The sea was calm. Uneasily calm. Just the night before it had been a raging storm! They barely could get a handle on any part of the ship! But the calm was fine. No one wanted to be racing around in a panic, praying to whatever deity they believed in for their safe passage. And, out of everyone, young Christopher Nott didn’t want to see the rain again. So calm was good.
Most of the crew had retreated into the bottom of the ship, drinking and having a merry time. Christopher wasn’t interested in that. He wasn’t on big celebrations. The ship still needed checking after that storm yesterday—responsibility before fun. The few crew members that thought the same were up on deck, taking inventory of the ship’s condition. However, some murmured about wanting to join the others. And eventually, one by one…Christopher was left alone on the ship’s deck, save it for the odd, gruff man at the wheel.
‘No wonder these ships don’t last long. Everyone would rather get drunk than take care of it.’
With frustration, the teen chucked aside the mop he was using to clean a stain. He should have never taken this job. This…sailing across the ocean to sell goods to merchants in the east…it was pointless. But the ship needed a doctor, and Christopher was the closest they would get without taking a real doctor out of the country. He wanted to stay home with his family and assist his father…but his family needed the extra money…so he accepted this job if half of his salary was handed over to his father. There were no arguments to the deal. The ship needed a doctor, even an apprentice to a doctor, badly. But this constant lack of work from the crew members he was supposed to take care of had ailments of driving him to the ends of his rope.
The teen sided, leaning against the side of the ship. He stared down at the flowing water as he tried to remember the name of the particular part of the ship he was on. He was sick of being made fun of by the crew, how, even though he had been on a few voyages, that he still didn’t know the terms for the different parts of the ship. In his mind, why did that matter? But after yesterday…he saw that it did. Out of everyone, he wasn’t running to the proper places just at the command of the captain. No…he just followed everyone else. Somehow the captain noticed and scolded him for it.
‘I’m your doctor…not your cabin boy…’
Suddenly, the stillness of the ocean was interrupted. The splash startled the young man and he instantly sought for what it was that made the sound. There was nothing. But he could see ripples from where the water was disturbed. He continued to search, even going as far as leaning a little closer to the clear waters. There was still nothing. Then, shyly, something surfaced. His eyes went wide with surprise. Before him was a woman with a hair the color of the ravens, eyes the color of deepest midnight black silk, and skin the color of pale snow. The ocean covered the rest of her body, making it so only her neck up was visible to him. They stared at each other with curiosity and in silence. What was a woman doing in the ocean? Was she in trouble? Her head inclined a little higher, showing her collarbone now. Her arms reached out from the depths…fluidly beckoning him to her. She began to hum a little tune and quietly smiled. For some reason…he felt the urge to comply. Christopher slowly began to lean in closer and closer to the waters, wanting to join her. He almost had made it to the deep blue when…
“What the hell are ya doing?!”
Christopher was jerked back, thrown onto the deck. He blinked in confusion—unsure of what just happened. The man that was usually at the wheel, Viktor was it, towered over him with this look of murder in his dark eyes.
YOU ARE READING
The Siren Beckons
General FictionWhat will we do with a drunken whaler? What will we do with a drunken whaler? What will we do with a drunken whaler early in the morning?