The Fastest Ship on the Ocean,
It Leaves Destruction In Its Wake
THE UNEVEN pavement which leads up to my new house is the least of my worries. Even though I've tripped on one of the cement blocks at least three times now, causing my box full of my favorite books to spill over the sandy walkway and into the prickly plants. Shaking the remnants of sand out off my Shakespeare book, I stacked it back into the box before glancing up to my new home.
It was a rickety house with peeling carolina blue paint and more uneven steps with nails sticking out hazardly. The windows had sea breeze grim on it and I watched as my mom attempts to open one of the windows which seem to be really stuck. The hot North Carolina sun beats down on me as I attempt not the trip up the steps to the house. Using my leg I managed to swing the screen door open and step inside, but as the door closed, it closed on my leg and it scraped against me. Grimacing, I continued the journey to my room, past the kitchen that has a weird fishy smell and into the back of the house, where a single twin bed sat, a worn dresser and bedside table. I dumped the box next to the heap of the other boxes and return outside for more.
The biggest worry is the beast which is outside of the house. The Ocean. It runs straight to the beach which is basically my new backyard. It waits and laps at the sandy shore waiting to take someone down with it. Ever since my father drowned out in sea, my mom and I moved away from the monster, trying to free us of the memories. I don't know why, but my mom choose to move back after seven years in Northern Virginia, out of the grasp of the Ocean.
"Cordelia!" my mom's voice trailed with the wind as I begin to open the car door, "Come and help me with this window!"
I cringed at the sound of my full name, because it reminds me that I have no friends yet. All my friends call me Lia, but since I moved away I've been hearing more Cordelia than Lia. Sighing, I drop the last box in my front seat before scurrying up to the house. My mom had clipped back her short raven black hair and was still struggling with the same window.
"I think this a battle that won't be won," I said, watching her heave at the window again.
"Where is the fun in quitting if you haven't tried?" she smiled at me, but I could see the stress of moving and being so close to the Ocean in her crystal blue eyes.
"Is there anything else in the car, besides my writing box?" I asked, motioning towards at car.
"There is one thing in the back of the trunk, that I think you'd like," she said and winked at me.
A surge of excitement shoots out of my heart and my flip flops slap against the ground as I dash to the car. I open the trunk to reveal an Amazon box. Squealing, I opened it using my new house keys and I revealed a book. I thought my mom canceled all of my book orders, but she saved this one, Romeo and Juliet. Pressing the book against my chest, the day seemed to get a little bit brighter. My last copy of Shakespeare's famous play, accidently fell into a mud puddle instead of my outstretched hands. Catching is not one of my best skills.
A gust of ocean breeze whips down the street, causing my wavy golden blonde hair to jump around me. The street is silent, except for a floating voice, which murmured against the sky. This is what I get for moving too close to the monster.
Acting like a scared 5 year old, I raced back into the house, clutching Romeo and Juliet close. My mom was oblivious from the drifting voice and I convinced myself that I just made it up. I'm seventeen, I shouldn't believe in fairy tales and monsters. I moved some boxes off of the dining room table which has a window that overlooks the Ocean. Hastily, I jump up and closed the blinds over the endless stretch of blue. Not today.
My mom padded into the dinning room, "What do you think about take out?"
"I don't really see us having another option," I said, flipping through my new book. My favorite smell in the whole world is the smell of a new book. It calms down my still shaken heart.
"Well, then you win the award to go and search for some local cuisine!" My mom said, dropping a wad of bills on the table.
"Wait, really?" I asked, glancing up from the book. I'm not very adventurous, I would rather be cuddled up with a favorite book than trampling around in a new town.
"Yeah, why not?" My mom is the opposite, she isn't afraid to start a conversation with anyone, "You can meet some of the local kids, make some friends. School starts in three months, get ahead of the game!"
I know that there was no use fighting her, when she gets an idea in her head - there is no stopping her. Grumbling, I snatched the money up, "I'll go after I unpack some."
I pad down the hall to my room and collapse onto the bed. The springs squeal in protest against the sudden weight, but I rolled over ignoring the sounds. The last thing I want to do it wander around some new town looking for food.
Glancing up, I gazed at the boring beige boxes that clutter my new room. All look haunting and uninviting, another thing that I don't want to do. Dramatically, I lay my arm across my forehead and groaned. Instead of drowning in the misery of the situation, I popped up and began to unpack my clothes into the dresser. I don't have many clothes, since we had to donate a lot of them before moving so it moved pretty quickly. My black T-shirt which I am currently wearing, is not the most attractive shirt. My gaze shifted to a pretty top that hugged my body showing how skinny I was. I held it up, deciding if I should change or not. Eh, I thought, it's not like there is anyone to impress in town. I tossed the shirt into the drawer. Along with catching not being my ideal talent, throwing isn't either. Instead of gracefully flinging it into the drawer, I managed to hit my smoothie that I left on the bedside table which toppled down and splatter all over my jean shorts and down my legs.
Murmuring a few selected curse words, I rushed to the bathroom and wiped down my legs of the sticky smoothie. These were my one good pair of shorts and I stripped down of them and annoyingly took out my worn dark blue skinny jeans and pulled them on. I really need to get more clothes. Since the smoothie made my flip flops sticky, I pulled on socks and my high top black converse. Now, I really look like an outsider now by not dressing for the hot outdoors.
"Cordelia!" my mom called, "The last owner left bikes by the side of the house! Take one with you!"
I grabbed the pile of cash and Romeo and Juliet and walked into the main room. My mom gave me a look over and handed me my favorite baseball hat. It was the hat that my father gave to me only a month before his drowning. He even signed it on the inside of it. The hat was once a blue jean hat, but it has been worn out and most of the color fading into a pale blue.
"You left it in the car," she said quietly as we both gazed down at the hat.
"Thanks," I smiled, "I love you."
"I love you too, my favorite daughter," she smiled, "You know why we named you right?"
"Yeah, you guys loved Shakespeare," remembering all the times she has told me, "Cordelia is the daughter of King Lear."
"And she was his favorite daughter, just like you," she said.
"Well, you only had one daughter," I pointed out as I pull up my hair into a ponytail. I pull my hair through the loop in the back as I open the door.
"Make sure you pick something good!" my mom called after me.
I walked to the other side of the house and found two bikes: one yellow like the burning sun and the other a crystal blue like the sea. I could see the lapping waves in the bike's color, growing closer and closer like a reaching hand. Quickly, I grabbed the yellow one and pedaled away from the images. You shouldn't be afraid of the color of the Ocean. Get yourself together, Lia.
I rode down the sidewalk, skittering away from uneven spots on the sidewalk and almost wiped out as this little kid ran out for this ball. It wasn't a long ride until I reached a boardwalk. It was the first time I have looked at the Ocean in years and I suppressed my flight response. Deep breaths. It's just water. The ocean breeze kicked up as seagulls called to each other. It was exactly the same as I remembered. I coasted down to the end of the boardwalk and the smell of seafood wafted from the pier. Gently, I lean the bike beside the side of the closest building, hoping that no one would steal it.
I push my hat further down on my head, blocking the sun rays. I silently wished for a pair of sunglasses as I looked down the boardwalk. There were few people meandering down the walk, perfect. Tucking Romeo and Juliet into my back pocket, I bravely took a step onto the pier. Images of me falling through the wood and down towards the monster flooded my system, but I bit my lip and continued forward. Nothing happened. Keep cool, Lia. Taking deep breaths, I continued down the pier and spotted a touristy kiosk where there was a rack of sunglasses. Quickly, I look through the cash and determined I had enough for a cheap pair of gold aviators. I always seem to break my sunglasses quickly, since I had a large head and they always snap when I push them on top of my head. I slid on the sunglasses and the world dimmed a bit. I can do this. I purchased them and continued down towards the seafood hut.
Someone brushed up against my arm and I leapt away from them. When I looked back to see who did it, there was no one. You're just paranoid again, I continued down as an old man pulled out a saxophone and played some blues. I have always loved live music, so I tossed my change of the sunglasses into his cup.
Reaching the seafood shack, I order two cups of freshly caught shrimp and two lemonades. No one was else was in the shack and I asked if the boardwalk was popular.
"During the Spring, Fall and Winter it's more popular," the older man said handing me back change and my lemonades, "In the Summer it's pretty empty."
"How come?" I ask as he handed me the shrimp cups.
He looked me over, "Do you have any brothers?"
I shook my head, what does that have to with anything?
"Do you have both of your parents?" he asked.
"Just my mom," I answered suspiciously, but he looked relieved, "Then you're fine. Nothing to worry about."
Well, that was helpful. I grabbed my food and walked by the old man with the saxophone and back toward the safety of land. A gust of ocean breeze swept down the boardwalk and the windows rattled. Another voice drifted off of the waves of the Ocean like before and I stopped.
An eerie feeling crept over me and I realized that the saxophone stopped. I spun around towards where the old man was. He was gone. I am alone on the dock. Oh God, oh God. My heartbeat pounded in my ears and adrenaline coursed through me. My body screamed for me to run, but I couldn't. I was rooted to the spot with my heart in my throat.
"You should've run when you could," a cruel voice said from behind me as my blood froze. Before I could make a move, a bag went over my head. I let out a hoarse scream, before I was knocked in the back of the head. I crumbled to my knees and then another hit and the darkness consumed me.
〰〰〰
IT WAS dark when I woke. I was gently being rocked side to side like the movements of the sea. I tried to sit up, but I smacked my head against a hard wooden beam. Oh God. I squinted in the darkness and I realized that I'm sitting in a hammock. I look around and about a couple dozen more hammocks were swinging peacefully with people in them. I got to be dreaming. Shutting my eyes, I prayed to just wake up.
Before I could move anymore, footsteps moved towards where I was lying. I kept my eyes firmly closed and scarcely breathed. The footsteps stopped and a calm voice spoke by my ear, "Don't open your eyes."
I obeyed, "Tuck your hair away into your hat. Don't tell anyone your real name or gender. Do what I say and you won't get hurt."
The footsteps moved away and I let out a breath. I braided my hair and wrapped it up in my hat which I pulled down all the way to my ears. This must be a dream.
〰〰〰
"GET UP you lazy bums!"
Someone walked by and flipped my hammock and I fell smack against the hardwood floor. The groggy feeling washed over me as I struggled to remember where I was. Then it came rushing back and the feeling of dread trickled through - this is not a dream.
I struggled to my feet as I watch people begin to run up a stairwell. I make sure my hair was fully tucked and raced up after them.
"C'mon, get into a line, quickly now!" a gruff voice shouted at us as I numbly followed.
I followed the rest of the people up and out onto a ship's deck. It was a large ship, with tall masts reaching the bright blue sky as puffy white clouds meandered across. Seagulls called to each other as a great whiff of the sea came blowing by. My heart pounded, hoping that we were still at dock and I can just slip away. But to my dismay, a long stretch of water reached the horizon. My worst nightmare came true.
"Move! In a line!" a short man with a grimace came shouting at us from earlier. He wore a red bandana which covered most of his greasy gray hair which fell down to his shoulders. He smelled like old fish and I suppressed an urge to gag as I fell in line with the rest of the people.
He eyed us one by one and said, "All right, boys! You guys have been chosen to sail the seas with us. Y'all on our turf now, my rules. If any of you, idiots, have complaints say them now or forever hold your silence."
He ended up standing in front of me and sprayed his words onto my face. I cringed away from his terrible breath. Yeah, I got a complaint.
"We weren't picked, we were captured!" cried a boy a couple to my left, "You can't just kidnap us!"
"Who's stopping us?" fish breath smiled at the boy, showing his yellow teeth.
The boy struggled to find an answer, but fish breath whistled and a six and a half foot man came over. In one motion, he picked up the boy and threw him overboard. The boy let out a scream before there was a splash against the sea. I shut my mouth.
"If you complain, you're thrown overboard. If you refuse to work, you're thrown overboard. If you attempt escape, you're thrown overboard. If you talk back, you're thrown overboard. If you jump overboard," he paused as his tiny brain thought hard about what would happen, "we'll fish you out and throw you overboard. If I don't like you," he gave another pause looking at us in the eye, "you're thrown overboard. Questions?"
A boy, who looked only a year older than me, made a leap for the side and tumbled into the waves. Fish breath frowned before barking, "Now line up by age! Quickly now!"
We quickly assembled into a line as boys shoved each other. Are there any girls here? I didn't dare to ask, since fish breath didn't look like a particular good person to ask these questions.
"How are old are you?" a much taller boy asked me.
"Seventeen," I responded and he gave me a look.
He didn't mention anything and just walked around me. What did I do wrong? We shuffled around until fish breath thought we were good enough.
"How old are you, lad?" fish breath said looking down to a small boy.
"Eight," the boy mumbled.
"Sir!" fish breath barked.
The boy looked confused and fish breath snapped, "Call me 'sir' or else!"
"Yes, sir!" the boy grimaced.
"Name?" fish breath asked looking up and down the boy.
"Edward," he quickly added, "sir."
Fish breath sniffed and moved down the line. There are eight year olds being taken, this cannot be happening. My earlier conclusion was correct as fish breath continued down the line, there weren't any girls. Am I supposed to be here?
"Age?" fish breath approached me and I hid my gag from his stench.
"Seventeen," I sputtered and he gave me a look that the other boy earlier shared. What am I doing wrong?
"Sir," I added in a deeper tone of voice and he shrugged.
"Name?" my heart pounded in my ears. Don't tell anyone your real name or gender. I tucked my hands into my back pocket out of a nervous habit and my hands brushed up against Romeo and Juliet.
"Are you deaf? I asked you a question!" fish breath made a face.
"Romeo," I rushed, "My name is Romeo, sir."
He gave me a funny look. Is he going to buy it?
"Romeo," a voice said a couple people down, "Like from Shakespeare?"
The voice was attached a boy who looked about the same age with curly brown hair which laid longer on his forehead and shorter by his neck. He had a crooked nose and high sharp cheekbones which gave his face an angular look. The boy was tall and lanky with leather bracelets on his right arm. Sneakers matched the age of his bracelets both frayed and worn out. Long fingers held a case which he pushed back behind his leg as fish breath slowly moved his eyes over to his. This boy seemed like he has been on open sea before from his skin being slightly tanned and his deep dark brown eyes unafraid of the monster that lurked only feet below.
"And who are you?" fish breath sneered, glaring at him.
"Flake," he said and there was something with his voice. A slight accent?
"All these names are getting worse and worse," fish breath groaned.
"What's your name?" Flake asked and I couldn't suppress a shudder, he is treading on dangerous waters.
Fish breath grimaced, "Agnus."
Flake's eyes lit up in laughter, but he held it down. He considered saying something else, but he kept his mouth shut. He knows where the line is drawn.
"Anything to say, Flake?" Agnus spit his name.
"None, sir," Flake bit his lip.
"Okay, age?" Agnus continued his interrogation.
"Seventeen," he responded.
Agnus looked him up and down again and continued down. Tension in my shoulders were still taut as he continued down the line. Can I really get away by being a boy? I did a quick glance down at myself and I silently bless my small chest and clothing choice. Agnus finished going down the line before shouting at us, his spit spraying, "All right, boys! This has been one of the worse lots I have seen! But we have to make do with what we have. You are all under the sails of the Pirate King and I am your overseer. Now, every morning at daybreak, I expect to see you on board ready to work. Only after an hour of good work you are allowed to eat breakfast! No sooner! Now assignments!"
He whistled and a grimy boy came running across the deck, handing Agnus a bunch of soiled papers, "If you're under ten, go down to the cook. From eleven to seventeen - swab the deck! Eighteen and older, come with me."
With that there was a hurried motion as boys went running in all directions, hastily following Agnus' orders. I was knocked over by one of the older boys and I hit the deck. A foot came dangerously close to my face and nearly yanked off my hat. Firmly I secure my hands around the rim and held it close.
"You okay?" Flake said from above me, cocking his head to one side like a lost dog.
"Yeah," I said gruffly, standing back up.
He handed me a wet sponge, "You're Romeo, right?"
Flake held out his other hand and I hesitated before taking it, "Yeah and you're Flake?"
He grinned, before tucking his case behind some barrels on deck. Before I could ask, the man who threw the boy overboard, pushed me to the ground. He let out a deep laugh which echoed in his throat, "Get working, scum!"
My fingers trembled as I begun to scrap the years of dirt and grime on the wooden deck. The man sneered, "Put your back into it! You're scrubbing like a girl!"
I bit back a retort of how strong girls are, but I felt that would be the wrong answer. Flake fell down beside me, putting his elbows into it and I copied him. We worked in silence as the giant man lumbered away.
"Could this place be more cheerful?" Flake snorted and I shared a smile with him.
"I'm just waiting to wake up from this horrible nightmare," I said half-heartedly.
"I'm sorry, Shakespeare, but I'm afraid this is real life," he answered and I grimaced.
"How did you get on this joy ride?" I asked, pushing hard against a particular green spot.
"My father sold me," I stared at him, in disbelief, "it tends to happen in my family. My brother was sold to the Lord of Waters and me to the Pirate King."
"To whom?" I asked, stunned.
"To me," a deep voice answered above me and there before looming in a giant shadow was the Pirate King.