Ship

Yet another unfinished story...

The air was brisk and breezy as the large ship sliced through the water. The trade winds blew strongly, filling the great white sails, moving the ship quickly. The deck was in pristine condition; the captain would allow no less. A symphony of sounds could be heard: the sound of the sea, the bellowing of the sails, and the goings on of the crew as they managed the lines and cleaned the deck.

The destination of their plight was unknown to me. I was not part of that crew. In fact, I didn’t even belong on the rig, but somehow I had boarded it. I don’t remember how. All I remember is waking up to the brisk, fresh air and smell of the open sea. I lay in a pile of ropes in a corner of the ship. Numerous sailors passed the spot where I lay without a glance, perhaps because it was hidden in the shadow of the captain’s quarters. I didn’t yell or cry out in surprise of my current situation. I just lay there in the shadows. It seemed so surreal, almost dreamlike. For all I knew at that point it was a dream, a very bizarre dream.

So there I lay, watching the crew toiling along with their everyday jobs. It was all so peaceful, until out of nowhere this old, disfigured face loomed over me. It took me quite by surprise; I had never seen a man like him so close up before. His skin was like tan leather and was missing a few teeth; the ones he had left were rotten and yellowed.

“What ‘ave we ‘ere?” He said, smiling a sneering smile with his missing, rotten teeth.

I was about to scream, when he grabbed me by the arm with a hard, callused hard. He was incredibly strong for a man of his age. The old sailor proceeded to drag me out to the middle of the deck. I struggle as best as I could, but his grip was like iron.

Once in the direct sunlight, all commotion on the ship ceased. The focus of everyone’s attention was on me. Their gazes burned a hole right through me and at once I wished I could be anywhere but there. Voices began to buzz with conversations.

One or them shouted out, “Eh Bill, what’s an ol’ tar like you doin’ with a bloomin’ flower like that?”

“I found ‘er in the ropes. I think she's a stole away.”

This is not good I told myself. I was in the hands of a seemingly cranky old man, on a ship filled with a bunch of sailors.

“Give her to me old man,” said one with particularly greasy hair.

“Stand back, Porter,” yelled the old man, who I guessed must be Bill, “I’m takin’ ‘er to the cap’in.”

At the time, I took this as a brief relief; at least old Bill didn’t give me to greasy Porter. After the newly gathered crowd made a path for old Bill, he continued to drag me around the deck, until he reached a burgundy door that lead to the cabin. In transport, I happened to look up and saw a banner that I had not noticed before. It was all black except for the white skull and crossbones in the center. Although I had never seen the flag in my life, I knew exactly what it was and what it represented.

The Jolly Roger had graced the tales of my childhood. Tales of swarthy pirates and their adventurous, yet horrific, deeds broke through the dams of my mind, flooding it with memories.

We stopped in front of the door. Bill motioned for two of the men to come forward and restrain me, one on each side, their smiles broad and chuckling deviously. After straightening his dirty, old shirt, he proceeded to walk up to the door. Curling his big, gnarled hand into a fist, he gently knocked on the door. I was surprised just how gently the knock was. I expected him to pound on the door; instead he gave it three brisk taps.

The crowd of men had become suddenly silent, yet I still could not hear the response from inside the door. But there must have been one, because Bill in the politest voice answered,

“Beggin’ yer pardon capt’n, but we be needin’ yer…assistance on the deck. I think we ‘ave a stole away.”

After a few moments, that seemed like an eternity, the door opened, letting a bit of spiced air permeate on deck. The person who stepped out was not like the dread pirate captains I had heard about in stories. He was short, shorter than I am, and he was young, very young. His face was smooth and feminine, his lips hard and thin. His eyes, which where a deep brown almost black, were bright with cunning. His one eyebrow was piqued in a perfect arch of amusement. However, his amusement was short lived once he laid eyes on me. Briefly, as wave of annoyance washed over his exotic features, but only briefly, if you blinked you would have missed it. The annoyance was replaced by an icy, nonchalant glare.

“So this is the stole away,” he said unimpressed. He had an odd voice, high yet it purred with a lower undertone.

“Aye, capt’n.”

“So what do we do with a stole away?”

“We throw them over but…”

“Then I see no need to further this conversation. Go throw her over.” He said this almost scoldingly, like a mother. It then dawned on me: the captain wasn’t a man, she was a woman.

Poor Bill protested, “But capt’n she’s a lass.”

“I realize that, Bill. Do ya think I’m blind?”

That annoyance was coming back quickly. It was obvious she took no pity on me, and it became obvious that I was about to be thrown off a pirate ship into the middle of the ocean. Realizing the gravity of my position for the first time, I began to panic.

“Wait, don’t do it,” I begged.

I know it was a pretty bad come back, but as I said, I was in a panic and wasn’t at my sharpest. She snorted and raised that eyebrow again, as she smiled. It was a rather seductive smile, her white teeth flashed in the sunlight. Many men would have become entranced in it. As a matter of fact that is exactly what it did to the crew. They looked at her with devotion, reverence, loyalty, and love. I could not fathom how a woman could conquer the respect of a group of gangly pirates.

“Why,” she asked, “you are a stole away and of no apparent used to me. In fact, I find you as more of a hindrance really.”

She gave a curt sigh before she continued. “Quite frankly, you’re just another mouth to feed,” then she added as if it was common knowledge, “and you’ll be a disturbance to my crew.” She glanced at some of the men as she said this. Some looked down, while other laughed a bit.

She lifted her hand for hand for silence and once more flashed one of those fantastic smiles.

“What say you?” Her eyes boar down upon me, her was tone overly inquisitive.

What could I say? I couldn’t tell her to hold me for ransom, my family was poor; yet maybe he would…

“I-I…I could be your servant!”

“My servant? What do I need a servant for? But…” She rubbed her bottom lip as she considered my offer. I saw a crack in the wall, so I decided to pick at it.

“You know to do your dirty work, clean the cabin, cook your food.”

“I already have someone who does all of that; however, the food could be better, and I suppose you could cook…but how do I know you won’t poison it?” She accused.

“I’d never…” She raised a hand for silence.

“Before you start saying anything to sway my mind I’ll tell you my decision.”

She clasped her hands behind her back and began to pace. “I am a lady of leisure,” she began, “and as a lady of leisure, I am also a gentlewoman. And gentlewomen need maidservants.” Yes I thought. “therefore, you will be indentured to me for a year, under penalty of death. If you will please follow me, I shall write up our agreement.”

With a graceful gesture, she motioned my captors to being me forward. They released me right before the door and sort of pushed me in, before shutting the door behind me.

The room was cool and lit only by the daylight that flittered in through the solitary window on the left wall. There was not too many furnishing, but what there was were lavish and ornate. Covering the wooden floor was a Persian rug with an elaborate design. A trunk encrusted with gold, sapphires, and pearls lay next to the back wall.