Tired. Sore. Groggy.

These were not things one would expect a mostly motionless sailing ship to be feeling. Nevertheless, he felt them all keenly.

The Ship opened his "eyes" - his awareness of his surroundings. He was still unsure of how this all worked. Did he have actual eyes somewhere, or perhaps he was some kind of ghost haunting this ship. Could that be it?

"Am I a ghost?" he thought. That would make more sense than being a sentient boat.

No. That didn't work. If he was a ghost, then when he broke his oar on the sand, it wouldn't have hurt so much. Somehow he felt that he was alive.

Mentally, he searched within himself. Nothing changed since last night. He had an awareness of being a very large, yet very "beached" ship. He could move some things - in a ghostly fashion - and yet in other ways he was no more than an inanimate object. He didn't seem to possess any kind of magical abilities that he could tell.

"Except that I'm somehow alive, a boat, and I can see and hear."

He blasted his horn in frustration.

Bwaaaah!

"H - Hello?"

He heard a small voice close to his hull - the smaller exposed part where he leaned to one side. Was someone there?

He zoomed his awareness around - apparently he didn't have quite a 360 degree 'vision' - or perhaps it was an artifact of his past ... life?

Standing before him was a little girl, maybe around five years old. Her face was downcast and her shoulders were hunched, almost in fear. She was wearing a plain white garment - almost like a sackcloth with two holes for arms , one for her head, and the bottom cut out for her legs. Her hair was long, limp, and white. The hair covered part of her face, but what he could see was one deep green eye with mud on her face, and streaks down her cheek like she had been crying. There was also a small crudely made doll hanging from a bit of leather around her neck. She clutched it seemingly for security. It was made of sticks and string, with crude buttons for eyes. A smile had been painted across it's face with red paint. It looked cute, and a little terrifying.

The little girl looked up - seeking the source of the horn. She seemed like she was ready to run away at any moment. Her uncovered eye darted up and about - and she glanced behind her back to the jungle beyond the beach.

"Hello? Is anyone there? Is this your boat?" Her voice quavered in fear.

Powerless to do anything else, the Ship tooted his horn again - briefly.

The little girl jumped. She took a step or two backward.

'Wait! No don't go!' The Ship called out in his mind.

The little girl turned her head to the side - almost like how a puppy might if it heard a high pitched whistle. Oddly, her face continued to be mostly obscured by her hair.

"Um. Where are you? I can't see you." she asked. She glanced around nervously.

'Wait. Did you just hear me?' The Ship thought.

"Y - yes? Why don't you come out? Are you magic t-" the girl bit her lip.

The Ship mentally jumped for joy. The rudder splashed a big wave. The horn tooted again.

This time the girl turned away - about to make a break for it.

'No - no! Please wait! I'm just so happy! I wasn't thinking. I thought no one would ever hear me again.' The Ship called out mentally.

The girl paused. She tipped her head to the side again. Tentatively, she pressed her hand to the hull.

"Never hear you? Why? Is it because you're sick? Why are you hiding in this boat? Why are you here?" Her uncovered eyebrow was raised in curiosity. She made another nervous glance back to the jungle. Her bottom lip jutted out in a pout of confusion.

'Um. I don't quite know. You see I only woke up yesterday. And I discovered that ... I'm apparently this ship you see before you. I'm not IN the ship. I AM the ship. I'm so confused. '

The little girl's eye widened. A small smile crossed over her dirty face. "You're a boat? " Then she frowned. Her little face was so cute - and her expressions changed every second it seemed.

"Wait. Boats don't talk. You're teasing me. Everybody teases me." Again the pout. She clutched the little doll tightly and turned away.

'No please! Wait! I - I can prove it.' The Ship dropped his anchor, splashed his rudder and spun the main sail around in a circle. He pulled three of his oars out and waved them about. ( Ouch! The fourth oar was still very broken - and hurt a lot!)

'See? How could I do that all at once? And you see? No people.'

"Eek! Ghost boat!" The girl turned and ran back toward the jungle.

'No! Wait! Please!' He called.

She disappeared into the green foliage.

Crestfallen, his oars drooped.

'I'm doomed.' He thought.

'Ugh. Idiot! What's the first thing you do when finally someone talks to you? You scare them away!' He smacked his oar against his hull, like someone hitting their forehead with the palm of their hand. Ouch! That hurt!

'Ok. Note to self. Stop hurting myself.'

Inwardly, the Ship sighed. His horn bleated sadly.

Suddenly, he heard something from the jungle beyond. Shouts. Yelling. A language he couldn't quite understand.

A moment later he saw the girl again. She was in a dead run. She burst from the jungle like a cannonball and her feet tore huge gouts of sand as she pelted towards the boat. Behind her was more shouting and yelling. The Ship had never seen anyone run as fast as this girl did - back to the boat. But of course, his memory only consisted of two days experience. Perhaps everyone in this world was a championship sprinter like this girl?

Breathless she skid to a stop before the boat.

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"Mister Boat! Mister Ghost! Please! You gotta help me!"

'I'm .. I'm not a ghost. At least I don't think I am.' The Ship replied sheepishly.

The girl's wide eye stared back at the jungle. Apparently something terrified her more than the idea of a spooky boat? The Ship shuddered mentally.

'I don't know how to help you, little girl. What is wrong?' he asked mentally.

"THEY are coming. They are coming to get me! I can't go back!" Her small dirty face closed in consternation. "I WON'T go back!"

'Well, little girl. I wish I could help you. You see I'm stuck here. I think normally I could float on the water. Maybe if I was unstuck I could take you away, but I was beached here.' the Ship explained slowly.

"Oh! You're trapped here too? Like me? But." Her little face screwed up in concentration . "If you could float, you ... you would take me away? Away from THEM?"

At that moment a group of men - dressed in rags and what looked like very colorful feathers and ... bones ... burst out of the jungle. They cast about desperately looking - apparently for the little girl. They were carrying spears and two had wicked looking sabers.

"AHHH! THEY found me!" The girl screeched.

"Look Mister Ghost Boat. If I can get you in the water, will you take me away?" She stared - her one uncovered eye pleading, desperate.

'Um. Sure.' What did he have to lose? Of course who knew if they executed boats for kidnapping. But those natives did NOT look friendly. As a matter of fact, they were now being very unfriendly as they ran ( considerably slower than the little girl - the Ship noticed) directly toward them. Waving spears and sabers and calling at the top of their lungs.

"Ok. You promise. Right?" She bounced up in down on her heels in terror at the men running toward them.

Something odd came over the Ship. There was this feeling. Like falling, or a wind blowing upward through his body. 'I swear. I will protect you from them. If you help me get off this beach.' he thought with all of his mental abilities.

The little girl's partially obscured face lit up. "-kay! Let's go!"

What happened next The Ship would remember for as long as he lived. In his short experience with being alive, he seemed to know about things like children - people, things, how the world worked. Memories that someone who had just been "born" yesterday shouldn't have. So it was with great surprise that he watched the girl run up to the hull - put her shoulder to the smooth wood, and begin pushing.

'Oh no. This is not going to end well.' He thought.

But. Something happened. The Ship shuddered.

'What?'

With his awareness, he saw the sand beneath the girl's feet grow solid. Rocky. The girl's white hair gained a reddish tinge at the tips. Her green eye grew dark - almost black. Her bare feet pressed against the now rocky ground. They also grew dark. Veins of orange threaded up from the soles of her feet and glowed fiercely -- almost like lava flowing around rock.

"Get ready to pick me up Mister Ghost Boat. I can't swim." She said through gritted teeth.

Another lurch. What was happening? How? How could a little five year old girl be doing this?

The natives had reached the beach and were screaming at the top of their lungs. Two spears flew. One bounced off the hull, harmlessly. The other gouged out a wood chip. Ouch!

Whoomp! Splash! The Ship carved into the water. Huge gouts of water splashed on either side. He was free! He could finally feel the water beneath him. If felt ... right.

"Save me mister boat" the girl screamed. The natives were reaching out - about to grab her. He had to DO something! What?

The oars? Too fragile ( he cringed). The cannons? No, he would NOT kill. What was left? The anchor! Summoning all his willpower, he played out his anchor - spun it like some kind of acrobat - then hurled it to the feet of the girl. Her hair and body were once again human-like ( had he imagined that?) and she spat out some sand that had struck her on the impact of the anchor.

'Climb up! Grab the anchor!' he called in his mind.

Nodding jerkily - her face a mask of terror - she scrambled up the anchor and along the chain. Her movements were faster than the Ship would have expected of a little girl, but he was growing to realize this was NOT just a little girl. She spidered up the chain and managed to reach the hull. It was too far for her to grab on to the ledge. What to do?

Suddenly inspired - the Ship whipped the chain of the anchor like a jump rope. The wave carried up the chain and the girl went flying. Oh no! Too hard!

The natives were bellowing like there was no tomorrow now and tossing more spears. Two had dove into the water and were swimming frantically to the Ship.

As the girl arced up in the air - screaming - The Ship listed to one side - his oars whipping the water like a fish's tail - and he caught the girl as she came down with his main sail. He corkscrewed the sail in a slow turn - and the girl caught the fabric and slid down gently to the deck. Only a small bump has she hit the wood on her backside.

Yanking the anchor back like a whip ( it thunked heavily against the hull - OUCH again!) Some instinct took over and the Ship rowed further and further out to sea. It couldn't go straight as one oar was out, but it managed to outpace the natives.

Then - suddenly - WHOOMP! The sails caught the wind.

The Ship felt something stir within it. Some primordial memory. Some magical instinct. It FELT the ocean. The waves. The winds. It was like suddenly zooming out to a magical map of the water. He could SEE the wind. FEEL the currents. Vaguely he felt the presence of the little girl. She was giggling.

"Do it again spooky ship! I wanna slide again!"

'Um, let's get out of here first. Maybe?'

The little white haired girl stomped over to the gunwale and looked out over the water - back at the rapidly shrinking island and it's angry inhabitants. She stuck out her tongue in a very un-ladylike fashion.

"Neyah! " she called out. Then she turned away - facing the deck and slid with her back to the side and sat down on the deck with a thump. Her little doll clutched in one hand.

The Ship spared a glance her way as he caught a major gust. The Ship took off like a shot - and soon they were on the open ocean. No islands in sight. The blue sky was clear - except for a small trail of black smoke - coming from the direction of the island they had just escaped.

The Ship noticed the girls shoulders were shaking. A tear ran down her muddy cheek.

'Are. Are you ok? I'm sorry about the chain thing. I've never done anything like that before. Are you - are you hurt?' The Ship thought with concern.

"I'm mm-kay". She sniffed. She wiped her nose with the back of her free hand.

The Ship cut through the water like a knife through hot butter. Every so often a bigger wave would split and a big splash would erupt on either side. The Ship felt like he had come fully alive. THIS was where he belonged. Not beached like some driftwood. but HERE, out on the open water.

"My - my name's Toan." he heard the girl say. "This is Spear" - she held up the bedraggled doll. "What" *sniff* "What's your name mister ghost boat?"

'Well, first off.. I'm NOT a ghost. Nice to meet you Toan. And, uh Spear. And as for my name? Uh. Well. I don't really know.' he replied sheepishly.

The little girl sniffed again. Then she smiled a little and stood up, unsteadily as the boat rocked in the waves. The wind whipped up and tugged at the little girl's white hair. The other side of her face was suddenly exposed by the wind, before she quickly pulled the hair back. What the Ship saw was confirmation that this little girl was NOT just a little girl. One side of her face was smooth and childlike. With a chubby girl cheek and an eye of deep forest green. Her skin pink and smooth ( though a bit muddy ). The other top left side was a dark black - the skin broken and cracked like dried stone. Within the cracks was an orange glow that seemed to flow slowly - the impression was one of looking at living rock and lava flowing. The feature that made the Ship start however was her eye. It was twice as large as the other - a deep glowing red, and the iris was catlike. A dark vertical strip bifurcated the orb and shifted around as she looked.

And as quickly - it was gone. Hidden under her long white hair.

"Are you scared of me now, mister ghost ship? Because I'm ugly?" she sniffed again.

'Ugly? My dear girl, you are my savior? You are beautiful beyond words.'

She giggled a bit - surprised. "THEY call me Ugly. THEY think I'm .. BAD."

'Oh Toan. I think you are a good many things. But bad is not one of them. Would you be so bad since you just saved us? I'm only two days old, but I'd say I'm an excelled judge of character' the Ship said in a lofty joking tone.

The girl convulsively giggled again. "I like you Mister Ship. I'm going to give you a name. Izzat ok?" She looked hopeful, expectant. Her bottom lip came out again.

'Oh, how could I resist a sweet face like that?' he said - then immediately regretted it.

She looked down at her doll. "Spear says we should name you something after something important. What was that thing you used to pull me up? That big metal thing?"

'Oh? I believe it's called an anchor. It's what I would use to stop somewhere so I won't drift away'

Toan smiled. Her smile was bright as the sun. "Anker. That's a good name. So you wont go away right?" she sniffed again, looking down at her doll.

'I made a promise, right? And it's Anchor... oh neverminded. Anker sounds right.''

Toan smiled wider. Her teeth were perfect and white. Ugly? Hardly!

Another gust of wind. Another glimpse of ... something else ...

Toan shivered. "Um. Anker. " Toan bit her lip. "Do you have a ... a potty?"

'Oh! Umm... Yes! I think I do. '