Haunting Savannah: 8 Dark and Seductive Tales
Page 47
His head jerked, and his eyes flew wide. “There has only ever been one woman aboard this ship, and she was a stowaway.” He remarked candidly. “It’s not possible.”
Esme took a deep calming breath before she began. “I cannot explain to you, how I know, the things that I know. Once upon a time, in 1865 specifically, I know that I was aboard that tug.” She head-canted toward the deck where he sat. “I remember it as clearly as if it were yesterday; the sound of your voice, the expression on your face, the angry blush that crept your cheeks as you rebuked me in full view, and earshot, of everyone along the shore. Though only memory now, I can still remember the feel of my embarrassment, and, the overwhelming, though misdirected, anger as Andrew was reassigned.”
His mouth dropped open as she recounted the events. It surely would not have been anything remotely interesting enough to have been included in any historical accounting. The only explanation left was that she was there. “But how…” He began his query.
“I don’t know.” She answered directly, staring him down. “I have just come to accept it as truth. Likely, as you have had to come to accept whatever it is that happened to you.”
“What happened to me?” He spluttered before clearing his throat and composing himself. “What happened to me, was an enveloping fog that obscured everything from view. Until yesterday, the thick, oppressive mist has been my only constant.”
Esme studied his expression. She couldn’t tell, or decide, if it was melancholy or repressed anger that she saw. “And you have no idea what changed?” She finally asked when he added nothing further.
The negative shake of his head answered her before his words. “Not a clue in this world.” He lamented. “Why now? I was hoping you might have the answer to that.”
She watched him watching her as she thought. “The only thing of note about this time, right now, is that it’s Halloween. The veil is at its thinnest point. But, I don’t understand beyond that why you would be here, and not the others.”
“What others?” He asked leaning forward with a frown.
Esme sighed. She was not sure how he would take the news. “The night that your ship vanished? So did dozens of others. Entire vessels, complete with every member of their crew…were just gone. No one knew why, or where you had all disappeared to. Families left behind were devastated, and the river essentially died for a long time as no one would come through to port.”
She noted absently a pained look as it passed over his features when she mentioned the families. She hadn’t meant to be so thoughtless. He probably had a family then. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think…” She stammered.
He held up his hand. “I accepted long ago that if they weren’t with me, they were somehow left behind without me. It was not by choice, so I made my peace with it ages ago.”
“You have a family.” She stated softly, still regretting mentioning it.
He nodded. “Yes, I had a family.” He corrected. “My parents depended on some of my earnings from the river. I had a wife too, though we seldom shared company. A captain’s life is on the water, not family dinners or sitting a porch. I had a family, and people who depended on me. But, my life wasn’t with them. My regret, was leaving them in need of support.” He offered, barely audible.
“But you weren’t given a choice. It wasn’t for you to decide, or determine if you would stay or go, right?” She presented her logic, both hands out, pleading.
“No. It wasn’t. I didn’t. It doesn’t diminish or change the fact that they were left behind.”
She would not repeat her apology, even though she felt it. Instead, she sat quietly, letting him absorb and deal with the information she had given, as well as probably the memories he thought he had buried. She was surprised when he spoke again, completely shifting the topic. “This is Savannah, right?”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Oh yes, this is definitely Savannah. It’s likely quite a bit different than what you remember it to be.”
“She grew up.” He stated sounding impressed.
“Yes she did.” Esme replied. Thinking that perhaps it was her opening, she did her best to sound conversational. “Would you like to see her?”
She was surprised, and pleased by his response, not completely convinced that he thought before he gave it. “If you are willing to share her.”
“It would be my pleasure.”
Chapter 11
Holden absorbed the magnitude of his assent, only after he had given it. He felt the beads of perspiration dot his brow, and fought against the lump that jumped to lodge behind his larynx, stealing his breath. He fisted his hands as he rose, hoping she wouldn’t notice. His apprehension grew as he reached for the rope to lower the gain way to where she waited on the dock. It was all he could do not to let her see him tremble as he did so.
He attempted diversion. “You said you were angry when Andrew was reassigned? Who were you angry at?” He asked, hoping he was close to accurate about how she would respond.
True to expectation, she looked everywhere, except at him.
“I was furious at you.” She offered, amending quickly, “then, correctly, at myself. I was young, and foolish. I should have known better. But, at the time, at first anyway, you were the easy target for my ire.”
He chuckled. Magically, the simple act relieved some of his tension, though it returned with a vengeance as he set his first foot on the downward sloping plank. Each new step escalated his angst, and he said multiple silent prayers that it wasn’t showing. The last thing he wanted, was her to see him looking weak. “And now?” He asked, to keep her talking, interrupting her deconstructing the chair she had brought.
“Now?” She queried, sounding thoughtful. “Now, I am no longer that person. I have those memories, and they are crystal-clear, but I am not her.”
When his next step would be onto the dock, he took a shuddering breath, thankful that she chose that moment to slide the collapsed chair back into the bag she carried it in. As if in answer to the myriad prayers, when his foot touched down, it was exactly as he expected the dock to feel. The tremors that had raced his spine, and buckled his resolve at his last attempt, did not appear. He could do this.
His relief was temporary, and their companionship awkward. He hadn’t thought beyond getting off the tug, relatively unsure if it could be accomplished at all. She declined when he offered his arm for their stroll. Her explanation, while completely logical, did little to assuage him.
“If no one else can see you, it would be odd for me to walk arm in arm with no one it would raise questions for most anyone who saw us, or me anyway.” She rationalized.
Once on the Riverwalk, they turned north. She softly shared commentary about the different establishments, and things that had happened throughout the history he had missed. He paid attention, but was mentally distracted, intermittently wondering if the other ships that had disappeared, and their crews, were somehow adrift in the same fog that had ensnared him. If so, could he find them? And, if so, why had no one returned his calls across the void?
More than once, he caught himself reaching for her hand, playing it off at the brushing contact. He simply had needed to know if he was actually there. Sadly, with the confirmation that he could indeed feel her, he wanted more and wondered how much more was possible.
From the crest of a hill, she showed him the silhouette of Savannah against the last orange streaks of sunset. He was in absolute awe at how big it had become. “She’s beautiful.” He commented turning toward her.
When she turned to smile back at him, their faces were a breath apart. It was all he could do not to close that distance. Instead, he lifted a finger, and traced her cheek. “Thank you for showing me this.” He said, willing himself not to flinch.
She didn’t lean into his caress, but she didn’t pull away either. He studied her face in silence. What he saw, reflected back what he knew she must be seeing from him. The connection at the caress had ignited a slow burn in them both.
He was surprised when she did not turn toward the pier as they passed. Instead, she kept going, headed directly for the massive stone structure with the reflective walls, though they weren’t reflecting now that the sun was down, they were see-through. She didn’t say anything, or ask a question, only led the way as he followed.
Walking in through a door he hadn’t noticed, the interior was cold, and crisp like the sea air in winter. His mouth hung open as he looked up, the ceiling was so far above him, he thought it could well reach the sky. He was confused by several things. One, like the outside, there were small decks with rails that jetted into the space. What purpose they served was lost on him. There was also a small pond in the middle of the floor with people in it. He glanced back over his shoulder toward the door they had used. With the river just beyond it, why this was here, or necessary, was beyond the scope of his understanding.
She led him to stand inside a box, after a wall parted in front of him. Inside, one wall held row upon row of small backlit circles, while the others had a railing. The displacement was disorienting as the wall they had crossed through closed. He grabbed for the rail as the box jerked. Her chuckle was musical. “It’s okay. It’s only temporary, and we will exit again.” Was all she said.
When the wall broke open again, they left the box and walked a long narrow space with doors on either side that had numbers on them. She stopped at 1543, jabbed a metal shard into the handle, turned it, and gestured with her hand for him to enter as the door swung open. “This is my home.” She announced as she set down her things.
He didn’t wait for further commentary, or invitation. As soon as the door was closed and she turned, he slid his hands up the angles of her jaw, tangling his fingertips in her hair, and pulled her in, sealing his lips to hers with desperation. If he had thought she would pull away, he would have been wrong. She returned his bruising kisses, wrapping her arms around his waist and reaching up his back to pull him closer still.
With the contact he warmed and she cooled, even as a raging inferno ignited to burn between them. The fervor of his need surprised him, even as she demanded in equal return from him all that he was taking. It was only her need for air that paused the desperate consumption between them.
His heart raced in time with her panting breaths at the brief separation. He didn’t want to stop, but the gentleman in him would not allow him to continue this way. He looked deep into her eyes as he spoke. “While I would have you in a heartbeat this way, perhaps you would prefer to have me after a wash.”
Her responding laughter was loud and robust. “As you wish.” She answered, taking him by the hand around a corner to a small room. The amenities were exceptionally more than any copper tub he’d ever sat in. The rest of the arrangement confused him. Smiling, she showed him how to turn the handles and bring rain into the room. He could only imagine the expression on his face to prompt her next comment. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt. And, I’ll still be here when you’re done.”
He raced through the waterfall, cleaning quickly, surprised at the temperature, and pressure that came through the small opening. He panicked when he emerged, as the room had filled with a thick mist. A looking glass on the far wall was full of steam except for several scrawled words.
When you exit, turn left, and turn left. I’ll be waiting.
He found her in a cabin space, easily half the size of his entire tug. The center was filled with the largest bed he had ever seen. Dwarfed in the center, covered by a thin fabric that barely concealed her, she was, true to her word, waiting.
He forced himself to slowly take in, and let out, a deep breath, not wanting to trip over himself in his approach. The piece of him he had not needed in more years than he cared to recount led the way. Her smile spurned him to pick up the pace.
Sliding beneath the sheet, they picked up where they had left off in the other room before his wash up. Drugging kisses, and wandering hands had them entangled in the bedclothes before long. He liberated them both, kicking the fabric to the floor before resuming his quest to explore every inch of her. When the last pieces of their bodies lined up and came together, he forced himself to slow. It was temporary. They were swept up in the vortex of their combined passions, trading places back and forth without thought, or direction. He was stunned anew by the veracity of their union. He had never known a joining like this. Selfishly, he hoped that she hadn’t either.
Through the night, they came together repeatedly with small breaks between. He couldn’t get enough, and judging by her responses, neither could she. His need was consumed, even as his want reached for more. It was still dark when they finally paused long enough for her to drift off to sleep in his arms. He couldn’t think of a more fitting conclusion.
Holden awoke in a panic. Whatever had rousted him, had his heart beating so robustly that he thought it would leap from his chest. Looking around the room, he knew immediately what it was. Drifting in on long tendrils, the fog was returning for him. He knew there was no escape. His break from the veil was over.
Chapter 12
Esme stretched, opened her eyes, and found Holden was gone. Wrapping herself in the discarded sheet, she padded through the apartment. The galley kitchen was empty, as was the living room. She wept when she checked the bathroom. It too was empty, but new scrawl had been added to the mirror with her eyeliner.
I will miss you.
I awoke to be reclaimed by the fog.
Selfish though I may be, I could not bring myself to let it take you too.
Perhaps it will break again and give us another chance.
Remember me.
Esme ran to the balcony and threw open the slider. Far below, the sloop at the short north pier stood empty. She crumbled into a heap with the fabric just inside the door, letting the violent sobs become a tirade of tears to overtake her.
Three hundred sixty-three days later, Esme stood near the Riverwalk rail at dusk. She had grieved the loss of Captain Henry for nearly a year. Foolish though it may be, she hoped that with the thinning veil, he might be revealed to her once again. She watched the water for hours, but nothing changed. Well past midnight, she forced herself back inside, and up to the 15th floor. She climbed into bed alone, and like so many nights before, cried herself to sleep.
Drifting to the surface of wakefulness, Esme realized she was not alone. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know whose cool form was beside her. As though he sensed her rising consciousness, without a word, her lips were overtaken by those of the tugboat captain she had missed so desperately. She clung to him, tangling her limbs with his as if she could prevent him from leaving her again. It was a fool’s errand, but one she would take repeatedly if necessary.
She wept anew when they finally broke apart. His smile was bright, and she tried desperately to return it as he spoke. “Good morning beautiful.”
“Let it take me with you next time.” She pleaded, belying her desperation not to be apart from him again.
He ran a finger along her cheek and pulled her close, though kept space so he could look at her, and she him. “I don’t believe that is my decision to make. I didn’t get a choice the first time, I doubt I will get one any other time.” He remarked softly. “Besides, I could not in good conscience do to another family, what was done to mine. You are not alone in this world. Perhaps one day, when that changes, you will get to come with me. Or, perhaps by then, I will get to stay. For now, we will have to agree to accept, and enjoy whatever time we are given.”
“But, it would be my choice.” She defied. “Don’t I get a say?”
“Only time will tell.”
He answered before brushing her lips with a kiss. “For now, how about we not waste time touring the town, and just stay secreted away?”
Esme bolted up, pushed him back, and straddled across his abdomen. She buried him with kisses and caresses until she needed a brief respite for air. “Does this work for you?” She teased, laughing.
He seized her hips, lined them up, and drove for home. “Does that answer your question?” he replied smugly.
In retrospect, Esme estimated that they’d had approximately thirty-six hours, and for those thirty-six hours she hadn’t let him out of her sight except for a couple of quick trips to the washroom. It didn’t make his departure any easier. This time though, she was at least awake to say goodbye. He’d begged her not to watch, but in the end she couldn’t turn her eyes away as the fog enveloped him and he disappeared again as though he had never been.
There was no guarantee that he would ever return. There was also no way that she could find to join him. The heartache of the time between would be excruciating and she knew it. The joy of their reunion, should they get one, would be worth it, but she still pined for a way to change it. She opened her calendar to 2017, and marked the countdown, day by day, until the next thin veil.
Chapter 13
Holden paced the deck of the tug. He knew the veil was thinning, as little by little, the silhouette of Savannah was being revealed to him beyond the mist. How he knew the rest of what he had come to know, he couldn’t say. Esme’s parents had passed in the time since he had seen her. He knew her mother had gone first, relatively soon after he had left her last. Her father had died from a broken heart within weeks of her mother. He’d been devastated to know it, but been unable to go to her and offer any comfort.
He’d cursed himself a selfish bastard for the track of his thoughts ever since. Though he had no way of knowing one way or the other, his most desperate wish was that one of two things be true. Either a, he be allowed to remain this time. Or b, that she be allowed to return with him. He was plagued by the idea of her remaining behind alone.