Betrayal is a fine art

Dizzy, Jeff staggered across the deck, looking at Harold hopelessly.

"How much longer?

Harold shrugged. 'That depends on how strong the wind is, and in what direction.'

Jeff ran to the side of the ship for the umpteenth time that trip and threw up. A moment later, he walked back to Harold. He rubbed his sleeve over his mouth.

'You'd say there's nothing left in there,' he said. 'Everything must be out by now, right?'

He said it in a tone that made one think he was joking, but Harold knew the opposite was true. The whole trip Jeff had been seasick, and even though they had been on the road for less than two days he had already thrown up so many times that Harold had lost count.

'Can't you tell how long it is approximately? You've made this damn trip before,' Jeff asked, trying his best not to crash against the deck.

Harold shrugged. 'The sea does what it wants.'

In truth, he could say pretty accurately that it would be about another half day, but he found it funnier to just not say that. A vulnerable Jeff he wouldn't be seeing again anytime soon.

'Shouldn't you eat something maybe?

Jeff fell to the floor, then rolled up against the ship's wall. 'I'm not hungry.'

Harold laughed.

By now it was evening. The sky was blacker than the black you see when you close your eyes. The only light came from the candle Harold had lit a few hours before, and which stood beside him. Besides light, the thing also bestowed warmth upon him; it was cold. He was lost in thought looking at the dark blue water at him, when he suddenly realized that the water was no longer infinite, for the first time that trip. A huge lighthouse stuck out above the water, it was so big by now that he wondered how he hadn't seen it before. Harold smiled: he recognized this tower.

'Jeff! We're here! We've reached Amsterdam!'

Jeff sleepily opened his eyes. He had slept badly and saw that in his sleep he had rolled to the other side of the boat. 'What?" he asked, clearly not quite awake yet.

"Look at that! Harold helped Jeff up, now allowing him to look at the tower himself. He saw that Jeff got a glint in his eye as if the fire from the lighthouse had now lit him up too. Jeff looked at Harold, his face taking on a smile so big that for a moment Harold was afraid the corners of his mouth would break. 'We're finally here,' was what he said.

A moment later, they went ashore. The only other person in the harbor was the harbormaster who sat sleepily smoking a cigarette on the dock.

'I deliberately tried to have us arrive in the night, that way we attract as little attention as possible,' Harold explained.

Jeff frowned. 'So you knew how long it would be before we arrived.

Harold chuckled. 'Technically, yes.'

Jeff shook his head, but he didn't elaborate. Harold grabbed a rope, which he tied to the boat at one end and to the dock at the other.

'We're not going back, are we?" suddenly Jeff realized aloud.

'No, probably not, if all goes well not. I expect this little barge will be there for a few months before people realize it doesn't belong to anyone anymore, and then I'm sure there'll be some kids who can use it incredibly well.

Jeff nodded. 'Though I wouldn't know why you would volunteer to sail.' Harold started to laugh, but he stopped as soon as he saw the harbor master looking their way.

'Do we have to pay him money, tolls or something?" asked Jeff thoughtfully.

'Actually, we do,' Harold replied. He took a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and put it in his mouth. 'Come along,' he said to Jeff.

The two of them walked toward the lone man. They hadn't noticed from afar, but the harbormaster was the size of a midget. Jeff, who was quite tall, was three heads taller than him. Jeff remained standing while Harold walked forward. The gray cobblestones, illuminated by the lamppost two feet away, clattered under his feet.

'I'd like to put my boat down here,' Harold began, after a rather long silence.

'And what will you give me for it?' asked the harbormaster.

'From me, you can have the boat,' Harold replied.

The harbormaster raised one of his eyebrows thoughtfully. 'Aren't you going back to where you came from then?'

'No,' Harold replied. 'We're from London, and we don't intend to go back, no.'

'London?' the male's pupils seemed to dilate for a moment, but he soon pulled his face back into the fold. 'Okay, then. I'll keep the boat, you don't have to pay anything.'

Harold nodded. 'Thank you, dear man.'

Then they walked to the park which was centrally located in the city. On the ground, they had fallen asleep.

The next morning, Harold was up early. His thoughts were spinning over time.

'Jeff, wake up.'

'Harold, damn it, I've barely slept the last few nights. What time is it?'

'Seven or eight o'clock, I guess. Not so ridiculously early, right?'

Jeff groaned and wanted to lie down again, but Harold pushed him off the couch.

'The train leaves at eight, we might already be late, so come.'

Jeff sighed but finally went with him.

They went down a lot of different streets, and Jeff wondered how on earth his friend knew where to go. But then he realized it was Harold, of course, he knew where to go.

'In here, and we'll be there,' Harold said. He turned and then fell to the ground. Jeff frowned. A moment later, the place was suddenly choked with police.

'On the ground!" someone shouted in forced English. How did they know they were speaking English? Why were they being picked up in the first place?

Jeff was still standing in the alley; the policemen had not yet realized he was there, too. Harold was still conscious, but the blow had been too hard, so he could no longer resist. He seemed to think desperately for a moment, then suddenly his mouth opened. 'Run! Don't save me anymore, only save yourself. Run!" he cried, the spit flying out of his mouth.

Jeff gulped for a moment, but thanks to Harold, the police had noticed him now anyway. He didn't know exactly where to go, but he just started running blindly. After about fifty yards, he suddenly saw a train looming, which he probably wouldn't have seen if he had just walked past it. A woman in a neat suit was about to close the door.

'Wait!" cried Jeff, in agony. 'Wait!

The woman saw Jeff, and despite finding it curious, he left the door open for a moment. Jeff jumped into the train. The woman pulled the door closed behind him. Panting, he turned around. He just saw them carrying Harold away. Suddenly he saw the harbor master standing between the policemen. Then the penny dropped: the man had recognized them and turned them in. Jeff felt a tear in the corner of his eye. A moment later he fell back crying.