Could Have, Should Have, Didn't - A Narnia Fanfiction

Chapter Eight: Running From It All

Drip, drop. Rain drizzled halfheartedly down upon the deck of the boat, adding an eerie sound to the stillness of the third-class level. Like little gunshots echoing off of empty walls.

The stairs creaked as a man who'd been up on deck came down, his pants sloshing every time they hit his shoes, his voice complaining all the while of how cold he was.

Hammocks creaked and groaned; people whispered of things just out of earshot. Mrs. Anderson and her many children could be heard every few minutes, crying and laughing and crying again, a small break to the silence.

Not a welcome one.

Ed put his hands over his ears and grumbled. That right there was why he was never having children. They were so noisy! How would he ever get sleep?

Having children would mean he would have to be responsible too. And he wasn't too fond of that.

Not one bit.

Beside him, his candle burned to halfway, its flames reaching for the ceiling.

It wasn't bedtime yet, but it ought to have been. Darkness had coated everything, sounds were quiet. Nothing stirred. Everything moved in slow motion around him.

If only he could sleep.

Yet all he did was toss and turn, flip his blanket off and drag it back on, pick up a book, shut it, get up, walk around, and come straight back. To stare endlessly again.

This day seemed to last forever. So did the drizzle scampering down from the clouds. Each second a minute, each minute an hour.

To his left, Edith and Ivy read books, the pages turning with a crisp snap every so often. Timothy, Robert, and Rita all were playing Jacks to his right, sighing and having to restart when the boat leaned too far one way.

And Lucy... she was...

He blinked, catching the gaze of everybody else who resided on this boat. Yet no bubbly Lucy. Where was she? Panic spiked through his heart.

His breath came short.

Lucy, his sister, missing and in danger.

Lights blurred.

Then he could sense a pair of eyes on him, boring into the back of his head, and he turned in his hammock, glancing up into his sister's face.

She was safe!

She clutched her hands tightly together and opened her mouth as if to speak.

Everyone else stopped what they had been doing, seeming interested in whatever she was about to say, hope evident in their features.

So he stood up, raising his eyebrows. "What? What is it? What's wrong?"

Lucy's face glittered in the evening glow of the fiery candles around her, shadows whirling on the walls as people walked by. "No, nothing's wrong... but... Well, some people on the first class level are hosting a dance- and I was thinking... we should go! It was more for wealthier people, but I figured we could still go, they didn't say anything about an invitation, so we could slip right in... They'll never know we're poor, besides, Timothy and Robert are rich..."

His sister was as bad as he was.

Trickery?

Where had she heard of a dance on the higher levels? She must've been snooping around, asking people things, and piecing together plans. Still, as much as he admired her sense of adventure- he groaned.

A dance?

Defying the rich and the security part sounded fun, but the dance... In all of his life, dancing had been at the bottom of his list of disliked things. Never moved. Wouldn't move now.