The Dreamboat Tragedy

“My little list of failures includes,” Caesar said on his knees to his lovely dreamboat that seemed destined for a watery grave, “I forgot the flares and now the fireworks are no longer here.”

Darkness engulfed his existence and the amateur captain to the private vessel forgot his true calling and this drowning reality left twinkling stars as a friendly map, “how am I going to get out of this one,” the grey-haired bearded angler thought seeing the brightest north orb showing a power path. Already prepared wearing a life preserver feeling lonely since nothing below took his hook or bait seriously. But the true love in his romance was “The Cleopatra” a true sailing figure outside with a strong stern that only rivaled his bride who he married many years ago. Figuring out there was nothing more that could be accomplished he took a seat dressed in the fashionable orange vest and waited for a sign signaling that he would be rescued.

Earlier in the day equipped with all the necessary fishing needs and having only one goal that was catching dinner. Thinking many leagues below where he travelled loitered many gullible guppies looking to enjoy a life ending snack but today the tempting trawling teases creatively nibbled while unhinging the appetizer from the metal sickle.

Due to an unfortunate coincidence the radio was disabled, and transmitting was impossible leaving only prayer. This was not his fault since communication between the cruiser ended when the engines puttered out by happy hour due to the battery needing an afternoon delight jump from a third party. “I didn’t mean to hit you,” he pleaded to the electronic device that was used to call the lighthouse onshore. When there was not any response Caesar looked straight to the bow and knowing he was on borrowed time expected the unplanned occurrence when water magically started spouting into the air.

As God’s grace started to emerge Caesar made peace with his creator, “in which I failed to do,” he exclaimed and suddenly a golden shining image listened intently, “have on my boat flairs, on board to create excitement and bring attention to my dear beloved ‘Cleopatra’,”

Returning to challenging Caesar’s hope the heavens lacked any advice waiting patiently for the sunrise and the early morning reflection that instructed him to take the lives of fishes who simply swam around all day having nothing to do besides get eaten. Since the bleak surroundings were desperate Caesar’s mind decided to understand where this journey was headed and a few minutes later the flickering message came back.

And inside the vision a female figure found center stage, “Caesar,” the voice announced, “do you remember me?”

“Mrs. Melville,” he said, “I remember you from sophomore English Literature, last century.”

“You said you forgot flairs and that is why your dreamboat could not be saved,” she stood there reading a report card, “am I correct?”

In an inquisitive way Caesar confirmed what was being asked, “do you know why I forgot my flairs?”

“You left the house without thinking and sometimes that makes the flairs missing,”

Pondering the verdict in the same fashion he did in class Mrs. Melville had the intuition that it was time to hand out another assignment knowing once accomplished Caesar would be a little bit more knowledgeable.

“Here is something you may want to do, read from the good book,” Mrs. Melville handed him a paperback and Caesar glanced at the cover, “at the chapter end answer the question, please use double spaced Times Roman font,”

“But the game is tonight, and the cheerleader Cornelia really loves me!”

Once again silence set the tone and Caesar took the academic hint before whispering, “The Old Man and The Sea,” then like a spiritual awakening another gasp sent him up a circular tunnel. Sunshine blinded the first thing Caesar saw and the perfume to the auburn-brown hair beauty sparked energy as the red lips slowly departed his mouth.

“He’s, back,” Cornelia, his wife stated while a crowd cheered, “I thought I lost you honey, and all the electricity you brought me,” a tear went down his long-time blushing bride’s cheek, “your Cleopatra sunk.”

Sitting up Caesar now coherent turned his head seeing the person he exchanged vows with decades ago, “you know I saw this beautiful boat for sale yesterday, it was called Romeo and Juliet.”