Sailing by the Stars

By Xlibris US

The human being, with an average lifespan of less than nine decades, is born onto a planet that is billions of years old. Yet humans spend this minuscule amount of time fighting, cheating and hating each other all in an attempt to own the earthly materials that have been, and will always be here.
Using a fictionalized setting, the author, Jean O. Tinechi, suggests that this human characteristic has persisted over the millennia due to a civilization built on a misguided education.
Johnny Maku is an intelligent teenage boy thrust into a luxury cruise ship to Alaska where he meets an equally intelligent and ravishingly beautiful teenage girl, Sandra Peters. Like a storm, his thoughts, events and feeling pummel this shy young man for the next eight days. It is not until the very end that he realizes he had just been on a journey through life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 13, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499028331

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

H UMANS CRAVE HAPPINESS. It is the ultimate objective of lives’ struggles. The tall and the short; men and women; black and white; the pious and the sinful; the rude and the well-mannered; rich and poor; the grouchy and the good-natured; the literate and illiterate; the primitive and the civilized; the good, the bad, and the ugly all go through life seeking happiness by means they judge fit. Over millennia of development, humans have slowly ingrained into themselves the belief that wealth and luxury constitute an essential path to this happiness. In this illusion of hedonism, it is easy to mistake material items, vacations, and the recreational activities we purchase with money for happiness. And the more money we lavish on such a belonging or activity, the happier we think we will be.

Ocean cruises in our time have emerged as one of such activities. Every year, millions of us, seeking happiness, cruise the oceans, seas, lakes, and rivers of our planet. These cruises are of course sold to us by corporations well schooled in the art of marketing. And in the complex and highly evolved world of marketing, the quality of a product or service is very often less important than the machinery available for its advertising. With the right catchphrases in advertising, human feces, for instance, can literally be packaged and sold for money. And millions will queue up to buy.

Thus, corporations dedicated to the highest quality of products and service to its customers and welfare of its staff oftentimes find themselves at a financial disadvantage. The Avesta Corporation was such a company. Dedicated to excellence in the Cruise Line industry, they had to work doubly hard to stay financially afloat while still maintaining a moral high ground. And of course, their workers were the best paid in the industry.

It was a nervous time for executives of the Avesta Corporation as they launched their newest ship yet. Even by twenty-first-century standards, the cruise ship Queen Artemisia was a technological marvel. Towering just over 280 feet above the water level, with a length of 1,500 feet and over 700 balconies, it looked like a magnificent floating city. From a distance, the white color and sky blue trimmings made it stand out. Its sheer size reduced even the largest ferries nearby to that of infant toys bobbing in a bathtube. And yet it seemed to grow bigger with every step one took toward it. Watching from the pier, the rainbow of balloons and banners decorating the lower decks were easily discernible.

The huge colorful canopies also decorated with balloons, and the band playing on Pier 17 all promoted an aura of a festival. Some were dancing on the pier. Others were simply sitting down, sipping a drink or eating snacks as they enjoyed the music. A few people were hauling their luggage toward the ship. From a barge, a few hundred feet away on the water arose a steady stream of fireworks.

Johnny Maku’s excursion group were among the first passengers to start boarding as soon the embarkation windows opened at noon. He was one of a dozen teenage students on a vacation cruise as a promotion for the cruise line. These were all honor students chosen from the state of California whose parents were willing to shell two thousand dollars each for the trip. And like Johnny, they were all going to their senior year in high school. Having arrived at their hotel in San Francisco the day before, they were able to squeeze in a tour of Alcatraz Island before their cruise. And since they were all legally minors, two members of the ship’s crew were assigned to them as tour guides.

To the left of the cavernous embarkation lounge was a row of check-in windows. The area was teeming with ship crews of various ranks, porters, security men and women, and cruise directors all impeccably dressed. As a by-product of modern-day terrorism, their luggage first had to be screened by a metal detector. His group was then directed to two ladies in window 9.

Johnny was the seventh in line to check in and was in no hurry. Since this was the first time he would spend a vacation out of the prying eyes of his parents, he looked forward to enjoying every minute of it. The digital camera hanging around his neck and his cellular phone were ready to record all the memories. He looked around and noticed that window 12 was dedicated to disabled passengers only and wondered why they would be so many of them. Of the dozen or so passengers waiting in line on window 12, four were on wheelchairs, and all of them had accompanying adults. Even then each one of them had a uniformed cruise ship personnel assisting. He then reasoned that maybe they were senior citizens or war veterans who preferred the early check-in to avoid the rush that was sure to come later.

The second student on his check-in line was a beautiful girl, the likeness of which he had never seen before. He had seen her briefly the day before during their trip to Alcatraz Island, but tried to avoid staring. Standing behind her in line gave him the opportunity to look closely. From behind, her figure was that of a meticulously crafted mannequin. Her jet-black shiny hair caressed her blouse halfway down her back. The blue jeans pants she had on were of course tailor-made for her and color-matched with her three-piece luggage. As Johnny was trying to take in more of the mental picture, the girl was called to the check-in counter. As she took the few steps to the counter, her pants could only allow a glimpse of her high-heeled shoes. Even her walk was graceful.

Within an hour, Johnny’s group completed all their registrations and documentations, checked-in their luggage, and obtained their room keys. They were all assigned to a row of rooms on the same wing of deck 14. Now with only his travelling documents, wallet, camera, and cellular phone, he felt freer. Armed with their maps, brochures, room keys, and with their name tags in place, the teenagers proceeded to tour various decks on the ship. They were like children in a candy store, trying every game, tasting every drink, and chasing each other up and down the stairs.

From her name tag, Johnny noted that the beautiful girl he saw in line was named Sandra. Their two tour guides, a man and a woman, were barely in their mid-twenties. Only their uniforms and name tags differentiated them from the teenagers.

There was no doubt the ship was fresh off the shipyard. Immaculately clean and with polished wooden floors and walls, it had the distinct smell of new furniture. The handrails were so polished that they acted as mirrors. The general dining areas were all open. Being teenagers, they all ate hot dogs and French fries from the fast food stand on deck 15. At the other end of deck 15 was a huge television screen, and between the screen and the hot dog stand was a medium-sized swimming pool. Playing on the screen was a welcoming message and a listing of the amenities on the ship deck by deck—restaurants, live theater, dancing club, video arcade, Internet cafe, casino, library, movie theater, spas, gym, saloon, chess room, table tennis lounge, gift shops, among others.

So when do people sleep on a cruise? asked one of the students.

Forget vacation, it’s a chore just visiting all these places, chimed in the other.

We renamed it the city that never sleeps, said Ahmed, the senior of the two guides.

And most of the amenities are open twenty-hours a day, he added.

You just have to draw up a schedule as to when you sleep and when you have fun, added Selena, the other guide.

Sandra chuckled and looked at Johnny. Somehow, the idea of drawing up a schedule and having fun did not quite match up well in her brain. In her mind, drawing up schedules seemed more appropriate for work or school. Seizing every opportunity to sneak a peek, Johnny looked at her and simply returned the smiled.

Okay, Ahmed started again.

Please make sure you have each other’s phone and room numbers. You all have our phone numbers, but in case you cannot reach us, just identify yourself to any of the crew members as one of the captain’s teenage guests, he concluded.

Johnny looked at his key pass again. That explains it, he thought. So the initials CTG at the bottom right hand corner of his key pass stood for captain’s teenage guest. He was flattered.

Those of you who want to rest can do so, but remember, a mandatory emergency drill will take place soon after we sail, added Selena.

As some of the teenagers took the stairs to their rooms, they noticed that they were now many more people on the ship. Some were logging along heavy suitcases, others had small children. Most of them were in a hurry. The closer the 4:00 p.m. departure time approached, the heavier the human traffic all rushing to be part of the maiden voyage of the Queen of the Oceans.

A few of the teenagers sat around the swimming pool on deck 15. Some were still drinking their leftover soda from the hot dog stand.

Where do you live? Johnny asked Sandra.

Orange County, she replied in a soft voice.

I live in LA, said Johnny.

Johnny remembered from the student list he saw during check-in that her full name was Sandra Peters. He could feel his heart pounding away in his chest, but deep inside, he was happy he could start a conversation with a girl. If my mom could see me now, he thought.

Are you enjoying the cruise so far? he asked as he made a half turn and looked at Sandra squarely on the face.

Johnny noted her pointed nose, thin lips, and blue eyes seated above her high cheek bones. Every organ on her face seemed designed to match.

So far, yes, she answered.

And how about you? Sandra asked, smiling.

So far, so good, answered Johnny.

Sandra had also noted Johnny’s name tag but still preferred a formal introduction.

My name is Sandra Peters, she said.

I am Johnny, Johnny Maku, replied Johnny.

Some of the remaining students started walking away from the pool area. Johnny and Sandra left together toward the staircase.

I have to call my parents, said Johnny.

I’ve already called mine, said Sandra.

I am sure my dad is monitoring developments on this cruise minute by minute, she added, laughing.

That’s because he loves you, said Johnny without giving it a thought.

I am sorry, he apologized.

That’s okay, said Sandra with a smile.

Johnny meant every single word he said to Sandra. It is not every day you see a ravishingly beautiful girl who is not only a straight A student but is also well-mannered and humble, he thought.

If he were Sandra’s dad, he would never let her out of his sight, at least not at this age. But he would never voice that thought out loud.

See you at dinner, he said instead.

You too, said Sandra.

As soon as he stepped inside his room, Johnny called his mother to report that he had boarded safely and that he got the single room he was promised.

I love you, Mom, he said as he ended his phone call.

I love you too, said the mother as they both hung up.

His room was impeccably clean. As soon as he stepped through the door, there was a small closet to the left and a toilet and shower to the right. Further in, was a single bed to the left and a small writing desk/dinner table to the right. A high-definition television screen was mounted on the wall opposite his bed, and sitting on the floor directly underneath the TV screen was a small refrigerator. The wall directly opposite the entrance door was made of glass with a small door leading to the balcony. Two layers of drapes were hanging in front of this wall ostensibly to keep away the sun’s rays. Except for two life vests, everything else in the room seemed strictly designed for one person.

Johnny picked up the remote control unit and switched on the television. There was no need for a digital video-disc player since his vacation package included access to movies appropriate for his age. The first channel on the television was playing the same welcoming message he had seen upstairs. He sat on his bed tired but exited. With his feet still on the floor, he laid back his head on the pillow. The last few days had been hectic. The preparations for the trip, the flight to San Francisco, their tour of Alcatraz Island the day before, and the brief stroll to the Fisherman’s wharf were taking their toll.

As he lay down, looking at some brochures, he heard the fireworks get louder and the sound of cheering crowds. He stood up, went out to the balcony, and discovered that the ship was slowly leaving the port. Some passengers in the upper decks were waving, cheering, and taking pictures. He took a few pictures with his camera as the ship slowly headed toward the Golden Gate Bridge and went back into his room. He figured he needed some rest.

He must have dozed off briefly, but what happened next sent his young heart racing. He was unsure whether to call it a dream, a vision, a prediction, or an epiphany but the mental picture he saw was vivid and the voice clear and authoritative.

This ship will sink at the end of this voyage, but before then you will have plentiful chances and the total freedom to enjoy the cruise as you wish. Depending on how you utilize your time, you may even be able to extend the duration of the cruise, The voice said.

He was breathing heavily as he woke up. What he saw in his mind’s eye was a blinding light with no discernible face. The voice he heard was the kind one hears not just through the ears but also telepathically. It was the type of voice that only seems to reiterate what we already know to be true.

His wristwatch indicated that no more than five minutes had elapsed since he dozed off. He picked up the brochure lying on his chest and resumed reading. Then it dawned on him. The flyer he was reading contained a paragraph suggesting that the Queen Artemisia was built so strong and sturdy that it was almost unsinkable. He recollected reading that the builders of a similar ocean liner about a century earlier called the Titanic expressed the same sentiment about their ship. Yet the Titanic sank in its maiden voyage. Our minds play tricks on us, he thought. The similarities in such arrogant pronouncements could easily have been worked into his dream, he surmised.

The buzz on Johnny’s cell phone signaled an incoming text message. It read, Dinner at 7, deck 15 and signed S. He assumed it was from Sandra and sent a return text that read:

Thanks, see you then and signed J in keeping with the first name initials Sandra had just introduced. The time was 4:30 p.m. so Johnny decided to rest a little longer before heading out of the room. There was so much to do.

He had barely relaxed for a few minutes when he heard short blasts of the ships horn. He counted seven blasts followed by one long blast. From his orientation, he remembered this to mean a general emergency alarm. He was still trying to figure out what to do next when he heard a loud knock on his door. He hurried out to the corridor only to see Ahmed knocking from door to door.

Time for the muster drill, Ahmed announced.

Take your life jackets from under your bed and hurry down to your muster station on deck 7, he finished.

The life vests were bright orange in color, each with a thin green strip around it. These strips were color-coded to match with the room key and made it easier for the ship’s crew to direct the passengers to their correct muster stations. Within a minute, all twelve of them were matching toward the stairs with Ahmed leading the way and Selena bringing up the rear. As they walked briskly on, the number of passengers kept increasing. Some already had their life vests on. The flashing strobe lights and the soft motherly voice from the loudspeakers on the ceiling reminding them that this drill was mandatory, briefly brought back the memory of Johnny’s earlier dream to him.

The muster drill lasted about an hour, and the teenagers came back to their rooms. Johnny was unable to go back to sleep. He idly flipped various television channels as he anxiously awaited his dinner appointment with Sandra.

CHAPTER 2

A FTER A NINE-MONTH sojourn in his mother’s womb, baby Johnny Maku was born at 7:32 p.m. on October 30, 1996, in a hospital in Bellflower, California. Beautiful, stark naked, and covered in goo, he weighed a mere eight pounds, eight ounces. There must have been a billion events among the world’s population on this day, but his parents cared for none of those. To them the single most important event was the birth of their child.

The sweet smell of roses, the sparkling labor room, and the soft music coming out of the loud speakers on the ceiling were all evidence that the hospital had gone to great lengths to ensure the best possible environment for welcoming newborns into the world.

His mother’s vital signs were strong and stable, according to the cardiac monitor mounted on the wall. The labor room is one of a few places where crying is received with joy. As soon as baby Johnny let out a loud yelp, the concerned and stressful look on his mother’s face was replaced by a warm and hearty smile.

With that cry, baby Johnny was formally introduced into that topsy-turvy, bizarre, and complex drama called life. It is an existence so distorted, odd, lopsided, and some say unfair, that one has no control over the baggage of genes one inherits, the geographic location one is born into, the actions of people one meets or is related to nor, the political and economic situations that govern the events on our home planet. From the moment of his birth for instance, baby Johnny had absolutely no control over the fact that he will one day die. Faced with a choice, he probably would have preferred to stay back in the warm, cozy, peaceful, and cushioned living space within his mother’s womb. Or he may have chosen not to be conceived at all. But these were decisions completely outside his control. The journey from the womb to the outside world was equally unavoidable. Nature does not deviate from its agenda.

The obstetrician smiled, took a deep breath, and heaved a sigh of relief.

Congratulations, he said through his face mask as he clipped the umbilical cord and motioned on Johnny’s father to cut it. This done, he handed the baby over to the nurse to be cleaned and wrapped in blanket. Even before picking up the baby, the nurse snapped a name tag on its tiny bloody ankle.

When Johnny’s sister was born ten years earlier, his dad’s cousin who was present at the birth took a good look at her, shook his dad’s hands, and loudly declared that he was going home to start the celebrations. The time then was 3:00 a.m., an odd time to start any form of celebration. However, since his dad’s cousin was not there at Johnny’s birth, all the celebrations had to be done in the hospital where the chief celebrant was.

As soon as Johnny’s dad hugged and kissed his mom, they both knew what the next item on the agenda was. Less than twenty yards away and behind the closed labor room door was Johnny’s maternal grandfather, pacing the corridor like an uneasy sentry, hands wringing, and literally with butterflies in his stomach. Words cannot fully describe the relief and elation he felt as soon as he was informed of the birth.

Now cleaned and wrapped up in blanket, the nurse laid the baby back quietly by his mother’s side. By then, baby Johnny had stopped crying and busied himself sucking his fingers. His dad took one more picture to add to the dozen or so he had already taken not counting the ultrasound ones done while he was in utero. Both mother and baby deserved some rest, after all that’s why the process is called labor.

In comparison, scientists tell us our universe came into being about 13.7 billion years ago. Since we cannot individually verify that, we just have to take their word for it. Between then and 1996, no one can say with certainty where Johnny was. Similarly, there is no scientific proof of exactly where we go after we die but we all