FlintHamilton + Well there are the monsters?
He’d bought the single-masted, square-rigged boat from an aging fisherman who needed extra money. He’d only ever taken Thomas out on a ship once, and that was nearly twelve years ago when his colors were still navy blue.
Now, on the Carolina coastline not too far away from land they had dropped anchor. It was a pleasant day; overcast but not threatening rain and with a steady breeze.
James realized he had missed this.
Thomas called to him from the chair he sat on in the middle of the small deck. He held up the book he’d brought along and smiled, index finger stuck in-between his pages.
“Recognize this?” he asked.
James took the book from him, keeping his pages. He looked over the cover and binding and opened it to the marked page.
“Historia de Gentibus Septentrionalibus,” he said with near impeccable pronunciation. “By Olaus Magnus.”
“You do remember,” said Thomas with a little surprise.
James grinned, running his palm over the opened pages. “I remember the title and author, at least. And this.”
He handed the book back to Thomas and together they looked at the two-page illustrated map therein. It was quite spectacular, James thought. The map was a portion of northern Europe, complete with boarders, place names, and pictures of the various landscapes.
“The most detailed and accurate map of the Nordic lands at the time of its creation in the 1500s,” said Thomas. “This is the second edition. 1572.”
“Beautiful,” remarked James. “And still mostly accurate, yes?”
Thomas nodded. “Yes. Well, there are the monsters.”
James chuckled. In addition to the landscape, the ocean on the map was filled with sea creatures, a rather absurd number of them.
Thomas grinned and ran a finger along his lips.
“I recall you asking me a long time ago if I had ever seen any during my naval trips,” said James.
“And now? After all that time in the West Indies?”
James shook his head. “I’ve seen plenty of monstrous-sized animals. Sharks, a giant squid once, but none of these. They are all make believe, made to impress and frighten.”
James straightened up. He laid his hands on Thomas’s shoulders, massaging them gently. Thomas raised his fingertips to graze James’s.
“I suppose it depends on one’s perspective,” said Thomas. “All creatures, even sea monsters, are only trying to find food and water and to reproduce. Trying to survive.”
James stilled his hands on Thomas’s shoulders. He dragged his thumbs over the sides of his neck.
“Humans are the only true monsters,” he said quietly.
Thomas rose. He laid the book down in the chair and slid his arms over James’s shoulders, moving in for a kiss.
“None of that,” he replied softly, sapphire eyes boring into James’s sea-green ones.
The shadow that had landed on James’s face disappeared just as quickly.
“Sorry,” he said, a bit sheepishly.
Thomas shook his head. “Nevermind it. Come show me how to take in the sail again. I want to be a sailor by the time we return to land.”
They went over to the boat’s mast and James went about instructing Thomas, his entire demeanor changing into that of an experienced mariner who loved teaching his trade to his lover. And if there were sea monsters somewhere deep below them, James decided it was a waste of time to dwell on them. He no longer needed the cold comfort of monstrous things.
