The Hatchback

It's the funeral and It’s dusk, the sky is blacker than what any of the gods have agreed to be reasonable for the time. Can you blame them? The ocean is gone. How can the sky gleefully soak up sashire shades? When the Hatchback is dead.

Submarines glide on salt, daring gravity to show her hand, while ships carved beyond the work of any man sail the skies and walking palaces higher than the heavens. 

Maps crumpled and folded into origami white feathers, too scared to show the places beyond the edges of their flesh. But the gods are not deterred by mortal things as at the helm of a boat that sales the sky is Odin and the Æsir with fire at their hand, mountains move in terror as mount Olympus thunders and gallops acrosss the horizon and the Mandjet holds a hundreds gods and a hundred more as Ra shunted his light in respect for the fallen, plunging the word into true darkness like before there was a world.

It’s one o’clock soon, the funeral starts at three and ordinarily with the caliber of company who would stock the seats of this event, one would expect for the service to be delayed by a millennia or two but this is no ordinary death, not some hasbin hero from Athens or a half breed from gods know where or even a bloody deity, (there's enough of them that you wouldn’t even notice if one did kick the spiritual bucket), this was the funeral of the hatchback. Now that hatchback is not one who is known by most, there are no temples that worship him and he is no god, a master of none, creator of nothing and before he was the hatchback he was a nameless vagabond. So it would not be out of order for one to question why all the gods and even ideas and certainty’s (like time and life) come to this man’s funeral, well that would be because with so many gods one thing is certain - squabbling. You see gods can claim worlds and take different suns to slot into the sky like cosmic coins in their eternal claw machine fishing for faith, but the singular thing that there is only one of is water and a group that connects and calls itself the ocean. Wars have been waged for time  larger than their are words to define and seconds on a bored whim, and with this much clashing universes where shattered over and over one another when the cosmic kettle overflowed with venom. 

One day when the highest beings met in the greatest hall bickering and battering one another over trivial things the man (soon to be the hatchback) wandered in. He wasn’t noticed over the celestial orchestra that like a toddlers smashing violins and drumming on trombones. After some time observing the hullabaloo his eyes settled on the highest throne in the hall where a woman sat, eight foot tall with an hourglass build, as sand slowly sprinkled down from her torso to her glass gut. Her face was sharp like a raven and an odd lapsing of gaunt and hollowed, youthful and radiant making it impossible for one’s eyes to define her in any mortal manner. Her garments where blended with black and white leather locking together like spiraled chess boards however the most exquisite attribute she possessed was a cape that stretched infinitely down. Stitched with neon greens and glistening golds with maroon lining holding moving textile characters weaved together into a tapestry so grand and full that it held an account of… well everything. 

He made his way up the royal trampolines and hitched rides on diamond bubbles until he popped to his destination. Standing just behind the throne where Time sat, he stepped next to her, overlooking the hall of divinity. He cleared his throat

“Lot o’ bickering” 

Time didn’t seem to hear or perhaps she simply didn’t care 

“What seems to be the prob-“

“The ocean, always that damned ocean” her voice seemed to walk right into his mind like his ears and skull were an optional barrier in conversation.

“Since the genesis, till the dusk dances by” 

After some time of contemplation he grinned like a seal pup

“Ah well that’s simple enough to fix, I’ll scoop it up into my backpack”

At this not only did Time acknowledge he was there, she stood up and stared at him with complete and utter confusion.

“You presume yourself to be worthy to hold that which is one?”

“Well no, but what am I gonna do with it? Go surfing?”

In an instant his throat was held in talon like arms, she held his head to hers,eyes locked on his and then she smiled, then she giggled and finally she released and was rolling on the floor with laughter and the entire hall fell silent in utter horror. Time had grown bored of all things many universes ago and she swore she would only smile again when all of these pitiful gods crashed and burned in agony and well she was laughing so this spelled something much worse. 

“Very well, what is your name?”

“Well I don’t  suppose I have one, but I’ll have the ocean in my bagback so you can call me the hatchback”

Time nodded and moved to address the hall and gave a speech that would change the warring world and endless temper tantrums.

After this the Hatchback left to scoop up the ocean into his bagpack and whilst water remained at sea the soul would ride on his back. At first the gods felt afronted by times desion (although relived that she didn’t commit and act of wrath) and many went to the Hatchback to take the ocean and gut the puny mortal, but the hatchback was exactly what he said he was, he did not use the ocean for selfish gains, when gods demanded it he lent them it and was kind and listened and helped in any way he could. When the odd deity tried to steal it the oddest thing would happen, the seas would vanish and the ocean refused flow for any who where not it’s caretaker and not long after all supreme beings where satfied with the aenagment and even grew fond of the hatchback whist the ocean to shaped and made waves like never before. 

But waves wither and mortal men die as their are something’s that even gods can’t stop.

“Thank you all for coming, it is with a heavy…”

Everyone was seated and the service had begun and sat between Time and Harpocrates was the hatchback’s son. He was a ten foot needle in a haystack, a boy in an oversized button up shirt, floral swimming trunks, and the awkward look of a teenager sitting with gods. Time arched her head down 

“I sorry for you father Shanty, best I’d ever known, and the only one who could make a halfway decent joke”

Harpocrates nodded profusely and Shanty Hatchback smiled in the only way those who are lost can. Shanty was born fourteen years ago and had been names such as in that hatchbacks jubilation he sung to the ocean a song and in turn the ocean echoed it to every sailor and on shanty’s birthday the world would sing the growing changing song (as the original was lost in the voyager's Chinese whisper).

Dionysus was heading the service, first he would complete the speech, then the gods would say their goodbyes and finally they would send off the hatchback and shanty would deliver a final ullegy. Shanty sat unsure what to feel, nothing about his life was ordinary, he was born without a mother, he’d never known another mortal other than his father and he hadn’t taken his first steps until he was six as the ocean had blessed him to glide across the seas. Everything was always changing for him, the home he and his father had lived in ended up halfway across the world after a night of sleep, and they would often go and stay in the gods' realms to help solve problems. Nothing ever felt solid for Shanty Hatchback except his father. Most would think gods never changed but shanty had seen them breakdown and question everything despite the fact they made everything, so his view on them was rather skewed however his father always remained the same. He always smiled like a seal pup, found endless entertainment from puns and no matter what, even if the fabric of reality was falling apart due to some cosmic panic attack, found a way to fix it. Now that was gone, and gods seemed broken and everything was a little more fallible. 

Lost in thought Shanty hadn’t realized Dionysus had finished and gods were taking the stage one by one to say their goodbyes. Stories flooded the place from the strongest gods to the most pathetic, telling endless accounts of wisdom, humor and bravery

“That riddle bamboozled surtur”

“Then he suggested wine instead of milk for the supper”

“Found us a yellow submarine“

“Helped watch Tartarus”

“Got baset a Lazer pointer”

And this and that and so much more, but thus to much for shanty, all these people that his father had helped so much spewing on about him, he just count handle it so he ran, after all - who would miss the hatchback’s only mistake?

Panting and out of breath he made it to the cover of the scapes forest, on the verge of collapse he slumped under cloud catcher tree, with a rough crimson bark, azure blue clouds for leaves and little blooming moons (he had always felt comfort under them,almost as much as the ocean). He bit back tears, all these gods who loved his father so much, and yet not one could have stopped this? He thought what was the point of being a god if you can’t stop a single death. He tried to put this to the back of his mind and pondered when he should go back, no one would notice he was gone as gods love the sound of their own voice, they’ll be falling over one another for the next word. Shanty supposed he could understand most of the issues except two: what happened to the ocean, and why hadn’t his father said goodbye. 

After about fifteen minutes of stewing in saddness and self pity someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was Harpocrates,

“Oh um hello” shanty said awkwardly, “Really sorry I’ll head back now I just-“

Harpocrates put a finger over her mouth, stood up and gets tired for him to follow her. They walked and reached a book half way buried in dirt, she extended a hand to him, and without really understanding what was happing, took it. It was the oddest feeling like jumping to high and thrashing from gravity, like being sperated from one’s body. Then I’m instant they where in complete darkness, blacker then the bottom of the ocean that shanty had dived to so many times. He was about ask what was happing when a small lilac flame erupted from Harpocrates hand, and gazing into the god of secrets and silence eyes he saw she was crying. He didn’t know what to do, how was he meant to console her, she was the god with the largest burden of all, as she knew all and had never once spoke, her mind held the key to the first begging before gods and so much more and yet she had never spoke. She began to shake and he really was terrified now, he racked his brain for somthing and all he could think was what would dad do - what would the hatchback do?

“NO!”

 at this he shrieked falling to the floor, the god who had never once spoke, never once broke and never one fallen apart had just done all of the above. He ran and as soon as he was out of the range of the lilac light tripped falling on his face. With a crack like lighting Harpocrates was next to him again 

“sorry me” she gestured to herself, “no run, but songbird wrong” she then pointed to him. Helping him up she sighned for shanty to follow. His mind felt like ice cream on a summer day as the trodded through the darkness, if he was questioning things before then he was positive now that nothing ever made sense, he had never occumpineid his father to meet with Harpocrates but he was always told she was ok, not this.

The only sound that acmondied the pair was the jittery echoes of their footsteps but soon the sounds shifted from the constant clicking of stone to soft sound of slowed rain and the echoes became less thunderous and panicking. The ground under their feet went from unknown to a memory like when shanty was young and glided across the soft ocean bed. They halted as they reached what felt like a separate room from the unending labyrinth that they had just navigated and Harpocrates came to a stop. With a snap the handheld lilac flame vanished and a flood light of cobalt blue that enveloped the whole room took its place, shanty’s eyes darted across the room looking for a source but couldn't seem to find it. With the wide illumination shanty could now see something for the first time since they had plummeted into this rabbit holw, he saw plaid stretched over cushioned floors and a birch rocking chair resting next to a pedestal with an odd structure on top, like a nest made of coral and dried seaweed.

“What is this place?” Shanty asked 

After some time attempting to understand Harpocrates looked like she Findlay understood and said “The hatchery”

Shanty contemplated for a second and something had occurred to him, she referred to him as the songbird,

“Is this where I was born?” He said in complete shock 

“Secret” and with that she vanished into nothing.

Shanty lay on the floor in terror questioning everything, he frantically searched for a way out, somewhere to run but the way the came had vanished and all that remained was the ‘hatchery’. Finally seeing nothing else to do he went to inspect the nest, gripping his hands tight and trying to stop his legs from collapsing he walked to stare into the eye of every question he had ever had. He reached the pedestal and stared into its center and was greeted by what looked like a mirror. He saw the source of the light, with his eyes glowing and his jet black hair changed into a wavy neon Saxe. Shanty was angry, all there was, was a mirror and a new hair do to explain this, so he smashed his hand into the nest but it just dropped through into water until he felt a bag. Pulling up he found his father's backpack and opened it up to find a book and a music box. Opening the book it started with a simple sentence  

“I am the hatchback, and I have lied to the gods.” Shanty count believe his eyes 

“I said I would carry the ocean with no desire but this was no truth, I hatched a plot to hatch a son from my penance, I have played the gods so he can live, a song in motion, a growing ocean and my son, to those who have known me, you called me the hatchback on a whim, but I am so much more. I grow weaker on this side of the dream each passing day, I put myself in my son and with it the time those gods gave me. But to my son you were never meant to be anything but what you wanted, you have the soul of the sea and the freedom to be, you can carry your sibling if you please or forge your own path, promise me, you won’t ever let men or gods shunt your growing song. With all the love in the world in the name of my proudest achievement - your father”

As soon has he had finished reading that line he was back under the cloud catcher tree with Harpocrates gazing into his eyes, she gave him a thumbs up implying she had gone back to her silent ways but he pounced at her locking her in a hug

“Thank you” he said smiling like a sea lion, he quickly inspected the backpack to see the ocean sleeping inside. He wouldn’t be going back to the funeral, as far as he was concerned he had just been, but he raised his hand and from the hall something came catapulting to them, his fathers surfboard and with a hum the ocean came falling down into place but changed with shifting colour like a flooding rainbow.

Surfing new waves with a smile he listens to a song lost to time knowing his name and his legacy.

Son of the hatchback, brother of the ocean and the soul of hope and song.