“Alright, lad. Get on up,” a voice called.
“Fuu…” Walter groaned. He coughed a second later, spewing a deluge of water from his mouth and onto a wooden deck below him.
“That’s right. Best get it all out. We’ve got a lot to talk about,” The voice said.
Walter couldn’t help but notice how the speaker sounded, like someone was trying to talk through a pool noodle.
Walter hacked up more water and quite possibly a small crab. He couldn’t remember how he got here, wherever here might be. The last thing he remembered was boarding that cruise ship with the rest of his friends. And this was definitely not a cruise ship.
He was on a ship, but an old one. One of those large five-mast historical pieces Walter saw in museums or old films. However, this particular ship was covered head to toe in aquatic life. Seaweed plastered the walls, starfish and shells painted the deck, and jellyfish floated around the sails.
“Where am I?” Walter asked.
“You drowned, lad,” the voice said.
Walter looked down to see a soggy hand offered to him. He took it, shakily standing.
“That's right, easy now. Best get your sea legs."
Walter turned to see a waterlogged man helping him up. A starfish rested on the man's right eye like an eyepatch.
Walter recoiled, "Jesus!"
The man who helped him had more than just a starfish eyepatch. The man's skin was a soggy blue, as if he'd been left in water too long and started to absorb the colors, and his nose was bent out of shape like something had taken a bite out of it and spit it back out.
"Aye, it's not a pretty face," the man answered. "But I look better than what you used to, that's for sure!"
"I doubt I could look worse," Walter replied. "Wait. Hold on. Did you say I drowned?"
The man nodded, "Aye."
"You’re cranking my carburetor."
The waterlogged man furrowed his brow, "Haven't heard that one before. Though, my memory does get a bit fuzzy at times."
"I don't exactly look drowned," Walter explained, gesturing to his body.
"That's because you aren't in your body, lad," the man answered. He pointed behind Walter.
Slowly, and with growing horror, Walter turned. Behind him lay an exact copy of him but battered and bruised like old fruit. The body's skin was a pallid grey, and the face contorted in pain.
"Bad way to go, drowning," the man said. "You're what we call unlucky."
Walter whirled on the waterlogged man, "This is a prank, isn't it? You made that body double and have cameras somewhere to scare me."
"Now, that's a more common answer," the man said. "But no. And before you ask, I can prove it."
The man snapped his fingers, and Walter was underwater, his body thrashing as it gasped for oxygen. A moment later, he was back on the ship's deck. Walt inhaled, sucking in breath after breath of salty sea air.
"What," Walt gasped. "What was that?"
"Where you died, lad," the man said.
Walt whipped his head up at the man, recoiling again as he saw the drowned man. Suddenly, it all came back to him. The cruise ship, the storm, Walter's drunken dare to sneak out on the deck with his friends. His subsequent slip and fall overboard. The waves that kept pushing him further and further underwater, preventing him from coming up for air.
Walter's knees thudded onto the deck, his body starting to shake from the shock of it all.
A hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him up. "You'll be alright, lad. Shock wears off, and you don't have to worry about drowning anymore."
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"I'm. I'm dead," Walt answered. His voice felt far away.
"Aye," the man answered. "But it's not all bad. Things won't change for ya that much."
"I'm. Dead!" Walter shouted. "How is that not a big change?! In fact, how am I talking?! Is this an afterlife?! Who even are you?!"
Walter shot out the questions like a shotgun, almost speaking over himself in an attempt to let everything out.
The man looked unaffected. "Call me Davy. A lot of you do. And I've forgotten my old name. This ain't the afterlife, not quite. That comes in a bit. You're talking because that's how your soul interprets communication. And it's not all that big a change considering how you died."
Walter coughed once more, the last bit of water finally dislodged from his chest, though it still felt like he had a bit of the salty liquid stuck somewhere. "What do you mean, how I died?"
"Well," the man answered, his brow furrowed. "It's like this, I think. I used to be a god of debts. And oceans. One of those bundled deities that take on multiple roles. Like how Hades was riches and the underworld. At some point, I think, I got saddled with the underworld part too, but then things started to twist. Somehow it all got blended together. I'm not sure how; it's been a long time. Now, I'm the god of those who died at sea with debts. And you, Walter Bachson, died with a lot of debt. Sixty-two thousand, six hundred eight dollars and ninety-two cents to be exact."
Walter blinked, "Are you telling me I'm here because of my college tuition debt?"
Davy scratched at the starfish over his eye, "I guess? I'm not sure how all the specifics work. It's been a while since I last talked to someone unclaimed. Others who die tend to get whisked away by the more modern gods."
"No way," Walter said. "There's got to be a way for me to get back or something. I still need to finish college. I gotta get my degree and live my life. Find a nice place to live, have a stable job, the works, you know? There's got to be a way to get back. Right?"
Davy shook his head, "Afraid not, lad. You and I are stuck together for the time being. But you'll do fine. Your sailor skills will come in handy."
"What sailor skills?" Walter asked. "I went to college for computer science and business! I hadn't even stepped onto a boat until this cruise! I'm about as skilled as a drunk seagull!"
Davy frowned, "You're not a sailor?"
"No!" Walt shouted.
"Hmm," Davy replied, his voice gurgling. "That poses a problem. Can't have you working on a ship if you don't have the skills. Last time I did that, one of the soul sharks ate them. Wasn't a pretty sight."
Walt shuddered at the thought of a shark biting into his body.
"And I can't let you go," Davy continued.
"Why not?" Walt asked.
"Lots of reasons," Davy answered. "But mostly because lost souls cause the most problems. And you're the most lost of the lot. No belief in any kind of higher power."
"Yeah, I'm an atheist," Walter answered.
"Don't know what that means, but I can guess," Davy answered. "But it puts us in a spot it does. I need to find a place for you. Or someone willing to take you in."
The god looked over Walter, "You aren't cut out for sailing, I can tell you that. Your arms are too skinny."
Walter rubbed his arms, embarrassed. "Studying makes it hard to go to the gym," he argued.
"And you aren't cut out for hunting, I can tell," Davy continued. "In fact, you don't have the stomach for most manual labor, which makes it mighty hard for you to work off that debt."
"Hold on!" Walter argued. "I'm dead! Why do I have to work off my debt?"
"Something about death and taxes," Davy answered. "I don't quite remember why. What can you do, anyway?"
Walter found himself answering despite his misgivings. Davy's demeanor had disarmed the man. It was like interacting with an old grandparent, one who wasn't quite all there. "Management, organization, calculations, for one. I'm good at computers as well, though that's mostly so I can market myself to software firms."
"Hmm," Davy gurgled again. "Give me a moment."
Walter watched as Davy walked toward the captain's quarters, or that was what Walt assumed anyway. He wasn't exactly familiar with older ships, but the movies he'd watched gave him some understanding of the layout.
Walter decided to wait while Davy went about his business. The so-called god didn't seem all that bad, all things considered. Walt was still apprehensive about the whole died at sea thing, but for some reason, he couldn't find it in himself to act more upset. Too many impossible things were happening around Walt for him to consider this as anything other than an afterlife.
While Davy worked in the background, Walter took stock of his surroundings once more. Now that he wasn't panicked, the man noticed that he was completely underwater, the ship submerged under a swirling sea. Currents of water, visible only by the flotsam running through them, moved a boat around in various directions. Sea animals of all kinds flowed around the old vessel, and Walter almost reached out to touch a rainbow fish that swam past.
"Best be careful with that," Davy said, startling Walter. "Those are Lurefish. They like to steal souls from ships and leave them stranded in the waters."
Walter quickly retracted his hand. He turned back to Davy, only to see another person standing beside him.
"This is him?" the figure asked.
"Aye," Davy answered.
"He doesn't look like much," the figure answered. Only now did Walter realize that the person next to Davy looked formless. It was like the shape of a person was there, but none of the features.