Top of the Slide Part Three

Captain William McCarthy and his squadron had rescued the crew. His unit that had been instructed to release any British men or women who had been held captive by the Chinese; McCarthy explained this himself, and it was only afterward that the crew had found out that the Lilli Elithiac had been destroyed, used for firewood and wagons to carry firearms. This had been hard to cope with.
Heinsbrooke and his crew had spent a long night reminiscing of the years they had been sailing together, each letting go of the vessel that had carried them around the world. Bruce promised they would purchase a new ship when they arrived back in Britain, but he could tell by the sullen look on his crew’s faces that they would never sail together again. They had been tried to hard and cut too deep. This was something Bruce thought he cold live with.
One day after being rescued, they sailed back to Britain.
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A ship sailed into the horizon, sun meeting sea in a seamless line, blue melting into blue, and light floating lazily overhead. The boat rocked and dipped as wind filled the sails, a tall and lanky sailor at its helm, watching the nothing in the distance.
Much had happened since leaving his home, a metamorphosis of sorts, and a nightmare that had resulted in the change of more than one life style. Things would continue to change, lives would continue to bloom like flowers in the spring sunshine, ivy climbing up the walls of brownstones, wind rustling through feelings of nostalgia, when the world was in order and life had been sweet.
Now the figure at the bow of the boat was older, in a way that cannot be measured by time or intellect. He had seen things he had never wanted to see, done things he hadn’t wanted to do, But don’t we all, he thought with a certain degree of bitterness. He looked to the setting sun, a cliché, as it were. It didn’t matter. Not anymore.
He was going home.