Gareth and the Sailboat

            Gareth never had a small idea. His mind was simply incapable of simplicity. Though Gareth was barely twelve, his brain was a hive of ideas that kept him up at night with endless possibilities. And in his adolescent heart, Gareth believed that his wild dreams would materialize. Never did it cross his mind that, when everything was said and done, any of his plans could ever fail.

            Because of his lofty ambitions, Gareth hardly ever fit in with kids his own age. He found that, when invited to someone’s house, he usually would want to go on an adventure, like roaming through the forest, looking for lost treasures, rather than just sitting down and playing video games. While others around him would gingerly make their way in to the shallow side of the pool, Gareth would simply dive in and expect the water to warm up for him. Gareth wanted excitement, he wanted adventure, he just wanted something out of the ordinary to whisk him away for a little while.

            Gareth was sitting on his bed, contemplating what he should do. It was a bright Saturday morning, and he didn’t want to waste such a perfect day. As Gareth searched his mind for ideas, he suddenly realized what he wanted to do with his Saturday. He decided to become a pirate, at least for a day. As soon as he made his decision, he realized that he did not have a pirate ship, or an ocean for that matter. He looked toward his window and saw the large tree in his backyard. He grabbed a black t-shirt from his drawer and went outside.

            Gareth expertly scaled the tree that he had been climbing ever since his arms were strong enough to support the weight of his body. He found an area where it was easy to both stand and sit, and tied his black shirt to a branch. He looked up at his makeshift flag, smiling softly to himself with a sense of achievement. Just as he was about to yell at his imaginary crew, the wind blew and took his flag from the branch it was tied to. The shirt carried all the way in to the neighbors yard and Gareth let out an exasperated yelp.

            His shirt had landed in a yard that belonged to an old man that no one in the neighborhood knew. At Gareth’s school, the kids would tell stories about him, making him out to be some ghoulish creature of the night. The kids would say he could steal their souls and use them to extend his life. Gareth had heard all the stories and, though he didn’t exactly believe in them, was still very hesitant to go claim his flag. Both his parents were out of the house running errands, and Gareth knew they wouldn’t be back for some time. If he wanted his flag back, he would have to go retrieve it himself. Pirates aren’t afraid of anything, he reassured himself.

            Gareth lightly knocked on the door, his heart pounding with every knock. He had half a mind to run back to his house and just wait for his parents to help him claim his t-shirt. Just as he was about to turn around and leave, the knob of the door started to turn. His heart started to race as the door slowly creaked open. The old man stood there, and Gareth’s eyes immediately zeroed in on the tubes coming out of his nose. Gareth followed the tubes down to the ground, slightly out of curiosity and slightly out of fear that they might be attached to something that could steal his soul. For a brief moment he thought the stories might be true. His eyes fell upon a small tank attached to a dolly, which read, in small, blue letters, “oxygen.” Gareth let go a sigh of relief, happy that the tank wasn’t anything more malicious.

            “Can I help you?” the man gruffly asked after realizing Gareth was currently incapable of speech.

            “I, ahem, uhh, well, I, I, my flag, I mean shirt, flew in to your yard. I was, um, wondering if I could have it back,” Gareth stammered.

            “Your shirt flew in to my back yard?” the man skeptically questioned.

            “Yeah, I was pretending to be a pirate. I used my shirt for a flag. The wind took it off the tree I was in and dropped it in your backyard,” Gareth said, rambling on out of sheer nervousness.

            “You were pretending to be a pirate? I’m assuming the tree was your ship then,” the man said, much softer than before, even smiling a little.

            Gareth, the smile putting him more at ease, said, “Yeah! I wanted to be a pirate for the day, but realized I didn’t have a ship or any water.”

            “Where’s your fearless crew, your men to follow you to the end of the earth?” the man jokingly asked.

            “They’re right here,” Gareth said pointing to his head. “No one wants to have adventures like I do. But that’s ok. I can have adventures all by myself.”

            The man let out a chuckle that was more cough than laugh. “Well then, Mr. Pirate, let’s get your flag so you can get back to terrorizing the high seas,” he said.

            “My name’s not Mr. Pirate. It’s Gareth Overton,” Gareth said.

            “I’m Charles,” the man said, looking down at Gareth. “You know, you remind me of me when I was your age. What are you? Eleven?”

            “Twelve!” Gareth exclaimed, proud of his old age. “How old are you?”

            “Eighty-six,” Charles said, pausing after saying the number as if he couldn’t comprehend the number. “I’ll show you to the back.”

            As they walked through the house, Gareth looked around in awe. Everything seemed to be straight out of the shows that his dad would watch in black and white. Gareth looked in wonder at the old radio and record player prominently displayed near a small television. As he scanned the room, Gareth saw a large box with a picture of a ship on it. “What’s that?” he questioned the old man.

            “That’s a model of a sailboat. Or it will be soon enough. It’s something I’ve always wanted to try, building a fancy model,” Charles answered. “I haven’t got much time left to get it done.”

            “Why not?” Gareth asked innocently.

            “Don’t you worry about that, Gareth. Go on and get your shirt,” Charles said as he opened the door leading to the backyard.

            Gareth collected his shirt and walked back through the house. As he got to the front door, he paused for a moment. “Can I help you build your sailboat, Mr. Charles?” he asked hopefully.

            “It’s been a long time since I’ve had company, but why not? Sure. We will build it on Saturdays, starting next weekend. How does that sound?” Charles said.

            “That sounds great!” Gareth beamed.

Every Saturday for the next two months, Gareth and Charles would work on building their sailboat. Being the curious child that he was, Gareth would endlessly regale Charles with questions during their time building. Charles explained to Gareth how records worked, and the value of a vinyl record. He explained how the radio was a vital part of life back when he was younger, and how people were able to get along without a television. Charles even explained that movies and shows weren’t always in color. It took Gareth a while to grasp the concept of only having black and white on the screen.

But Charles didn’t do all the talking. Gareth would tell Charles all about the antics of his school. Each week Gareth was full of new stories he wanted to tell Charles. They both laughed as Gareth told Charles how funny it was when his friend slipped in the mud during gym. Charles listened as Gareth confided in him that an older kid was bullying him.

“You shouldn’t listen to him. That dumb kid doesn’t know anything. He’s probably just afraid of how smart and interesting you are. I bet you could steal all of his friends if you wanted to,” Charles consoled.

“I know. He doesn’t really bother me. I just wish he would leave me alone,” Gareth sheepishly said.

“You know, I was bullied when I was about your age,” Charles said.

“What did you do about it?” Gareth asked.

“Well, I walked straight up to him and told him to stop. I said didn’t want to take any more of his crap,” Charles replied.

“Did that actually work?” Gareth wondered.

“Well maybe. But I think it had more to do with me pouring chocolate milk down his pants. I don’t really know what got in to me,” Charles said chuckling.

Gareth stared at the old man in complete disbelief. Then, suddenly, he started to laugh. He laughed so hard he started to cry. He laughed until he couldn’t breathe, and then laughed between gasps of air.

“You’re gonna be alright kid,” Charles said with a paternal smile on his face.

The two of them kept working on the sailboat until it was almost complete. The only task left was to finish attaching all the ropes from the sails to the deck of the boat. Gareth had never been so proud of something he made with his hands. Charles was happy to have almost completed something he had dreamed of doing since childhood.

“Why don’t you just come tomorrow and we will finish this up?” Charles asked.

“That sounds good to me. I’ll see you tomorrow then!” Gareth replied.

The next day Gareth walked out of his front door and saw three cars in front of Charles’s house that he did not recognize. He wandered toward the front door, where a woman about the same age as his mother was standing.

“Are you here to see the boat?” Gareth asked the strange lady.

“What? I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” she said with large tears in her eyes. “My father just died. If you could leave us alone right now, I would appreciate it.”

“Charles?” gasped Gareth, heart racing, as he feared the answer to his question.

“You knew him?” the woman asked, surprised.

“He was my best friend,” Gareth quietly mumbled. He walked back home, tears starting to form that engulfed his eyes. As soon as he stepped inside his house, Garth started to cry, tears falling hard on his shirt like rain.

Two weeks later, Gareth was once again sitting on his bed. Gareth had been feeling down since Charles passed and couldn’t come up with an idea to cheer himself up. As he was trying to find something to do, his mom called out from downstairs. “You have a package. Come here and get it!” she hollered.

Gareth went downstairs and picked the box up off of the table. He took it to his room before opening it. He looked at the return address. Michael Smith, attorney at law, he read to himself. Slowly he started to open the package, unsure of the contents. As he peered inside, Gareth first saw a letter. He took it out and read it aloud.

“Gareth, as you read this, I know we will no longer be spending time together. I want you to understand that our time spent together meant so much to me. It gave me a reason to go on as long as I did.

“I have a few things I want you to remember always. Never change yourself to fit with others. There will always be people telling you no and trying to bully you, but they don’t matter in the slightest. I have no doubt that your future is bright. Always be open towards people. Allow them to show you their best, and most times they will. I may have been gruff when we first met, but you were able to turn me around, and I have faith that you can do the same for countless others. Finally, always believe in yourself. There is nothing you can’t do, as long as you believe.

“I knew this was coming, even before I met you, and that evening, I had a feeling it was my last. I did two things that night. The first was to write this letter. The second was to finish our boat. I’m sorry, but I really wanted to see it finished.

“Your friend, Charles.”

Gareth put the letter down and gingerly pulled out the boat. It looked beautiful in the afternoon light coming through his window. He put it up on his shelf and stared at it for a moment. He smiled and his eyes became wet as he remembered Charles, his best friend.

-J.R. Thal