On a morning bathed in the breath of the sea, the cries of seagulls tumbled through the humid air as they circled above the port, like the daily hymn of life for the city of Liverpool. Edgar opened his eyes to the sound, stretched slightly, and headed towards the small balcony in his room. He pushed open the window glass, and the smell of the sea rushed at him with force—the scent of salt, of fresh fish, a mix of maritime musk and wet grass. He took a deep breath and said to himself with a sleepy smile:
"There are the waves... always waking me to the morning."
He went downstairs, where his father "Klein" and mother "Emily" were sitting at the table. It seemed the shadows of yesterday had completely faded, as if the family had decided to start their day anew, without shouting or reminders of the past. Edgar sat at the table, and as soon as he reached for a piece of bread, he felt a light kick from under the table. He glanced at his father, finding him smiling slyly. Edgar returned the kick in secret, making Emily gasp laughingly, her tone carrying the family warmth they had missed:
"Enough, you two mischief-makers... The food is getting cold!"
They all laughed, a laughter like a breeze wiping away the dust of worry.
After breakfast, Klein stood up, adjusting his sea cap, saying:
"The fish don't wait for sailors."
He grabbed his bait box and made to leave. But Edgar, his face a mix of enthusiasm and stubbornness, said:
"I want to go with you, Dad! I want to see myself standing at the front of the ship, shouting 'Come on, you pirates!', and learn how to fish from you!"
Klein stopped, looked at him seriously:
"The sea isn't a toy, Edgar. It's a treacherous friend; it smiles at you then swallows you without warning."
But Edgar insisted, his voice trembling with a child's plea:
"I promise, I won't bother you. Just this once, I want to be with you!"
Emily intervened quickly, her tone firm:
"No, Edgar! You will stay here. The sea is no place for children!"
Edgar shot them a sharp look, ran to his room, and slammed the door so hard the walls shook. Klein said worriedly as he prepared to leave:
"I'll talk to him later. He's just angry."
But Edgar wasn't just angry… he was determined.
He slipped quietly through the balcony,clinging to the edges of the house until he reached the ground. He whispered, dusting off his clothes:
"Whooosh... I did it!"
However, he wasn't alone in the side alley. Three men with harsh features stood there, talking in low voices as if weaving a dark secret. One of them turned and found Edgar staring at them. The man said in a hoarse voice:
"Were you eavesdropping, boy?"
Edgar flinched, stepping back:
"N—No, I didn't hear anything!"
But the man advanced towards him with heavy steps.
Edgar's breath quickened,then he took off running with all his might, dashing through the alleys, the sound of their heavy footsteps echoing in his ears. He turned left, then right, until he spotted his father's ship preparing to set sail. He rushed towards it as if all salvation was there, jumped aboard silently, and hid behind piles of wet, foul-smelling nets.
Time passed as the ship cut through the waves. Klein was busy unfurling the sails and untying ropes, noticing nothing. Edgar sat in his hiding spot, laughing quietly whenever his father passed close by without seeing him.
But when Klein approached the nets at the stern,he noticed a strange movement and shifted them slightly... only to be surprised by his young son.
He raised his eyebrows in amazement, then burst out laughing:
"Hahaha, you're not an easy one, Edgar!"
Edgar laughed in turn and said sheepishly:
"I just wanted to be with you, Dad."
"Well then, but you must learn to listen before you become a sailor like me!"
The hours of fishing began, with Klein teaching him how to distribute the bait, how to cast the nets without tangling them. Edgar shouted with childish excitement:
"Look, Dad! I did it!"
Klein would raise his fist high and reply with a proud smile:
"Well done, my boy… That's how men are made!"
It was a rare moment—Edgar trying to prove himself as usual, and his father playing along—a moment of sincere warmth amidst the relentless waves.
But it didn't last.
A voice came from the stern, hoarse and rough, saying mockingly:
"Seems we interrupted a beautiful father-son moment, didn't we, Klein?"
Klein turned immediately to find five men on the ship, carrying gleaming cleavers, the smell of danger emanating from them. Little Edgar grabbed the edge of his father's coat, trembling, while the father shot a sharp look at the intruders:
"What do you want?"
One of them answered with a yellowed smile:
"We want your fishing secret, 'Octopus of the Seas'… Tell us how you attract so many fish, and we'll leave peacefully."
A moment of silence prevailed, then Klein raised his head and said in a heavy tone:
"You want the secret?"
He reached for a small axe beside him, gripping it so tightly his knuckles turned white, then said:
"The secret is the resolve of a man who gave everything to the sea, and the sea gave him everything in return!"
And the fight erupted.
The sound of metal clashing against wood,screams rising with the sea spray, the smell of blood mingling with the smell of fish.
Klein struck the first one in the chest,sending him reeling back in pain, then swung the axe at another's arm, severing it with a single blow that made his scream cut through the waves:
"Aaaaah!!"
The body fell into the sea, consumed by the waves, as the other three attacked together.
Klein fought them like a cornered wolf,moving between sides, using every corner of the ship as a weapon.
A strike...a dodge... a leap...
One by one,they fell to the deck, the sea around them boiling as if witnessing his heroism.
And as he caught his breath, he heard a sharp cry behind him—Edgar's cry.
He turned,standing stunned...
Little Edgar was standing,covered in blood, the cleaver in his hand trembling. Before him lay the motionless corpse of the fifth man.
Klein's features froze; he didn't know what to say.
Edgar looked at him with wide eyes,tears mixing with sea spray on his cheeks, his voice broken:
"He... he tried to hurt me, Dad..."
Klein didn't reply.
He approached him slowly,took the cleaver from his hand, then hugged him tightly, almost suffocating him in his arms.
"It's over, my son... It's over..."
But the sea wasn't silent at that moment,
as if the waves were whispering something else...
Guilt doesn't sink... it floats.