Part One
Honestly, I think this story is a masterpiece, so please enjoy!
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Ford was doing research in the study of the Stan O’ War II, when he realizes that the boat was quiet. Too quiet. Ford sat up, put down his plans and pencil, and headed to their shared room.
“Stanley?”
No answer.
He looks around, then notices a note on the bottom bunk of their bed.
He sat down on Stan’s bed, surprised, because Stan almost never did things like this. He preferred to not leave notes because it made him feel “babyish” that he couldn't say it to whoever's face. Ford notices droplets on the paper, as if he was sniffling and crying. It almost makes it feel like Ford caused this…
No, you didn’t. You do good things, you don’t make Stan upset.
You are fine. This is fine.
Ford focuses his gaze down to read the note.
“Dear Sixer, I’m sorry I can’t say this to your face but… Last night I had a nightmare…”
A wave of guilt swept over Ford.
That day, they had gotten into an argument. Stan wanted to buy some things for Ford, and they argued in the store. Ford and Stan were kicked out of the store, and Stan apologized a bunch, but Ford was still mad.
”In the nightmare, I screwed a bunch of stuff up, and… you said you never wanted to talk to me again… and told me to stay out of your life…”
No… Nononono… Stanley I’m sorry…
“I’m not on the boat anywhere. You can try and find me, and… I’d enjoy your company… Better than talkin’ to the seagulls..”
The day before, Stan and Ford decided to go to Glass Shard, New Jersey, to revisit their favorite places in the world.
Then Ford knew where Stan was.
He ran off the ship, note gripped in his six-fingered hand.
I’m coming, Stanley…