I ran my fingers through the clothes at the antique mall, an old warehouse, filled almost to the rafters with furniture, boxes and clothes racks, the walls lined with paintings, some probably of value but i never had the time to learn the entire trade, it was dark for the skylights had long since been cleaned, and not to mention the intoxicating smell of old wood, freedom stood behind me in the form of an open barn door, casting a natural light on the clothes rack i was rapidly sifting through.The occasional cheap suit and old plaid shirts, worthless, like it always was, aside from the vintage silk ties and rare vintage suits that were actually worth buying, something in that rack had caught my eye.
It was no suit, but a jumper, a pullover, black with a V-neck and wide collar, gold stripes and insignias, it looked futuristic, almost like something from star trek, but even then i knew it was a 1940s Navy sailors jumper they call the cracker jack, indeed it had the flap collar and everything.
At this point it’s worth noting that i have long been a lover of the sea, as a kid i watched every pirate movie and movie that had boats and ships in it, i played Assassin’s Creed 4 to absolute death when i first got it, when i was 12 i was listening to and singing shanties long before they were popular, my parents always discouraged me from joining the Navy, they always told me my love of the sea wasn’t all what it seemed.
It soon all slipped away from me, and by the time i was 16 i barely knew the lyrics to Drunken Sailor, i got into thrifting instead, and would make decent money for my age by selling what i had found, but here i was, holding a $20 piece of naval history, wearable history, there was no chance of me turning it down, i bought it, i didn’t even care if it was my size.
Of course my parents still never agreed with my love of the salty breeze, and would still joke about it, had they been with me on that day they would probably have made me put it back.
Back at home a gentle cleaning brought it up nicely, and i tried it on, much to my luck it fit perfectly, almost like it was made for me, yet my parents didn’t really approve of it, there wasn’t much they could do.I liked wearing that jumper, a lot, especially to the seaside, the sound of the flap falling home whenever i put it on never ceased to satisfy me, it was amazing.
Under that flap was actually still the name of a sailor, my endless research found that he was among the dead on a warship that sank during WWII, it was a strange thing, but one i assumed was either a hoax by a later owner, or from someone with a similar name, after all, they were a radio man, and this one was electricians mate, i didn’t even think that radio men got cracker jacks.
Soon i got back into it, and was listening to shanties and taking part in talk like a pirate day, my parents soon got tired of me singing shanties, so i started performing in public, this was around 2018 so shanties weren’t in yet, but still that cracker jack got me a lot of street cad and some even thought i was a sailor.
But that’s when it all started happening, vivid dreams of steel corridors, the sound of alarms, and the sensation of up becoming down, sometimes i dreamt of what happened, i was trying to fix something on the warship, possibly a radar, when there was a loud bang, i would run out of that equipment room hoping to get on deck, but the ship would always capsize before i could.
Soon i started to be effected during the day, things like the old sea legs, which would concern my parents, but the doctor could never find anything, and i would have an uncontrollable to reaction to seeing vintage electronics and radios, it got so bad i couldn’t look at the electronics at the antique mall.
Eventually i did more research on that sailors name and that ship, i found out it was torpedoed and capsized as a result, no one below deck could escape in time, i still never believed it was his jumper i had.
And that’s when it come, one night i had put the jumper on a chair in the corner of my bedroom, even though the lights were off, some moonlight broke through the curtains and cast on the flap, the 3 distinctive golden stripes were the last thing i remember seeing before i sank into one of the aforementioned dreams.
All i remember of the dream, was feeling the sensation of death by drowning, and watching as the lights down the steel corridor flicked off, one by one, as both me and this floating fortress slowly died a salty death.
The next i remember, i had woken, but not on my bed, i felt the carpet beneath me and knew i was on the floor, and as i come to, i noticed the jumper was missing from the chair, i was wearing it, and it was soaking.
I knew i had smelt that smell somewhere before, it was the smell of the seaside and i quickly realized, for some reason, i and the jumper were soaked in sea water.
I knew what i was going to do.
It was the next time i was out performing shanties by the seaside, and when i was done and knew no one looking, i took off the jumper and threw it into the sea..
*splash* and i watched as the salty water washed over it, i briefly saw the flap and the two golden stars upon it, before it drew further away and eventually sank into the murky depths, to it’s watery grave, where it should have been some 80 years ago, i still don’t know why i did it, i know i should have gone it to a museum, but the deed was done.I then went to a surplus store and bought an almost identical cracker jack, that’s the one i still have to this day, this is a story i have told no one and never will, and i’m quite well known as a folk singer in my community, my fans will never know either.