The Crescent Hour ✓

Chapter 2. The Chase

“Promise me you’ll write me letters.”

“Wha—”

“Promise me,” he insisted.

Understanding sank in. “I will.”

He peeked out of the shop and gestured at her to follow him. They hurried out and raced along the labyrinth of alleyways.

“Do you remember the harbor?” he asked. “Stick to the alleys. Just head to the north and you’ll find it. There’s a ship by the name of Esperanza that’s set to leave at dusk. It will take you to a small island off the coast of England. They call it San Cielo. I will visit you when Mother gets well.”

She memorized the instructions so that she wouldn’t forget. Timothy often worked as a porter in his spare time and she trusted the information he had given her was reliable. When he stopped, he ruffled her hair like he always did when he wanted to tease her. She looked daggers at him and he smiled.

“I’ll lead the others away,” he said. “Go now.”

She nodded and fled into a passage without looking back. She was afraid that if she did, she might change her mind. Her shoes rapped against the cobbled street as she sprinted from alley to alley.

Just a little further.

Fatigue slowed her down but she kept going. The fear of getting caught and being forced to go back home gave Clara strength to keep running.

When her legs buckled, she leaned on a wall and choked for air. Clara took a few minutes to catch a breath and think. The passageway she was in smelled of urine and mold. A heap of garbage stood a few feet from her and a swarm of flies buzzed around the litter. Disgusted, she stood up and proceeded on. With each step she took forward, pain shot up from her feet but she did not stop running until she reached the harbor.

The sun had settled on the western rim and snuggled among vapory clouds. A search party would still be hunting her. Narrowing her eyes, she looked at the rows of ships docked at the port. 

“Out of my way!” a voice shouted.

She jumped back to avoid hitting a man dragging a sack of potatoes. The port was teeming with sailors, travelers and traders. The smell of salt and sweat pervaded the air. Two hawkers argued over the prices of cotton, a bald porter with a large sack slung over his shoulder hurried past them and a few sailors heckled over a game of cards. Pieces of leaves and scraps of papers whirled along the wooden jetty when a gust of wind blew through the harbor.

“Fresh bread! Two coins for a loaf!” yelled a seller.

“Oho! Fish for all!”

It was noisy and dusty. No doubt, there would be thieves lurking in the shadows. She clutched at her bag firmly as she weaved through the crowd, fearing that a scoundrel might snatch it away the moment she lowered her guard.

After asking a street seller about the ship, she was shown to Esperanza. A sailor stopped her when she attempted to board it. Clara slipped a few silver coins at the seaman’s hand and it wasn’t long before she was shown to her cabin.

When the final rays of sunlight had been engulfed by the inky clouds, the large ship glided to its course. At last, she was free.

---

Two days had passed since Clara had made her escape from her town. She had spent most of her time in the ship by staying inside her cabin for fear that someone might recognize her. Rarely did she ever socialize with the other travelers.

The island of San Cielo would be far from her hometown and unless her father found out which ship she had taken, he would have difficulty in pinpointing her location. She would spend her days in the island and start a new life. She had heard from a sailor that a group of missionaries were heading there and she had considered joining them.

Sitting on her bed, she played with the necklace. Each time she held it, she felt a soothing feeling and it puzzled her.

Where have I seen this before?

She closed her eyes and tried to remember. The steady movement of the ship along the ocean waves calmed her. A flash of events floated in her vision. Memories long forgotten were brought back to life. She saw a woman sitting on a wooden chair by the window and cradling a child in her arms. She rocked her little girl back and forth. A melodious tune left her lips—a sweet lullaby that tempted her daughter to sleep. The child gazed at her loving mother and played with a long chain about her neck.

It was Mother’s.

The corners of her mouth tipped into a sad smile. It didn’t matter who had hidden it under the tree. She had found it and it would be hers forever. It had been a family heirloom, passed on from mother to eldest daughter.

As she delved into the memories of her time spent with her mother, she fell asleep. A few hours later, a loud thump woke her. She landed hard on the floor and hurt her bum. Clara sat up. A scene of devastation met her eyes.

Her traveling bag lay thrown on the floor, its contents spilled out. Fragments of glass glittered in a corner and an unlit lantern rolled the edge of a shelf. The ship swayed to the left. Standing up, she looked outside through the only window in her cabin. Black water lapped at the foggy glass.

Not bothering to get dressed, she stumbled to the door in her long chemise and opened it. Water rushed in. To the left of the corridor, splintered timbers circled a hole on the wall. Thunder roared in the distance.

A storm was brewing outside and the sinking ship was as its mercy.