The Crew of the Mantis

This is a short story I wrote for my Creative writing class and I really liked the characters. I thought I would post it here and get some feedback. It's not perfect and I had some difficulties turning it into a story, but I am proud of it. If anything, it can just be an archive of some beloved character traits.

“So, what’ll it be Oh Captain My Captain,” the jolly bartender sang to a sullen man, “your usual I’m guessing?”

“It’s been the same drink for a decade, Mr. Fatima, and I don’t plan on changing my order. I’ve sat on this exact stool at noon on every Sunday since I got my business running and I always wonder why you never have my drink waiting for me.” The sullen captain replied with a half smirk on his face.

Captain Linneaus was an intelligent man. His unblemished face was accompanied by a long grey beard that was kept orderly with a clean knot. The eyes of determination were carved sharply under his thick stern brow. He wore an old wool navy coat that was pulled taught by his broad shoulders and a large yellow belt. This leather belt was equipped with several different pouches, every one filled and organized. With the help of his only friend, Mister Bandinelli, a finely crafted gun holster was sewn to the inside of his jacket. This held an old six-shooter that never jams and never misses its target. He would fill the gun with 5 copper full metal jacket rounds followed by a bullet made completely of silver. Captain Linneaus was not a man to believe in the supernatural, but he was a man who was ready for anything.

            As if Fatima was reading from a script, he began filling a pint glass with stout and said “because I want you to keep your options open, sir, and please, call me Desmond.” He put the glass on a handmade wooden coaster that depicted an albatross and slid it in front of Linneaus. “I suppose you would like some chips as well then. Lightly salted?”

            “Desmond is the name of a boy. When are you going to represent your family and let me treat you like a professional?” the captain took a sip of his drink and released a sigh, “Chips would be lovely, and make it a double order, I am expecting company.”

            The bartender wrote on a ticket and threw it in the kitchen window and replied, “I can go by my first name while still being professional, just like your company can use his last name and still act like a child.”

            Right on cue, Mr. Bandinelli barged through the door of the Seaside Tavern and made his way across the room. He sat down and took a large handful of the chips that were just placed in front of the captain. There was always something different about him and today he carried an unidentifiable musty odor.

 Mr. Bandinelli was a drunk, but you would never know this if he didn’t pull out his never ending flask of fine Irish whiskey every two seconds. He was an attractive man much like Captain Linneaus, but in a gentler way. Brown wavy locks of hair were pushed off to either side of his head. He was clean shaven out of necessity. He has tried to grow a goatee in the past, but even that small pasture of hair would grow in patchy and discolored. A black leather vest riddled with hideous pockets draped carelessly over an unbuttoned collared shirt. Each pocket held a memento that signified one of the hundreds of islands or ports that he has visited. Every time he visited a new place, he would sew on a new pocket and would not let the captain leave until he found a trinket worthy enough to represent the area. His eyes showed signs of insomnia and if you looked into them deep enough you would see the wonders of the cosmos.

“Where are we headed today, boss?” the mumbling man said with a mouth full of potatoes.

“I can’t understand you when you’re chomping like a hog,” the captain spat, “But, I am going to assume you were talking business. We are heading to a small island that is a few hours off coast. The prosperous family that lives on that island has graciously asked me to bring some supplies out to them. It’s odd for people to live that far out into the ocean, but I won’t judge. I imagine they have a plane or a boat of their own and it might just be broken down. Their package is coming from the engineering warehouse after all... Are you even listening?”

Mr. Bandinelli, who was deep in thought and drink, shook his head gently and said, “What do you think their house looks like? I wanna say it’s going to be several smaller houses scattered around a courtyard of cobblestone.”

“Well, after you finish the chips, we can get going and you will be able to see for yourself.”

They ate in silence until Mr. Bandinelli rose from the chair and left the building unannounced. The captain quickly threw down money enough to cover his bill and a tip for the kind man behind the bar. With a straightening of his coat, he marched out of the tavern leisurely pursuing the strange quiet man. He knew Mr. Bandinelli would be waiting on their ship.

When Captain Linneaus started the engine of his delivery tug boat, Bandinelli was sewing a swatch of green to his vest and making a new pocket. The boat sputtered and began moving. It wasn’t a fast boat, but it was reliable. Three hours passed before a large island with a landing strip could be seen on the horizon. On the far side of the island there was a small dock where the captain parked his boat. The crate that he was delivering was almost too heavy for a dolly, but with the help of Mr. Bandinelli, they managed to get it on land. A Man in his late 20s rushed down to meet the two.

“Good day, gentlemen, would you mind following me with that to the hangar?” the mustached man asked.

“Certainly. Do you mind us asking what you have in here?” the captain replied.

“My plane broke down a few days ago and I needed a new part for the engine. I usually fly in to get fuel and supplies, but I obviously couldn’t do that with a plane that couldn’t even get off the ground. There is a few gallons of fuel and the needed part along with your payment.”

“That’s a rather unorthodox way of conducting business mister…”

“You can call me Angus.” He interrupted while opening a door to a small half-cylinder building. “Could you open the crate and unload the part and fuel on that work bench over there?” he said, gesturing to a long wooden table with tools on it.

Mr. Bandinelli, who was silent up until this point, chimed in, “I’ve never been in a plane before, do you mind if I check it out for a few minutes?”

“I suppose you can’t damage her any more than she already is,” Angus agreed “climb on in while I help your fellow unload my shipment.”

Mr. Bandinelli climbed the small ladder that led to the cockpit and hopped in. The other two men began unloading the crate and ignored the excitement in his eyes. It only took about five minutes to get to the bottom where another small package was kept.

“That’s yours,” Angus addressed the captain, “Inside is a gold bar that should get you quite a profit and I also included my favorite bottle of wine. Thank you for your business, captain, I hope we can do this again in the future.”

Captain Linneaus gave a slight nod and called to Mr. Bandinelli that it was time to go. They shook hands with Angus and left quickly. After an hour at sea, the captain opened the package and pulled out the promised bottle of wine. He opened it with a corkscrew that he had in his belt and handed it to his partner. They would take a swig and pass it back and forth after every swallow.

After a few minutes, the captain spoke up, “What did you find back there that was worthy enough to put in your hideous vest?”

Mr. Bandinelli didn’t say anything. He just reached in to the green pocket that he sewed on earlier.  He balled his fist around something metallic and dangled it in front of the captain with a laugh. The keys to a small aircraft hung briefly before being dropped in their final resting place of Mr. Bandinelli’s vest of wonder.