The Sailing Ship

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, too-ra-loo-ra-li, too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, hush now don't you cry. Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, too-ra-loo-ra-li, too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, that's an Irish lullaby. Over in Killarney, many years ago, my mother sang a song to me in tones so sweet and low. Just a simple little ditty in her good old Irish way. And I'd give the world if she could sing that song to me this day Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, too-ra-loo-ra-li, too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, hush now don't you cry. Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, too-ra-loo-ra-li, too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, that's an Irish lullaby."

After making sure the lad was a sleep, I went up to the main deck where a soft wind blew. The sea was abnormally calm and the moon shone eerily through the mist. Our tattered sails flapped ominously in the wind while the ship creaked and rock; not at all helping with my discomfort of the situation as I pondered how peculiar that night was.

"Captain!? What are you doing here?!" I exclaimed in a voice slightly higher than I wanted. I am Captain Bartholomew Morgan's wife, Mathilda Morgan.

"That's what I should be asking you." Bartholomew said with a grim expression.

"Sir, I'm just getting some air. It's rather suffocating below deck; sir." A look of absolute anger passed over his face.

"Cut the crap Mathilda!" I was shocked that he'd found out so soon. It had been six months since I first come aboard. Of course, the whole crew knew of my femininity. Only the captain was excluded. If Bartholomew found out that I had come aboard without his knowledge. Each sailor who knew, but didn't bother to tell; would be given a lashing. Now that he had found me out, there was no possible way for me to get out of this one without digging my own grave. It was always impossible for me to lie to him for a long time. Mostly, he saw strait through me. "What the hell where you thinking?!"

"Um...... I love you?" I said hesitantly while bringing my voice back to its normal octave.

"Saying 'I love you.' Isn't going to cut it! Do you have any idea how much this pisses me off?!"

"I've got a clue." Bartholomew wasn't listening to me anymore. He was so blind and deaf by his own anger that he couldn't take notice of the crewmen on shift listening in on his ranting. Then again, it was hard to ignore.

"How long have you been on board anyway!?"

"About six months."

"Oh, my God! What the hell Mathilda! Six mouths!"

"Smile?"

Bartholomew sighed saying "What the hell am I going to do with you?"

"Forgive me?" I asked cuddling up to him.

"Yeah, I forgive you."

"Hold?"

"Hold." Bartholomew sighed pulling me in to his arms. We stayed like that in silence for a few minutes before he distantly said, "Not only have you snuck aboard my ship; but you have also lost weight. Here I thought I could stop worrying about you, but it looks like I was wrong."

"Oh? And why's that?"

"You hardly ever think your actions through. But the ones you do think through could wind up taking your life."

Just then, the wind had begun to pick up, the ship started to capsize, Bartholomew was thrown overboard. Despite being a sailor, Bartholomew had never learned to swim. Without thinking I jumped in after him.