She could hear the soft sounds of breathing coming from the adjoining room. It was early, and everyone was still asleep, but Alice was excited to start her new work. At home, she doubted the prospect of cleaning would have made her this happy, but this was a different time and a whole different place.
She filled up an old bucket with seawater and sloshed it onto the deck. It was still dark out, and the crisp air bit at her cheeks and fingertips, but she paid it no mind. The mop heavy in her hands, which were callused from cleaning the clinic, Alice began working in a figure eight, starting with the center and working her way out to the railing, letting the dirty water seep back into the ocean. It was demanding work, but the fresh air roused her spirits, and even though she was still a captive it gave her a taste of the illusion of freedom.
At dawn, she put down the mop, and after empting the bucket flipped it over and sat down. Alice gasped as the first slivers of sunshine peeked out from the horizon, making the water look like glittering mercury. The sun unhurriedly awakened, crawling higher and higher above the waterline, painting the ocean in warm colors, and paining Alice to look at it. Bathed in sunlight, she dared not turn away. When she finally looked away, she had spots in her eyes. It was the first sunrise she had witnessed in weeks.
She took one more breath of the salty air, filling her lungs with it until her chest felt like it was about to burst. Then she picked up the bucket and strolled back to the cabin, just as some of the crew members started to awaken.
Augustus leaned on the railing, looking at her as she strode back to the quarters. She had been so absorbed in her work, and subsequently in the sunrise, that she hadn’t noticed him watching her the entire time.
As he leaned on the wooden railing, his hair gently tousled by the wind, he questioned what possessed him to wake up so early. Truthfully, he did not know why he had gone out there to watch her. He wondered whether it was because of some misguided sense of worry, or his absolute bafflement at her actions, but he did know one thing for sure. The cabin was a quiet place without her, and he did not like it.
It had been a week. Now routine, Alice doused the deck in water and began furiously mopping, hoping to finish a bit before dawn so that she could enjoy the sun’s first rays. Wiping a thin line of sweat from her brow she looked up, searching for the moon in the sky. It was nowhere to be found, most likely hiding behind some clouds.
On the deck small dark specks appeared, slowly growing larger and larger as a drizzle turned into a heavy downpour. Alice was determined to work through the rain, but eventually she couldn’t see her nose in front of her, never mind the wooden boards she was moping.
The wind picked up and started howling, tugging at the sails and making them billow and furl. Lighting snaked its way across the sky, and the ship began kicking like a wild mustang.
The bucket skidded a few feet from Alice, pushed across the deck by a strong gust. Covering her eyes with a sleeve, she battled to get through the rain and grab it. All around her crewman scrambled, manipulating the ropes, trying to get the ship under control. Some of them were still wearing their pajamas, having been recently awoken by the commotion.
Alice trudged to the bucket. Almost there, she thought. Just a couple more steps. To her right she saw a wiry looking man battling with a rope. It was lying at his feet, and suddenly it pulled taut, wrapping around the man’s ankle and throwing him forward. He hit his head, and failing to get up, started to get dragged by the counterweight to the railing of the ship.
The bucket was just an arms reach away now, but Alice was concerned for the man. Mustering up some courage, she abandoned the pail and started making her way to the unconscious man. On her knees, she unwrapped the rope from his leg, and then tried to wake him up with a couple slaps, but to no avail. He was out cold.
Gripping his collar, she dragged him across the deck, and to the mast. He was surprisingly light, and she guessed he weighed not a stone or two more than her. Once she reached the pole, she secured him to it with a length of cord and deliberately made her way back to where he had untied the sail. It was dancing wildly, and it took her a few tries to grab a hold of the rope.
Once she did it escaped her twice, burning her hands and reopening the new blisters she had developed. On the third try she caught it, and using the knots she had practiced with her grandfather, secured it.
By then, the storm had calmed, and the rain returned to a small drizzle. Just as quickly as it had started the tempest had passed. The sun shone brightly, whisking the moisture from the deck and warming the backs of the crewmembers. Alice sat down, breathing heavily, disappointed at the loss of her bucket which was nowhere in sight.
The Captain strutted toward her, wearing loose-fitting black pants and a white shirt with an open collar. It had all about dried, although she could still make out the faint outlines of his chest muscles. His dark hair was unkempt, and his eyes tired, but he still managed to look regal. He looked at Alice’s handiwork, a corner of his mouth twitching up in a tired smile. “It looks like you know your way around a ship after all,” he said, not masking the surprise in his voice. “Very well then, I guess you may help with the manual labor.” He paused, then with an irksome grin added, “Although I think you will have a new patient to care for first,” he said, motioning to the man tied to the mast who was, thankfully, still breathing.
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