Albert1434

Poor Hawaii

No I used my time machine!

OOPs. Just testing to see who a wake in here!

I see the Horror Show continue in here!

Aloha All

There he is again Mr. Mean

That doesn't take much

This is the second story I wrote and this is the first A Journey to Egypt

I am glad your enjoying the story!

Thanks Gary Boots rocks.

Aloha All

Could you like the chapter if you do! Thanks so much.

Thank you for this thoughtful reflection. You’re right — Julian’s journey may have begun on the deck of that ship, but Miles’s journey began the moment his brother stepped through the door and didn’t come back. In some ways, Miles is facing the harder road. Without Julian there to absorb the worst of their father’s expectations, Miles will feel the full weight of that household pressing down on him. The danger isn’t that he’ll break; it’s that he’ll bend in ways he shouldn’t have to. I share your hope that the connection between them holds. Even a thin thread — a letter slipped past their father’s eye, a few words written in the quiet of night — can keep Miles anchored to the version of himself that Julian always protected. Sometimes that’s all a boy needs to stay whole. And yes, the grandmother’s gift changes everything. It’s not just money; it’s freedom, foresight, and defiance wrapped together. Julian’s father may have imagined exile as a kind of slow erasure, a way to send his son somewhere distant enough to fade. But that inheritance means Julian won’t arrive in Hawaiʻi as a castaway. He’ll arrive with choices, with agency, with the ability to build a life that isn’t shaped by his father’s bitterness. The voyage itself will test him — long days, long nights, too much time to think, and just enough time to grow. But there’s something steady in him now, something that wasn’t there before. Maybe it’s Samuel’s presence, maybe it’s the shock of freedom, maybe it’s simply the first breath of a life that belongs to him. Your reading captures all of that — the parallel journeys, the quiet fears, the fragile hope. It means a lot.

I post on Tuesdays and Fridays! And thanks!

And on the ship, meeting Samuel becomes the first unexpected shift. He isn’t much older — just five years, close enough that Julian doesn’t feel overshadowed, but far enough that Samuel carries a steadiness Julian can lean into. There’s something quietly compelling about him, something in the way he watches the horizon and seems to understand how a person holds themselves together even when the sea gets rough. Whether the waters stay calm or turn wild, Samuel feels like someone who could help Julian find his footing. His grandmother’s gift is the other anchor in all this. She didn’t just leave him money — she left him a way out, a chance to build a life shaped by his own choices instead of his father’s authority. Julian may not know exactly how he’ll invest it yet, but he already understands its meaning: it’s the first real piece of freedom he’s ever been given.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read the first two chapters. Hearing that you’re already hooked means the world to me. I’m thrilled the opening pulled you in, and I truly appreciate your kind words and support. It’s encouragement like yours that makes sharing this story worthwhile. Thank you for being part of the journey.

I think this is a great Idea! Arrg I'm so pissed of at myself I could Gibbs slap me behind the head!

We have no Idea of what happened to Elias since Julian had no contact with him. The story is from Julians POV and when he wrote to him he had include his address. We shall have to wait and see if anything comes of it!

Yes he will

Thank you for such a thoughtful reflection on Julian’s departure. His journey truly begins the moment the shoreline slips away, and you’re right — his grandmother’s gift is more than money. It’s a quiet act of defiance, a final gesture of love from someone who understood exactly what kind of man his father had become. She couldn’t stop the exile, but she could give Julian the means to shape whatever life waits for him across the ocean. Samuel Hart enters Julian’s world at precisely the moment he needs someone steady, someone older, someone who speaks without judgment. Wisdom, friendship, and simple human warmth — all of it matters on a voyage that feels less like travel and more like the slow unspooling of the life he’s leaving behind. And Julian does feel something for Samuel, something he doesn’t yet have a name for. Only time will tell what comes of it, but the spark is there, quiet and unmistakable. And Miles… yes. The fear for him is real. Julian carries it with him, tucked between memories of the boy he wrote to and the grandmother who believed in him. The hope is that the brothers can keep writing, quietly, carefully, beneath their father’s cold gaze. Those letters may become the only thread connecting Julian to the home he no longer belongs to. This is the beginning of Julian’s transformation, and the beginning of the tale itself — a life‑changing adventure for him, and a shadowed, uncertain future for Miles.

Julian didn’t just leave home; he stepped out of the version of himself his father had engineered. In the space left behind, only three people remained real to him — his grandmother, whose final gift was a kind of permission to build a future of his own; the boy he cared for, to whom he sent a farewell that hurt to write; and Miles, who cried in a way Julian will remember for the rest of his life. Miles will have to grow quickly now. Their father will tighten his grip, and the expectations that once pressed down on Julian will settle onto the younger son with twice the weight. The long voyage gives Julian something he’s never had: time. Time to think, to shed the old skin of obedience, to imagine a life not dictated by someone else’s rules. Samuel Hart, the bosun’s mate, is the first person he meets who feels steady, approachable, human. Julian likes him immediately, and that small connection matters. Hart is simply someone he can talk to — someone who makes the transition feel less like exile and more like the beginning of a life he hasn’t yet learned how to picture. Somewhere on that ship, somewhere between the coastline he left behind and the horizon he’s sailing toward, Julian understands the truth of his own exile: “I was no longer a son being sent away. I was a man being carried toward a life I had not yet imagined.”

Thank you so much for reading these opening chapters. You’ve captured the heart of Julien’s early world exactly as it’s meant to feel — the suffocating precision of his father’s control, the quiet intelligence of his grandmother, and the fragile loyalty between the brothers. Julien may eventually slip free of the claws that held him, but you’re right to worry about Miles. The faultlines in this family don’t disappear just because one son escapes them, and the consequences of that imbalance will follow both boys into the chapters ahead.

Aloha All