FOR THE COAST GUARD -SPECULATIVE FICTION

Fransisco believes his invention of a new boat will change his life. He has no idea that when he dedicates his maiden voyage to the Coast Guard, the Coast Guard will rescue his failed attempt.

“Why you might ask, am I willing to put my life on the line? Why would I risk death?” Francisco paused for effect. “The Coastguard deserves your support,” he yelled out. “And that is why I am performing this heroin journey, to raise money for our wonderful servicemen and women of the coastguard.” A slight breeze blew across the small gathering while pigeons searched for a morsel of discarded food. The heat from the sun penetrated Francisco’s skin.

Francisco pointed to the massive canvas, concealing his “boat of science”, as he stood in the middle of the town square and hollered to the people walking by, most on their way home from a long day at work. The majority ignored him and his thick brown canvas. The smell of Chinese food from the Asian buffet rallied Francisco’s stomach, but he ignored it. He had a mission to fulfill.

Francisco’s wife blocked people passing, shaking a money bowl in their faces. Her long mixture of dreadlocks and ratted hair clung to her face and neck. She wiped the sweat from her brow as she continued to annoy the people with her screechy call.

“Support the Coastguard,” the hippie woman sang out of tune. A few people tossed monies in the tin bowl to get rid of the crazy lady while the more annoyed commuters pushed her to the side. Pansy didn’t let the hostile ones deter her from her purpose. -a commitment to serving a brilliant husband, and he was brilliant. No one could invent things as he could. The obnoxious odor of fried sweet and sour reached Pansy, and she grimaced. Unlike Francisco, the smell of processed food didn’t tempt her. -only pure and organic for that love-child.

Pansy disregarded that most of Francisco’s inventions flopped, but look at Edison. How many times did he fail before he invented the lightbulb? Edison stood as the inspiration for Francisco and Pansy’s move to Fort Myers, Florida, so that they could be close to the Edison Museum, the grounds where Edison’s inspiration flowed.

“I believe in energies,” Pansy had told Francisco in their tiny New York Flat. “So many inventions came from the Edison Estate. There is powerful energy there. All you have to do is invent in a location within ten miles of his estate, and I promise those energies will flow through you.”

Pansy sat at the card table as she stroked paint onto a box. She often carried discarded treasures off the streets of New York and reinvented them. She swirled the brush in a cup of water and dried the bristles on her shirt.

Francisco looked at her with skepticism. He had never met such a free-flowing, superstitious being before. A woman’s screaming on the street below penetrated their thin walls while a siren zoomed by. Perhaps, Fort Myers wouldn’t have the noise of New York.

“You are not a failure, babes.” Pansy abandoned her art project, stood next to Francisco, and ran her fingers through Francisco’s disheveled hair. When had Francisco bathed last? His obsession with science sometimes caused him to forget his hygiene. Pansy didn’t mind since she preferred the natural man to one smelling of chemical soaps and cologne. “None of your experiments have worked out because of this bad New York Energy. It drains you of your ability to create.” She lit a bundle of twigs as she inhaled its smoke, then returned to rubbing Francisco’s hair, her bracelets rattling.

Francisco fanned the obnoxious smoke out of his face. “I don’t believe in your energy hocus-pocus.”

“You don’t have to, but it’s truth. Listen, you have failed at everything you have done.”

Francisco tightened his eyes at her blatant observation. He hadn’t failed. He just had yet to succeed. His world-changing project was there. He could feel it.

“That is the truth. But you are a genius, and it isn’t your fault. It is the bad energy here. So, you have to either accept the bad energy or accept that you suck as a scientist.”

Francisco scooted away from Pansy. How could she say he sucked as a scientist? He decided to place his bets on the nasty New York energy, so they moved to Florida.

“This warehouse will be perfect for you to invent in.” Pansy ran around the large open space.

“We can’t afford a house and a warehouse,” Francisco said, raising an eyebrow.

Pansy took the scarf from her hair and weaved it over Francisco’s face and neck. “Oh, the energy in here is tremendous. It’s okay. We will just live here. There is running water and a bathroom. What more do we need?” She ran to the corner where the chipped industrial sink sat between broken cupboards. “This will be our living space.”

On their first night in their new ‘home’, Pansy sat crossed-legged on the floor as Francisco occupied the folding chair next to the card table. Francisco watched Pansy as she rocked back in forth in some type of seance. “We make an odd couple. You believe in energy, auras, and strange vibrations, and you don’t take any heed to the laws of science. And yet, you are with me, a well-versed scientist who doesn’t believe in hippy-crap, only science.”

Pansy circled Francisco and draped a strip of material over his face in a sexy little dance. “Yet, we get along beautifully. I am your yin; you are my yang.”

“I have never met a woman out there as encouraging as you. What woman would support their husband and live in a warehouse?” He said, enjoying her dance.

“This is fun,” Pansy said, waving her hand around to present their space. “I have this corner, and that is enough for me.”

Pansy had laid down a grouping of rugs she had bartered for at the flea market. She eventually moved in a few statues and decorations. “These will draw essence into our home.”

She plopped down on the giant bean bag they used as their bed. “Come join me, my mourning dove,” she cooed.

“This bag kinks my neck,” Francisco complained and went to tinkle in the warehouse.

“Then you must learn a better sleeping position,” Pansy teased.

In their new warehouse, Francisco continued experimenting with one dead-end project after the other. The Edison energy didn’t seem to help him. Pansy tried to keep his morale up. “It’ll come,” she reassured. But would it?

At work, Pansy took a customer’s order and then grabbed a cup next to Mike as he steamed milk for his customer. “Let me get this straight,” Mike said over the noise of frothing milk. “You work a million odd jobs, so your husband can tinker on worthless projects all day?”

“I have faith that my sweet Francisco will make it big.” Pansy mixed chocolate syrup for her mocha order.

“So, you also teach yoga three times a week and hire yourself to perform freaky energy rituals.”

Pansy flipped a spoonful of whip cream on Mike’s face. “They aren’t freaky rituals. They are powerful and real. They are filled with truth.”

Mike wiped the whipped cream off and licked his finger. “How do I find a woman like you that will support me so I can stay home and run phony science experiments? I bet your husband sits around and watches the game all day while you work.”

“He doesn’t even like sports,” Pansy said. She set the frappe on the counter and called “Stephanie.” Pansy turned back to Mike. “I like working as a barista and yoga instructor. You seem full of dark energy today, Mike. Let me come to your house and cleanse your energy.”

“For free?”

“-as if. I’ll give you a discount, though.”

She said one evening as Pansy and Francisco cuddled on the bean bag. “I was thinking, none of your experiments are working here. It’s not your fault. You are a brilliant scientist. I can see your aura is just off. I can reset it for you. Tomorrow, we are going to go to the Edison Estate, and I am going to reset your energy.”

“I don’t have time for your silly games,” he said, turning his back to his wife.

“Francisco, this is non-negotiable. You will go tomorrow, and we will reset your energy.”

“Pansy, I am in the middle of running a series of sulfur experiments tomorrow. I can’t go do something that will waste my precious time.”

Pansy turned Francisco into her. “Then get a job. I am done supporting you,” she firmly said. She messaged her temples and closed her eyes.

Francisco rarely saw Pansy as uptight or serious. Mike’s words had made an impact on Pansy. Perhaps Francisco needed to produce actual experiments or start contributing to the family’s finances. She could hold out for a little longer as the only breadwinner, couldn’t she?

Against Francisco’s will, he wandered the Edison Estate hand-in-hand with his wife. He didn’t like touch in public, but Pansy did. She always had to have a physical connection of some type with him.

The magnificent grounds electrified Pansy’s soul as she took in the green ground coverings and the birds. The fragrant flowers infused Pansy with happiness. Francisco hardly noticed any of the beauty, but he did enjoy exploring the museum.

In the afternoon, Pansy and Francisco settled under the massive Banyan tree. Vitality consumed Pansy as she looked up at the sixty feet canopy. The splendid tree spread over an acre wide with hundreds of roots that anchored it to the earth. Pansy climbed through the tree, rubbing her hand along the rough bark. Massive, tube-like roots spread across the grounds. Could there be anything more mesmerizing than the tree? Pansy doubted it.

“Oh my, the energy here is off the chart,” she sang. She danced around Francisco and offered up rhythmic chants and prayers.

Francisco pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes tightly. Some parts of Pansy took lots of patience.

Pansy came home from work the following evening to find Francisco flying around the warehouse, full of an energy she had never felt from him before.

“I got it! I got it! I know what I will invent!”

His energy flowed into her. She clapped her hands and jumped up and down as she watched brilliance return to her lover.

“I am creating a water boat,” he sang, almost sounding like Pansy. His speech came out fast. “My boat will pull water in, and that will be its energy source. It will be clean. No electricity. No fossil fuel. Pure, hydraulic energy.”

Pansy spun in circles. “Wow, clean energy. I love it. And you told me you didn’t believe in energies,” she winked. “I told you the Edison Estate would restore you. And that Banyan tree. That tree siphoned all good out of the ground and air and directed it onto us.” She smiled, lifted her head, and closed her eyes as if she stood in the sun’s rays instead of a dim-lighted warehouse.

“My invention will be so masterful that the Coast Guard will buy a fleet of my boats. This will put my name on the history books.” He turned to Pansy and spun her around the warehouse.

“Oh, Francisco,” she shouted out. She loved his energy. Why couldn’t he act like this all of the time?

Francisco worked tirelessly on the boat for almost a year, taking it out on the ocean for several test runs until he felt satisfied that he could present his ship to the world. Pansy worked her plethora of jobs and added a dog walker to it. As Francisco’s creativity fueled him, Pansy wore out. She liked working hard, but she missed her free time. She longed to paint a piece of garbage. She missed flower arranging. And the worst, she couldn’t squeeze time into her busy work life for meditation. She needed reflection to survive, to stay grounded in reality.

“How did your meeting with the Coast Guard go?” Pansy asked as Francisco entered the warehouse. She already sensed from his aura that his proposal had flopped. She lay on the beanbag and rubbed her exhausted feet. She looked at her foot arch. Had she caused it to collapse? Francisco muttered under his breath. His skin looked ashen. She didn’t have the fortitude to deal with Francisco’s foul mood.

“They are shooting themselves in their own foot.” Francisco threw his blueprints across the floor. A bit of pity filled Pansy. After all, Francisco had worked hard on his boat. She agreed. The Coast Guard didn’t recognize genius. Francisco’s boat would solve all of the Coast Guard’s problems, wouldn’t it?

“I tell you what to do, love. You catch the Coast Guard’s attention. How about you get media coverage and announce to the world that you are going to take this boat from the bottom of North America to the top of North America? We will raise money for the Coast Guard in the name of your trip. And then, after the world watches the stellar of my husband, you will present the money to the Coast Guard. They will be forced to watch, and they will buy your boat.”

Francisco jumped up and down, wide-eyed and crazy-looking. “You are so smart!” He exclaimed. “How did I ever get so lucky to marry a woman like you?”

“I am one in a million. And we always thought you were the smart one.” She winked.

“I’ll do it in April,” Francisco announced to Pansy over dinner. He had spent several days studying the coastal weather patterns.

“So, you have three months to get your boat ready.” Pansy sunk her teeth into her homemade veggie burger. Juice dribbled down her chin. The savory flavor exploded in her mouth. If only they could eliminate animal slaughter and mandate a vegetarian lifestyle for everyone. Francisco hated the veggie burgers. In truth, he hated most of Pansy’s odd cooking, but he could live with that to have such an amenable wife.

“My boat is ready,” he barked.

“Well,” Pansy said, wiping catchup off his chin. “Then let’s use those three months to raise money for the trip. That will also give us three months to catch the attention of the world, so everyone will be crazy with anticipation and watch your journey.” She rubbed her hand up and down his arms, then kissed every one of his freckles.

“Once again, you are incredible,” Francisco said, admiring his eccentric wife.

“I think I am about done dragging this boat along the Florida Coast. How much money have we raised?” Pansy closed the door on the trailer and climbed into the van. Francisco joined her. The smell of cinnamon welcomed him in. When their odor had reached a level that they couldn’t stop smelling it, Pansy filled the van with cinnamon sticks.

“We raised $7,000 for the Coast Guard.”

“That should get their attention,” she said as she turned the key. The engine started, then sputtered. -nothing. She tried again. It sputtered, then stopped. On the third try, the engine weakly purred to life.

“I can’t wait until this project is done and you can fix the van.”

Francisco didn’t respond as he stared out the window. They missed the goal of launching the boat in April, but when June 6th came, the sunny weather welcomed them to the east side of Florida.

Francisco stood in front of his boat on Miami’s South Beach as the lone reporter did a twelve-second interview.

“That is disappointing that there isn’t worldwide coverage here,” Pansy said to herself. “This is a historical event.” She turned to the crowd of eight. They had drawn in larger multitudes than this when they begged for donations. She turned to the lady next to her. “This is a historical event.”

The lady stared without a change of expression. The intense sun burned Pansy’s fair skin. Sand pipers ran along the surf’s edge as the smell of salt drifted in the air.

“You would think after I had raised so much money for the Coast Guard that they would have had the decency to show up,” Francisco mumbled to Pansy as he adjusted his wetsuit.

“You have to stop that, babes. You are filling yourself with bad energy right before the biggest event of your life. If you focus on that bad energy, it will go into your whole trip, and you might fail. You do not want that.”

He scanned the beach. A few more bystanders had wandered over. How could he not feel disappointed at the lack of media coverage and excitement? Would it have hurt the Coast Guard to have shown up? After all, they had raised the money for them.

“I have a present for you, my love,” Pansy said as she opened Francisco’s hand and placed dried leaves in them. “These are from the Banyan Tree from the Edison Estate. They will give you Edison’s energy to make your trip successful.” He palmed the leaves and flashed a weak smile of thanks. “And don’t worry. I didn’t viciously rip them off the tree. In truth, they fell on my head, wanting to take this journey with you.“-as if Francisco cared.

Fully ready, Francisco stood before his craft and finished his speech, “…and, in the end, I will see you in Portland, Maine. And one more word goes to the Coast Guard, to whom I dedicate my trip to. All the money I raised will be yours to support the wonderful service men and women. I plan on seeing you at my finish in Maine.” Exactly who was he talking to?

Pansy clapped loudly, and a few people joined in.

Francisco removed the canvas from his beloved boat. The on-goers rapidly blinked their eyes. They couldn’t understand what they looked at. It was shaped like a giant cylinder, with wrap-around steel poles, like a cage. It was about as large as a Ford Pickup truck.

“I present to you the newest, greatest innovation in science,” Francisco said as he climbed in.

“Farewell, my fans. I will see you in Portland, Maine,” he grabbed the small door on top of the cylinder boat and pulled it down.

“Wait,” Pansy screamed in a voice that sounded like someone was torturing her. “You can’t leave without a kiss.” She climbed up the cage and got a kiss from her husband. A couple of people laughed while a few others gave a romantic sigh.

“I can feel the energies with you,” Pansy said. “Go change the world!”

Pansy jumped down and landed in the water. The salt stung an open cut on her toe. She ignored it as she went to stand next to the reporter and cameraman on the beach.

The engine hummed to life.

“That’s my scientist,” Pansy declared as she jumped up and down and clapped her hands.

Half of the crowd lost interest and wandered away.

“Let’s pack up,” the cameraman said to the reporter.

Sadness filled Pansy at the lack of interest the crowd had. “Wait, I need to cleanse myself of these horrible energies. I can’t sabotage Francisco’s trip.” Pansy closed her eyes and took a high-energy yoga pose. She hummed, allowing the powerful energy emanating from the ocean to consume her.

“Oh no!” Someone screamed.

Pansy opened her eyes and glanced at the lady who pointed to Francisco’s hydrogen boat. Fearful, Pansy spun and looked out into the ocean. Francisco had only made it about a thousand feet out.

Large waves captured the hydrogen boat and tossed it back and forth like a beach ball. Sometimes, the vessel would disappear under the waves and not emerge for twenty seconds. The boat had never gone under all of Francisco’s test runs. He hadn’t designed it like a submarine. He engineered it to sit on the water. Fransisco should have tested the boat farther out in the ocean. In all his tests, he had only skimmed the boat close to the beach. Ruthless waves kept the boat more underwater than on top.

The reporter and cameraman returned to what now presented as a newsworthy event. They laughed as the cameraman intently filmed Francisco’s tragedy.

“Call the Coast Guard,” someone cried out.

Pansy ran out into the water as if to save him. She didn’t get too far when she stepped back onto the beach. She tightened her knuckles as she paced back and forth. Her sweet lover would be carried away to his watery grave. Grant it, it would be far more spiritual to die in the ocean than, say, a car wreck, but Pansy wasn’t ready to return Francisco to mother earth.

It felt like twenty lifetimes of reincarnation passed before the Coast Guard arrived. Pansy did everything she could to send energy and spiritual help to Francisco. Had he already drowned in his cylinder coffin? She couldn’t allow herself to think about it.

***

That night, Francisco and Pansy watched the evening news. Pansy yearned to cuddle her husband, but he sat as an untouchable wall. The house smelled of greasy burgers, for Pansy had allowed Francisco to buy what he called ‘real food’, yet it sat at the table hardly touched. Francisco scooted away from Pansy, needing space as they watched the coverage of his disastrous boat journey.

" …and in the irony of it all, Francisco Verminham had raised seven thousand dollars to give to the Coast Guard, yet his failed journey had cost the Coast Guard fifteen thousand to rescue him.” The reporter mocked Francisco, shattering Francisco’s dream of making science history.

Francisco shut off the TV. He pinched the bridge of his nose and wandered to the card table, where he took a bite of the cold burger and forced it down with flat root beer.

Pansy evaluated Francisco as a scientist. She concluded he was not a scientist and needed to stop wasting time and get a job.

Francisco saw Pansy as a mindless girl, silly in her dependency on energy and lack of scientific conviction.

The next day, to rectify their debt for their rescue, the Verminhams followed the call of the universe and signed up to join as members of the United States Coast Guard.

Pansy sold her trinkets; Francisco cleared out his warehouse. The Verminhams became Coasties, no longer a wandering-hippie or a failing-scientists.

They allowed the fates to rewrite their life’s journey.