Leviathan

July 12, 2026

Have I ever told you about the time I was on a boat in the middle of the ocean? It was an old, single-masted whaling ship, made all of wood.

It was me, the captain, and his mate. We were sailing north to deliver something, but they wouldn't tell me what. All I can remember is the terrible sounds, as I was tethered below deck, near to the captain's rifle (just out of reach) and his Bible (just within). The joints of the wooden hull bound on themselves as they racked under the pressure of each wave. Groaning under the pressure. Just groaning and groaning. I thought the vessel would to burst into a million pieces and slingshot me straight to heaven if I didn’t hit the sea floor first... Just groaning under the pressure, I'm telling you....but we had to deliver something...we just had to.

The mate came down to bring me above deck, and I asked if we were in danger, and he told me-

"Don’t say anything that the captain can hear."

I shut my trap and focused on the splintery planks beneath my feet, and then the captain emerged. He was in a rage. He didn't want to give me away. I was too valuable, but he didn't know how to use me, and God knew it. The sea became furious as the captain fired his rifle into the sky and the waves crashed over us. They were foamy and white, and it was hard to keep my footing as the bow pitched, the joints groaned, and the sea swelled all around our vessel.

We were there. The captain cursed God with distorted sounds that were not words, and I fell over the bullwark, or maybe I jumped- anything was better than the captain's shrieking- and I swam to the sea bottom where I met a great leviathan who said to me:

"Matt, I have such faith in you that I will tell you nothing."