The Green Oceans container ship Embark raised anchor and prepared to leave the port of Tokyo. It had unloaded some cargo and took on some others en route to America. Konstantiniadis had taken the plane. He was to be in his New York office in three days.
The day after the Embark left Japanese waters, Shoji Kawamura stepped out of the bridge and onto the rail. Being in the middle of the sea felt different from viewing it from land. It was beautiful; and the air from the ocean was invigorating.
"It's quite an experience, isn't it?" asked the captain, who came out of the bridge behind him.
"Yes," agreed Shoji, "it's amazing! It feels so different from being on the beach."
"Yes, the sea is an amazing place," said the captain, "amazing and a times difficult. It's what separates the true human beings from the timid ones."
He leaned on the rail at Shoji's right. "Yes," he continued, "life here can be difficult at times. But the difficulty is too small compared to the excitement and adventure life on the sea can become. Not many people can look a man straight in the eye and say they're truly alive than a sailor. There is one exception."
"Exception?" Shoji asked, looking at the captain.
"Soldiers."
Shoji turned his gaze to the see again.
"Why don't you get down below," said the captain, patting Shoji's back, "get yourself acquainted with the others."
He returned to the bridge. Shoji lingered for a while, then left for his quarters.
He shared his room with three other people. Two were sailors and the third was an African-American named Simon Foster. Simon wanted to become a player in the NBA but didn't make the cut. He tried to become a rapper but nobody noticed him. Finally, he decided to go to Japan to learn how to draw manga, hoping to become a manga artist. That's when he came across Konstantiniadis' book. He became friends with Shoji when the latter joined Konstantiniadis.
"Hey there, m'man," he said as Shoji returned to the room. He had been drawing a few sketches while the Shoji was away.
"Hi," said Shoji as he climbed into his bunk.
"So what're we gonna do now while the ship's movin'?" asked Simon.
"Well," replied Shoji, "the captain said we should get to meet the others on this ship."
"I dunno, man," said Simon, "there ain't many of 'em."
"Come on, it'll be fine," said Shoji. He climbed down, took Simon by the hand and led him out of the room. "Exploring a ship was an adventure in itself," he continued, "and besides, if you want to become a good artist, you have to improve your drawing techniques. Drawing objects is as important as drawing people!"
In the ship's canteen, they met some forty other individuals who had boarded the ship under circumstances similar to theirs. Some of them were from Japan, while others came from other countries: India, Indonesia, China, South Korea and the Philippines. There was even one person from North Korea with a very interesting story: he had gotten hold of a Chinese translation of Konstantiniadis' book and read it while on the run in China. When in Shanghai, he learned the Embark had made port. In the night, when the ship was leaving the harbor he swam to it. His name was Kim Nam-ha and he was the same age as Shoji.
As meeting the different personalities went on, Shoji noticed a young girl sitting at a table in the corner, keeping to herself. She was Japanese.
Shoji approached her; as he did, she looked up. "Hello," he said, "Are you lonely?"
"Not really," she replied.
"You're nervous, then?"
"I guess so."
Shoji held out his hand. "I know," he said, "we all are, one way or another. I'm Shoji, Shoji Kawamura."
"Chidori," said the girl, "I'm Chidori Kanda."
"Chidori?" Shoji remarked. "That's a nice name."
She blushed as Shoji sat down.
Simon was talking to a young, unmarried, Japanese couple. The woman was with child. As he spoke with them, he noticed Shoji sitting down and chatting with a girl. After a while, the pair stood up and walked off.
Simon smiled.
Mrs. Kawamura returned from shopping in the early evening and saw the light in Shoji's room still on. "Oh, that boy," she remarked. "Still forgetting to turn the lights off in the morning."
After putting the shopping bags in the kitchen, she went upstairs to turn the lights off in her son's room when she noticed a sheet of paper lying on his rather untidy bed. She bent over and picked it up.
Mr. Kawamura returned from work and had just parked his car in the garage when he heard his wife wailing from their son's room. He rushed in and found her on her knees, sobbing. "Darling," he asked, "What's wrong?"
She couldn't speak,only sob. With trembling hands, she pointed at the piece of paper on Shoji's bed.
Mr. Kawamura picked it up.
I'm leaving. Thanks for everything.
Shoji
Mr. Kawamura held his wife tightly and sighed heavily. Their son was gone.
Chris put The Dream of the Oceans down on the table. He was in his Italian-style mansion in Kuala Lumpur. He had already finished reading the Verne book. "You are dangerous," he said to Konstantiniadis' book.
His gaze turned to the fireplace. It was seldom used, but tonight a fire had been lit. After stoking the fire until it was bright and hot enough, he picked up Konstantiniadis' book and threw it into the flames.
The day after the Embark left Japanese waters, Shoji Kawamura stepped out of the bridge and onto the rail. Being in the middle of the sea felt different from viewing it from land. It was beautiful; and the air from the ocean was invigorating.
"It's quite an experience, isn't it?" asked the captain, who came out of the bridge behind him.
"Yes," agreed Shoji, "it's amazing! It feels so different from being on the beach."
"Yes, the sea is an amazing place," said the captain, "amazing and a times difficult. It's what separates the true human beings from the timid ones."
He leaned on the rail at Shoji's right. "Yes," he continued, "life here can be difficult at times. But the difficulty is too small compared to the excitement and adventure life on the sea can become. Not many people can look a man straight in the eye and say they're truly alive than a sailor. There is one exception."
"Exception?" Shoji asked, looking at the captain.
"Soldiers."
Shoji turned his gaze to the see again.
"Why don't you get down below," said the captain, patting Shoji's back, "get yourself acquainted with the others."
He returned to the bridge. Shoji lingered for a while, then left for his quarters.
He shared his room with three other people. Two were sailors and the third was an African-American named Simon Foster. Simon wanted to become a player in the NBA but didn't make the cut. He tried to become a rapper but nobody noticed him. Finally, he decided to go to Japan to learn how to draw manga, hoping to become a manga artist. That's when he came across Konstantiniadis' book. He became friends with Shoji when the latter joined Konstantiniadis.
"Hey there, m'man," he said as Shoji returned to the room. He had been drawing a few sketches while the Shoji was away.
"Hi," said Shoji as he climbed into his bunk.
"So what're we gonna do now while the ship's movin'?" asked Simon.
"Well," replied Shoji, "the captain said we should get to meet the others on this ship."
"I dunno, man," said Simon, "there ain't many of 'em."
"Come on, it'll be fine," said Shoji. He climbed down, took Simon by the hand and led him out of the room. "Exploring a ship was an adventure in itself," he continued, "and besides, if you want to become a good artist, you have to improve your drawing techniques. Drawing objects is as important as drawing people!"
In the ship's canteen, they met some forty other individuals who had boarded the ship under circumstances similar to theirs. Some of them were from Japan, while others came from other countries: India, Indonesia, China, South Korea and the Philippines. There was even one person from North Korea with a very interesting story: he had gotten hold of a Chinese translation of Konstantiniadis' book and read it while on the run in China. When in Shanghai, he learned the Embark had made port. In the night, when the ship was leaving the harbor he swam to it. His name was Kim Nam-ha and he was the same age as Shoji.
As meeting the different personalities went on, Shoji noticed a young girl sitting at a table in the corner, keeping to herself. She was Japanese.
Shoji approached her; as he did, she looked up. "Hello," he said, "Are you lonely?"
"Not really," she replied.
"You're nervous, then?"
"I guess so."
Shoji held out his hand. "I know," he said, "we all are, one way or another. I'm Shoji, Shoji Kawamura."
"Chidori," said the girl, "I'm Chidori Kanda."
"Chidori?" Shoji remarked. "That's a nice name."
She blushed as Shoji sat down.
Simon was talking to a young, unmarried, Japanese couple. The woman was with child. As he spoke with them, he noticed Shoji sitting down and chatting with a girl. After a while, the pair stood up and walked off.
Simon smiled.
Mrs. Kawamura returned from shopping in the early evening and saw the light in Shoji's room still on. "Oh, that boy," she remarked. "Still forgetting to turn the lights off in the morning."
After putting the shopping bags in the kitchen, she went upstairs to turn the lights off in her son's room when she noticed a sheet of paper lying on his rather untidy bed. She bent over and picked it up.
Mr. Kawamura returned from work and had just parked his car in the garage when he heard his wife wailing from their son's room. He rushed in and found her on her knees, sobbing. "Darling," he asked, "What's wrong?"
She couldn't speak,only sob. With trembling hands, she pointed at the piece of paper on Shoji's bed.
Mr. Kawamura picked it up.
I'm leaving. Thanks for everything.
Shoji
Mr. Kawamura held his wife tightly and sighed heavily. Their son was gone.
Chris put The Dream of the Oceans down on the table. He was in his Italian-style mansion in Kuala Lumpur. He had already finished reading the Verne book. "You are dangerous," he said to Konstantiniadis' book.
His gaze turned to the fireplace. It was seldom used, but tonight a fire had been lit. After stoking the fire until it was bright and hot enough, he picked up Konstantiniadis' book and threw it into the flames.
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