I'm standin' on a long pier next to Ro, wearin' black pants and a sturdy short sleeve blue shirt—the sensible kind of outfit a proper farmer would wear to work her prosperous Regions farm. Ro holds my arm, upright and stiff, wearin' similar garb procured fer us by Gina in a town fifty miles east of here. We need to look like we belong on that big tall ship at the end of the dock. I know exactly nothin' about boats, but Ro grew up in the capital, just up the hill from a port. He tells me the ship's a barquentine with three masts. The foremast is square-rigged, while the main and mizzen masts are fore-and-aft rigged. Whatever that all means. Honestly, I don't rightly care what kind of boat it is or which way its sails face as long as it gits me to that island.
It's a good ship fer makin' runs up and down the coast but evidently it cain handle a journey far out into the ocean as well. Ro takes it on faith that it's sea worthy, like it's a given that it cain keep us afloat and ain't no reason to doubt it. I shift on my feet, thinkin' about being' trapped on that thing fer weeks on end with nothin' but blue 'round me. My whole life I've wanted to be somewhere with an abundance of water. Guess I'm gittin' my wish and then some.
Ro squeezes my hand. Despite my protests, he's given me his medallion, the one only proper folks in the Regions is supposed to wear. I know without him havin' to say it that he'd do anything to git me on that boat, git me away from the danger he feels he's put me in. So we only got one medallion 'tween us, only one trinket provin' one person's Regions status, and Ro is determined it be me who puts it on display. Ain't no use arguing with him.
The line moves like it cain't grasp the concept that that's what lines is supposed to do. Looks like way more than the hundred-fifty people they're acceptin' as New Pioneers has shown up. Other folks ahead of us is turned away. We could be turned away. This could all still come to nothin'.
There's plenty of lawfolk here, too, which don't help my blood pressure none. It's probably standard, but I fear they're lookin' fer us. The half-covered flier in the boarding house bearin' Ro's likeness blows through my mind like dust across the plains. I bite my lip and give Ro another once over. He's wearin' a wide brimmed hat and his beard is all grown out again, fuller than it's ever been, he claims. After months on the run, he's got harsher angles and a knowin' look in his eyes that don't reflect much upon that picture of him plastered all about town. Still, someone could surely recognize him. It ain't beyond reason'.
Slowly, we move up the line. Beads of sweat collect at the edge of my collar. "Come on, Nessie." I pull gently on her lead. Hopeful trails willingly in her shadow. It's a mighty consolation that I ain't gotta leave my Nessie behind, and gods willin', she'll live out the rest of her days without fearin' the bottom of a fryin' pan. She's all I have remainin' of the farm, my home fer the first nineteen years of my life. Even Frank's been left behind. Ain't no guns allowed in the Regions; gittin' caught with one would surely give us away. Vern's got Frank now. He'll give him a good home, no doubtin' that. But I cain't bear to think of Frank, tried and true friend of one May June Stebbins, bein' gone from my life, not when I gotta focus on my actin' skills. Cuz finally, we're up next.
We're questioned by some kind of official. She introduces herself as Ms. Portia. "And this is Captain Beatty." She points to an older man with a neatly trimmed mustache standin' behind her. He gives us a slight nod as Ms. Portia keeps talkin'. "We'll determine if you are eligible to become New Pioneers. If you are, you'll board immediately and be shown to your quarters."
"And if we're not eligible?" Ro tries to keep his words steady.
When she smiles, her lips practically disappear. "You needn't worry about that unless it's necessary. Your names please?"
We feed her the identities we've created fer ourselves. We're Christopher and April Stevens, newly married. I'm from a farmin' family in the Eastern Region. My husband's family owned a store in the nearest village. My family wanted me to wed another farmer but instead, I married Christopher here, and to avoid all of our parents' disapproval, we've decided to create a life together as New Pioneers. I do just as much talking as Ro, and if Ms. Portia thinks I ain't a genuine Regions lady, she don't show it.
"You have no farming skills?" Ms. Portia looks at Ro doubtfully. It's probably just me being paranoid, but she's starin' right at the part of Ro's chest where his medallion should be. Course he's got his vest buttoned up high, and ain't no way to tell his neck's bare under it, but I still cain't shake the feeling she's noted its absence. I wipe sweat on my pants, keep my smile loose like gittin' on this ship ain't the biggest deal of my life. Ms. Portia's eyes narrow. "Where did you say you were from again?"
Ro goes on about how much farmin' I've already taught him, which would be funny if our future didn't depend on him bein' believable. He tries to play on her emotions, talkin' 'bout how far we've traveled to git here. The Captain stares intently at Ro. Is he addin' things up? And if he is, is that a good thing?
Meanwhile, Ms. Portia has taken a dislikin' to us that ain't so subtle. She raises a hand like she's wavin' someone over. I clench my fists, fight the urge to turn around so I cain see who she's called. It's lawfolk. Gotta be. They're on to us, dang it! "We'd really prefer both parties to be experienced farmers, so I'm not-"
"May I please have a word with the Captain?" She don't take kindly to my interruption, but I ain't got much choice. "So sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but I believe my cousin's wife's father served with him years ago. Captain!" I call to him. "Do you remember someone named Lincoln Blakely?"
The Captain takes his hat off and scratches his head. No way cain he remember Lincoln Blakely since I just made him up myself. "I'm not sure that I-"
"He said to give you this." I offer him Tegan's paper. After a moment's pause, he takes it.
Ro holds his breath next to me, and Ms. Portia smiles her thin-as-a-shriveled-up-goat's-udder smile. Ain't no way she wants us on that boat. I count seven lawfolk within twenty feet of us and start calculatin' escape strategies. The person she called over a moment ago finally arrives at her side and she exchanges words with him. He ain't dressed like the other lawfolk, but that don't necessarily mean nothing'. Both of 'em cease their wisperin' so they cain gape at Ro. I ain't likin' where this is goin'.
Ro grasps me around the shoulders as we wait fer 'em to determine our fate. He rubs my arm and I cain't quite tell if it's to calm me or to keep himself from losin' it. If there was any more tension in the air, it'd be thicker than the dust storm that took out Callen.
Captain Beatty clears his throat, unfolds the paper and then folds it up again. "Lincoln Blakely." He shoves the paper into his coat pocket. "Of course, I remember him now. A fine man. How is... Matilda isn't it?"
"Why, she's wonderful! She and my cousin just had their third last winter. A girl this time." I widen my smile, make sure I'm lookin' pleased as punch at this exchange, and in truth, I am pleased. The Captain's playin' along. He don't have to do that, but he is.
He turns to Ms. Portia. "Mr. and Mrs. Stevens will be joining me on the Margarethe. Pass them through, Melanie."
Her face sours and she exchanges another look with her friend. Finally, that friend shrugs and takes a step back. He must be holdin' to the wise opinion that the Captain's word is final. Melanie Portia on the other hand, ain't gonna quit. "But, Captain, we have more candidates than we expected—well over three hundred. The Stevens simply aren't the best pioneers for this colony. Besides that, he-"
"Come along you two." Captain Beatty ignores her and motions us forward. Ms. Portia yammers on but I ain't focused on her no more cuz my brave, bold Ro just stuck out his hand for the Captain to shake. Beatty accepts it and holds it in his own fer a long while.
"Welcome aboard."
A/N: The Captain approved them! May and Ro are officially New Pioneers. Can you believe it? We have only two more chapters remaining, and I'm curious to know what you think is going to happen. Any guesses?
Votes for this chapter go towards the anti-seasickness medicine I have a feeling May is going to be needing on that ship! May and her never-been-on-a-boat-before stomach thank you kindly.
Today's dedication is for one of my very favorite readers, HelenGraul. Helen is so encouraging to so many authors here on Wattpad. Having her as a reader makes me so very happy. :)