Subject: [FFML] Re: [fanfic][Kiki's Delivery Service] Great Waters
From: Troy Thomas
Date: 7/28/2001, 8:20 PM
To: Allyn Yonge , ffml@anifics.com

Hi,
I'll just be making a few comments here and there. DOn't mind too much.

Troy

     Kiki's Delivery Service [Majo-no Takkyuubin]
Copyright:

Original Story: "Majo-no Takkyuubin" by Eiko Kadono,
published by Fukuinkan Shoten Publishers.

Animated Movie: "Kiki's Delivery Service" by Hayao
Miyazaki, Studio Ghibli; Disney, Image Entertainment.

No copyright infringement intended.

******************************************************


           Great Waters


Prologue

     Captain James McGrath balanced easily on the rolling
deck, knurled hands firm on the wheel, as the "Niagra"
'hauled in'  twenty leagues of longline.

     A sudden _crack_, like a pistol shot, brought his head
around in time to see a number-ten hook whiplash off a parted
line, slamming up through Sven Gunnerson's chin, erupting
through his left eye.

Gross! I can't help but see that image in my mind.

But more than that, you're absolutely serious about 'hooking' readers, aren't you?

     Two men leapt to hold the screaming man down,
trying to staunch the flow of blood while a third ran for the
fo'c'sle.

     "Busch!"

     The burly sailor halted at the captain's call.

     "Grab the signal lamp and send someone to the
masthead." Niagra was too small to carry a radio, but
someone else in the vast fishing fleet might be close enough to
read a heliofore message .

     Busch nodded and dashed inside.

     "And finish hauling in!" McGrath ordered, as
Gunnerson's screams subsided to  low moans.  The nearest
doctor was at least a week's sailing. In the meantime it didn't
matter if it were God, the Devil or the Captain himself on the
end of that hook; they had fish to haul.

I like this. I'm given an idea of what life is like, when living by how the sea demands. Of course, I can never truly understand the life, unless I myself live it. But thanks Allyn, this is a fine glimpse into another life.

******************************************************

     Kiki stood, just at the surf line and watched the swells
roll lazily ashore, trying to dismiss the funny leaden feeling in
her stomach.

     "I'm not sure I can do this," she admitted reluctantly.
"I've never flown that far before . . ."

     "Sure you have," Tombo rebutted, eyes sparkling
behind round glasses that dominated his face.  "You flew that
load of lobsters to the governors mansion, and that's over
twelve hundred miles.  This is less than seven hundred." He
knelt down on the sand and began sketching a diagram. "And
you don't have to fly round trip----" He tugged her down
beside him and her fingers itched to smooth his tousled hair
and she resolutely shoved them in her pockets. When had his
shoulders gotten so broad? She tore her eyes away and tried to
concentrate on his diagrams, finding herself  fascinated instead
by his hands. They were so strong and clever----

You've  put  two  spaces  'teen  'herself'  and  'fascinated'  .

     "Kiki? Are you alright?" Tombo touched her arm in
concern.

     The young witch tried to ignore the funny fluttery
feeling in her tummy. She'd been getting a lot of those lately.
Maybe she was coming down with something.

     "Y . . .yes. I'm fine." She tried to distract herself by
focusing on the little gold medallion pressed into the foot of
her broom. The mayor had presented it to her---- a flying witch
catching a falling boy, a broken zeppelin in the
 background . . .

Hmm...this has inspired, triggered a thought...

A broken zeppelin, caught between time and lives, hung far above a city street with a young man dangling, strugling to keep his life by hanging on a rope, which had once held the zepplin down to the ground.

Perhaps an observor could comment on how the boy clung to his dreams, but was slipping away, second by second, inching closer to the rope's end, and then falling to the ground far below.

     " . . .it's too choppy to land a flying boat. So the coast
guard asked the liner 'Kronprinzessen Cecilie' to divert to
here," he made a mark in the sand. "and the 'Niagra' is
coming this way," he made another mark. "So you'll only
have to fly to the Niagra, them carry him about . . ." he
thought for a moment, "a hundred miles, Captain Brunel?" He
looked questioningly at a figure standing silently to one side.

     What made it really special, was that Tombo had made
it himself . . .she found herself thinking about his hands again
and jerked guiltily, hoping no one noticed her blush.

     "About that, yes," replied the man in a blue and gold
coast guard uniform.

     "But . . .what good does that do him?" Kiki tried not to
think about all those miles of empty ocean. "It's still going to
take days to get him to shore."

      "The 'Cecilie' has a doctor on board" Captain Brunel
said, "and she's much faster than a fishing schooner Not to
mention that it will  be much less traumatic than trying to
make a transfer by boat, on the open sea."

schooner. Not
or
schooner, not

     "But that's not the _best_ part," Tombo interrupted,
his body fairly quivering with excitement. "Once you get him
to the 'Cecilie', we can fly him off with the gyrocopter!"

     "What's a jyry . . uhhh . . .gery . . .ummm . . .what is
it?"

     "It's great!" Tombo enthused, "you can take-off
almost straight up, and fly backward and sideways"  He
grinned at Kiki, "and land on the deck of an ocean liner. We
can fly both of you back home!"

     He was so enthusiastic, Kiki thought, watching his
animated gestures. That was one of the things she lo----liked
. . .one of the things she liked about him.

     "I've never flown so far over the water . . .not out of
sight of land before. My mother could probably look at a
picture of the boat, or touch something that belonged to one of
the crew and her magic would lead her right to them." She
looked down at her toes. "I'm not that strong." she confessed,
a little ashamed. Thinking about it, another lump joined the
first in her stomach. Then they got together and had a bunch of
baby lumps.

     "Modern science to the rescue," Tombo produced a
heavy grey-box, about the size of a loaf of pumpernickel bread
and proceeded to fix it to the front of her broom.

     "All you've got to do is follow the way the needle
points . . ." he tried to explain about radio waves and triangles,
but she got distracted by a the way his hair curled up around
his collar and forgot all about the family of lumps in her
tummy.



******************************************************

     High above the pewter coloured sea Kiki road a tail-
wind toward the Niagra. A lone skua passed her as it headed
shoreward, rasping 'hah-hah-hah' at the empty water and it
left her with a funny empty feeling.  Sitting in her little room
above Mrs. Osono's bakery watching the waves roll in was
very different from flying above miles and miles of . . .miles
and miles.

rode

      She felt brief chill and looked up to see a dark cloud
scudding across the face of the sun.  Switching on her little
radio, she crossed her ankles beneath the broomstick and
leaned back, turning her face to the sun as the jaunty tune
blared across the sullen ocean.

     "I'm boarding the train alone, leaving to meet my
       boyfriends mother . . ."

     A sudden gust of air smacked her in the face and she
unconsciously corrected her course, smiling a bit at the
memory of a time when a much smaller gust had sent her
crashing into a grove of trees, which had gotten chased by a
flock of crows.

One powerful sentence...I can almost imagine the crows chasing those groves of trees right now...

:p

     " . . .my boyfriend should have noticed the message in
rouge in the bathroom . . ."

     Another gust and she moved forward, adjusting her
trim and checking the squat grey box tied to the front. Maybe
in a few years she could just look at a picture and instantly
find a person or thing. For now she would trust in Tombo's
gadgets. And Tombo.

     " . . .I wonder if he's asking questions of all his friends.
       asking them where have I gone?"

******************************************************

     Kiki wriggled, trying to find a more comfortable
position and stretched her arms with a satisfying crack. She
was a little stiff and she was starting to get tired, but so far it
had been and uneventful if boring trip. She was starting to get
a little cold. Rolling her head to stretch a kink she happened to
look behind her. A little whimper escaped her lips and her
bones turned to water as she saw the sky black with clouds,
like the maw of some gigantic beast, lit with flashes of
lightning.

What else had it been? Or was the sentence supposed to, '...it had been an unevenful if boring trip.'?

It would seem a terrible place to be. I bet she's wishing it was still boring and unevenful.

     Leaning forward she put all her energy into flight,
trying to outrun the beast before it devoured her.

Incredibly powerful imagery.


******************************************************

     Cold rain had turned to sleet as the black clouds closed
around her like the walls of a tomb. Needles of ice slashed at
her exposed skin and howling winds yanked her up a thousand
feet, then smashed her down again.

      A bolt of lightning exploded from the clouds, blasting
a foot of broom, and Tombo's machine, into nothingness.
Blind and deaf, she screamed in terror as she tumbled through
the blackness, unable to tell which way was up. Another bolt
illuminated a nightmare sea, scant yards before her death dive
impacted the waves.


******************************************************

     Shielding her face from the driving sleet with a fold of
her dress Kiki fumbled in her bag for another magnesium
flare. Blind luck had saved her and she'd skipped along the
surface, like a stone, until she'd been able to stagger back into
the air, terrified beyond all hope---- but alive.

     She'd tried to climb above the storm----and a great fist
of hot lightening charged air had slammed her from the sky. .
Roaring up behind her the storm was growing in intensity and
the only way out was ahead. Toward the fishing fleet.
Captain Brunel had given her a half-dozen flares. She just
hoped there was someone out there to see them.

******************************************************

     Tombo was wearing a hole in the carpet as he paced,
waiting for the next weather report to come over the teletype.
A gust of wind rattled the windows and a spray of rain scooted
under the door frame. He moved to the big window that faced
the ocean and stared into the towering thunder heads, willing a
small witch-girl to appear out of the clouds on her way home.

******************************************************



     She had come so close to missing the fishing boat, tiny
in the immensity of the storm.  She'd dropped her last flare
and their answering signal-rocket had been almost invisible
against the swirl of snow, storm and lightning.

     Frantic to get out of the sky that had turned so deadly,
she fell from the sky toward salvation . . .and almost impaled
herself on the mast. Kicking away from the plunging vessel
she tumbled in gust of wind, then wrenched her broom around
in a desperate sprint to catch the speeding ship.  Trying to
settle on the rolling, plunging vessel was like trying to thread a
needle blindfolded while riding in the back of a cement mixer.

     She was exhausted, the freezing spray dragging her
down until she felt like she was mired in glue . . .all she
wanted to do was sleep.

     A wave-top slapped her with the force of an icy fist,
shocking her awake.  With her last burst of strength she lunged
for the plunging deck, and the  rising deck slammed her like a
freight elevator. Her broom went flying from her hand while
she skidded helplessly along the icy deck; to shoot through the
scupper like a seed from a grape. A bolt of lightning
illuminated black, white-capped waves and the frigid water
closed over her like a burial shroud.

     Something punched her in the side and she shot to the
surface like a cork. Or a gaffed fish.

     "E'ah . . .tha's got a reit strange catch, J'nathan."

     Kiki dangled limply on the end of the steel hook that
tangled her black dress. As her exhausted body surrendered to
darkness she thought she heard a voice, strangely gentle for all
that is sounded like a bucket of gravel.

     "E' is a stout un, for all is nowt but a lass."

I am reminded of the storm scene from David Copperfield as I read these last few scenes. And due to the computer wizardry of Hollywood with the movie 'The Perfect Storm', I can almost see the waves, larger than any building, which upon the ship is staying afloat.

******************************************************



     #SOS . . .SOS . . Kronprinzessen Cecilie
. . .engine flooded . . . drifting helpless . . . SOS . . .SOS#

     The sturdy brick building shuddered as storm surge
flooded across the floor of the Coast Guard center.

     # . . . flooded . . .down by the stern, barque Virginia
. . .SOS . . .SOS . . .#

     White faced, Tombo listened as the airwaves crackled
with messages of disaster.

     #boats smashed . . .flooding . . .for gods sake help us#

     As fast as they came, messages were sent on by
courier; all the lines were down.

     #SOS . . .SOS . . .hatch caved in . . .SOS . . .cable
parted . . .drifting . . .SOS  . . .steering jammed . . .SOS . . .
. . .sinking . . .SOS . . .SOS . . .#

******************************************************

     "Ohhh," Kiki squeezed her eyes shut and braced
herself as another surge thrust her against the rail of the bunk.
"what happened?"

     "Tha' thought ta go swimming.".

     "I remember . . .a boat . . .I hit----my broom!" She
jerked up, eyes darting around the small cabin. "where's
 my----"

     "In ta' corner, lass. All right an' tight."

     Kiki looked into the gloom, barely lit by a swaying
lantern to see her broom and bag, neatly stored in a little
cubby. She turned toward the sound of the voice."Thank
you-----oh!" she said in a very small voice.

     "Is a bad business" Sven Gunnerson chuckled weakly,
" tha' I'm ta' biggest catch o' th' trip."

Eww, he's no left eye, and he's making jokes about it...good jokes, at least.

     Kiki swallowed hard, them made straight for her bag,
or as straight as the rolling deck would allow; caroming off the
walls like a billiard ball.

     "This will help." She gently dripped the contents of a
green bottle onto the raw puffy skin surrounding the hook
protruding from the remnants of Sven's left eye.

I'd make a morbid joke right around here, about him being the biggest catch of the day, but you already beat me to it...

     "Thank'ee lass," A cool numbness replaced the grating
ache that had whipsawed him for the past days. "tha's
marvelous good."

     "It will help with infection, too," she said as steadily as
possible, ashamed that she'd been afraid to make this trip.

      "This will restore your blood, and help you to sleep."
She pressed a sponge soaked with medicine to his lips,
waiting  a few moments until his eyes fluttered shut. Her
soaking dress had been replaced with a man's shirt that hung
below her knees. Looking around she found and quickly put
on a yellow slicker and a well worn pair of seaman's boots,
many sized too large, before lunging up on deck to find the
captain.

******************************************************

     "Tombo! Come on. We've got to get out of here."
Captain Brunel commanded, pulling the young boy into the
lee of a sheltering out-building.

     "NO!" Tombo broke away from his friend and
struggled through the knee deep storm surge, back toward the
rapidly flooding radio building. "Kiki's still out there. We've
got to keep the transmitter going."

     "Tombo, don't be stupid----" The stark look on
Tombo's face made him pause, then he went on more gently.
"you can't do her any good by staying here."

     "She didn't want to go," Tombo ignored the hold on
his arm, staring blindly into the distance. A house-sized wave
hit the distant breakwater and exploded in a giant jet of white
foam. Moments later a dull boom rumbled across the quey
followed by a subterranean trembling. "I talked her into it. She
trusted me . . . now she's out there----"

     "Come on boy," Brunel tugged the struggling boy with
him as the wind began to rise again. "the Admiralty Point
transmitter is still operating. We'll go there."

     Another wave, larger than the last smashed into the
breakwater and Tombo moaned, as if he'd been struck.


******************************************************


     "What's that!" Kiki screamed over the storm, pointing
at a trail of sparks raising off the ocean.

     "Ship. In trouble."

     McGrath altered  course. Running close hauled,
Niagra plunged through the roaring sea like a drunken grey-
hound on the downslope of hell.  All too soon they came on the
terrible site of a giant liner, going down by the stern.

     "My God, it's the 'Princess'!---- look there!" he
pointed through the storm. Illuminated by flashes of light, six
small boats could be seen sheltering to lee of the ship.
"They've emptied the bunkers of fuel, to hold down the sea."

     Between one moment and the next the big ship
vanished.  Bereft of her sheltering bulk the tiny life-boats were
at the mercy of the shrieking wind, which pounded and
scattered them.

     "We've got to help them!"

     "We can't," McGrath's hands tightened on the wheel.
"We can't pass a line in these seas."

     The life-boats seemed small and futile in the rise and
fall of the big seas. The shrieking howling storm was terrifying
enough in the relative shelter of Niagra's wheelhouse.
Huddled in the bottom of an open-boat as mountains of water
roared out of the blackness to smash you under----

     "Get me a rope!" Kiki was already throwing off her
slicker and boots. She could fly better without them.


******************************************************

     "PULL!" Bo'son Swain screamed, "FOR CHRIST'S
SAKE ----PULL!" The men, and three women, at he oars were
giving their best. It just wasn't going to be enough. Nothing
human could fight this hellish storm-----

he oars...wait a minute, where'd that donkey come from all of a sudden?

     "GRAB THE ROPE!!!"

     A dark shape whizzed past his head and a coil of line
slapped him in the chest. Without thinking he grabbed it, and
was almost yanked from the boat, only being saved when three
of the passengers snatched him by the legs as he started going
over. An instant later the line had been made fast at the bow,
and the number-four boat was in tow, behind a fishing boat,
while Swain tried to figure out what the hell had just
happened.

******************************************************

     Twenty years as a hand-liner, pulling fifteen fathoms
of line hand-over-hand, eighteen hours a day had given Busch
shoulders like an ox. He could carry three-hundred pounds of
halibut under each arm and people got out of his way when he
walked down the street.

     Twisting his thick hands in the line he heaved, feeling
his shoulders crack with the effort to pull against the storm.
He couldn't see into to the blackness of the storm, but the red-
rag tied to the line told him how much was still played out.
The thick line twisted and vibrated like a live thing as the gale
tried to tear it from his hands. He set himself and heaved
again; not enough.

     What the storm took, it didn't like to give up. After
five hours of this even his enormous strength was nearly
finished. Then he thought of what _she_ was going through.
Wrapping the line around his arm he heaved one last time and
Kiki flew out of the black night to slam into his chest.

     Instantly he wrapped his arms around her naked body,
turning to shelter her from the worst of the storm and wave. In
the light of the emergency flares she looked ghastly; her lips
were blue and her body was one raw wound. It sickened him
to imagine what she must be feeling, soaked in brine, and he
could only hope the cold kept her too numb to feel anything.

     "H . . .how many . . .more?" she forced past a jaw
swollen almost shut after she'd slammed into a lifeboat. It
might be broken, but she'd lost all feeling hours ago.

     "One more," Busch reluctantly answered.  McGrath
had already altered course, beating to windward of the final
boat.

     Busch made his way forward, carrying the witch child.
Standing in the bow he carefully judged wind and wave, then
ignited a new flare and hung it beneath her broom. There  was
another reason Busch had been chosen.  Kiki didn't have the
strength to fly in the teeth of the gale . . .

     They were coming up fast, astern of the lifeboat.

     Busch heaved Kiki through the air, trailing a line from
a coil on the deck.

      . . .this was more like harpooning bluegill.

     Tumbling through the air, Kiki rode the wind like an
arrow, using her remaining strength to guide her broom to she
crossed the bow of the lifeboat. She saw a blur of startled faces
look up as she screamed a warning and dropped the line across
the gunnels of the boat. She didn't see what happened next as a
large wave slapped her from the sky. She would have died
there, if not for the second line secured to a harness around her
waist. She hung there for a moment, suspended between air
and water, then Busch began the slow, torturous process of
hauling her aboard as another crewman took the line to the
lifeboat aft.

...to guide her broom to she crossed

Are you trying to say, '...to guide her broom she'?




******************************************************



     The last boat was secured to the stern, when it roared
out of the deep.

     Leviathan.

     Stretching from horizon to horizon and reaching to the
sky. A million tons of black water.

     Kiki didn't have time to scream as the Niagra was
smashed end-over-end, the wheelhouse exploding as she was
driven under.

     The force of the blow punched the air from her lungs,
and tangled her in the rigging like a fly in a web. And like a
fly, she gave one spastic struggle  as the Niagra's flooded hull
dragged her down . . .


     *I'm dying?* she thought in wonder. *I can't die. I
never told Tombo . . .*

     Darkness closed around her mind, as if she were
falling down a  well . . .


     *Jiji . . .Jiji . . .I like this town.* Kiki swooped low
over the bay, playing with the sea-gulls. *What a beautiful
clock tower it has.*

     Open eyed and unseeing she hung in the bowsprit of
the sinking Niagra----the dark pressed in on the light . . .


     ** Mrs Onson poured her a cup of coffee, cheerfully
clumsy in her pregnancy. *If you'll help out around the shop,
I've got a room you can have* **

     **I'll work really hard.* It was so wonderful to have
found a friend and a place to stay. **


     Fifty feet down,  water  black and calm surrounded her
like a shroud . . .


     ** Kiki hurried down the street, followed by an
annoying boy on a bicycle.** *Hi, my name's Tombo. Can
you really fly on that broom?* **


          Her arteries constricted, trying to conserve oxygen that
just didn't exist . . .


     Frantically her body tried to keep the brain and heart
alive by shutting down less critical areas of the body---- only a
little light was left, pressed on all sides by the dark . . .

** *_I'm_ going to fly the first man-powered airplane!*
Tombo peddled the propeller driven bicycle furiously.  *Come
with me Kiki!" " Kiki tried to keep up, but it was so hard----
she was so tired---- **


      . . .until there wasn't anything left ---- the light was
squeezed to a pinpoint . . .

     *Faster . . .fly faster or I'll burn you!* Kiki slapped the
recalcitrant broom, focused on the boy dangling from the nose
of the crippled airship. He was losing his grip, swinging at the
end of the rope, but the stupid broom wouldn't stay steady----
*Grab my hand, Tombo!* He went one way, a gust of wind
sent her the other. *Tombo, grab my----*

     And her oxygen starved heart began to quiver like a
bag of worms . . .

     **He fell----**

     *TOMBO!*

          And the light exploded----

This is great.


******************************************************

     "KIKI!"

     Tombo picked his way along the beach, calling her
name.

     "KIKI!"

      The remnants of the fishing fleet, and any other ships
that had been caught in the maelstrom had been washing
ashore for two days. Smashed boats and broken bodies littered
the shore, as if the earth had opened up and vomited forth the
dead. Crabs and carrion birds were feasting on the remains and
the sickly-sweet stench of death carried for miles.

     "Kikkiiii!" Stopping beside the battered pasty white
flesh that had been a human being two days earlier, Tombo
turned it over. Male.

     "Kikiiii!"

     He should be helping with the injured. Helping to
rebuild the radio station, repair the flying boat.

     Another lump of flesh. Twice the size of his witch.

               "Kiiikiiii!"

     A motorcycle courier had reported bodies and
wreckage washing up a hundred miles up and down the coast.

     "Kikiiiii!"

     Moving around a lifeboat smashed to kindling his foot
caught on something half-buried in the sand. He rose to his
knees and froze as sunlight glinted off a small medallion in a
fragment of wood.  Numbly he took the fragment in his hands,
staring unseeing at the words engraved around the rim.

     A horn blasted and his head snapped around to see
steam puffing from the light house. Another puff, followed
moments later by the sound of the horn.

     A ship . . .a ship coming into harbor.  He lunged to his
feet and started sprinting down the beach, kicking up clods of
wet sand as he leaped and dodged the storm litter; heedless of
the danger.

     Lungs burning and heart thudding in his chest Tombo
sprinted past a retaining wall to see a clamoring mob crowding
the jetty.


     Shorn of all masts and rigging Niagra, staggered into
port.

     Tombo felt a sharp pain and looked to see blood
dripping from his clenched fist. He opened his hand to find he
still carried the medallion.

     Her decks were awash, and she pulled a string of
lifeboats like a weary mother leading her children home. And
riding the bowsprit . . .

     He read the words, engraved in gold:

     *I deliver packages . . .*

      . . .body crackling with the magic that held them safe,
her searching eyes met his across the  distance . . .


     "Kiki . . ."


******************************************************
     They that go down to sea in ships, that do
 business in great waters: These see the works of the Lord, and
his  wonders in the deep.

                                                 107th Psalm

******************************************************


Fathom: about six feet
League: 2.4-4.6 statute miles (2.4 for the story)


Bibliography:
The Perfect Storm, Sebastian Junger
The Wreck of the Memphis, Captain E.L. Beach
Men Ships and the Sea, National Geographic Society
Great Lakes Shipwrecks & Survivals, William Ratigan
I learned about Flying From That!, Editors of "FLYING
Magazine'

Down To The Sea In Ships
http://www.downtosea.com/

Notes:
Due to illness and writers block
I'm WAY behind on writing, C&C,
pre-reading and my e-mail. :(
I apologize to everyone waiting
for BF; Sukeban; Tyger, Tyger; etc.

I also apologize to everyone who
has written to me and not yet
received an answer.

I calculate at the present rate, in
another six months I'll be no more
than a year behind.

Thanks to the efforts of a fan:

http://www.geocities.com/ayongedarling/index.html

now hosting my stories. And some of her own,
soon we hope. ^_^

Great energy, Allyn, and a nice hook at the beginning too ^_- Even more, I can feel the power and terror that the storm emits.

I look forward to the next chapter.

Troy

***

Check out my webpage, where I archive, write, link, and do almost almost all the wonderful things fanfic writers enjoy. http://www.crosswinds.net/~silentnova/entrance.html

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