It’s funny how time works, sometimes it’s so fast we barely think it happens, like when we get to close to Christmas and all people can say is “wow hasn’t this year gone fast.” Then there are the periods where time does seem to stand still. Of course time doesn’t change, well not for you normal folk anyway, but our brains still like to play tricks on us. And that’s kind of what mine was doing after I used the dial for a second time.
I was sitting somewhere, unlike the previous time I wasn’t sitting on grass whatever I was sitting on it was harder, it felt a bit like wood. My legs were dangling in the air like I was sitting on the edge of something and my hands were flat on my legs. For some reason I couldn’t open my eyes but the smell of salt that stung my nose seemed to be telling me I was near the beach. Why I couldn’t open my eyes I was not sure but I seemed to remember a similar feeling when I landed at Woodstock so instead of forcing anything I just relaxed and waited for whatever it was to catch up to me.
A few moments later with the feeling of a breeze across my face and the smell of salt water still in my nostrils the sense of hearing came back to me. I’ve never been deaf and I wouldn’t pretend to be for fun but I can only imagine coming through whatever it is I came through causes some kind of deafness as well as some kind of time dilation, because as well as not being able to open my eyes I wasn’t hearing anything up until that point.
Although I was kind of convinced that time wasn’t standing still that’s exactly how it felt and within moments I was suddenly bombarded with the ability to feel, smell, hear and finally see. I opened my eyes.
I was sitting on a pier, a jetty, I looked around me without trying to make it too obvious I was confused in case someone was watching me. It wasn’t just a pier it was a marina and there was yachts moored either side of me. I was sitting on a pier, with my legs dangling down towards the water, the bow of one yacht to my left and the stern of another, with the name Ruffles and Cayman Islands written on it, to my right.
I suspected it was a marina of some sort because of the noises I could hear, voices, engines, water lapping hulls, water gently lapping beneath the wooden deck I was sitting on and a thousand other noises I couldn’t immediately place, but most of all it was the smell. Of course I couldn’t hear what any of the voices were saying because they blended into the surrounding noise but it also wasn’t entirely comforting knowing that I was amongst people.
Several thoughts swirled through my mind. Where exactly was I? Should I get up and go looking for Téa? Should I wait for her to find me? Should I be worried about the old lady? Of course for every question my brain asked there was multiple other questions that arose, all questions I didn’t have definitive answers for.
Exactly how long I sat there for I wasn’t sure, as I’ve suggested there was moments where time seemed to be standing still so I could have sat there for ten minutes with a dead slow brain, or ten seconds with a hyper active brain, I just did not know. In the end I decided to go for a walk.
I stood up then spent a moment looking around me. I was definitely in a marina of some sort because in every direction there was yachts moored in a similar way to the two beside me. I couldn’t really tell what sort of yachts I was surrounded by, but the multitude of tall masts seemed to indicate they were all big ones.
I headed left, only because to my right the jetty ended about thirty meters from where I stood. I looked at each yacht as I walked, most of them had at least one person on them or around them, some were busying themselves with what I presumed were yacht based tasks, while others stood there staring at me. Their stares made me feel uncomfortable and I found myself on more than on occasion nodding my head towards them or saying hello as if I was trying to assure them they had no reason to question my presence.
I kept walking along the jetty, taking several turns and roughly heading towards the large building which I assumed was the yacht club or some such thing. Along the way I had to side step to avoid two people walking in my direction, they were in single file but neither them or I was paying enough attention to where we were headed. Because of that lack of attention we of course had to side step more than once in some strange dance like manoeuvrer.
“Oops. Sorry. Excuse me. Sorry. My fault!” I said as we preformed our little dance.
“Oh, you’re one of them!” the first man said in a thick American accent.
“One of who?” I asked.
“Those annoying fucking Aussies.” The man said over his shoulder.
I still didn’t know exactly where I was, or when I was, but comments and digs about people because of race is nothing new, it doesn’t make all people arseholes, or one country worse than another, it’s just one of those things you witness a minority of brainless twits do from time to time. I had no intention of responding to such a comment but even if I did I wouldn’t have got a chance before the second man responded.
“Why don’t you fuck off and join the rest of them?” The second man said, his accent wasn’t as thick but it was still easily distinguishable as American.
Obviously I didn’t know what either of them were talking about but I also didn’t care I didn’t have time for such people no matter where I was.
A few moments later when I stepped up onto a high level of the jetty I realised what the two American’s must have been referring too when they mentioned joining the rest of them. All I had to figure out now was what the rest of them were doing.
Previous story here.