A Star to Steer Her By

by Beth Anne Miller

  “Hey, Kev!” shouted Steve from the foredeck. “Can you come help me for a sec?”

  “Be right there!” he shouted back. He threw an arm around each of us. “Ari, hang tight—we’re almost on land.” He turned to Jenny. “Jenny, don’t worry—you’ll have your shower soon.” He planted a loud, smacking kiss on her cheek. “Though, I still think you look awesome just the way you are.”

  He smiled at her and then walked away.

  Jenny brought her hand to her cheek. “What was that?” she muttered, looking at her hand as though it held the answer.

  “I’m…not entirely sure,” I said. “But if I had to guess, I’d say that he likes you.” Which was bizarre, since Kevin was so nice, and Jenny was so—well, “uptight” would probably be the kindest word to describe her.

  Jenny stared at him with her head cocked to the side, a thoughtful look on her face. “He is kind of adorable, isn’t he?”

  I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or to herself, since we’d never really chatted before. I turned to look as Kevin laughed at something Steve said. His hair was boyishly tousled and I could practically see his eyes sparkling, even from fifteen feet away. “He totally is.”

  “I hadn’t really thought of him in that way before, but maybe I should.”

  My own gaze shifted to the quarterdeck, where a sleepy-looking, shirtless Tristan stood, drinking coffee and chatting with Nick and Kristy, the breeze blowing his hair back from his face.

  At least Jenny and Kevin were free to hook up if they wanted to, while the “rules” said I could only look at Tristan, but not touch.

  “Well, he just told you that you looked awesome and then kissed your cheek out of the blue, right? I’d say your chances with him are pretty good.”

  The morning flew by. We had three classes before lunch, since we’d be busy with our arrival in port that afternoon.

  After lunch, which I could actually eat because we were already in the calmer seas approaching the harbor, I came upon Tristan by the mainsail throat halyard. He hefted the big coil of rope and dropped it in a pile on the deck, then began to coil it again.

  When he finished, he lifted that coil, flipped it over, took the bitter end, and began another coil.

  “What are you doing?” It wasn’t uncommon for us to be asked to redo a coil that had gotten messy, but this seemed excessive.

  He looked up. “Hey, Red. I’m doing a ballantine coil on the halyards, which makes them run better when we douse the sails. You start with the coil I just did, so that the line isn’t kinked, and then you make three coils within the larger one. Watch.”

  Oh, I was watching. He was in one of his T-shirts with the sleeves ripped off and his hair was held off his face by a bandanna-headband thing that somehow looked really hot. And I was mesmerized by the fast, capable way he paid out the line between his hands, the way the tendons in his forearms rippled. I never knew coiling a rope could be sexy.

  Now I did.

  After he’d made a couple of regular, clockwise coils, he made one smaller coil that took up about a third of the larger one, then continued around the larger circle. About another third of the way, and overlapping the first small coil, he made a second coil, then continued around and made a third one. It looked like a large circle with three overlapping smaller circles in the middle, like a Venn diagram.

  “Easy, right?” he said when he’d finished. “You want to go do the peak halyard?”

  “Okay.” We moved to the port side of the ship. He watched as I redid the working coil and then started the ballantine. My motions weren’t as smooth and fast as his, but it came out pretty good.

  I’d still rather watch him do it.

  As the harbor came into clear focus, we got ready to strike sails, a much easier process than raising them. I was assigned to tend the peak halyard for the mainsail. The ballantine coils would enable the lines to run free and bring down the sail, but someone was still required to man the halyards so that the sail came down smoothly.

  I stood by the rail, waiting for everyone to get situated, and gazed out at the aquamarine water. Wait, what was that? I pushed my sunglasses up to the top of my head and squinted. There. A shadow beneath the surface of the water. My heart started to pound.

  Relax. Even if there’s something there, it’s in the water and you’re on a ship. You’re safe.

  “You all right, Red?” I spun around to see Tristan standing a few feet away. I looked back at the water, but nothing was there. “Red?”

  I dropped my sunglasses back onto my nose and nodded. “I’m fine. Just a cramp in my leg.” I massaged the aching muscle through my knee-length shorts, shuddering as I felt the ridges beneath my fingers.

  Tristan stared at me, clearly not convinced.

  I managed a smile. “I’m fine, really.”

  “All right, then. Do you remember what to do?”

  “Yeah.” I carefully knelt and unwound the figure-eights of wrapped line from the pin—

  —and felt my arm wrench as the line started to run out. “Help!” I yelled, trying to hold the line, picturing the sail crashing down with my hand caught between the rope and the pin…

  The line abruptly stopped moving, and I looked up to see Davey holding the part of the line leading down to the block, his tattooed arms bulging. “Tristan,” he said calmly.

  Tristan knelt beside me and grabbed the line between my hands and the pin. “I’ve got it, Ari. Let go.” I obeyed and sank back onto my heels as he quickly whipped the line around the pin and tugged it so it was tight. “All fast,” he called to Davey. He laid a hand on my arm, his eyes full of concern. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded miserably. My shoulders and palms were sore, but I’d live. I slowly got to my feet, careful to put my weight on my left leg.

  “A Watch, gather ’round,” said Davey. “Who saw what just happened?”

  “I did,” said Jenny. My face burned even hotter. Of course she did. “Ari let go of the line.”

  “That’s not what happened,” said Kevin. “She forgot to palm the line.” He looked at me. “I’m sorry, Ari—it happened too fast for me to say anything.”

  “It’s my fault for not paying attention.” For being so paralyzed by the fear of what was most likely nothing more deadly than a damn cloud passing overhead—and even if it was something in the water, it wouldn’t be able to harm me, anyway—that I nearly caused major injury to myself and others and/or damage to the freaking mainsail.

  I closed my eyes, trying to hold back tears. It was one thing for my fear of the water to affect me, but if it was now becoming a threat to others, that was really bad.

  “Let’s do it again. Ari, you’re up.” I opened my eyes to see Davey’s encouraging smile. Okay, if he was giving me another try, maybe he didn’t think I was a hazard to everyone else. I knelt once more and cupped my left palm over the wrapped line, holding it against the pin. “Good,” he said. “Now, keeping your left hand there, take a few turns off the pin with your right.”

  By holding my palm over the line, I had much more control. I took off the first few turns, so that the line came up from the block and was wrapped once around the pin, then hesitantly removed my left hand and stood up straight, holding the line with both hands a few inches apart from each other. This time, I was easily able to take the strain. Which made it all worse, because it was such a simple thing that I screwed up.

  “Good job, Ari. Next time you’ll do it right without even having to think about it.” Well, that was definitely true. No way would I make that mistake again, no matter what I saw—or didn’t see—in the water.

  Slowly, keeping pace with Steve on the other halyard, I paid out the line, which creaked as it rubbed against the pin a few inches at a time. The carefully coiled line ran smoothly, and before long, the big sail was down. Some of the others hopped up onto the salon roof to furl the sail, while I coiled the short bit of the halyard that remained on the deck.

  A shadow joined mine on the deck. “You s
ure you’re all right, Red?”

  I turned to meet Tristan’s concerned gaze. “I’m fine. I just feel really stupid. I won’t be that careless again.”

  “You’re not stupid, you were distracted. What did you see out there?”

  “Nothing. I just made a mistake.” Please drop it.

  “It’s a really common mistake. If it hadn’t been you, it would have been someone else.”

  “Right. Well, I kind of wish it had been someone else, then. I’m going to go see what else needs to be done. Thanks for helping me.” I walked away before he could reply.

  Chapter Seven

  Everything else, including anchoring the ship, passed by in a blur, and yet it still took too long. I needed to get off this damn ship.

  A Customs official arrived in a small boat. After he’d cleared everyone’s passport and returned to shore, we were dismissed. We were told that there were public showers at the dock, so once we were relieved of our duties, everyone ran down below to gather their stuff for a shower and an evening ashore. I threw toiletries, a towel, and clean clothes into my knapsack with my purse, slung the pack onto my back, and hurried up on deck, eager to be on the first boat ashore. Speedy had already been lowered into the water, and I climbed down the wobbly ladder and took a seat. Within a few minutes, we had a full boat, piloted by Kristy, and it was a short trip to the dock. Ironic that just a few days ago, I’d been in the same seat on this small boat staring at the Meg with nervous anticipation, and now I was staring at the dock with the same nervous anticipation, hoping for some relief from my seasickness.

  She kept the boat in place by holding on to the fender that dangled from the dock. “Bienvenido—welcome—to Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic. There should be enough shops and places to eat in town to keep y’all occupied for a while. The first boat run back will be at 1900, and the last at 2100, so make sure you’re back at this dock no later than that, or else you’ll be swimming back to the ship. Have fun, but don’t go anywhere alone.”

  I stepped onto the dock—and promptly staggered, clutching Kevin’s arm for balance. “What the hell? Why does the dock feel like it’s moving?”

  “You just need to adjust to being on land,” said Kevin.

  “For real? I haven’t even adjusted to being on the ship!”

  “I’m hitting the showers,” said Jenny.

  “Me, too,” said Amanda. “Ari, you coming?”

  I spotted the bank of payphones to the right. “I’m going to make a phone call first. I’ll meet you by the showers in a bit.”

  I pulled out my calling card and dialed my mom’s cell phone.

  One ring. Two rings. Come on, Mom. Three rings. Finally, a click. “Hello?”

  At the sound of my mom’s voice, my seasickness, exhaustion, and embarrassment from my earlier mistake came crashing down, and I started to cry.

  “Ari! Is that you?”

  I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Yeah, Mom, it’s me.”

  “Are you crying? Are you okay?”

  Shit. Now she was going to panic. “I’m okay, Mom. Just…glad to hear your voice, that’s all.”

  “Are you sure? You sound—I don’t know—are you sure you’re okay? Is it your leg? I knew it was too soon—”

  “My leg is fine. I’m fine, Mom. Just feeling a little homesick.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure.” I could tell she didn’t believe me, but she didn’t want to argue, either. “Are you having a good time? Have you made new friends? Is it everything you thought it would be?”

  Not exactly. “I’m having a great time.” Lie. “Everyone is really nice.” Mostly. “And the ship is beautiful.” Truth!

  “Wonderful! Have you been in the water yet?” she asked cautiously.

  “No, we’ve been at sea this whole time.”

  “Oh, right. Are there any cute guys?”

  “Mom!”

  “Well, are there? I was hoping that there’d be some hunky student or deckhand or something.”

  She sounded so hopeful, and here at least was one thing I could be truthful about. “Well, there’s this one deckhand. He’s really nice, and he’s…pretty hot.”

  “How hot? Come on, I need details.”

  I smiled through my tears. “Longish sun-streaked hair, sea-blue eyes, really tan, and strong. And he’s from Scotland.”

  “Does he sound like Gerard Butler?”

  I grinned at that. “Even sexier.”

  “Sexier than Gerry? Oh, wow.”

  “Yeah, it makes things interesting.” I looked at my watch. “Mom, I gotta go.”

  “Okay, honey. I’m sorry you didn’t get to talk to Dad. I know he’s been eager to hear all about the trip.” She hesitated. “You should call Josh. I know he’d be so glad to hear from you.”

  I closed my eyes, the happiness I felt from talking to her draining away. “Mom, I—”

  “Please, sweetie. He’s…not doing well. He comes home every weekend and just hides in his room. I can’t stand to see him like this. He needs to hear your voice and know you’re okay. He’s your brother, Ari. Your twin. How long are you going to be mad at him?”

  The anger rose within me, as it always did when she brought up Josh. “It’s not like he borrowed my car without asking and scratched it up. He was selfish and careless—not for the first time—causing me months of pain and nightmares and possibly ending my career in marine biology before it even started. So, I don’t know how long I’ll be mad at him!”

  “Ari—”

  “What did you expect, that I’d get on the ship and everything would magically be okay again?”

  “Of course not, but—”

  “I’m gonna go. I don’t want to use the minutes on my calling card fighting with you. I’ll call when I can.”

  I hung up the phone and dropped onto a nearby bench, burying my face in my hands. I hated that my whole family had been torn apart by Josh’s carelessness. Part of me was glad to hear that he wasn’t okay, that he wasn’t blithely partying it up at college, that he was miserable. But he was my twin, and no matter how angry I was with him, it killed me to hear the worry in my mom’s voice, to think that my handsome, cheerful, outgoing brother was a shadow of what he once was.

  “Oh, Josh,” I whispered, picturing his easy smile and that devilish light in his eyes—and how before I left, that light had gone out, and his smile, if it appeared at all, was a ghost of what it had been. I was the only one who could bring it all back—bring him back. But first I needed this physical distance between us, which I prayed would help me overcome the emotional distance.

  I got to my feet and headed to the showers before anyone saw me looking miserable. The shower was lukewarm, with mediocre pressure, and it took forever to wash my hair. But it gave me time to get my emotions under control.

  When I came out, Kevin was sitting on a bench waiting for me, his curly, dark hair wet from the shower.

  “Hey, Ari. How does it feel to be clean?”

  “Pretty damn good,” I said. We left the marina and turned onto a street lined with shops. “Where is everyone?”

  “They went to the beach. I told them we’d catch up in a few. I saw you after you got off the phone and thought you might need a minute.”

  His kindness nearly brought me to tears again. “I called home. It…made me a little homesick.”

  “It’s more than that. Come on, I’ll buy you an ice cream cone and you can tell me what’s up.”

  Ice cream wouldn’t solve any of my problems, but it certainly couldn’t hurt. We went up to the window, and in fluent Spanish, Kevin ordered us chocolate cones (and flirted with the pretty girl at the counter).

  We plunked down on a bench. I tasted the ice cream and closed my eyes in bliss. “Oh, this is good.”

  “It is. Quit stalling.”

  I sighed. I’d have to tell him something. “You said you know my brother, Josh, right?”

  “Not well—just to say hi to, really—but yeah.”

  “Well, he and
I…we haven’t spoken in a while, and when I called home just now, my mom laid into me about it again. I get that she’s upset about it—so am I—but I just wanted to hear her voice, you know? I didn’t need her to get into it with me on my first call home from a payphone in the Dominican Republic. Instead of feeling better after talking to her, I feel worse.”

  “I’m sorry, Ari. I’m sure your mom meant well, she just has shit timing.”

  “She really does.”

  “Why are you and Josh on the outs? Does it have anything to do with your leg injury?”

  I froze, mid-bite of my ice cream cone. How does he know about that? I swallowed, then wiped my mouth with a napkin. “What do you mean?”

  “I see you walking a little stiffly sometimes first thing in the morning or at the end of watch, or rubbing your right thigh after you’ve been at the helm for a while. It’s not obvious or anything,” he hastened to add, “I’ve just noticed it a few times.”

  “I, um…” I wanted to tell him at least some of it, but knowing that he knew Josh, even just vaguely, stopped me. I didn’t want to make my brother look bad to someone else.

  He touched my arm. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But if you do—when you do—I’m here, okay?”

  I swallowed hard. “Thanks. It helps to know that. Anyway, enough about me,” I hurried to say. “What’s with you and Jenny?”

  He inclined his head, acknowledging the subject change. “Nothing. But I might want there to be,” he added with a grin.

  “I don’t get it. I mean, she’s hot and all, but she’s so shallow.”

  “I don’t think she is, actually. I think there’s more going on with her than we think, and she puts on the attitude as a front. I’ve noticed her on deck when she thinks no one is watching, and she usually looks—sad? Lonely? Maybe both.”

  I’d actually noticed that once or twice, too. But I couldn’t resist ragging on him. “So…what you’re saying is that you just spy on everyone, then?” I said with a smile. “Not too creepy.”

  “What can I say? I just look out for my friends. That’s not a bad thing, is it?”