This is a totally random story brought about by my weird sense of humor and a very specific pirate. No rum, I promise. Features Serena and Wendy.
“It's broken,” announced Chip Morton, holding the small square box in his hand, his long fingers gently wrapped around the antique. Lee Crane glanced over his buddy's shoulder, watching the needle of the compass spin wildly. The red pointer finally slowed, but didn't come to rest, instead rocking slowly back and forth.
“Careful with that. I'm not sure how old it is,” Serena Harrison said, glancing up from her computer. She watched Lee gently take the old compass from Chip's hand, seemingly entranced by the needle she knew from experience was spinning like mad.
“You don't know how old it is?” Lee echoed, somewhat distracted. Serena knew Lee and her father had a fascination for Naval history. It was that fascination that prompted her to bring her compass collection to display in her office, hoping everyone would find them as intriguing as she did.
“No, that's the one piece I can't attach a history to. That one was give to me,” Serena said. From the a joining office, project coordinator and part time bodyguard Wendy Morton stepped, a clipboard in one hand, her PDA balanced on the board while her fingers danced over the tiny keypad. She stopped short when she realized there were two extra people in Serena's office. She grinned wickedly, seeing her chance for a quick jab.
“I thought I smelled testosterone. What brings you two up here?” she asked, watching Lee as he turned his body slowly in a tight circle, a familiar small black and white box in his hands. “You found her collection, I see. Where did you get that one again?”
Serena glanced up one more time. “Haiti, remember, that dig on Turtle Island?” the red head prompted.
“Oh, yeah, I remember that. Ile de la Tartue,” she said, giving the island name it's French pronunciation. “That crazy voodoo lady with the dreds. She was creepy,” Wendy replied, walking up to Lee and looking down at the compass in his hands.
“It was pointing out the window, and when you came in, it started spinning again. Now it's rocking between you and the window,” Lee said, lifting his eyes to look out the aforementioned window. Wendy mirrored his actions, and moved to stand in front of the big double windows, gazing outwards. From here, Serena's office had a view of the sea, not as nice as the view from Admiral Nelson's office, but lovely all the same. Looking like a toy, Seaview bobbed quietly in her dock, attended to like a regal queen on a throne. Wendy cast a glance back over her shoulder at the dark haired Commander.
“Nothing out here but the ocean and Seaview. You do know that thing's broken?” she asked. Lee just nodded his head. Chip reached over and carefully retrieved the aged piece. The needle spun a few times, then the red point slowed, swinging lazily from the same window it had pointed at for Lee, then swinging back to Serena. It lingered on the woman behind the desk for a long few seconds, then slid back to the window. Back and forth.
“Serena, you must be magnetic. It's pointing to you, then the window,” Wendy joked, watching the needle swing.
“Maybe Seaview's mass is throwing it off. That thing has NEVER worked right. You remember what that crazy old bat said when she gave me that thing?” Serena asked, turning her attention to Wendy.
Wendy tilted her head, slightly, trying to remember that particular encounter. “No, that one escapes me.”
“This will help you find your path. Unquote. Now how is a broken compass supposed to help anyone?” Serena asked. She pushed back away from her desk and rose, walking toward Chip. She held her hand out, and he surrendered the instrument to its current owner. Serena watched the dial spin drunkenly then stop abruptly to point straight at Chip. “See,” she reaffirmed, “broken.”
“Maybe it's my magnetic personality,” Chip quipped, only to have his sister slap him on the arm. She reached over and deftly plucked the box from Serena's palm. It started it's mad spinning again, this time with the red point coming to rest in front of Lee.
“Weird,” Chip replied.
“What's weird? Am I missing something important?” the distinguished bass of Admiral Harriman Nelson rolled through the room. All four looked up to see their employer standing in the doorframe, his deep sapphire blue eyes taking in the assembled quartet. “I was on my way up here to see if any of you were interested in a late lunch, on me. I thought we could talk about the next San Isabella run. I had no idea I was missing the show and tell,”
Chip was the one who spoke up first. “Admiral, we were just talking about Serena's compass collection. She has one that doesn't work,” he said with a nod to the box in Wendy's possession.
Nelson walked into the room, holding out one hand. Wendy dropped the object into the Admiral's waiting palm. Wendy watch as the needle of the compass made a smooth, one quarter turn, no spinning, to point directly out the window. Raising his eyes to the window, all Nelson could see was the Pacific Ocean and Seaview. With a snort, he handed the compass back to Serena, who closed the box and replaced it back on the shelf Chip had picked it from.
“A compass that doesn't work. A fairly useless thing for a sailor, I would think.”
In case anyone doesn’t get the Pirates of the Caribbean reference, the compass that played an important role is supposed to point to your heart’s desire. I told you I had a weird sense of humor