the captain
What is it like to let somebody go?
(The original story is in Italian, this version has been translated using DeepL and then manually revised)
the story
“Tell me what you see.”
The child was sitting at the side of the pond. The spring wind was moving the leaves of the trees and rippling the surface of the water. It was a bright day, but a small cloud had just covered the sun, and immediately the air grew colder, perhaps nostalgic for the winter that had just ended. A toy boat floated a few meters from the shore, its hull rocked violently by the waves.
“The sky is dark, the sea is churning. I can taste the storm in my bones,” replied the little captain standing on the bow with his gaze fixed on the horizon, “I am not afraid. I know my ship, its every movement tells me about the water and the wind. She is not afraid.” The captain stood there, all strutting. The blue paint on his wooden jacket was weathered. His once rosy skin now showed the wood grain, like deep wrinkles that had waited years to show themselves to the world.
The child was curious. He had never seen the sea, never seen that look.
“Why did you choose the sea?”
“I was young, the world seemed too small. All my brothers at the store were talking about war, talking about love. What did we know about love? There we were, between those four walls, sitting on those ornate furniture discussing what it meant to live. But I was looking further, wanting to know what was beyond the reflections in that window. What else could I look for but the sea? To see the horizon and know that the world had no boundaries, the only limit was how far I could go.”
“And how far did you get?” the child asked again.
Silence. The captain looked at the horizon, motionless. He thought he saw a sparkle in the painted eyes, perhaps a tear.
A sudden wave crashed over the side of the ship, going over the rail and sweeping over the deck. The captain was still standing, covered in water, heedless of the elements. Perhaps it was not just a small passing cloud. Large gray mounds were moving carried by the wind and the blue escaped to the horizon.
“The storm is coming, it’s just a matter of time. Do you feel that energy? Do you feel the electricity in the air of lightning waiting to strike? Feel the chill. I have spent so many years on this ship. I have spent so many years with this ship. Our wood is old, our paint is peeling. Who knows how many more storms we can face together. One day the last wave will hit us. Sometimes I stop to reflect and wonder if I would rather sink and sink into the mud of the seabed or float adrift and feel the peace of the sun warm what is left of my body.”
The wind was blowing harder and harder. The tree tops were moving angrily. The child wrapped his arms around his knees, trying to retain some of his warmth as he continued to listen raptly to the captain.
“That’s why I chose the sailor’s life in the end. Look at me, the icy water of the sea lashes my face. My ship groans, the planks crack, but we are here, standing and floating, as long as we have the strength.”
“But it’s dangerous. I can take you home with me. I can even take the little boat with you! We could enjoy the sunshine from the living room. I’ll introduce you to my toy soldiers, and whenever you want we can fill the bathtub with hot water and play together. It will be fine!”
The captain smiled sadly without looking away from the horizon.
“You tell me about the warmth of your home and the comforts of your bathroom. You ask me to give up my life, to stop wondering what answers and what happiness lies beyond the horizon. You tell me you can take me where the water is no longer a danger, where the wind is the breeze coming in through the windows. You tell me to declare myself defeated, to accept that the world is too much for me. Ah child. I wish I were the captain who is ready to accept your proposal…”
Another wave hit the little boat, which was now swaying uncontrollably, risking capsizing with every movement. The captain was on his knees, his hands still clasped on the rudder trying to find the strength to get up and look to the future.
“I wish I could tell you that I don’t have the strength to go on. I wish I could leave it all behind, accept that life is a thing of the past and sit on the edge of your bathtub with warm water lapping at my feet. Where the only danger is being forgotten.”
The sky was black. The last wave must have opened a hole in the keel of the slowly sinking ship.
“Captain! Let me help you!” shouted the child leaning out from the shore stretching his hand toward the little boat.
“Don’t fret about me. Go back home. Watch the storm from your bedroom window sitting next to your toy soldiers. Tomorrow, with the sun, come back here. Look for what’s left of my blue jacket. If you find it, take it with you and tell them how the story of the great captain who wanted to discover the world ended. If you do not find it, however, you will know that that story is not over yet, and one day at a sea port you will see my faithful little boat and I will tell you what lies beyond the horizon.”
One last wave engulfed the ship, and before he could see whether the hull and its captain would resurface, the child looked away. He got up quickly and headed home without looking back at the pond. The howling of the wind covered every other noise.