A Star to Steer Her By

by Beth Anne Miller

  Chapter Five

  Three days into our voyage, we’d settled into the routine of life aboard ship. Breakfast was at 0800, which we had the option to skip if we didn’t have watch, and our first class of the day was at 1030. Those on the 0800 watch had day duty, which meant cleaning up from breakfast, polishing the brass on the compass and the bell, cleaning the heads, and scrubbing the wooden deck with sea water and long-handled brushes to preserve the wood. Then came lunch at noon, and then our afternoon class at 1500, followed by dinner at 1800. There were also two people on galley duty each day, helping Peggy prepare and put out the meals.

  Free time was spent doing classwork or being drilled on which lines handled which sails. Even though we hadn’t raised or lowered any sails since leaving San Juan, we occasionally had to tend them to make the best use of the wind. This was usually small adjustments like easing or taking up tension on the lines, as well as tacking, which was changing the direction of the sails, and involved passing the booms of the mainsail and foresail to the other side of the deck and tending the headsail sheets.

  I’d adjusted to sleeping in the tiny bunk, using the head, brushing my teeth on deck, and dumping buckets of seawater over myself. The only thing I hadn’t adjusted to was the sea. Anyone who had been seasick the first few days was pretty much over it—except for me.

  I became fast friends with Kevin, who always seemed to appear with a bottle of water and a lame joke when I was hanging over the rail wishing I’d fall overboard. We got along as if we’d known each other all our lives, easily bantering back and forth and doing our classwork together. And Amanda was nice, too, although she was a bit aloof sometimes. Steve was more a challenge for me—it was hard to tell if he was being serious or making a joke, and I wasn’t used to his sense of humor. But he was really good with the navigation assignments, and kindly offered to help me when I struggled with them.

  Jenny was a bigger challenge. She was a competent sailor, but her heart wasn’t in it. I never saw her tip her face to the wind or simply stand at the rail to look at the sea. She continued to dress like she was going to classes on campus—her clothes were carefully coordinated, and she took extra time with her hair and makeup.

  Most of the other girls, myself included, had given up on makeup altogether and pretty much threw our hair into a braid or bandanna and forgot about it. It didn’t matter what we were wearing, because it would get doused with sea spray or streaked with dirt from doing some chore. Makeup was pointless—we were sweating in the sun. And it didn’t pay to do our hair, because the wind would mess it up within minutes. Not caring what I looked like was one of the best parts of being at sea, and I suspected if Jenny would only give in to it, she’d have a much better time.

  That morning, I came up on deck and stopped short at the sight of Jenny and Tristan sitting side by side on the starboard deck locker. Her thigh was pressed against his, and she was leaning over so far that he was staring down her bikini top. Not that I could blame him—it was a pretty impressive sight.

  “I just can’t get it, Tristan. Can you show it to me again?”

  He dragged his eyes to the piece of rope he held, and with a few quick, deft flicks of his hands, he whipped it into a bowline knot. “There, see? Easy.”

  She playfully slapped his forearm with her manicured hand (how did her nails still look that good?). “How do you expect me to see anything when your hands move so fast?”

  Ugh. I wanted to vomit, and not from the roll of the ship. I mean, really, the bowline was one of the easiest knots to tie—we’d learned it on the first day—how could she still be unable to do it?

  Right. She wasn’t unable to do it, she was just playing dumb to get attention.

  And Tristan seemed to be falling for it—or, at least, he didn’t seem inclined to send her on her way. He did the knot again. So easy. It was a knot used for a million different things on deck, such as tying off the long line attached to the bucket so we could drop it down into the water.

  “Now you try.” He pulled the knot free and handed the line to Jenny. She made a mess out of it and held it up. “Seriously? Does that look like a bowline to you, Jenny?”

  She giggled and tossed her hair. “I’m just not coordinated enough.”

  Tristan looked up and saw me watching them. “Hey, Ari, come here a sec.”

  Uh-oh. Nothing good could come from this. I approached cautiously. “What’s up?”

  “Have a seat,” he said, standing up. I sat down beside Jenny. “I don’t think I’m doing a great job of explaining the bowline to Jenny, probably because I’ve been doing it since I was four and it’s second nature. Since you just learned it, I think you might be a better person to show her.” He handed me the piece of line. “Let’s see you do it.”

  I tied the knot—slower than Tristan had done it, but without hesitation.

  “Perfect! And you did it so it’s easy to follow. Jenny, you’ll have this down in no time. I have to go take care of some things with Davey, so I’ll see you guys on watch.” He patted Jenny’s shoulder and strode away—but not before I saw his lips curve in a smile.

  I felt the anger radiating from Jenny. Gee, thanks, Tristan. What did I ever do to you? Taking a deep breath, I turned to face her. I wasn’t disappointed. Her death glare could have rivaled Medusa’s.

  “Do you really need help with the bowline?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I’ve seen you on watch. You know what you’re doing, better than a lot of us. I think you’re smarter than you look”—she actually hissed at that—“and you wanted some attention from Tristan.”

  “You’re just jealous,” she ground out.

  “I’m actually not.” Which was the truth. He was kind to her, but it didn’t seem to go beyond that. Besides, I wasn’t interested in him that way—or at least that’s what I kept telling myself. Then I thought about it. “You know what? I am jealous of you. Not because of Tristan, but because you’re lucky enough not to be seasick all the time. Why don’t you stop flouncing around and just let yourself have fun?”

  “Whatever,” she muttered, though with less hostility than I expected.

  I got to my feet and tossed the rope in her lap. “You should go find Tristan and show him your bowline. I’m sure he’ll be impressed.”

  …

  My shift on watch had ended at midnight, and I’d crawled into my bunk, exhausted. I hadn’t slept much since we’d set sail, and though I hadn’t slept very well in over six months and was used to being tired, it was different out here. The sun and sea air drained the energy out of me the same way they did back home after a day at the beach or on the dive boat, but the constant nausea I felt down in my bunk made it impossible to relax—I was always poised to run up on deck. Maybe tonight my body would just give in to the exhaustion and let me sleep.

  But it wasn’t long before it became clear that wasn’t going to be the case. Just as I’d dozed off, my stomach lurched and I had to run up on deck. After I did my thing, I informed Justin, the mate on duty, that I was on deck and flopped down on the port side deck locker near midships, where I’d be out of the way.

  I pulled my feet up and rested my weary head on my bent knees. It will be better tomorrow. Tomorrow, we’d be arriving in port, and I’d be on land. I’d be able to eat without feeling like it was a wasted effort, and maybe I’d be able to just nap on the beach. Then we had a hike the day after. And then maybe when we set sail a few days later, the seasickness would be gone.

  After a while, my right thigh cramped. I sat up straight, dropped my feet to the deck, and massaged the muscle, sniffing back tears.

  “Red, is that you?”

  Startled, I jerked my head up to see a figure before me. “Tristan?”

  “Aye, it’s me.” He sat beside me, his arm brushing mine. I tried to ignore the little thrill that ran through me. “Sick again? Or is it your leg?”

  “C, all of the above,” I muttered. “First I felt sick, and then my leg cramped. Wh
at are you doing here?”

  “Couldn’t sleep. I don’t really sleep well.”

  “We make a good pair, then.” I cringed. “I mean—”

  “Aye, we do,” he said, saving me from whatever stupid thing I was going to say. He leaned his head back against the side of the cabin. “It’s not so bad, though.”

  “What, not sleeping? I’m not really a fan.”

  “Well, it’s no fun to be exhausted all the time, I’ll give you that. But lean your head back.”

  “What?”

  “Lean back.” I mimicked his position. “Now, look up.”

  I looked up. The sky was inky black, shot through with the pure-white specks of a countless number of stars.

  “It’s not so bad to be out here in the sea air, looking up at that sky, is it?”

  “No, it’s not.” It was breathtaking.

  “I never get used to it. And when I’m back in port, especially in the busier cities where the light pollution hides all but a few stars, I can’t take it for more than a day or so before I need to be out at sea again.”

  I glanced over at him. “How long have you been a deckhand?”

  “On the Meg? Since December, when we started getting her ready for this voyage. But I’ve been on tall ships my whole life. I’m actually licensed as a first mate, and I’ve been working toward my captain’s license. I hope to have that in the next few years.”

  “Then why—” No, it wasn’t my business why he’d take a lesser position as a deckhand. Maybe there were no jobs at his level.

  “Why am I here as a deckhand, instead of working as a mate on another ship?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It was more important for me to be on this ship with my father right now than worry about titles and pay grades.”

  That I could understand. “I get it. Family is important. And complicated,” I added, thinking of Josh.

  “Josh?”

  I jolted, not expecting to hear my brother’s name on Tristan’s lips. “How did you—”

  “You said last night that your twin brother, Josh, was with you when you got hurt and that it was hard to be around him.”

  He remembered that? My freshman year boyfriend didn’t remember things I’d told him five minutes earlier, and I’d been with him for a few months. Tristan not only remembered I had a twin brother, he remembered his name, too. He’s just observant—it’s his job to be.

  “Josh and I were best friends. We have other close friends, of course, but we always told each other everything, always hung out together. We both got scholarships to Miami, and neither of us wanted to go anywhere else, so we even go to the same college.”

  I paused, remembering how happy we were when we found out we could go to college together. How great it was to run into him on campus, to have dinner together, to hang out in a group with our new friends. How far in the past all that was now.

  “You were best friends? Not anymore?”

  No, not anymore. I walked over to the rail. The dark sea below was sprinkled with the green glow of tiny bioluminescent creatures stirred up by the ship.

  Staring into that eerie darkness, I thought of that horrible day.

  I opened my eyes, blinking in the bright light. Where was I? I turned my head to see Josh sitting beside my hospital bed, his head in his hands, his hair standing on end, as though he’d been running his fingers through it for hours.

  “What are you doing here?” I whispered through parched lips.

  He dropped his hands, his eyes lighting up as a smile spread across his face. “You’re awake! Let me get you some water.” His hands shaking slightly, he poured water from a pitcher into a cup with a straw and held it out.

  With a clumsy hand, I knocked it aside, wincing as the motion tugged at the IV in my arm. “I said, what are you doing here?”

  The expression on his face went from surprise at the sudden dousing of water, to confusion. “You had another surgery this morning. I was waiting for you to wake up. Mom and Dad are just getting coffee.”

  Another surgery. Panic rising within me, I fumbled at my right thigh. But all I could feel was a thick layer of bandages. I tried to reach lower, but couldn’t make my body cooperate.

  “Ari, it’s okay. You’re still numb from the anesthesia, and it’s all bandaged up for now, but they don’t think you’ll need any more surgery—”

  “It’s not okay, Josh! How is any of this okay? I’m lying here after another surgery with no feeling in my right leg, which if I’m lucky, will turn into agony when the anesthesia wears off. And it’s your fault.”

  His face, already pale and haggard, went white, and he flinched as if I’d struck him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t see—”

  “No, you didn’t see, because you weren’t fucking there! As usual.”

  Tears welled in his hazel eyes, so like mine. “I know. God, Ari, don’t you think I know? I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  He reached for my hand, but I snatched it away. “Well, thanks to you, I’ll never stop thinking about it, will I?” I shouted, gesturing to my leg.

  “Ari, I—”

  “Go away, Josh.”

  He nodded. “Okay. I’ll find Mom and Dad, let them know you’re awake, and then I’ll come back later after you’ve had a chance to rest.”

  “No.”

  “You want me to come back with Mom and Dad?”

  “No. I don’t want you to come back. At all. I don’t want to see you.”

  “I know you’re mad, but—”

  Mad? Rage rose within me, with nowhere to go but out. “I said, get out of here! And don’t come back.”

  “Ari,” he whispered.

  “Get out!”

  My monitors started beeping, and a nurse in colorful scrubs rushed into the room. “What’s going on in here?” she asked as she pressed buttons to silence the alarm.

  “I want him out of here. Now.”

  She took Josh’s arm, not very gently. “You need to leave.” He looked up at her with shimmering eyes, and her face softened. “I’m sorry, honey, but you’re upsetting her, and she needs to rest now so she can get better.”

  He lowered his head in resignation and turned toward the door. Just before he reached it, he turned back, looking as if he’d aged ten years in one minute. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again, then with his head bowed, he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  I felt shattered inside, and I knew I’d just shattered him, too. I opened my mouth to call him back, the apology already on my lips. But a wave of agony roared through my ruined leg as the anesthesia started to wear off, and I forgot everything but the pain. The pain that was his fault.

  “Red?”

  I blinked, the dark sea coming into focus, as Tristan’s voice snapped me out of that awful memory. He stood beside me at the rail.

  “We had a…falling-out after I got hurt.” Such an understatement. “And we’ve barely spoken since.” I hadn’t really even seen him, because he’d gone back to college while I’d been at home doing my classes remotely. Whatever words we had exchanged were along the lines of “pass the ketchup” on the rare occasion he was home for dinner.

  “That must be awful for you, given how close you guys were.”

  His sympathy brought tears to my eyes. “It’s like a part of me is missing,” I whispered. “I haven’t felt truly happy since then.”

  He laid his hand on my shoulder. “It’s good that you came out here on the Meg. The sea has a way of giving you perspective—maybe it’s the realization that you’re a tiny fleck on the vast sea, or maybe it’s just having the time away from everything back home, that makes you remember what’s important.”

  I appreciated that he didn’t ask what happened, because I wasn’t ready to tell him. And I also appreciated that he didn’t say that my being out here would help mend my relationship with Josh. Neither of us could possibly know if that was true.

  But it gave me hope.

  Chapter Sixr />
  As the sun rose a few hours later, we were greeted by the most beautiful sight: land. We were approaching Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic, scheduled to arrive by late afternoon.

  “Hey, Ari,” said Kevin, joining me at the rail where I stared at the horizon, trying to keep my nausea at bay. “How’re you feeling?”

  “Really freaking excited to see land. I can’t wait to feel solid ground beneath my feet.”

  His arm came around my shoulder and I leaned into him. “I hate that you’ve been so sick,” he said.

  “I’m not a fan, either.”

  Kevin and the others in my group had so far escaped being seasick. I was happy for them—I wouldn’t wish this on anyone—but I was starting to feel left out. They all hung out together whenever we weren’t on watch, while I was usually lying down somewhere or staring at the horizon and trying not to puke.

  “Hey, kids,” said Jenny, coming to stand on Kevin’s other side. “What are we looking at?”

  Kevin dropped his arm from my shoulder. “Land, ho!” he said, pointing to Puerto Plata.

  “Oh, thank God. I can finally take a real shower,” she said, lifting the end of her braid and wrinkling her nose in disgust.

  “Nah, I think grungy looks good on you,” said Kevin.

  This should be good. I waited for Jenny to explode. I wasn’t disappointed. She punched him in the arm. “You’re an asshole,” she hissed, and turned to walk away.

  To my shock, he snagged her arm. “I wasn’t being an asshole, Jenny. I think you look really good.”

  She gaped at him—as did I. “Look at me. How can you say that?”

  “I am looking at you,” he said. He was totally serious, the look in his eyes honest and admiring. Wow, he must really be into her. She was frozen with shock. But he was right. With her face rosy from the sun and her hair wild from the wind, she looked stunning—much better than she had when she first boarded the Meg. I gave him mad points for actually saying so out loud and risking her wrath.

  But I was in for another surprise that morning. After a moment, Jenny dropped her gaze. Was that a flush rising in her already-pink cheeks? “I— Thank you,” she murmured.