Volatile (adjective): liable to change rapidly and unpredictably, especially for the worse.
I don’t leave my room the next day. I don’t want to see Henry, I don’t want to have to look at him, or have him look at me, I don’t want anything that comes with knowing him.
I can’t believe he told me he loved me only to tell me that he couldn’t possibly allow himself to do such a thing. Am I that much of a mistake? I lay in my bed and stare at the ceiling.
There is a knock at my door.
“I have the plague.” I say. The door opens anyway and it’s Jamison.
“Hello.” He says while walking into my room without asking.
“What?” I ask him.
“Henry’s been extremely volatile today…” Jamison tells me.
“So?” I ask.
“He’s usually pretty mild…” Jamison observes.
“People have bad days.” I tell him.
“So you would have no idea why he’s so angry?” He asks.
“No, and even if I did know I would bet that he’s angry and it’s his own fault.” I turn over in my bed, trying to signal that the conversation is over.
“Right, of course.” Jamison agrees with me, but it almost sounds patronizing. “Well, if you want to know, Henry told me what he said to you last night, so you don’t have to lie.”
Now I sit up. “Who does he think he is?” I ask Jamison, my voice raised, I’m not yelling, but my tone has taken on a more authoritative and aggressive pitch. “Running around and professing his love only to say that I’m not worth dropping his scumbag reputation?!” And now I’m screaming, sounding much more aggressive, and I’m sure that everyone outside can hear me. I don’t care.
“You have to understand that the mask he wears is his only security.” Jamison tells me.
I stand up, “Well he didn’t seem to care about masks when he ripped the one I was wearing off the first day I met him.” I walk toward the door.
“Woah, Madelyn, wait a minute,” Jamison tries to stop me from walking out the door but I brush past him. In a way I’m glad that I fell asleep in regular clothes last night so I don’t have to worry about getting dressed.
I open the door and I see everyone falter, and then go back to work. They were listening while pretending not to. All except Henry, he stands perfectly still, looking at me.
“Screw you!” I scream at him.
And then Henry does what he always does when I begin screaming, he lets me take everything out on him, not trying to offer excuses, or fight back.
“I hate you!” I yell. “You have ruined my life!” I grab a potato out of a sack and throw it overboard. “I wish I never met you, I wish I never came on this ship, I wish that I never heard your name!” I pause, unsure of what to do next in my rage. “You make me so angry!”
“Done?” Henry asks, but not in a sarcastic belittling tone, just in a matter of fact wanting to know kind of way.
“No!” I shriek, and I hate how uneven my voice sounds. However, I am quiet after that, and I look down at my hands, which are shaking. I sniffle, and I tell myself that this anger will not dissipate into tears. “I hate you.” I tell him again.
“I could never blame you.” He says softly.
I stand looking at him, and I can tell that he knows I want to cry. I hate that he knows that. I try to steady my breathing, and stop my heart from beating out of my chest. I try to control my trembling hands.
“How could you?” I ask him. How could he make me fall in love with him? How could he cultivate such an emotion just to cut it down to nothing? How could I let myself fall in love?
I’ve fallen in love.
“It was an accident, it really was.” He tells me, and I know that he understood my question perfectly, which only hurts worse, because how could someone who understands you so well reject you so harshly?
I bite my bottom lip to keep it from trembling. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” I tell him and I turn around walking back to my room.
“Madelyn,” He calls out to me, but he stops himself sort of following me, because we both know it would just end in more screaming.
Once I’m locked away, in my bed under four blankets, I allow myself to cry. It’s the awful crying that hurts your throat and causes your breathing to become so jagged that it almost feels like you can’t breathe at all. I cry myself to sleep.
***
Bradley ventures in to talk to me the next day. “We’re going to be docking tomorrow.” He tells me, “It’s only for supplies and we’re leaving at the end of the next day. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go out walk around, get a change of scenery.” He tells me. “I mean, I guess you get off the ship and never come back, but the town’s about as boring as its name.”
I lay my head on the pillow, “I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“He’s very unhappy, if that’s a comfort to you.”
“It’s not.” I tell him, even though it is.
“Can I ask you something?” Bradley says.
“You just did.” I tell him.
He sighs and rolls his eyes. “How are you feeling? We’re wondering, especially with how yesterday went.”
“Dead flowers.” I tell him.
“What?” He asks.
“I feel like dead flowers.”
He is quiet for a moment. “That’s an odd sort of emotion.” He says, his voice soft.
“And?”
“It’s just…” He pauses, “It’s very specific.”
I am quiet now, waiting for him to leave.
“You know, if you want to talk –”
“I don’t.” I silence him.
“Alright then.” He says, and walks out of my room, closing the door quietly behind him.
I sigh, and stare at the ceiling.
***
I do end up getting off the ship, I didn’t think I was going to but here I am, stepping off the ship onto dry land and taking a deep breath.
“Who’s that?” I hear a man ask Henry and by the way he’s looking at me I know that it’s because he wants to know if I’m available.
“You can’t handle her, trust me.” Henry tells him.
“Women are my forte as much as they are yours, mate.” The man says to Henry smiling.
“Trust me on this. You’re not getting anywhere with her, and if you did, you wouldn’t be able to handle to consequences.” Henry tells him and starts walking away from him. The guy gives me a lingering look and then follows Henry.
I sit on a bench near the water and watch the waves roll and crash against the wood of the pier. I sit mesmerized, and I don’t move until Jamison comes and gets me long after night has fallen.
“Dinner, Madelyn.” He says.
“Oh.” I say and stand to follow him. If I act like I’m fine than I will be.
Dinner is with the crew, Henry, the man who was asking about me, and a half a dozen pretty women around my age or younger. I don’t have to guess who they’re here for. I set my jaw. I am fine, and I am unaffected by all of this. Or so I tell myself.
I watch as they sit around him and laugh, and I watch as he plays along with their games.
“What’s your name, gorgeous?” The guy asks, startling me.
I flick my eyes up to him, and I don’t really want to talk to him. “Elizabeth.” I say as closed off as I possibly can, I give him my fake name because I feel like he doesn’t deserve to know my actual name.
“Smile, life’s not that bad, honey.” He tells me while putting on a smile himself.
I push my lips together like I would when making an ‘m’ sound and then purse them while shaking my head, I let out a sigh. “Please go away.”
“Awwh, sweetheart…” He says and looks at me sympathetically.
I shift in my seat and I know Henry is watching this whole situation closely. “I did not tell you my name to have you call me something else.” I tell him. “And for the record, I am not interested in you. I will not be interested in you, and I could split you from naval to nose.” I smile at him now, but it’s predatory, “And no, sweetheart, that’s not a threat to make me seem cuter, it’s a promise. And I’m a woman of my word, so try me, honey, I dare you.”
I see his smile falter and then drop. I look up at him, doe eyed, “You should have listened to your womanizing friend, sweetie, you can’t handle me.” I simper out the last words because I’m bitter.
He moves away from me and I sit back in my chair. Henry’s flirting now and I want to harm him.
“Madelyn?” Bradley says his voice low, and he sounds concerned.
“No.” I say sharply, and he leaves me alone.