I could feel something boiling in the pit of my stomach. My head felt like it was stuck to a wheel, looping around in intense speed. The legs on my bottom fail to support me any further as they wobbly guide me to the nearest fence. The morning’s breakfast was thrown out to God knows where. I had motion sickness.
Mr. Smith had accompanied me during this troubled time. He had given me a pill to ease my headache and a cup of warm ginger drink to help me with the nausea. His hand was rubbing my spine. I do not think that has any effect but it was very comforting. Maybe it was some sort of emotional support.
He told me that it would go away soon enough. I only hoped I could get away from the airship so I can get rid of this sickness, but that was near impossible. Soon after, he escorted me to my room where I lied down on the bed with a bucket ready on the side. He took a seat on the only chair in the room and starting scribbling on his notebook. The notebook usually consists of hard sketches of his inventions, at least that is what I have seen so far. I would gradually catch glimpses of them during the first day of the voyage.
“How’s life?” I asked him out of the blue. His hand stopped their past motion for a moment but then he continued writing.
“Where is this question coming from? You know how my life is Andy,” he answered hesitantly. I could feel the doubt in his voice.
“It’s all work, that’s just how my life is,” he said, trying to stop the conversation.
“Yes, of course, but that isn’t my question. How is your personal life?” I tried to inquire further. I was very curious about his personal life, since it had been a long while after I last met him. It was about a year ago, in his last birthday party. We had dinner in a high-end restaurant, he had steak while I had roasted chicken. He had introduced me to his girlfriend, whom I had forgotten the name. Even though I forgot her name, her physical image was trapped inside my mind. She was an exquisite woman, tall, beautiful black hair, slim, she was some sort of a model. At the time I had been happy for Mr. Smith for having such a lover, but seeing as he did not take her to the lunch, I was convinced that things did not go so well.
“Too much work will leave you feeling alone in the end,” I said as I tried getting up. I held the bucket close to myself and fought the nausea.
This time he stopped writing for quite longer but in the end he still continued, “You really know how to tick me off do you Andy?”
“I suppose so,” I said before throwing up this morning’s dessert into the bucket.
“She left,” he said while writing on his notebook still.
“I see,” I said, trying not to inquire any further. Mr. Smith’s last sentence had that tone of absolute displeasure. It was a sign that I should not investigate any further.
I put my bucket down and took a sip of my ginger drink. I wanted to take my shirt off but the temperature was not so supportive.
“You were right, I was too busy,” Mr. Smith suddenly said, “I was so caught up with my work that I had forgotten to give her some of my time.”
I put my ginger water down and took a napkin to wipe my mouth, “She left you because you had no time?”
“On the contrary, I left her,” he answered with a sigh.
“Well then I guess we know whose fault was it.”
“Not really,” he said, stopping his hand’s work, “She was with another man.”
At this time around the nausea and the headache had already gone away. I stood up and went to my drawer and took out a sweater. I changed into it, leaving the dirty shirt into the laundry bin.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine, are you?” I asked him back.
“About being left? I’ve already grown pass it, but I’m still wondering on how to juggle my life,” he said.
“Why don’t you try hiring more people?”
“It never turned out well, they either leave or I fire them because of how much they cost.”
“What made this trip different? What made this an exception on hiring new people?”
“I only hired one person, she’s very reliable, an old colleague back from university.”
“I see, why not let her have a permanent job, an assistant maybe.”
“Maybe,” he said.
Mr. Smith was not one to trust people very easily, he will put on an act of trust but that is as far as things goes. The only persons that I have the knowledge he trusts are myself and Mr. Sylvester, perhaps this former colleague of his is the third one. She must be quite a reliable person if she is in Mr. Smith’s trust list.
“She must be one hell of a woman if you trust her with your company,” I said to him.
Mr. Smith started to talk about how he trusts her like a friend, much like how he trusts myself and Mr. Sylvester. He had explained how in university he would always pair up with this peculiar woman for field study and for experiments. Usually he will pick anyone for the job but this time it’s quite different.
“If you trust her this much why don’t you try working things out with her?” I cut him off in the middle of his chatter.
“It isn’t that easy, She is a married woman,” he answered.
“Well, then just hire her permanently,” I suggested.
“What of her children? If she left so sudden the company would be in shambles,” he said, gaze still on his notebook.
Mr. Smith had continued writing at this point, the content that he is writing is still a mystery to me. His pencil had lost its edge and he started to shave it. I was at a loss of words hearing his last statement. The business life is strictly not in my field of expertise. The amount of books I read cannot hope to surpass the amount of experience Mr. Smith had.
“Seeing that you are well, I think it’s best if I take my leave. Enjoy the rest of you day Andy,” He suddenly said, shutting his notebook. He left through the door and shuts it quietly. I stood from my bed and searched my room for some reading material, and the first thing I found was the journal. I started reading it again while leaving my room.
The call for the day’s lunch was called. It started with a static sound and a man’s voice spoke, “The dining hall is now open for lunch, today we will be serving mushroom cream soup, garlic bread, and fruit jellies.”
Hearing the word ‘cream’ almost made my stomach hurl but I kept it in, I guess garlic bread and fruit jelly is quite filling. I departed for the dining hall, journal at hand.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
