“Shh, shh.” She holds me tighter. “You’re both safe, that’s all that matters. Just go get the tablets now and bring them here.”
“I can’t. I’m going to be late for work.” I pry myself from her embrace and force myself to stand.
“You’re right. That’s smart. We don’t need anymore problems right now.” She squeezes my hand as she pulls herself up. “Okay, bring them tomorrow so we can be done with this.”
*
Placing one foot after the other, I walk away from Meghan’s house in a trance. It feels like everyone’s eyes are on me. The whole city is watching now.
You’re just being paranoid, I tell myself. One foot after the other.
The spinners’ melody calls to me as I get closer. The soothing sounds caress my skin and fold me into the blanket of uniformity. Lena is already hard at work when I take my place beside her. Margaret gives me a reassuring smile as if to say all my troubles are over.
“What took you so long?” Lena asks leaning against my back.
“I slipped off the wharf,” I whisper trying unsuccessfully to keep the emotion from my voice. “I was holding Zander.”
Lena gasps as she drops the plastic and turns to face me. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.” My voice cracks. “I feel so stupid.”
“Is Zander okay?” She wipes a tear away from my cheek.
“He’s fine.” The words rush from my mouth and I sigh in relief once they are spoken aloud. “He’s safe at home now.”
“Praise the gods.” She wraps her arms around me. “It was just an accident. It’s not your fault. You’re pretty beaten up about this right now, aren’t you?”
I nod against her bony shoulder. She understands me even when I don’t.
“It’s going to be alright.” She lifts my chin and her deep black eyes stare into my soul willing me to accept this truth.
“Okay.” I force a smile. “It was a little nerve racking.”
“Of course it was.” She playfully pinches the tip of my nose. “But you’re alright and he is too. Don’t worry about it anymore.”
“I’ll try not to.” A low bubble of laughter builds inside of my chest, but she turns back to her work before she can see the nervous humor reach my eyes. “I still can’t believe I tripped like that.”
“Me either,” Lena says in disbelief. “You’re always so surefooted.”
*
The day drags on as we get caught up in the spinners’ songs and work the strips of plastic around our fingers. Three twists and a knot. Over and over until I forget to think.
“Hey now.” Lena suddenly nudges me with her elbow. “I swear on my life that one is new.”
“What one?” It takes me a moment to register what she says.
“There, silly.” She points at the wharf. A watchman stands on the planks staring at us. The sun reflects off his blond hair and his chiseled chin casts a large shadow on his broad chest. He stands relaxed, but the uniform accentuates his muscular lines. I unconsciously lick my lips.
“Yes. He is definitely new,” I agree.
“They just got here, right?” She flips her hair over her shoulder and it brushes against my arm. “Six months should be enough time for me to get to know him.”
My jaw drops at the boldness in her statement. “But what about Tordon?” I awkwardly stammer out.
“What about him?” Her back muscles flex and I know she is pushing out her chest as she gives the watchman a delicate wave. His gaze intensifies on the two of us.
“I thought you two were connecting,” I say as I lower my eyes.
“Oh that.” Lena shrugs behind me. “Maybe someday it’ll be something more, but for now I want to have fun.”
*
The watchman’s stare never falters. I don’t have to look to know this. Lena giddily brings it up throughout the rest of the shift. When the sun sets and our work is packed away, she climbs gracefully up the rocks as I awkwardly stumble to catch up. I try to pull her back before she gets there but I’m not fast enough.
“What are you looking for?” Lena asks him. Her sultry tone floats on the evening breeze toward me.
“Just keeping an eye on things.” His voice is heavy and deep. I hesitate before stepping on the wharf beside them. There is something dark in his words. He turns his head slightly to look me up and down. My arms wrap protectively across my chest.
“I wouldn’t want any of you ladies to get hurt,” he says.
“That won’t happen.” Lena winks as she laces her arm through mine. “Not with a watchman like you around.”
*
When we are deep into the city and away from prying eyes, I pull my arm away from her.
“Why did you tease him like that?” I ask.
Lena shrugs and laughs. “It’s too much fun. They act so powerful and mysterious, but they are only men. They’re no better than whatever crappy city they come from. It’s fun to play with them.”
I chew on her words for a moment before asking, “Why would you want to get involved with one when they rotate every few months? You’ll probably never see him again.”
“But that’s the best part.” She grabs my arm and twirls herself around. “They are looking to kill some time and so am I, no strings attached. Don’t you see the freedom in that?”
“I guess so,” I answer softly. But I’m not sure that I do.
“Don’t worry so much about it,” she says as we continue to walk. “We all have things that make us happy. I’ve never judged you for loving to paint, so don’t judge me for my silly romances.”
“I’d never judge you,” I say earnestly.
“And that’s why I love you,” she laughs. “Oh! Before I forget, with the retirement ship coming tomorrow everyone will be celebrating for their loved ones. Do you want to take on an extra shift with me at the tavern tomorrow night? The tips are always great, and the spinners will understand. I think they are breaking early for the day anyway.”
“Why not?” I smile. The tavern is ahead of us. “It’s not like I don’t already live here.”
“True,” Lena giggles, but her smile slightly falters. “I wasn’t sure if you’d rather be on the pier to say goodbye.”
“Word travels fast here, doesn’t it?” I close my eyes in embarrassment.
“It does when Margaret works beside you. She’s a gossip, but I did tell her to stop.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I sigh. “She’s a miracle worker. I’m glad she convinced her to go by herself. It’ll be better for everyone now.”
“Did you paint her?” Lena asks.
“No.” I shake my head. “And I’m not going to.”
“Okay.” She hugs me. “I better get home now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
‡ Chapter Eleven ‡
The trading docks are overflowing with the berthed boats of villagers coming in from the outskirts of the city. The new and old customers sit at the tavern tables enjoying a final meal with their loved ones while they await the arrival of the retirement ship.
There are no tears. It’s a day of celebration. A communal joy for surviving the harsh seas outside the wall and living a long life. Not everyone makes it to retirement age. Those that do are considered lucky. Today is a peaceful day full of good wishes and happiness.
Many times, I wondered how I would have handled it if my father chose to retire. Once you leave you don’t come back. There’s no communication with the retirees outside the wall. It’s for the best. A clean break. No one beats at the wall when they haven’t heard from their grandmother in weeks. We let them live in paradise and we are happy for them.
I wondered if I would be as strong as the children of aging parents who sit laughing at the tables this morning. Would I be jealous that my father got to leave? Hurt that he abandoned us?
I guess it doesn’t matter now. He never got the choice.
After my shift, I stand in my bedroom watching the stark white ship drop anchor in the harbor. The ferr
ymen ready their boats to carry the retired passengers out to their final cruise at sea. The people on the wharf below applaud as the first of the ferrymen push away from the docks.
My father’s bag lies beneath my bed. Its strap rests against the metal frame reminding me that I have things to do. But I don’t want to see Meghan right now. We’d sit in silence with the oppressing weight of memories while the neighbors around us celebrate.
I wonder who is taking my mother to the ferry? Maybe Rowan volunteered. What if I ran into them on the way? I don’t think I could stop myself from screaming at her. No, it’s better that I stay here today.
*
The ship is sailing to a distant land. No, stop it. Don’t paint the land.
Clouds as black as the ink on my mother’s hands. Not too dark, clouds aren’t black. Heavy gray. With streaks of lightning followed by the thunderous cheers as another ferry leaves the docks.
And the wind? The wind has no color except for the ones that it steals. Streaks of rain swirl into the raging sea of green. The power of a storm above the ocean.
I’m humming as I paint, but a new sound so sweet that it takes my breath away quiets the notes on my lips. It’s a distant hum. Deeper and more poetic than any voice I’ve ever heard. The paintbrush drips in my hand. My eyes close as I listen to the sound. Whoever is singing can’t be from here.
The music rises delicately over the noise from the tavern beneath me. I open my eyes and shake off the fog I enter when I paint. The sun is beginning to set. I’ve lost the whole afternoon, but the raging storm on the open sea in front of me is worth it. The ship that was so grand just a few days ago has become minuscule in the force of these new colors.
I think of my childhood mural. The images had gotten better over the years, but never like this. The music from the tavern picks up tempo. I hurriedly wash the paint from my hands so that I can go see who is singing.
The melody is louder outside my door. I pause with my back pressed against the frame to scan the crowd of the tavern below the walkway. Voices are subdued tonight despite the ongoing celebration for the long-gone retirees. Maybe the sound is less in my ears because I’m only listening for one voice.
The music turns melancholy and it tugs at my heart, but I still don’t see anyone singing. I almost think I’m losing my grip on reality. The song doesn’t exist outside my head.
My eyes dance up from the crowd below and I’m drawn to the loft. There is a group of watchmen lounging comfortably on the chairs. The handsome one who was watching the spinners from the wharf yesterday turns his head toward my direction. He stares as if he is still on duty, but it doesn’t faze me.
In the corner of the loft, half covered in the shadows, is the watchman Calder. He runs his fingers over a curved box. The humming sound that pulled me from my painting vibrates from this instrument in his hands. Deep pinging notes roll across my skin and send shivers up my spine.
I move toward the sound as easily as a fish swims to bait. There is no logic in my actions. I want to hear it. To find out what this device is and understand how it is played.
“There you are.” Lena hands me a tray as she steps up from the top of the stairs blocking my view of Calder. “I was going to come knock on your door, but I haven’t had a moment to breathe since I came in tonight. Take this over to the loft for me please. I’m going to run back downstairs and get the other one.”
The weight of the tray causes me to stumble. The blood drains from my face. Zander.
“What is it?” she gasps. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say embarrassed at her reaction. “I just didn’t expect to serve the watchmen tonight.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she laughs as she flips her hair over her shoulder. Her nose scrunches in excitement. “Did you see that the cute one is here?”
“Yeah, I saw.” She’s already heading down the stairs. “What is that thing that Calder is playing?”
“Who?” She turns to look
“That watchman with the box and strings.” I use my chin to point in his direction.
“Oh,” she says. “I think it’s called a guitar. It was passed down through his family or something. Gertrude said it was fine that he plays it. It’s pretty sounding, right?”
“It is,” I say sincerely, turning back toward the sound. Lena hurries down the steps as I walk over to the loft.
I place the tray on the middle table unsure of where it is going. It doesn’t seem to matter. The watchmen reach past me like I’m not there to grab their drinks. I’m not really here anyway. I’m staring at the way Calder’s fingers move across the strings and internalizing the notes that the instrument makes.
His head hangs forward, shading his eyes from view, while he strums against the box. He looks as lost in the music as me. Suddenly, he seems like a real person.
Which is dangerous. The look he gives as he raises his head to find me staring reminds me just how dangerous it is. He isn’t some random person and I need to be careful. They are watching me.
I step backwards right into the broad chest of the blond watchman. “I’m so sorry,” I mutter as the heat rises to my face.
“Don’t be sorry.” His tone is good natured and polite, but there is a heavy crudeness beneath the surface that frightens me. “You can fall into me any time you like.”
Lena appears with a tray holding the plates of food. I escape the awkward closeness as I rush to help relieve her of the burden.
“Is that everything, gentlemen?” She smiles brightly.
“I think so,” the watchman answers. “Unless you’d like to spend some time with us.”
My sarcastic reply is stuck in my throat and my jaw drops instead as Lena replies, “Drake, isn’t it? As you can see, we are very busy with the dinner rush. But if you stick around tonight, I might let you buy me a drink.”
She winks playfully and turns to leave. The other watchmen laugh as they clap Drake on the back. The whole situation catches me off guard. I stand there foolishly wringing my hands trying to process what just happened. It’s only Calder’s look of contempt as he sets down the guitar that causes me to flee.
*
“What was all that about?” I ask Lena once we are safely in the kitchen.
“What?” she laughs. “It’s only a little harmless flirtation.”
Zoe takes a plate from the cook and sets it on her tray as she pushes her way into our conversation. “Oh, are they being playful tonight?” she smirks.
Lena’s smile slips from her face. “They are, but the blond one named Drake is mine.”
“You can have him,” Zoe says as they turn to stare at each other. “He seems like a jerk.”
I’m a fly on the wall watching this side of my friend that I’ve never seen. There is a deep-rooted tension between the two girls.
“Where’s your daughter?” The words rush out of my mouth attempting to redirect their attention from the brewing argument. I pray she can’t hear the uncomfortable worry in my voice. The last thing I want to do is judge her.
Both girls turn to me. Lena’s face is sympathetic. Zoe rolls her eyes like I’m naive. I shrink further into myself.
“Gertrude needed extra help tonight, so I dropped her off with a friend,” she says in annoyance. “Is that alright with you?”
“She’s just trying to help.” Lena sighs as she comes to my rescue. “She didn’t mean anything by it. I think she’s shocked.”
“Shocked about what?” Zoe raises an eyebrow.
Before I can answer, Lena responds, “She doesn’t want the same things we want.”
“She doesn’t like men?” Zoe asks.
“I do too.” My tone is harsh as I interject myself back into the conversation. “I just never thought about spending time with the watchmen.”
Zoe’s eyes gleam with amusement. “Spending time with them is fun. Try it sometime. You might like it.” She grabs the final plate of food and uses her hip to open the kitchen door. The roar of the diners
’ chatter fades again when the door closes.
“Hey.” Lena puts a delicate hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it and don’t let her get to you. I know with everything going on, the watchmen are the last people you want to see. But you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I’ll handle their tables for the rest of the night.”
This feeling of being ashamed and childlike burns at my pride. “Maybe I’ll have a drink later too. It might be fun.” I raise my chin as I walk out of the kitchen.
*
The night passes too quickly. I keep listening for the sound of music to drift down from the stairs but all I hear are the calls for a refill and the pounding of my own heart in my ears.
When the diners leave, the drinkers stay nursing their beers and reminiscing about their loved ones that left today. Gertrude wipes down the bar counter as I carry the empty dishes to the kitchen.
“Are you coming with us?” Zoe asks. She and Lena have linked arms. They’re leaning against each other like good friends. This whole night is surprising me.
“Maybe not tonight,” Lena says softly. “Some other time though.”
“Let me drop these off.” I lift the stack of plates and look Lena straight in the eye, foolishly refusing the escape she’s offering.
In the kitchen I hesitate while smoothing my hands down the front of my dress to dislodge any stray bits of food that cling to me. The door feels heavy to open. On the bar are three large beers poured.
“Shall we?” Zoe asks as she grabs her drink. Gertrude doesn’t meet my eyes when I reach for mine. Lena throws me an encouraging smile over her shoulder as she climbs the steps to the loft. It’s much warmer up here than it is downstairs.
“Thanks for the drinks.” Lena raises her mug and the watchmen cheers her in salute. Most of the men are engaged in a quiet happy chatter playing dice games, but they part to make room for us to sit. Lena slides in gracefully next to Drake. He returns her batting eyelash smirk with a grin. His eyes are already glossy and red rimmed.
The City on the Sea (City on the Sea Series Book 1) Page 10