment. Right after college but before going into the work force. Our last chance to be crazy kids before settling down into a lifetime of pushing papers and being adults.

We pulled out our map and began to plot our course again for the millionth time. The boat was docked in Biloxi, MS. We would leave there and just sail south. We had enough supplies locked down to make the trip a breeze. We had all the right port cities marked off to stop at and party. This was going to be an amazing journey.

We both stocked up on personal items. I brought my portable gaming devices and plenty of batteries. Of course we both had our cameras. Serge was more of a reader, and he stocked up on large novels and other books. Most were just the standard Stephen King type books; however, one he had to go to a special book store in the French Quarter, called Esoterica, and order.

I only saw the book once before we set sail. It was a paperback, nothing fancy; however, it had no title, no author, nothing on the spine. I asked him what it was for, and he responded that it was,

"For the journey."

He wouldn't go any further about it, and honestly I really didn't care. The only thing on my mind at that time was setting sail.

Three days later we were sitting at a Starbucks in downtown Biloxi, waiting on the call from the marina. Serge's dad had hired a professional crew to ensure that every inch of the boat was in top notch condition. Serge was being strangely quiet for once. He was writing numbers on his napkin. I asked him what was up, and he just shrugged, told me he was thinking, and promptly tossed the napkin in the trash.

Shortly afterwards, we received a call from the dock crew, telling us that our yacht was all set. We had left our cars in a pay-lot for safe keeping in Biloxi, and would pick them up in about five weeks, when the round trip was complete.

Upon arrival at the marina, we loaded up our personal belongings, conducted a quick safety brief with the dock crew, checked our essentials one last time, and finally, after four years of waiting and talking, we set sail.

To tell a little about this yacht, it was pretty much a floating house. Needless to say, Serge's dad was rich. We both had private bedrooms on this boat; it had a fully functional kitchen, a 62" television with a mounted satellite for all the channels, all the gaming consoles on the market, tons of food, and a respectable amount of emergency supplies. We had dried rations similar to military MRE's and enough bottled water to drown a whale."

This story: "

Two weeks later I was sitting at a street café with my friend Sam. Sam's father owned a yacht, and since our first day of college together, Sam and I had spoken non-stop about taking that yacht out on the open waters. Sailing from the Gulf of Mexico, down the coast of South America, and then back again.

"So, is your dad really going to go for it, Sam?"

"Yep, we graduated on time, with the right GPA. That was his end of the deal. I asked him last night, and after he studied over my transcripts for about an hour, he agreed that we could take the boat out for our cruise."

This was to be our defining moment. Right after college but before going into the work force. Our last chance to be crazy kids before settling down into a lifetime of pushing papers and being adults.

We pulled out our map and began to plot our course again for the millionth time. The boat was docked in Biloxi, MS. We would leave there and just sail south. We had enough supplies locked down to make the trip a breeze. We had all the right port cities marked off to stop at and party. This was going to be an amazing journey.

We both stocked up on personal items. I brought my portable gaming devices and plenty of batteries. Of course we both had our cameras. Sam was more of a reader, and he stocked up on large novels and other books. Most were just the standard Stephen King type books; however, he goes to the New York Public Library and buys whatever he can get his hands on. Until he got a strange book I never knew about.

I only saw the book once before we set sail. It was a paperback, nothing fancy; however, it had no title, no author, nothing on the spine. I asked him what it was for, and he responded that it was, For the journey.

He wouldn't go any further about it, and honestly I really didn't care. The only thing on my mind at that time was setting sail.

Three days later we were sitting at a Starbucks in 80 Delancey Street, waiting on the call from the marina. Sam's dad had hired a professional crew to ensure that every inch of the boat was in top notch condition. Sam was being strangely quiet for once. He was writing numbers on his napkin. I asked him what was up, and he just shrugged, told me he was thinking, and promptly tossed the napkin in the trash.

Shortly afterwards, we received a call from the dock crew, telling us that our yacht was all set. We had left our cars in a pay-lot for safe keeping, and would pick them up in about five weeks, when the round trip was complete.

Upon arrival at the marina, we loaded up our personal belongings, conducted a quick safety brief with the dock crew, checked our essentials one last time, and finally, after four years of waiting and talking, we set sail.

To tell a little about this yacht, it was pretty much a floating house. Needless to say, Sam's dad was rich. We both had private bedrooms on this boat; it had a fully functional kitchen, a 62" television with a mounted satellite for all the channels, all the gaming consoles on the market, tons of food, and a respectable amount of emergency supplies. We had dried rations similar to military MRE's and enough bottled water to drown a whale."