Johnny always hate this day with passion that intrigues his mother, he wish father is alive to see what mum has become. He donned his old hat stubbornly, and hid his hands in the pockets of his oversized pant. Night has come; annoying Harold is coming over for his usual two week vacation. Johnny hissed with disgust, the hatred between him and his stepfather Harold is no secret at all. True to heaven he wished his mother joy in the arms of another man, after nearly five years father has been dead; but not in the arms of this brute of a man.
Harold is the last man he would ever wish for his mother, not only is he brute and dangerous, his nefarious reputation fly before him on falcon's wings. Is it the entire family he butchered in Texas, in this bloody war? Or the innocent boys and girls he drowned at sea for just being children of the 'enemy' of the federation? These are just few of his ghoulish atrocities he has been perpetrating. Johnny felt an itch on his back, but was afraid to scratch, not with the ghastly scar there Harold has left on him. In frisson of fury Johnny kicked off the bucket of water before him, and cursed furiously. Mother did not care about all these, "Though Harold might be a brute Johnny boy," she would say, "but he put food on our table in this hard time."
Johnny spat out, "To hell with his food and money!" He shouted into the empty air, immediately Jane came out of cottage shouting, "Watch your language Johnny and put your temper in check!"
"Get the hell back inside, will ya!" He shouted back at his little sister and left the balcony. Just then they heard sound of arriving couch, Jane immediately dashed out to welcome their mother; while Johnny stood at the door-post, his arms folded stubbornly across his chest gawking disdainfully at the arriving Harold.
"Hello Johnny boy! I sure hope you've outgrown your silliness lad." Harold cackled wickedly, loosing his sword belt and gun holster. Johnny was about to retort sharply, if not for the restraining stare from his mother. He stomped away angrily, he has his own plan, and no one will stop him.
It was early in the morning on the fateful day Johnny was to carry out his plan. People were still rousing in West Virginia, but John was up and readied, being the morning of eighth day of month June 1849. He sneaked into his mother bedroom, where she and Harold laid snoring, and tucked a note on the stool next to his sleeping mother and sneaked out of the house into the early morning of the breaking day.
Since he was a toddler his love for seafaring has been obvious, twice he had travelled across the sea with his father, some years back. Now at the age of thirteen, the desire for sea adventure has been overwhelming him. As luck will have it, Captain Jackson, a famous sea adventurer and merchant, has given him the golden opportunity of becoming a sea adventurer himself and this Johnny dare not miss.
The captain and his crew were waiting expectantly for little Johnny by the time he got to the shore. Gleefully and with warm welcome they took the eager lad onboard the vessel.
Two days on the sea Johnny has completely forgotten his domestic miseries, having been enjoying the voyage thoroughly. But on the third day, sailing across the Atlantic Ocean, death struck from the blue. The ocean went tempestuous, mountain high waves after waves hauling and splashing furiously on them; their ship caught in the fury of the tempest.
For two days and nights the tempest gave them no respite, their ship heaving and knocking about furiously in the tempest. John felt like the Biblical Jonah, nothing nervous Jack did could unnerve nervous Johnny. In fear of their breaking ship, Captain Jack gave the order to abandon the badly marred ship on sighting land about a thousand miles away.
The storm dashed their ship to pieces, throwing everyone into the furious ocean. John was a good swimmer back home, but here in the furious deadly cold ocean he knew his skills in water are useless. He fought furiously to keep to the surface of the water, waves after waves burying him twenty to thirty below the water surface; tossing him about furiously like a hapless doll in the midst of mountainous waves. He struggled to stay alive for thirty minutes, before he gave up hope of surviving. He was drowning, this he knew but could do nothing than resigned to death; going down and down the bottom of the ocean.
In his dying state someone came to his rescue, someone or something; swimming away with him from the tempest. The speed of which his rescuer is taking he knew no ordinary swimmer could. Perhaps like the biblical Jonah God has destined him to end up in the belly of a big fish, only to spit him out at the feet of his enemy Harold, with his whip of thorns snaking through the air hitting his delicate flesh repeatedly; his tormentor revealing his jagged teeth in brute pleasure as he yell in pain. Mercifully though, he could feel no powerful jaws clamping down on him, so this is no fish, but whatever it is he is its' for the taking. So he resigned to the power of his captor, mist of haze clouded his eyes and took him away from consciousness.
He must have passed out for hours; when he regained consciousness he tried to flap hands, but all he could felt was the sand and water all around him. He coughed out water repeatedly, and tried opening his eyes against the rays of the sun. When he succeeded in opening his eyes, lo, he saw the most beautiful thing nursing him, a girl of eleven perhaps.
He sat up with a jerk, amazed and enchanted by this smiling damsel. She touched his brow in mild affection, it was then John noticed her webbed fingers. Alarm turns into curiosity, John opened his sight widely and saw the glory of the female creature sitting beside him nursing him. Golden fins lined her left and right sides, awe-struck John looked for her feet, but all he saw was the glory of a great golden fish; shinning with such radiant that completely left the lad in enchantment.
"Hey Johnny, are you alright lad!" Captain Jack called out loudly, running down to the beach with the survived members of his crew.
The golden damsel hastily gave Johnny a noisy mild kiss and whispered, "Farewell Johnny." Immediately she withdrew back into the sea.
"Who was that Johnny?" Jack asked in curiosity, covering up the lad with dried cloth. "I... I don't know captain, a strange sea rescuer ... my strange sea rescuer."
Samuel Akinola is a gifted writer, novelist/poet, graphic artist and called into an office of Prophet. He has written many articles, books, and novels. He lives in Nigeria, working passionately for Christ