Freedom's Horizon: Spirit of Belize (WLW)

Part One: Chapter Seven

Docked in Kingston, Jamaica

Genny handed a crate of goods to Felipe with a huff and marched to the steps leading onto the ship. She hadn't been able to think straight since Ines did what she did and no, they hadn't run into another issue with the British Navy, but that didn't shake the disarray in her heart. As she got onto the ship, she sighed again and made her way to the crew's barracks. Ines' empty hammock hung there and she went to it, recalling her sleeping in every morning before she even realized the day crew was already up and about. Then again, everyone shared everything, all the work, so it didn't surprise Genny she'd taken a while to grow accustomed to it.

She sat in her hammock and felt something hard wedged beneath it between the netting and the crates there. Once she'd pulled it free, she realized it was the journal Margaret had given Ines and she thought about not opening it at all. Although, it wasn't as if they'd ever be together again, and her inquisitiveness won out. She opened it and silently read the Spanish etchings.

The cook gave this to me. She is kind. I am not sure when that kindness first spread to me, yet I feel it so terribly deep with these unassuming people. It is so odd to feel things for people I have only known for a hair's breadth moment, but I find myself drawn to them.

They are genuine. Truthful and transparent in everything they do and say, and oh, what a lovely thing to be around.

They do not hide away their darker intentions because they have none, yet these are the very same lot my husband wishes to eradicate. I pray I can find a way to help them, but know I can never be anything more than this shell of what I once was. I cannot even recall the time when I was happy. Not in full. However, little by little, I feel it returning to me as these wonderful souls surrounding me help to shed my worn and tattered excuse for a self.

Genny grimaced as she read the self-deprecating words, still angered by the people who made Ines feel so useless as she flipped a bit further into the book and found her name. Curiosity winning over her more demure traits, she read it as well.

It has been nearly two months if not that since I began sailing with this crew and I wish to one day become a part of them, though I doubt it even possible. Still, the thought of perhaps knowing them more before I am inevitably stolen back to my husband's side keeps me up and curious to ask more questions. Something about these people is different, but I find it not harmful, nor fearful. Instead I find myself asking for more.

Gen gives me that, but is reluctant to tell me too much more. I still carry the strong hope that one day she can tell me more of her. Whether it be bad or good, I want to know more about her the most. Something within her is so akin to Catalina, but I dare not say it aloud and chance her being gone before I can even know her. She is the most genuine person I have ever met. All those within this ship are, yet Gen conveys herself as such more than the others. She glows in the sunlight and I find myself caught in a stare she manages to match throughout the day. I even look forward to those moments as she gazes toward me with such fondness I feel my skin coming to life.

This goes beyond the moments shared between Catalina and I and I wish to explore it, yet know it would be folly. As much as I hate the outcome, I know it is inevitable I will end up with my husband, most likely dying by his hands one day after bearing his heir. I wish to spend my remaining days with this crew, with Gen, knowing it will never come to fruition.

Instead, I have my imagination. I have my daydreams of sailing with this crew on their many adventures and even fighting alongside them. I dream of spending my evenings with them, enjoying the laughter that always billows about. They truly are such a lovely and jovial bunch. I imagine being with Gen, my new and dear friend, in all this, but I do not belong amongst them. I am a hazard to all those around me and those great imaginations will only stay as such.

Genny felt a tear roll down her cheek and couldn't hold back any longer. She hurriedly tucked the journal into her rucksack that lay on the floor next to a nearby hammock and a few provisions from the crates before running up the stairs. Once she was topside again, she checked that the deck was clear and found no one there. After tearing a piece of paper from the journal within her rucksack, she ran to the captain's cabin and grabbed the quill on her bookshelves built into the wall. She wrote a quick note for the captain to find when she was long gone and ran back onto the main deck.

Once she was sure she was still alone, Genny was in charge of keeping guard of the ship while the others were away after all, she ran to the side of the ship and lowered a lifeboat, then climbed into it, dropping it all the way. She began rowing away once she was settled and spotted Felipe and Colel returning to the ship as they held onto one another and conversed inaudibly. Quickly ducking into the night sea, Genny picked up her pace and got as far away as she could, hoping they wouldn't notice her absence at least until the morrow.