Moonlight Waves

Drowning

Nereida Sitara

  I squiggle the quill pen across the paper under the bright light of a full moon.
  Full moon.
  That marks almost two months out at sea looking for Roman. My parents are probably worried and Amadrya is most likely frustrated with me—for no specific reason, just to be frustrated instead of worried.
  I wish I could send them word, but we don't intend to port anywhere soon and then I would have to find a ship headed for Crescent Island. There's just no way to send them a note of comfort.
  Maybe I'm just flattering myself, it's only been two months, they might be enjoying themselves without me hanging about all the time. Though I hope that's not true and that's just my insecurities talking.
  I lick the seal on the envelope and turn it over to write the name but no address on it.
"What are you doing?" Charlie asks, sitting down next to me at the forecastle.
  "Writing letters." I tell him, "Roman had written some to me that he never got to give me and I wanted to answer them....I don't know..it makes me feel better, answering them. Like he's not so far away."
  I end with a shrug adding the last letter to my pile and placing Captain Dax's quill pen back in its ink pot.
"Oh, and one long one for Amadrya. She told me that she wanted to hear everything, so I figured I should write it down before I forget some of the details." I add.
  Charlie nods his head, staring off at somewhere distant. "Smart thinking." He says, surprising me when I didn't think he was listening to me anymore. But that's Charlie I suppose, the best listener I've ever known.
  I shove the letters into one of my extra stockings to help keep them safe in my duffel bag and cross my legs, clasping my hands in my lap. I lean forward to look around into Charlie's face, my hair creating a curtain between me and the rest of the ship.
  "You doing okay?" I ask him, not knowing if anybody has bothered to check up on him. Sometimes I forget he's the youngest of all of us, almost a year younger than I—making him sixteen.
  "Yeah," he shrugs, "just thinking."
"I'll pay you a penny for your thoughts." I say, and he cracks a small smile.
  "Nah, you probably don't want to, they're a bit morbid." He says.
  "Mmm, I don't know." I tell him, "I was literally just thinking I want to be buried under a full moon."
  "Really?" He asks me, avoiding my original question.
"Yeah, well not 'buried'. I want to be laid in a rowboat and sent off to sea for the sea to do what it likes with me." I finish with a dramatic gesture of my hand.
  "That's unique." He says.
"I thought so." I answer, then nudge him with my shoulder. "All right, I told you my morbid thoughts, now what's yours?"
He turns his face to look at me and seems to debate for a second before deciding to confide in me.
  "I was thinking of everything that the pirates might of done to Cal. Or what would have happened if I was taken instead of him. If I had been with Si that day above deck when they came for her instead of him."
  "Oh." I say, fingering the laces on my boots.
  "Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything." Charlie apologizes, shaking his head.
  "No, it's okay." I tell him. "I've thought about what they might have done to him over and over in my own head."
  He nods his head, getting that distant look in his eyes again as he looks back out at the never ending sea.
"He'll be okay." I say, repeating the same words I've been telling myself for the last two months.
"I know." He answers with a little less confidence than I'd like.
   I really want to change the subject, but every topic revolves around the here and now, or the unknown future. I could bring up something from our childhood, but instead I find myself saying something else.
  "Jacobe says we'll be at our first location by tomorrow, and after that we'll come upon The Widower."
"That's good." He answers, nodding his head slowly.
A cold wind blows across the ship and I wrap a coarse, wool blanket around my shoulders, my arms now covered in goosebumps and my body shivering.
I look out past the stern of the ship in the direction we've come from to see dark clouds covering the horizon and intent on following us. We're out of its way for now, but I fear it'll catch up with us soon.
Charlie notes the blanket around my shoulders and looks at the same dark clouds I see.
"The temperature has been dropping more and more each day," he says, "It's going to be a bad winter."
The sails flap loudly as another strong breeze spreads over the ship, almost as though they're asking for attention.
"Hopefully the sea won't get bad until after we're safely docked at home." I say, even though I know that's highly unlikely from the size of the storm clouds following us.
"Yeah, hopefully." Charlie responds, merely humoring my wishful thinking.
We sit together in silence for a while longer, and I watch as the moonlight lights up the dark waves with a silvery hue—the sea waltzing with the ship in a beautiful silver dress.
A strong feeling of nostalgia washes over me as I remember the first time Roman took me out to sea on the Moonlighter.
  It was only for a day, but Captain Dax took us out far enough that we couldn't see Crescent Island anymore. Amadrya was petrified not being able to see land and Robby spent most of the day trying to calm her fears. But I, I loved it. Every moment of it, every splash the sea threw in my face and every sway of the ship beneath my feet. There was a magic to it that can't be compared to anything else in this world, a beauty beyond comparison. I couldn't stop smiling that day, and as we headed back to Crescent Island and the sun began to set, Roman dared to hold my hand for the first time. He had no idea that I'd been in love with him since the age of fourteen, when I was just old enough to understand what it was I feeling for this boy.
  So with his hand in mine as the sun set and his eyes searching mine for conformation that this was okay, I had tightened my hand around his in response. Relief and pure joy had passed across his features and I relished the feeling that I could make him so happy.
I was still naive then, I had no idea how that childhood love for each other would grow into something so strong, something...that...burns and aches. As if you're being pulled under by the waves and the depths press against your chest, pushing out the air from your lungs. It's like drowning and the more you fall in love the more you're pained by the thought of losing him; and so the sea pulls you deeper and deeper into the blackest depths. It hurts the farther and farther you're pulled into the water, but the same thing that may be killing you is also the same thing keeping you alive—so you let it drag you under.
  It's not what Mother described love to be—it's not what anybody described love to be—it's not a pleasant feeling that fills your belly with butterflies.
No, it's the weight of the sea crushing your lungs and tossing you back and forth beneath it's waves. It's the calm before the storm and the storm in itself. And it hurts, but you let it hurt you. Because without it you know you wouldn't be the same and you know that for the pain of love to cease, would mean the love itself would cease. And you can't live without this love—the mere thought seems impossible.
  So you welcome the hurt, you embrace it and it's not until he is safe again does the pain subside. But the moment he is away from home, the waves pull you under again and you struggle for air.
That is what love feels like. There's the love God has for his sheep. There's the love parents have for their children. There's the love siblings have for each other. Then there's this—the love Roman and I have.
I can feel the tears filling my eyes and I look away from the sea and up to the sky to try and blink them back. I need to sleep. Being sleep deprived isn't helping me much, but it is hard to sleep when the entire crew seems to snore. I should try to go sleep now when they're all still busy.
"I'm going to go to bed." I tell Charlie, grabbing my stocking of letters and the quill and ink pot.
"Okay." Charlie says, sparing me a glance before returning to his deep thinking.
I give Captain Dax his quill back and go below deck to the sailor's quarters and stow the letters in my duffel bag before kicking off my boots and climbing into my hammock. A chill passes through the ship and I tuck the rough blanket around me like a cocoon.
Si is already asleep in her hammock next to me, apparently having the same idea as I to get some sleep while the crew isn't snoring.
Even in the dark Si is gorgeous. It's almost unsettling how gorgeous she is, every feature effortlessly perfect. Maybe "unsettling" isn't the right word, but intimidating. Yes, that's the right word. It's intimidating how perfect she is, but I suppose when you're a Governor's daughter you're expected to be as pretty as she is. It's devastating how quickly she was cast out from her family, yet at the back of my mind is jealousy for her effortless beauty.
I turn over in my hammock so as not to be a creep and began to slow my breathing, waiting for my thoughts to stop spinning and my brain to go to sleep.