The Splash
The black barge floated on the oily water of the Monangahela. From the stern of the tug, Kielly
watched the rain pour down upon the mound of black coal rising high from within the barge's hold.
As fresh squalls blew down from the sky and rippled across the river's surface, it seemed as though
the tug were cutting a brisk wake through the water. Kielly glanced toward the bank to reassure
himself that the appearance of movement was an illusion.
"Better hope those bilge pumps don't quit on us," a voice spoke up from behind. Kielly
wheeled around suddenly upon hearing it. The rest of the crew had fallen asleep hours before, and
he expected to be alone.
"They ain't gonna quit," Kielly snapped back quickly, as if to reassure himself.
"I suppose you heard about the crew that drowned?"
"No, didn't hear nothing."
"Happened a bunch of years ago. You were probably still collecting baseball cards," the
voice chortled, "but they all got drunk one night ... last night of the shift ... passed out, and a freak
thunder storm blows up out of nowhere."
"So ..."
"So it dumps a whole bunch of rain ... some record amount ... in about an hour. So these
guys are still passed out below deck, so they don't turn on the bilge pumps."
"That's impossible." Kielly suddenly became more interested.
"Nope, this really happened just like I'm telling you. The barge was trimmed to the top with
about twenty-five hundred tons of coke. The coke sucks up the rain like a sponge and SWOOSH!
... the barge goes straight to the bottom of the river like a brick, and drags the tug down with it.
"Christ," Kielly stared at the black mound of coal in disbelief.
"Took 'em a couple of days to fish all them bodies out of there."
"Funny ... never heard of that happening."
"It was a long time ago. Like I said, you were just a kid ... too young."
The rain subsided to a light drizzle. Kielly propped up his foot and watched water drops
drip off the rail into a puddle on the deck.
"Guess people don't talk about it anymore, being that it happened so many years ago."
"Yeah," Kielly paused, "I haven't seen you before. Who are you?"
"New cook for the next shift. Came in this afternoon."
"Oh."
"Yeah, ... hope it doesn't happen tonight while you're on duty," the Cook guffawed, "better
check them pumps."
"I've been on night watch the last two nights. It should have been somebody else's turn
tonight."
"It's the last night of the shift, so this is the last night you'll have to do it, right?"
"Yeah."
"Don't feel bad, it's the same for all junior guys."
"What if the bilge gives out?"
"Don't worry about it," the Cook laughed, "they build 'em better now-a-days. More likely
some drunk tug captain behind schedule is going to plow into you cause of all this rain ... Unless
we're sinking, don't wake me up."
Kielly nodded and the Cook descended below deck. The rain stopped, and a humid mist
hung above the river. Waves lapped gently against the hull of the tug. Dull crescents of amber
light reflected periodically in the water as the fog beacon high on top of the ship's mast spun slowly
around.
Far down the river, the tall cylindrical smoke stack of the J&L coke works spouted orange
and blue fire. Through the mist, Kielly watched the flames jump and gyrate along the lip of the
stack. He walked slowly along the edge of the deck, seeing the hazy reflection of fire in the water.
At the entrance of the wheel house, the smell of coffee drifted outside to the deck. He went
in and filled a white Styrofoam cup with black steamy liquid. It tasted burnt and dirty, but he
hoped it would keep him awake for the rest of the watch. Stepping back outside, he leaned over the
rail cradling the cup in his hands.
"See any fishes in there?" the Cook blustered as he came back up from below.
"Nah, nothing ... I thought you went to bed?"
"Tried to ... Too much snoring down there."
"Yeah."
"So what are you going to do during the off-time. You know you got six days until the next
shift."
"Don't know."
"C'mon, you don't have anything lined up for when you get back land side?" he said with a
sly grin.
"Nope, can't really say I got much going on. Kind of tough to plan anything from this
boat."
"I guess so."
The fog rolled up the river valley and engulfed the boat. Kielly strained to see the orange
flames from the J&L stack, but only a dull glow filtered through the haze. The river seemed to end
just several feet away from the boat, and dissolve into darkness on all sides.
"You sure you're not going to meet some girlfriend during the off-time."
"Nope."
"You're still a young guy. You should be chasing girls," the Cook paused and cocked his
head to the side, "you queer or something?"
"Yeah," Kielly smirked, "wanna suck my dick?"
The Cook guffawed, "Seriously, I'll bet you got women all over you when you go
somewhere."
Kielly just stared straight ahead into the blackness without answering. The fog deadened all
sound, and when the Cook spoke it seemed that his voice came from far away.
"Hey, I hope I'm not bugging you too much with all these questions. I'm just wishing I was
young again like you. Sorry, I hope I didn't get you pissed- off."
"No problem."
"You're a good guy. I hope you get laid."
"Just have to see what happens once we're off this boat."
"I'll drink to that. Hey, you wanna do a shot?" Cook pulled a shiny tin flask from his back
pocket and unscrewed the cap.
"What is it?" Kielly asked.
"Medicine!" the Cook thrust the flask forward. Kielly took it and sniffed the spout. The
pungent vapors tickled his nostrils.
"Take a big slug. I got lots more stowed away."
Kielly held the slippery metallic flask to his lips. On the first gulp, the liquid burned the
back of his throat. He blinked rapidly to keep the tears from welling in his eyes.
"Good stuff, huh?" the Cook nodded.
Kielly winced and handed back the flask. He watched the Cook chug several mouthfuls.
"You like it?" the Cook wiped the back of his hand over his mouth.
"How can you drink that stuff?"
"It's easy," Cook said as he tilted the flask to his lips, "you do it just like this, and it kills the
pain."
"Oh yeah?"
"Want another one?"
"Nah."
"It'll help kill the pain."
"No it won't," Kielly blankly stared out at the river.
"Sure it will."
"I'm not in any pain."
"Sure you are. You just said you were and that you didn't think that drink would do
anything for you."
"I'd rather just stay on and work."
"You're crazy! Doing two shifts in a row. That's six hours on, six hours off for two straight
weeks. Then, you have to eat my cooking. You can't do that!"
"I need the cash."
"Ahhh ... You got something going down, huh?" the Cook paused, "you don't have to say
what it is, if it's a big secret."
"No secrets, just habits."
"Oh ... you a drug-attic or something?" Cook chuckled.
"I owe people lots of money."
"Ahhh ... I see what you mean. Say, I know a way to take your mind off it. There's this
lady I could introduce you to. She's a little bit older than you, but I ..."
"What's she look like?" Kielly reached for the flask, but Cook pulled back.
"Tell you what! You can check her out tonight. We can take the dingy over to this club on
the river I know about. It's real exclusive, and you gotta be a member. But I know the doorman
there. He's a buddy of mine, and we can get in. They got beers, liquor ... there's nice ladies there
and I know some of them personally." The Cook nodded his head up and down.
"No way man! We can't leave the boat like that."
"Sure we can. We'll be there and back before anybody knows it. I'll even row the dingy.
C'mon, they're all drunk below. Oh yeah, did I mention they got black-jack tables going in the
basement!"
"We're fired if the captain finds out!"
"He won't find out. He's the drunkest one down there. You'll be glad you did it."
"Yeah, sure," Kielly said sarcastically.
"It'll be our secret between you and me. It's just one more to add to your list."
"I ain't got no secrets," Kielly snapped.
"Sure you do! I got 'em. You got 'em. Everybody's got them."
Kielly stared blindly out into the mist. The Cook began unlashing the dingy, and Kielly
absent-mindedly found himself helping lower it into the river. It hit the water with a dull thud.
Short swells lapped against the dingy, causing it to chafe against the hull of the tug.
"Boy, if we could only shut off the water and see what's down in the river bed. I'll bet there
are things down there that we'll never know about, EVER!" The Cook gingerly stepped down into
the boat, and steadied himself in the stern.
"C'mon, let's push off. Nobody will know," the Cook motioned with his arm.
Kielly looked around the deck. Everything was quiet. He climbed down into the dingy, and
the Cook cast off from the tug.
The mist thickened as they got further towards the center of the river, and it deadened the
sound even more. Kielly heard only the gentle splashing of the oars cutting into the water. The fog
seemed to completely close in around them. Only the orange-juice glow of the J&L works far up
the river reminded him that the foggy void did not extend forever.
"Bet you're right, this river must have a lot of secrets," Kielly faced the void as he talked.
The dark, damp air seemed to absorb his speech.
"It does. It does," Cook sighed, and began rowing faster. "You know how I was telling you
about that accident?"
"Yeah."
"Well, they didn't get all the bodies out of the river."
"Why not?"
"Some they just couldn't find. Divers went down to try and fish 'em all out, but some parts
of the wreck they couldn't get to."
"So that tug is still down there?"
"Yeah, and so is the barge, but the bodies are long gone. Even the bones would have
dissolved by now. We're going right by the spot where happened."
Kielly thought of his tug moored motionless, and then suddenly being yanked under with the river crashing over and inside it. He imagined the windows in the wheel house shattering and violent water blasting through the hatches
and stairwells. Anyone scrambling up would be bashed down. And the ones who had passed out in
their bunks would have their lungs filled with water and suffocate without knowing what was
happening.
"Where did it sink?" Kielly asked.
"Not far from here," Cook nodded in the starboard direction, and paddled still faster. "We'll
go to the spot where it sank."
"You don't have to. Besides, you can't see anything out here more than four feet away."
"We're going there."
"Why? It's nothing but water there now."
"I need to go there and do something." Cook swiped the back of his hand across his mouth.
"But why? I thought we were going to this club ... meet some ladies, not float around out
here all night!"
"It's a secret. We gotta go there first."
"But it's nothing but water," Kielly said impatiently.
"Oh, it's more than that. It's the spot where it happened. It's important to pay tribute to it.
Nearly everyone's forgotten, and anyone that's remembered wants to forget it ever happened."
"Okay, if it's THAT important to you."
"It is."
"Let me know when we're there."
"You want to know a secret about it?" Cook's eyes were wide.
Kielly hesitated before answering. Even in the mist, Kielly could see the Cook's arched
eyebrows and creased forehead.
"Well, do you want to know, or not!" Cook barked.
"Sure," Kielly answered calmly.
"It was my fault. MY FAULT!"
"C'mon. What are you talking about?" Kielly whined.
"It's my fault it's down there now," Cook's voice trailed.
"What?" Kielly said sarcastically, "that the tug got pulled under because of you?"
"I was suppose to be on watch that night, but I was too drunk to do anything ... and here we
are ... here's where it happened."
Kielly silently looked over the void. It was just water. There was nothing to make it
different from any other spot on the river. He tried to imagine the tug being swept under by the
bloated barge, and air bubbles rising from the submerged wreck. Maybe some of the bubbles
coming from the final breaths of some of the crew.
Cook stood up, pulled the flask from his pocket, and leaned back to swig the liquor. The
dingy rocked, and nearly capsized. Kielly shifted his weight back and forth to steady it.
"Sit down, will ya'!" Kielly shouted, and Cook plopped down in the stern.
"I'm sorry," the Cook leaned forward and said in a confidential tone to Kielly. Then leaning
out over the side, he shouted, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry guys."
"It's just water."
"It's more than just water," the Cook hissed.
"Suit yourself. You wanna push on now?"
"Not yet."
"We're wasting time here," Kielly became irritated.
The Cook spread his arms out over the water and said, "I'm coming with you guys."
"C'mon. You're drunk. Let's go back to the boat."
"NO!"
"Man, this is not good being out here like this."
"There's nothing to worry about. There'll be no river traffic on account of the fog. We can
sit here as long as we like and nothing will bother us. Everyone's forgotten about this place!"
"You must have been on deck when it happened."
"What?" Cook mumbled as he gazed into the black water. Kielly watched him peering into
the river.
"I said: You must have been up top when you got sucked under."
"I don't remember where I was. I just remember being all of a sudden gulping water. I
thought they were playing a joke on me. I thought they threw me in the river for laughs ... THERE!
... you can see it there," Cook pointed into the water.
Kielly looked in the direction of the Cook's out stretched arm. There was only blackness.
"We're going back now."
"There's the tug. You can see it plainly, if you just look," Cook shouted desperately while
leaning off-balance and thrusting his arm downward to some spot in the deep water.
Kielly lunged for him, but could not stop the Cook from swinging his legs over the side of
the boat and rolling into the river with barely a splash.
"I belong down there with the rest of them," Cook hoarsely whispered.
"Damn-it! Now I have to pull you up," Kielly scolded, and thrust out an oar, but the Cook
refused to take hold of it. Kielly watched Cook's head bob in the water, and drift further away.
"C'mon, god damn-it. Grab it!"
"No, I'm going straight to the bottom. That's where I belong ... So, you say you don't have
any secrets?" laughed the Cook.
Kielly tried to paddle closer, but the Cook maintained his distance. The fog blurred the
features of Cook's face such that Kielly heard him speak, but could not see his lips move.
"You can tell me your secrets now. I know you're holding them back." The Cook
disappeared into the blackness.
"I ain't got no secrets," Kielly said as he paddled in the direction of where the Cook's voice
emanated.
"They'll be safe with me."
"I'll tell you if you come back in the boat."
"Tell me first," the Cook gasped.
"All right, just keep talking so I can find you."
"Tell me," the voice spoke from seemingly further away.
"I gamble. I lost all my money but I still kept doing it. Are you still there?"
"Yes. Keep going."
"I owe people money and can't pay them ... I don't want them to find me."
"Gambling is not some kind of secret! Tell me a real secret."
"That's it. I'm a gambler."
"You're not a gambler."
"Sure I am," Kielly said with irritation.
"Anybody ever die because of a gamble you took?"
"No."
"Then you're not a gambler."
"I am," Kielly said as he thrust the paddle in the direction of where he heard the voice.
"You're only a gambler when someone will die because of what you do, or don't do."
"C'mon, get back into the boat!" Kielly pleaded.
"You said before that you don't have any secrets! Well ... now you'll have one. Everyone
has to have at least ONE."
"C'mon! Let me help you!" Kielly yelled and aimed the boat at a faint round outline of a
head bobbing in the water.
"Just keep this all a secret," Cook whispered as Kielly watched him slip below the surface
of the water.
Kielly thrashed the paddle and maneuvered the boat over to where he thought the Cook
went under. Standing up, he peered in the direction of Cook's voice. "Hey!" he shouted, then
seeing a faint shadow on the water's surface, he dove in towards it.
The cold shock made him gasp, and he nearly inhaled water into his lungs. He fought
downward, with eyes wide open. Nothing could be seen. Thrashing his arms, he pushed deeper
below the surface hoping to bump blindly into the Cook.
He moved his arms around in circles in front of him. His wrist brushed against something,
and he grabbed what felt like an arm. He strained to see it, but blackness pressed him on all sides.
It could have easily been a soggy branch floating below the surface, or the mast tip of the old tug
that had been pulled down years before.
He struggled to pull it upwards. Kicking hard, he felt himself being dragged even deeper.
He saw sparks in the blackness. The air in his lungs turned to fire. Sparks came more rapidly, and
he seemed to see the old tug and rusty barge illuminated on the river bottom by the momentary
flash-bulbs.
He let go and clawed the black water with both hands. Panic drove him faster toward the
surface, and the sparks exploded as bright as the noon sun, but the water seemed endless. He
fought the desperate urge to inhale the dank, black water that started to creep up his nostrils. He
broke the surface of the river just as he felt he could go no further. Sucking air loudly, he felt
elated by the rush in his lungs, then felt panic grip him again when he could not see the dingy. A
thick band of fog had settled down on the river surface, and the blackness was nearly as deep as
underwater. Nothing was visible in all directions. He did circles in the water. There was no
familiar orange glow from the J&L coke works, or the running lights of the tug. He waded blindly,
and completely unaware of the direction. Keeping his head above water, he swam forward,
scanning for light, and trying to keep the panic pangs from sapping the strength in his arms and
legs.
Something suddenly loomed in front of him. It was the dingy. He climbed in, and stood
tip-toe above the fog thicket and saw the tugboat lights.
He poked the paddle deep into the blackness of the water. A sudden large bubble of air
broke, and along with it a momentary glint of pale metallic light caused him to look closer. A
stainless steel flask bobbed nearby. Kielly plucked it out. It looked dull and felt coarse. He shook
it to see if there was any liquid left, but it rattled strangely as though it held a thin, dry sliver of
bone.
"Hey! I'm going," he shouted, and then listened for some nearby splashing noise, but there
was no sound. The fog and silence pressed in closer.
He called once more, and waited, but again heard nothing. Slowly, he paddled back to the
tug. After every few strokes, he turned around and looked for a dull bobbing lump, and listened for
the sound of splashing water, or a faint voice.
Upon arriving back, he found the bilge pumps still chugging water from the barge's cargo
hold, and the coffee simmering in the wheel house. He was about to go below deck to wake the
captain when he remembered the Cook's flask. It was still in the dingy.
He fetched it and went back to the wheel house. The flask felt different than before. He
placed it on the counter by the coffee pot and stared at it. Something inside rattled against the tin
interior when he shook it again. For a moment he doubted that it belonged to the Cook.
He unscrewed the cap and poured out the contents. A short, thick pencil slid out and
tumbled on the counter. Around one end of the pencil a Chinese fortune had been taped. Kielly
read the words out loud:
by David S. George
He read it again and then went to the railing with the flask. Staring into the darkness, he held it
over the edge for a long while. Finally, he heaved the flask far into the fog, and then leaned over
the railing and waited to hear it splash.
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