Captain S. Seldne

Captain S. Seldne ordered his crew to stop in the offing and marched onto the deck, as he always did before solemnly addressing the crowd. The air had suddenly grown heavy, and Captain Seldne glowed at each of his “comrades,” as he liked to call them. The unabashed display of triumph before the triumph ever came. Those who had stayed with him were accustomed to this, however. The old seamen watched the captain amusedly, wondering how he would begin the tale this time. It was interesting, the way he rambled on about the Gatorade.

The fog had dissipated, and the gentle breeze brushed the unkempt hair of Seldne, rendering him somewhat of an eccentric-looking, rugged man. He surveyed his crew once again and said,

“This is it, comrades. We’re almost there, the place where awaits the greatest treasure of age,” he said gravely, yet the gravity that he seemed to instill in the young blood only uplifted their spirits. The sailors hurrahed and were ecstatic. 

“Another one of his failed enterprises,” Old Jack the helmsman muttered and spat into the sea. Joe Asimov nodded in agreement and chuckled. It was too true. Sometimes they even suspected that it was a tale woven by Seldne to encourage the men who had to traverse the vast stretch of sea before them, when the fun of the pirates wore off quickly after each raid. The ship always stopped by one of these islands on their way to England. “Confound it, I really would be pleased to lay hold of the map.”

Yeah, the map, that was the only issue with their conspiracy theory besides Seldne’s show of enthusiasm for the Gatorade. The map Seldne took out sometimes and perused over in his cabin as if there were some great clues he hadn’t discovered yet. Asimov had caught him examining it with his monocle several times on his way to the galley, and he was itching to get a glimpse of the map. He tried hot, however, not to think about it because every time he did, the same surge of inexplicable excitement that he had long suppressed would creep back. The sensation never seemed to die down, which was ridiculous given how many times Seldne himself had failed to find the treasure. The map reminded Asimov of the first voyage he took with Seldne and the enchanting tale of the Gatorade. The plundering, ransacking, and watching the passengers walk the plant had grown stale for Asimov, but the mystery of the Gatorade still puzzled him to this day. Which was why he had stayed with Seldne. Damn that man, he thought. Only if I could lay hold of that piece of parchment.

∞

Tom Jones and a group of new hands stood in awe as Captain Seldne’s tale unfolded and put them in a trance. When they camped at the edge of the island that night Jones had to fight off the urge to sneak into the heart of the island and dig for the treasure. He fantasized himself excavating the hidden grave of Gatorade the Great and smuggling the treasure back before everyone woke up at dawn, having no idea that he, the least experienced pirate whom Captain Seldne had taken up a few months ago, had discovered the treasure long coveted by all of the sailors. And he knew that with the Gatorade he could return triumphant to his town and be praised for his intrepid spirits. Not the coward the crew still called him because he hadn’t slain a passenger yet. He was not a coward. He despised and took no liking to any of them except for Captain Seldne. The sailors on board were all low-down, but he, Tom Jones, had aspirations like Captain Seldne. He yearned for fame and glory, not mere wealth. Although he still wasn’t sure what the Gatorade was, besides it being a mythical treasure, he knew one day Captain Seldne would entrust him with the secret of the Gatorade. No matter how long it would take, Tom Jones would stick with Captain Seldne and alongside him explore the countless islands over the boundless sea for the Gatorade.

∞

Captain Seldne watched the crew loom in and out of the shadow of the forest, their joyous shouts shaking the earth. He was always amazed by the enthusiasm the sailors, especially the new recruits, showed the day after they reached one of the deserted islands he had picked. He loved 

He wanted to find the Gatorade. He must have pored over the tiny piece of parchment a thousand times ever since he found it two decades ago. He knew where the treasure was, and he was obsessed to find it, to hold the Gatorade that he had dreamed of finding for so long. He remembered distinctly the night he had deciphered the secret that would lead him to the Gatorade, the night however that he had the epiphany, or the nightmare. The realization that his obsession would end there, upon finding the Gatorade. And what would he do then? He burned the parchment and copied the map onto a new piece of parchment, only with the wrong information. No, he already had the correct map by heart, and he was determined to keep it, conceal it from all the others. The Gatorade was his alone, and he would not have it discovered. Not even by himself.

If there was ever a mythical treasure that really existed apart from the Gatorade, he wouldn’t care for it at all. One was enough. For him, the almighty Captain S. Seldne who had murdered many and lost his innocence long ago, there was only hope that he could continue to be doing what he had been doing and not lapse into repenting for forgiveness. He knew where the Gatorade was, but he dared not find it. 

As he watched one of the new sailors run toward him, he smirked and hailed the man. Good boy, he thought. That was why he never unearthed the Gatorade in the first place. The Gatorade wasn’t mythical at all, believe it. It was the embodiment of a goal, something that once you attained everything would be lost instead.