The Sound of a Siren's Call

58.) A Pirate's Homecoming

I ignored my father with all the intensity I could muster. His anger had cooled, it always did. He was a man of strong emotions that passed almost as quickly as they came. He could be elated one moment, and stern the next.

I had known when he began berating me that it wouldn't last long, but I ignored him, staring at the wall, all the same.

It was nighttime, so the ocean wasn't as pretty as it could have been, but I still preferred it to anything my father could have signed. I didn't want him to apologize for his outburst or to stand by it and rationally explain how what I did was wrong by him. I had wanted to come home so badly, but now, home felt so off somehow. It felt hostile. It felt... different. I didn't like it.

The crew gave me some funny looks as my father had carried me back on deck. I didn't know if they'd been supportive or disdainful looks. It was probably a mix of both.

I'd never minded being alone before, but it'd never felt as lonely. I didn't want to be lonely. I didn't like being lonely.

I missed Ryan. I almost found myself wishing I'd never left her. Her and Cal and Leland. Her and her mischievousness. Her and all her flaws. Her and her adventures.

I wanted the taste of her lips again. I laid my head back down. It didn't feel like home anymore. I didn't know what I'd expected my father's response to be, but I didn't like what it had been. I didn't know what I'd even have to say to him.

I knew I should say sorry, but I wasn't. I really wasn't sorry. I had done what I thought was right. I had known he was against it, yes. That hadn't really mattered to me. Was I supposed to apologize for not caring? Was I supposed to apologize for being reckless?

I didn't know what to do. Or if I did know what to do, I wasn't willing to do it. I closed my eyes.

I didn't want to see my mother. If my father had been mad, I couldn't imagine her. I didn't want to see her. I didn't want to face her. Maybe that made me a coward. Maybe it was just the natural conclusion of our already strained relationship.

I swallowed. I could feel myself falling asleep, the ocean trying to persuade me to leaving my problems to the next morning. Eventually, I gave in.

Ψψψ

I took a deep breath. I was still on the ship I'd grown up in. I felt the pillow. The stitching was rough. Someone seemed to have done a rough job of repairing it.

I'd stabbed it. That's why they'd had to repair it. I could apologize for that. That was rude of me. I could feel it already that I wouldn't apologize for it. I wasn't quite sure why.

I sat up, my bare feet on the wood floor. The ship rocked gently. I looked out the window. Clouds were creeping over the horizon. A storm was coming.

It felt like a storm was raging inside of me already. I had woken up, imagining Juniper and Castor, somewhere in the waves.

I didn't know if they were okay. I didn't know anything about what'd happened after I'd been brought aboard. Would I ever see them again? I wanted to see them again. I missed them.

Part of me hated myself for missing them. It felt wrong of me in some odd way. Maybe it was because I'd never left home before or because I'd never really felt so close to anyone, but I'd never really missed anyone that way before. I wanted to talk to them. I wanted to ask how to deal with coming back home to find everyone resented me just a little more than I'd ever imagined they could.

The Red Revenge hadn't wanted me to leave. I knew that when I did it, but not in the sense I did now. Not in the way I did now. I had a lump in my throat. I hugged the pillow to my chest, rough stitching and all.

I guess it was unreasonable to expect that I could jump right into my life as it had been. I had been away, something was bound to have changed. Everything had always been so fast aboard the Red Revenge. I guess I'd left that out of my calculations. It wouldn't have frozen in time for me. Nothing could make the crew do that.

I didn't want them to that, but I also didn't want them to have left me behind. I guess I'd done that to myself. I stared out at the sea, the waves forming little peaks, then falling apart and forming them again.

I knew in my heart that I wouldn't stay if I had it to do over again. So why did I feel so bad? Why did I feel so horrible?

I was sure that I had done what I needed to do. I didn't regret it. So why did I want it to have all turned out differently.

I turned back on my side. I stared at the wall a while, struggling to figure out what to do. What else could I do? I didn't want to face my father again. It didn't feel right to rejoin the crew. I didn't have the energy to even begin to think about seeing my mother again. We'd never had a good relationship. I couldn't imagine what running away had done to it.

A light flashed next to the door. I guess I wouldn't have much of a choice but to face my father. I braced myself again. His anger had probably worn out, but that felt like it would be somehow worse.

The door swung open. I sat up.

"Nigel?"

"Arriana. I'm glad to see you back home."

"You're not mad at me?"

"No. Most of us don't have grounds to be mad. Pirates aren't known for staying home and living a respectable life."

I laughed. He stood in the doorway.

"You're safe?"

I nodded.

"Good. Breakfast is ready when you want to come out of your room."

"I can't have it here?"

"You know how Cook is. Come on. It'll be a good time."

He turned around, and made his way out of my line of sight. I sighed. I guess I wouldn't have any choice but to see my father and his crew. I stood.

Off to breakfast I would go. As I walked toward the smell of fatty meat cooking, all I could think of was the ridicule that also awaited me.