After inspecting the broken dishwasher, Sora Gates calls this project child's play when comparing this job to fixing a generator or busted pipelines. He says, "It's just the power box that's busted. No wonder it's been so clean. If it was the actual washer jets, this kitchen would be a cesspool of mold, and we'd be starvin' on precooked meals for the next few weeks."
The girl can't imagine such a disgusting sight. "If what you're saying is right, this job will be quick?" Vuela responds in question.
"Well, quick is relative. If I had the proper battery, it would be simple. But I don't, so this is going to be a makeshift job."
"You make batteries?"
"It's putting an electrical source to currents. Didn't you learn that in school? It's basic science. Very basic."
Vuela's freshman science class is not the most fulfilling experience of her school career. In fact, that's the class that really takes its time because of her classmates' stupidities. Her teacher is too understanding and naïve to go too much in depth when it comes to why science makes the world go round. In fact, this teacher doesn't have her students do projects. It's the easiest A Vuela has ever received, and she hates it.
"Too basic what I've learned. I think I went to a school for the small-minded."
"Want me to teach you how?" Sora offers.
"Yes, please."
Sora searches through his spare parts and pulls out one sheet of aluminum and one sheet of copper. "You see those yellow clips? Take three of them out."
Vuela does that. She recognizes these clips as volt sparkers. She uses these for her sailboard, which help the engines for her takeoffs and boosts. However, it's safe to only use two at a time because of how much power they generate. Too much could cause a burst in the mechanical map. At least that's what it says on the warning labels.
"Why do you need three of these?"
"Watch." Sora takes the clips and puts each one in an interesting place. One at the top, combining the two plates of metal, so that they are side-to-side and touching. Another connects at the bottom, so the sheets don't overlap. The third clip is stuck on the copper sheet. "Copper has a higher conductivity than aluminum. It will handle the electricity, so it doesn't overcharge the machine. And this is your battery."
"Now, all we gotta do is put it in the washer's power box," Vuela replies.
"Yes. First thing's first, we gotta take out the top rack."
Vuela pulls out the rack and pulls out the part since the connection to the inside is magnetic.
Sora's mechanical hand turns into a screwdriver, and it goes in the washer to loosen the panel of the top, which leads to the power supply.
"Are you ever afraid of electrocuting yourself while on the job?" the girl questions.
"I'd only be surprised if I didn't each time," is Sora's response. Once the panel and screws are loose and out, he asks Vuela to hold them until the battery can be put in. He connects them to the other wires and asks for the other parks back. "And that's that."
"Well, we gotta see if the piece of crap works," Vuela warns, putting the rack back into the machine. She closes it back up and the contraption begins to flash.
"Praise the skies, girl!" Sora exclaims. "That light is going."
Vuela bends down and presses the timer, setting it to two minutes, the lowest option. Then, she hits start. The light stops blinking and stays still.
Small engine sounds click in the teens' ears.
"Uh, what does that mean?"
Sora shakes his head. "Beats me."
Not too soon after, they can hear the water swish inside the washer.
"Now, that sounds normal!" Vuela cheerfully squeals.
"And you had doubts about me," Sora teases.
"Not doubts. This was just a test."
"A test?"
"The Captain said you are one of the finest. I wanted to see it for myself."
"So I guess I gained another fan who has a rough side that's her front."
"Don't give yourself too much credit. You still made a bad first impression."
"I said to let that go, sister."
"I'm not your sister. I already have a brother to bother."
The heavy footsteps of Latimore Savage slightly shake the floor as Ms. Savage herself enters the kitchen. "I sensed a disturbance of power down here," she says. "What's happened?"
"Just a repair that took far too long to be notified, Auntie Latimore. The machine is just like new," Sora explains.
"Well, I'll be! I didn't say anything about it."
"I did, Ms. Savage," Vuela confesses. "I just thought we'd take better care of this vessel. The Fidèle's a sturdy old thing who needs some TLC."
The cook raises one of her eyebrows. "Some change of heart, I see. I thought I wouldn't live to see the day."
"Why, Auntie, the old Maiden is still strong. May she stand tall--"
Savage flicks Sora's forehead with her metal finger, causing the boy to wince. "Let me stop you there before you offer me an accidental backhanded compliment." She clears her throat. "Vuela, I was looking for ya. I got another job for you."
Vuela straightens her back.
"I'm finally going to put you to some cooking use. From now on, you're helping me with lunch and dinner."
There's no point in talking back. "Yes, ma'am."
But Vuela's mind is not on food. When Sora calls Savage "the old Maiden," she goes back to the night she watches that strange old man bleed to death. His words of "The Iron Maiden" still haunt her, and Vuela's suspicions return.
Before the cook sends Sora away to go back to work, he invites Vuela to hang out with him later once they're both done with their chores. Vuela gives him an "I'll think about it" type response, and Sora tells her to meet him on the top deck once she's done.
Savage sends Vuela to the backroom, where the produce that needs to be kept at room temperature are stored. Savage requests Vuela to fetch the onions. As Savage cuts them, Vuela is only responsible for peeling the outer shells. The cook wants the vegetables to be minced quickly. Anything that doesn't need much attention will be up to the teenaged girl to do to keep her busy.
The juices that spill out of the onions sting Vuela's eyes. They blurry with tears, which ruins her vision a little as she continues to peel the shells. She can hear Savage sniffle as well, but it's less like a cry and more of a quick sickness sound.
"I'm not a fan of onions either," Vuela says.
Savage lets out a chuckle. "Aye. They're buggers when they're cut. They've given them the nickname, the Tear Bomb, where I come from. They taste wonderful when cooked, but they smell nasty in the cooking process."
"Where do you come from?" the girl curiously asks.
There is a pause between that question and Savage's upcoming response. The silence is uneasy as the cook releases a sigh. "A poor town in the east, child. A town without a name, for no one wishes to know of it. Many things are broken there. Government, money, relationships, and families."
To Vuela, this place sounds more corrupt than the slums, and it sends chills down her spine.
"Growing up, Mom taught that if a man tells you what to do with force, it means he's put his effort and willin'ness to make you a proper housewife."
"Not love?"
"Love. Love is a word that died with the fall of humanity. But somehow, it was reborn when I had my three daughters. I still remember them. Anna. Madeline. And...Hope. They kept me sane every living day of mine. But then...our town had too many daughters. That bastard, my husband, sent my daughters out of our home and out where nothing survives. It was the middle of winter, which we called the Freezing Death. I never saw them again."
With every word Savage produces and every tear that she sheds, the tugs on Vuela's heartstrings get harsher. Soon, her heart can just stop functioning all together.
"Soon as they were gone, all of my joy...vanished...like the breeze in sunlight."
"What did your husband feel?" That's a stupid question to ask, but Vuela can't avoid asking it anyway.
"Nothing. He wanted a son and was willin' to hurt me to get it." Savage's throat pulses as she speaks. "When I refused, he cut off my four limbs and an eye to get me to obey. He had to get me these--" She wiggles her hands and taps her boots. "--to make it look like an accident. That ass made a mistake."
"Which led to your escape?"
"Yeah. The only way to live in those towns is to become a criminal. How people die and live is going against the law. Believe me, many o' women did the same thing as I, and no one bats an eye at it. I could finally start over. Thus, Latimore Savage came to be."
"How often does the past come back to haunt you?"
"All the time, doll face. Never a day when I don't think about my little girls. They never had the chance to live and see what the world could be. I blame myself for letting someone throw them into death."
The "what if"s roll back into Vuela's mind. What if her mom, after giving birth to her, decided to leave Vuela out for dead, without telling her dad anything?
What if Sebastian Hawkins wasn't the man who raised his daughter with care and ordered her hooker mom to get an abortion.
What if her father was more abusive to her and her brother?
What if?
What if?
What if?
"Vuela! Earth to Vuela. Less spacing out, more peeling."
She immediately snaps out of it and continues her assigned task. "Sorry."
"I should be the one apologizin'. My backstory's not the prettiest. Like I said when we first met, not everyone understands."
For a brief moment, Vuela thinks this is the perfect time to ask about why Sora called Savage "the Maiden" from before, but at the same time, she's aware that Savage won't give her a straight answer, especially after some time since Sora brought it up the first time. It's probably better that Vuela doesn't put more salt into the old wound.
"No, Ms. Savage. You have to tell your story. You escaped from being a prisoner of circumstance. You're a hero...in a way."
Ms. Savage chuckles again. "You're interesting, Vuela."
"How so?"
"You're now accepting of a broken nomad such as myself. Even after I tell ya the gory bits, you don't walk away."
"I've done too much walking, I feel," Vuela says, "but not from stories. Not someone else's." She runs from her own enough.
Vuela's finishes all of her chores by the time the moon is high in the sky. Despite her aching bones, she decides to take up on Sora's offer to meet him on the top deck, so that is where she goes. She exits out into the open, but Sora is nowhere to be seen.
"Glad you made it, Achy Bones." Sora dangles his legs over the same wall of the door Vuela exits from, his heels tapping against it. His cocky grin stretches to both ears once she turns to him.
"Alright, what am I out here for?" she groans.
Sora pulls a long and wide hoverboard from behind him. In fact, it's a floating rectangle from what Vuela can see. "I thought I'd take you out on a little trip."
Her eyes widen with joy, yet concern washes over her like a wave. "Is that even allowed?"
"We'll see when the Captain wakes up. Hop in."
"Hold on, Speedy. Is that thing even safe?"
"I rode on this thing hundreds of times."
"With an extra passenger?"
"We don't know until you try."
Vuela takes three steps away. "How am I supposed to trust that?"
"We're not going out and too far away from the boat. We'll be in safe distance if anything happens. Besides, I thought you were a daredevil."
Vuela crunches her fingers into her palms and plants her fists on her hips. "What makes you say that?"
Sora knocks on his long hoverboard. "I saw your reaction when we first met. You thought I was pretty daring back at the port. Now, are you gonna chicken on me, Hawkins?"
Vuela pokes the inside of her cheek with her tongue. "If we die, it's your fault."
"I'll take that." Sora kicks his board into floatation. He gestures Vuela to sit her butt down on the front end while he takes the back.
Hesitantly, she loops her left leg over the board, and she sits on it like she'd sit on an old seesaw. When Sora asks if she's secure, Vuela replies that she is to the best of her ability. When he asks her to back up and says that it'll help, Vuela immediately does so, not getting too close however.
Sora slides his hands on the sides of his board, and it goes flying off the ship.
Vuela reaches for Sora's pants, and her nails dig into them like safety rails.
"Are you scared already?"
"Shut up."
Sora takes the longboard and makes a circle path around the Gloire Fidèle. It's still near the rails of the boat, so that Vuela feels more secure. He questions if she's ready to go a little farther away, and she lets him do that. On the second round around the boat, Sora takes the board higher in height and wider in width around.
"Should we take a different path now?"
Vuela looks down towards the water, and she points and says, "Take me down there."
"Are you sure?"
She gives him one hard nod. "I'm sure.
Sora smiles vastly and tips the hoverboard down to the cutting water. He keeps it at two week above for the soundness of Vuela. She dips the toes of her shoes into the water, and a brush of coolness sweeps into her body. Vuela is light as a feather, and she holds onto the board even more to prevent her from flying into the air. She sniffs the sea air for a few sweet seconds, and it reminds her of the freedom she has longed for. The wind blows her hair into Sora's face, but he can't care any less.
After five minutes of riding along with the current and the Gloire Fidèle, Sora takes the hoverboard back to the top deck, dropping them both back down to solid, sleek ground.
"How was that, Hawkins?"
Vuela stretches her legs as she finds her way back to standing. She sways her body towards Sora. "Maybe we can do it again sometime." Her eyebrows arch. "If you're good that is."
He chuckles. "See, Vuela? I can control a board, too."