Slim’s Star

There really was no way of telling what Slim was thinking. No matter what was on his mind, he always wore the same tired, sorrowful look. It was a look that left a person wondering, after they’d seen him, what terrible thing he must have experienced in his past. What tragedy he must have had a hand in, to leave that unmistakable weight of guilt in his eyes.

Tonight it was a look that suited him well. He gripped the railing just a little bit too tightly as his legs dangled over the edge of the boat, high above the caress of the water. He looked down on the stillness. There were no waves tonight. There was no wind. The boat glided so smoothly through the water that no matter how hard Slim squinted he could not see any difference between now and when it had been docked unmoving in the harbor a few hours ago.

The stars glittered in the cold night above him, and more stars glittered back in a second sky below him, reflected in the depths. He wondered if perhaps, when the Titanic had sunk, they had been swallowed by a sky like this one. If perhaps they were sleeping among the stars right now. He closed his eyes and pictured it. The mighty ship sliding into the ocean’s embrace. The sobbing and the screaming, soon silenced. None of them realizing that they weren’t sinking – they were flying.

He loosened his grip on the railing and exhaled slowly. It was a good way to die. He stood and turned to look at the boat. The workers making their rounds and doing jobs on the main deck before him. The people chatting, eating, talking to each other inside, behind windows lit by candles and fancy chandeliers. This was meant to be a party boat; a celebration at sea. None of them knew that they were smiling and laughing in a coffin. This was their Titanic, floating on top of its own watery sky.

Slim made his way to the lower deck. He gave a heavy smile to anyone he passed. They smiled back, oblivious. They were all too caught up in the cheer of the party to worry about things like life and death. They had no reason to suspect that they had only minutes left to enjoy it.

He found himself standing in a hallway. From here only a wall separated him from the water outside. A wall that wouldn’t be there for long. All that Slim had to do was press a button, and the pack of explosives that he had attached to the wall would detonate.

He would be standing there when it happened. Sinking would have been a good way to die; an honorable way. But he didn’t deserve honor. He wasn’t going to get to sleep in the same sky as everybody else. In a few moments he was going to be swallowed by a star of his own making. All that he had to do was press the little red button taped to the wall in front of him.

He reached forward. He was sweating now, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the stuffy heat here so near all of the machinery, or if he was nervous, feeling the scorch of the blast before it happened.

His fingers trembled as his hand found the button. All it would take now was pressure. A flick of his finger now, and his star would be born.

One breath. Two. A third one, final, escaped him like a sigh.

And it was a glorious star.