His hands found another hole and gave it a cork and the bleeding stopped. His feet worked along the wood submerged under the cold blood and his ears listened for the sound of another crack coming up. He felt over an iron bar and turned his head to hear the wooden wall on the other half of the ship begin to ply apart and let the cold trickle in. In a moment it could be gushing. He swiveled and stepped over the web of rusted pipes and piled corks and blood buckets, placing his feet in the pitch black without catching a sharp corner against the toes that were left.
The voice came from above before the sky swung open and the world became bathed by light and was unwitnessable. Louder noises than any he heard while he could see sounded about him and voices said unrecognizable things.
“Till’ Tomorrow Dae!”
The sky slammed shut and the world came back into view. The blood buckets were gone and empty ones were left where they’d resided.
In the chaos he’d let the sound of the cold fall away, and now it had come back far larger than it had been. A torrent of noise and the chill of the ship’s blood ran over his feet and blinded his step. He stepped cautiously forward to find a metal pipe where it hadn’t been before. The rust caught the back of his heel and scraped up along it till it folded him over and backwards. He fell down hard in the cold and felt his rags cling to his body as he brought himself back up.
Behind him another crack came. He looked for the corks but they’d been thrown about when he’d been knocked over. His fingers desperately searched the cold blood, being nicked off by the sharp pipes in every lunge and dying the cold a deeper red. In another minute he only had the smallest fingers on his hand left. He found a cork, just big enough, and lifted it between the two stumps of his hands by his two fingers. The cold came up to his belly and gave his body a good shake and sent the pipes rushing about, slashing into his skin and piercing the thin part of his foot like a nail.
“Dae! The water!”
The voice came and he went beneath the water to hide from the tearing of the sky. But it didn’t come. Another moment and the world leaned over and sent the cold towards the side where the smaller crack was. The cold drowned the smaller crack and starved the bigger hole. The voice didn’t come again but there was screaming and the sound of loud bangs and sad cries above where the people beyond the sky resided. The world righted itself and when it did the smaller crack had become larger and released a great stream of blood that let him float off his toes.
He couldn’t feel the ground. He felt occasionally a pipe go by, but they moved now much the same as he did, and weren’t so violent as they’d been. The corks came by his head and he tried to reach for one but couldn’t with only two small fingers. He spun around and saw the first crack now turned into a fissure, pumping the cold blood of the sea into the ship.
He thought of what he could do, but could think of nothing, and wondered, how different was he from these corks and pipes anyways. Somebody should come down and use him to plug the hole. But nobody came and soon the cold had about swallowed the entire ship and just then the sounds above the sky became quieter and then silent entirely and the ship itself floated just like he’d floated.
He swam towards the fissure because the water was colder and not as red and felt good against his wounded body. He reached its edge and peered out and looked down as far as he could till the darkness was darker than his and felt he could see everything there. He floated out and turned back and saw the world from its outside float and dance down into the darkness. He was floating in the wrong direction, so he breathed in deep, and gave his lungs the breath of his world.
His body floated and danced with the ship down towards the abyss and towards a better place.