Page 49 of Leveling

The boat rocked and Beckett’s hand went instinctively to his stomach. Ugh. “I’m all out, so yes, definitely.”

“Help yourself, the pot’s just there.” He gestured with his head toward the counter.

Beckett slid out of the booth and took two lurching steps grabbing the counter for balance. His back was to the group which was good because he felt a bit green. He picked up the pot, empty.

Dr. Mags, her voice deep and no nonsense, said, “You pick up the empty pot, you gotta make more. Ship rules.”

Great. Beckett opened the cupboard and found a can of coffee and scooped into the basket as his stomach started to lurch. He filled the pot with water. Nausea hit him like a wave. He leaned on the counter. Head hanging.

The boat rocked back and forth. Beckett stumbled left and dropped his elbows to both edges of the sink and tried to focus on the drain but it was dancing and spinning left and right and in circles.

Someone behind him giggled.

Dan asked, “Did you remember to turn the coffeepot on?”

Beckett peeled open his eyes, forced his head up and checked. The button was off. He raised an arm and flailed at where the buttonshouldbe as his stomach rose to his throat. He groaned.

More giggling behind him.

Dan said, “Go ahead, man, let it go, you do it now, and I win the bet.”

Beckett dropped even further into the sink and asked, “You bet when I would throw up?”

Dan said, “Nah, man, I bet when you wouldstartto throw up.”

Beckett retched into the sink and it seemed like everything he had ever eaten came up everywhere.

Everyone slid out of the booths behind him and rushed to leave up the stairs. As he left, Dan said, “Jeffrey gets to clean that, for sure, since Sarah had to clean his up.”

Jeffrey mumbled, “Thanks.”

Beckett felt a hand on his back. Jeffrey looked at the opposite wall as he asked, “Okay?”

Beckett threw up again.

Jeffrey said, “Give it a second, and then go down to your bunk. Seriously, though try to go when you’re not puking everywhere, I don’t want to have to mop all those floors.”

“And don’t throw up on my bed!” Rebecca yelled down, but Beckett could barely hear over the whooshing in his head as his stomach lurched again.

Somehow Beckett made it down to his bunk and collapsed. He remained there for the rest of the day, unable to think about anything but his stomach and its mutiny against him.

* * *

Later Jeffrey sat at the end of his bed staring at a far wall. “So, apparently, since I cleaned up after you, I also get to check on you and see if you’ve survived.”

“I think so.”

“You still look green, I think you better stay down here until tomorrow. Here’s some dinner.” He passed a plate with ham and rubbery cheesy pasta.

Beckett’s stomach lurched. “It’s dinner time?”

Jeffrey bobbed his head, “Yep, whole day gone. We’re way out to sea. We were in the main sea route all day—so many boats, but now we’ve turned north. Less traffic.”

“Ugh, I didn’t even...” Beckett tried to sit up and then clutched his stomach.

“Yeah, you’re not coming up.”

Beckett laid back on the pillow. “Is someone looking for Nomads for...” Beckett leaned up and over and retched into a bucket.

Jeffrey shoved it closer with his foot.

“Captain Aria is keeping an eye out. Rebecca looked, but we haven’t seen anything. See you in the morning.”

Jeffrey left to go to dinner.

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