Rhapsodies

The submarine gave Kevin a headache. When he wandered the seemingly endless corridors, he kept getting lost, and the cramped space didn’t help. He knew a crew existed, but he only ever saw Peaseblossom and the woodchuck. Shadows flickered at the edge of his vision, and voices whispered right behind him, warning him not to press any buttons.

He grew bored, even though he had no idea how long he’d been onboard. He found a rec room, but the old games had missing pieces, and the DVDs were either movies he’d already seen or, according to whoever whispered behind him, classified.

“Don’t ye worry, none,” Peaseblossom assured him. “Everythin’ will be all right. This here’ll be our best job yet, I reckon.”

“What kind of job?” Kevin asked.

Peaseblossom looked sheepish. “Well, ’tis best if you see for yerself, innit?” she said.

She produced what looked like an old naval uniform out of nowhere. “This’ll impress ’em at the interview, it will,” she said.

“We don’t have the job yet?”

“Why d’ye have to be such a pessimist?” Peaseblossom asked, looking annoyed.

Kevin suspected Peaseblossom liked him better when he stayed clueless, so he said nothing.