To Strange Horizons

Chapter Six.

Jake was right. It was scary. Decorations began to fall from the walls, papers sliding off the desk. Mariana and Pearl sat in bed, wrapped in blankets. Mari had been trying to read a withered copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream but was unable to focus after page 5.

She found a (mostly) blank piece of paper that had fallen off the desk, using it to draw a picture to ease her mind.

She scribbled a series of circles and lines, some darker than others. She had no plan for what she was drawing, but she quickly noticed what it had become. Captain Jake Kiszka.

She shaded his prominent nose, down the the slight arch, and took some time in detailing his thick eyebrows. It wasn't perfect, but it was unmistakably him.

Thunder cracked loud, another wave nearly tipped the ship. She heard Jake yelling orders upstairs.

Pearl crawled further into her lap, the two shook together until they both fell asleep.

Mariana was woken from a long nap when she heard the door slam shut.

Heavy, angry footsteps made their way through the room. Jake had not noticed Mari yet.

He peeled off his wet clothes, slamming them onto the floor. He muttered profanities under his breath, kicking fallen objects to the side.

That's when he noticed the drawing. It sat on the floor beside the bed. His hair had dripped onto the paper as he reached for it, leaving small wet drops scattered throughout.

"Do you like it?" Mariana spoke up, startling the Captain.

"Oh! Yes. Absolutely. Mari, it's beautiful." He stared at the drawing, his facial features softening as he took a seat on the bed. "Is this how you see me?"

She had never thought about the dysmorphia one would get from living at sea. He had no mirrors, only reflections in anything polished. It would be easy to begin to see yourself as less than.

"Jake..." she ran her nails softly over his damp back. "You're beautiful."

He stared at the drawing in his hand.

"Thank you." He would never admit it, but he was beginning to feel emotional.

He had a long, hard night on deck. The lives of everyone on board were in his hands. To come home and see how appreciated he was, well, he may have teared up a little bit.

He crawled under the covers next to Mariana, laying his head on her chest. She softly scratched what she could reach of his back, humming the lullaby her nanny used to sing her.