Girls Can't Sail

Chapter 1: This is a boy?

July 27, 1495.

          I have wanted to go sailing for a while now. Finally, I have the chance. Columbus said he'd sailed to India. I personally don't believe him. My grandfather sailed to India. He just didn't tell anyone. The reason I have the things I do is because of his adventure. He brought back clothes, gold, and new spices from the place. He's going on a voyage soon, and now that I'm almost 20, I can make my own decisions. I dream of feeling the mist on my face, the wind in my hai-

"Rosanna! Dinner is ready!" Mother called from down the hall. I sighed. So much for that entry. I'll just take it to dinner with me. I closed my book, grabbed my pen and started down the hall towards the warm room.

"Rosanna, no writing at the table, you're almost twenty!"  Mother chided when I had opened the notebook again. I sighed mentally.

"Yes, Mother." I responded drearily. It will have to wait till later. My gloomy mood brightened when I saw the meal prepared for us. Some sort of roast meat with my favorite; potatoes!  I reached over to try and sneak a piece but mother caught me and smacked my hand.

"Now, Now Rosanna! No eating before your father gets home." I rolled my eyes once she turned around. 'I was born for work, not play. I am a lady, not a barbarian. I must behave like a lady; else I shall be expelled from the family.' That's what Father always says. The sound of the tinkling bell that hung above the door to the shop got both of our attentions. "Go, tend to the customer." Mother made a shooing gesture while still stirring the pot of stew.

Gathering up my skirt, I hurried down the stairs to the shop. As always, the musty smell of antiques greeted me.

"Welcome to Bits, Bobs and Baubles, how can I he-"

I stopped midsentence. That's not a girl...that's a boy. Usually it's a girl, rarely do I ever see a boy. My parents shelter me a lot. I only see the outside when I run down to the pier every day. And even then, it's really early and there aren't many people out. " He-hello." I said curtsying before him. When I came out of my curtsy, the boy looked confused. "Why the curtsy? We are similar in age, so we can just wave." He did so as he said this. Is this what all boys are like? If that's the case....  I slowly waved back. He nodded approvingly. " Anyway, back to business. Is Mr. Eastcott here?"

"What business do you have with Father?" Just then, the bell tinkled. "Hello Father. How was work?"

"Fine." Father said drearily. "And who might you be?" He turned to the boy.

"I am Jekoro Deneau. You must be Mr. Eastcott." They stiffly shook hands. 

"I am Mr. Eastcott. Rosanna," Father told me. "Go upstairs and tell your mother I'm home."

"Rosanna, hm? That's a pretty name." Jekoro commented, smiling in my direction. I felt my face go red and ran upstairs.

"Busy down there, is it?" mother asked as I came up the stairs out of breath. "Father's home but there was a boy named Jekoro. He said he had business with father. I don't know why, personally. We run an antique shop, bu-"

"Did he give a last name?"  Mother asked suddenly.

"No. Why do you ask?"

"What did he look like? If my little Rosanna is going to meet a boy, he'd better be polite and good-looking!"

"Well, he had short, dark brown hair and, and the nicest eyes the color of toffee." I blushed as I thought of his smile just then.

Mother put down the cornbread she was mixing. She calmly but purposefully went downstairs, where I had just heard father yell (well, more like saying loudly) "1000 euros, no less!" 

"Dear, is it really necessary to yell?" Mother asked. I could hear her from the bottom step I was on.

"A compass is a small thing, not even the size of my hand! Is it really worth 1000 euros?" Jekoro inquired.

"It's my only one! You just expect me to give it away willy-nilly?"

"Father, you're yelling again..." I said quietly.

 "Rosanna, I am doing business with this...young man...and does not concern you."

"I'm the one who inherits the shop after you. So it does concern me." I reasoned.

"Just...leave, ok? Please, just leave."

"But-"

"NO BUTS. Just go." Father said forcefully.

I let out a frustrated cry." Why do you treat me like a child? I'm almost an adult. I can make my own decisions! "

"Rosanna Sheridan Eastcott!" Mother chided." Never speak to your father that way!"

"You certainly act like a child! Listen to yourself, whining!" Father countered.

"I...am going for a walk." I sighed.  I heard something fall to the floor, I didn't pay much attention. I was mad.