The large warship Mobidik approached the port of New York after a long voyage.
The ship’s helm was in the hands of the seasoned captain. He had dedicated his life to his profession. He had long hair, a dark complexion, and was short in stature. His self-assured demeanor made a strong impression on people.
That day, he had written the following in the logbook:
“And today we’re on our way home. We’ve managed to bring the ship safely to New York. It wasn’t easy at all. The north wind is blowing at full force. Sails are set. We’re gliding across the water.”
On deck, the marines—wearing their pale-colored uniforms and looking exhausted—are eating. The lunch menu isn’t exactly a feast: bread, a little wine, and some cheese. These are the leftovers from the long battles. Undoubtedly, the marines deserve more.
After all, they had fought fiercely against three pirate ships and defeated them all. There were casualties, of course; half of the marines had been killed in action. The pirates had boarded the ship and attacked the marines. The marines fought with their last ounce of strength and drove the enemy back into the sea. They had also sunk another pirate ship with cannon fire. Now it was time to return home victorious
Our captain was waiting for his wife to greet him. As he approached the harbor, he could hardly contain his excitement. He looked forward to reaching land with hope and joy.
He had sustained a wound to his left arm, but it wasn’t serious. His arm was bandaged. His muscles were bruised. The ship’s doctor had told him not to worry and had reassured him. Using morphine, he had carefully removed the bullet lodged in his arm and dressed the wound.
He was very resilient; injuries like this couldn’t affect him. He loved life and living very much. Perhaps it was this hope for life and his dreams that had carried him this far, allowing him to survive so many battles.
“We finally made it.”
“I’m so happy—we’re home.”
His eyes searched for his wife. No matter how hard he looked, he couldn’t see her. “I wonder what happened to her,” he worried. What could have happened to her? It had been one year and six months since he last saw her.
-My love, I don’t want you to go this time. A voice inside me tells me I won’t see you again. This feeling is terrible. I’ll miss you so much.
-“My love, I’ll be back safe and sound as soon as possible. I’ll come back. Don’t have any doubts or worries.”
The sky was overcast. There were crowds on the shore, but she wasn’t there. A sense of unease washed over him. Then, an old friend who lived in the same neighborhood as her caught his eye.
-“Hi, Mark. I’m looking for my wife. She didn’t come to meet me.”
-Unfortunately, we lost her during childbirth. You have a son. The baby survived. My wife is taking care of him as if he were her own.
His world came crashing down. He had overcome all those dangers with so much hope and effort, but this victory had eluded him.
No, he’s gone now. Our captain is alone; our captain is helpless.
“How am I going to get through this? God, why did you do this to me?” he cried out. His faith was strong. But this time, he had succumbed to his anger. He had blamed God for his death.
“Stoney, this is your fate. No one can overcome fate. It’s hard, but you’ll come to terms with it in time.”
Our captain began walking toward his home. It was a half-hour walk.
He walked and walked and walked. He didn’t know how to recover from this shock. What advice would you give our hero? Could he start a new life on land with his child?
Sorrow, anguish, and despair were gnawing at his insides. Was that all there was? How often had he dreamed of being reunited with her!
“There are dreams that cannot be taken away.
They cannot be fully expressed.”
And so, his thoughts came to an end. He collapsed to the ground and retreated to a corner.