Day Nine Hundred Eighty Six #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Another day and everyone in the Purser’s camp should be recovered enough to travel.

Everyone, that is, except that ex-army surgeon. He died. Shriveled away to nothing during the night.

The Purser now believes he was working against us and was the one behind all their losses, including his daughter Retha.

When I sensed that our friend was slipping away to a very dark place, Elijah and I took him and his wife aside to comfort them.

At the last, Elijah was able to convince them that in no manner were they responsible for the dead man’s perfidy.

Afterwards I joined Mawuli at his sentry station and helped him through this renewal of grief by simply standing with him.

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Me and My Arrow

There is something to be said about listening to your wife.

In my case it was a hard lesson to learn. (In fact the learning never ends).

I loved my Plymouth Roadrunner, but with that V-8 engine (and its racing cam) it was a bit of a gas hog. No longer could you pull up to the pump and buy gas for 25 cents a gallon. Our buying power for that commodity had been cut in half with the rise in price. And the price showed signs of going higher.

Time to look for a more fuel efficient vehicle.

I am not sure if the ad campaign for the Plymouth Arrow led us to consider that vehicle. The tune has stuck in mind ever since whenever I think about the car. The marketeers had picked up the Harry Nilsson tune from 1971. It had been composed for the ABC animated Movie broadcast on 2/2/1971 as the theme for its hero Oblio, the pointless boy, and his dog Arrow.

Anyway I had made up my mind that this was the car for us. Gas efficient, a 1600cc overhead cam engine, four cylinder, with a clean sporty look (although the bright orange paint job let everyone know you were coming). And did I say gas efficient?

But there was a BIG negative, not for me, but for my wife. The Arrow had a stick shift. This didn’t bother me at all, that stick shift was a four speed. Can you say sporty? I could grind those gears like Steve McQueen in Bullitt.

But my wife didn’t drive a stick. And wouldn’t drive a stick. She made her feelings very plain. If I bought that car, she would never drive it. (She didn’t say I could never drive her in it).

But it was fuel efficient, was my argument. And within our budget. And brand new. Our first brand new car right off the lot. (And last brand new car ever as it has turned out – so far).

Regret was slow in coming. Not for the car itself. It was a great car. But the seed of bitterness sown with that one-sided decision poisoned our relationship.

True to her word, she never drove that car. And every car after that has had an automatic transmission.

So all you young husbands out there. Learn this lesson, and don’t fall on that arrow.

Day Three Hundred Eighty Three late morning #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Elijah writes:

Almost time to go on shore again. Last time, though I found the sign of the fish in several places in the vicinity of the docks, I did not come across any followers of Hamashiach.

I have asked the Captain for permission to take the Purser with me. He knows the city beyond and desires to look for his wife and children.

I hope to see Enoch soon.

Day Two Hundred Eighty Four #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Elam brought back a message from Sy for his parents. It was a heartfelt plea. It has decided the father to send his wife with the next group. She would prefer to make the journey some time later before the twenty five days elapse, but she has agreed to go tomorrow.

I wonder if Sy’s father will ever leave.

When we arrived at the administration building, there was not a soul anywhere. But this time the doors were unlocked. So we entered.

It was an expansive area, designed to intimidate.

We approached the only occupant, a man of formidable size. Elijah asked to speak to the city ruler. He blanched on seeing us, and begged us to leave.

We did.