Ophelia Adrift

by Helen Goltz

  “Taxi,” I said.

  “How were you going to get home?” he asked.

  “The bus. I just had to get to the nearest stop for the Port Fairy route. Besides I’m sure you’ve got better things to do on the weekend than go to the cemetery with me, and I figured I had already used up my favours,” I smiled at him. He looked kind of ruggard and handsome in his work gear, Vanessa’s loss. I wondered what she was like, Holly would know.

  “I enjoy it,” he said, “I don’t get to do the tourist and history thing very often and to be honest, even though she drives me nuts, I do miss my little sister and her constant chauffeuring demands to ballet, netball, softball, the beach, the best friend’s house ....”

  We arrived and Adam steered the car up the long driveway to our house. Our house. It looked surprised as always. Sitting up in the attic windows lying in the warm sun were Argo and Agnes. I saw them recognise Adam’s car and its sound, stand up and begin the bolt downstairs. Adam pulled into the car port and cut the ignition.

  “Thank you, bro,” I teased him. “I really appreciate it!”

  “Too easy. Next time, text me,” he said. “Most days I come through Warrnambool unless I’m off somewhere on a job.”

  We headed in for dog licks and tail wagging, and we checked in on Uncle Seb—he worked at home on Mondays.

  “We’re going for a walk, we’ll take the dogs. Can you come, Uncle Seb?” I asked.

  “Afraid not, but have fun and thanks for taking the furry kids, otherwise I’d have no choice, they’d bully me to the beach. I’ll take them in the morning.”

  “I love taking them,” I told him with a wave at the door. I raced upstairs to change. I really wanted to go alone to see if Jack appeared but I would have to be content to wait until tonight now. When I went back down, Adam was in his board shorts and T-shirt, with an open hoodie on.

  “I’m going in for a quick swim too,” he grabbed his towel. “You coming in?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You know at home, we can always pick the people from across the border—want to know how?”

  He gave me a wry look. “Tell me.”

  “They’re the only ones in the water in winter because they think it’s our summer!” I teased.

  He laughed. “So too cold for you then is it you big girl?”

  “Yeah, I’m a big girl,” I agreed. “C’mon Argo and Agnes, you’ve got more sense,” I said avoiding the flick of Adam’s towel as we headed out.

  All four of us couldn’t wait to get on the beach for different reasons. Maybe Jack would appear while Adam was in swimming, or maybe he would save his strength for later, but I knew he would be beside me in some form.

  We crossed the road and I felt the new but now familiar calmness that seeing the ocean and feeling the sand between my toes brought on. Argo and Agnes circled us, running down to the water’s edge and back to us over and over. It felt so good. I looked around, feeling like I was really opening my eyes and seeing the day for the first time today. How different this was to my life only a few months ago.

  “Sure you don’t want to change your mind?” Adam asked.

  “Brrr,” I said.

  “Right then,” he gave me his towel to hold. “I’ll catch you up.” He pulled off his hoodie and slipped off his T-shirt over his head, I reached out for it as well. He turned and ran down to the water’s edge, all tanned and taut. The scenery was great, but he was insane—it was super chilly.

  I started walking and greeted an older man as he passed me. I had met him and his large black Labrador, Frodo, before. Argo, Agnes and Frodo greeted each other like long lost friends. I kept walking in the lighthouse direction and the dogs followed. There were no surfers and I was relieved that I didn’t have to see Chayse or his pack. Then I felt him; the cool touch of Jack beside me and I smiled. He whispered my name but I still couldn’t see him.

  “Jack,” I said softly. I didn’t want to be the weird girl talking to herself on the beach ... again. “I’ll be back later tonight after I finish my homework and once Uncle Seb turns in,” I said, closing my eyes for a moment and feeling his soft touch and the trace of coolness on my face. “I can’t wait to see you,” I opened my eyes and blinked away the tears. I could have sworn he just kissed me, his cold lips pressed against mine. I know he could appear, but I’m glad he didn’t—it built up my desire to see him and meant he would be stronger with me tonight.

  Chapter 19

  OPHELIA

  I couldn’t find him when I arrived on the beach; it was dark, a cloudy night and maybe that was a good thing so we could hide. As I walked towards our rock, I suddenly felt him and then he was there, holding my hand and walking beside me.

  I’m sure my eyes and face lit with excitement, giving me away. So much for acting cool, I was gone.

  “You did that as though we’ve been walking along together for ages,” I looked at my hand in his.

  “We have,” he said, his dimples showing as he teased me. “I’ve been beside you most of the day. I missed you, even when I was beside you. Can’t say I was too happy with you being so close to the surfer and Adam.” He stopped, faced me, and pulled me in for a deep kiss.

  I couldn’t breathe, I didn’t want to breathe, I just wanted this to last.

  When he pulled away, he placed a soft kiss on my forehead and raised my chin so we looked into each other’s eyes.

  I was teary again. Good grief. I tried to look away but he wouldn’t let me and he cupped my face in his hands.

  “I love you Ophelia Montague.”

  I did cry now and smile. “I love you Jack Denham,” I said back to him.

  “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you,” he said. “Stop crying or I’ll be worried I’ve upset you.”

  “You have,” I declared. “You’ve shown me something that I now can’t be without and nothing will ever match up to. If anything should happen to you Jack, to separate us ...”

  “Shh,” he said and kissed me to stop me from talking. He kissed my top lip and drank in the salty tear that had rolled there.

  Jack pulled me closer and he might have been a ghost, but I could feel his body pressing against me. “We don’t have to be apart ever,” he whispered as he held me tight, his hand in my hair and the other pressing into my back. “Ever.”

  I didn’t want to stop holding each other but I had to breathe. He took my hand again and we began our walk to the rock.

  “I want to hear your story; I want you to tell me every detail about you and your life,” I said.

  “My short life and long after life,” he joked. The tide was out; it was dry and safe. This time he didn’t lead me up our rock by the hand, instead he scooped me up and I wrapped my arms around his neck, watching his face as he so easily carried me to the top and placed me down. We lowered ourselves to the rock and he sat around me, his arm and legs entwining me in the darkness, as I sat back against his chest. It felt so perfect—like no-one or nothing else existed in the world except us two.

  “Can you feel that?” I asked. “That we are the only two people in the world.”

  “We are,” he agreed.

  I thought about my past crushes; it was nothing like this. Jack read me.

  “People will say we feel this intensity because we’re young or because it is your first love and my first real love, but it is not true—it is not always like this,” he told me.

  “I know,” I said. “I’ve seen my parents and relatives and friends’ relationships. I’ve read about love in books and seen it in movies. I’ve had crushes; I know a love like this is not what everyone gets.”

  He rubbed his cheek against mine as we looked out to sea. I melted into him and then he pulled away, inhaling sharply. He closed his eyes. “Woah, you drain me my love,” he tried to regain control.

  “I’m sorry,” I turned to him.

  “I’m not,” he answered.

  “I thought love was supposed to make you stronger,” I said.

  Jack smiled and op
ened his eyes; they were as dark as the ocean.

  “Did you read that in your ‘How to identify a ghost’ manual?” he teased.

  I nodded and grinned.

  He laughed and squeezed me tightly. We sat enjoying being totally absorbed in each other.

  “Tell me your story, Jack,” I prompted him. I turned side-on so I could watch him.

  He looked out to the ocean and began.

  JACK

  “I was born in Melbourne in 1888,” I waited for her reaction.

  “You’re way too old for me,” she said with a straight face.

  “You’re right, I’ll go,” I teased and she grabbed onto me quickly and kissed me. She pulled away and I watched as she opened her eyes, she had a dreamy look. “Don’t even joke about that,” she warned me.

  “This story is going to take a long time if you keep distracting me,” I scolded her.

  She bit her lip and nodded. “Right, I won’t touch you again until you finish it.”

  “Sure you won’t,” I teased. I didn’t want her watching me; it’s a hard story for me to tell. I nudged her around so we both looked out to sea and wrapped my arms around her. She leaned back into me. I would have to choose my words carefully, she was still raw from losing her own parents and I didn’t want her to associate me with death.

  Now I could tell the story without watching her emotions rise or Lia studying mine; that would be easier for me—I didn’t go back in the past much and think about my family or that night. I took a deep breath of salt air and recalled my past.

  OPHELIA

  Jack looked pale—I knew I was draining him, I think that’s why he didn’t want me looking at him. I don’t mean to drain him, I don’t know how not too, we just have this intensity between us.

  I wanted to watch his face as he told me the story, but I nestled next to his cheek, where I could glance up at him and listen to his voice in my ear. Straight ahead the moon was struggling to break free from the dark clouds. The ocean looked black; I didn’t want to think what was out there. He cleared his throat interrupting my fears and started his story.

  “I’m an only child, that is, I was an only child. We didn’t have a lot and since the day I could walk and talk, I wanted to go to sea. I found work on a ship as a ship’s boy—it’s usually where a young sailor starts out. Heard of it?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “What did you do?”

  “Whatever everyone else didn’t want to do,” he said with a laugh. “Pretty much whatever the captain wanted me to do or needed me to do. The captain said I had potential—I liked him, and I was going to work my way up. It was a good role to start in because you did everything; you got to know how to work sails, lines and ropes in all sorts of weather and I’d stand watch or act as helmsman sometimes. The best part was just being free. I loved being out on the ocean.”

  “I know you have salt water in your veins,” I told him.

  He smiled “I do in more ways than one.”

  The thought freaked me out a little and he read me.

  “Sorry,” his jaw set. “That was stupid of me. Ophelia, you’re not going to like everything I tell you and maybe you’ll be repulsed by what I am when I finish.”

  “No,” I sat upright and turned. I touched his face. “I won’t be. I’m just ... I’m frightened by the ocean, not by you.”

  He nodded. From the set of his lips, I was not sure I convinced him, but he smiled, even if his eyes didn’t and turned me again to fall back into him.

  “Continue,” I ordered.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he saluted and looked so gorgeous, I just wanted the night to go on forever. I glanced at my watch. It was just after midnight ... hours yet until sunrise, if I could just slow them down.

  “The crew, we all got on; it was a mixed crew from different ports,” Jack described his crewmates. “The Captain was from Timaru in New Zealand and we met his wife when we were docked. She didn’t like him being away as much, but he always said he had a wife and a mistress and at least his mistress was the sea,” Jack said, with a smile. “Most of the crew were single, it was easier if you wanted to live a sailor’s life,” Jack said. “Leonard the second mate was from Auckland, Able Seaman Oscar was another Kiwi,” Jack said. “Able Seaman John was from Tassie, Richard was from Sydney. They all survived.”

  He stopped a moment and I glanced at him to read his face. It wasn’t anger or jealousy; I couldn’t tell. A few seconds passed and he continued.

  “The rest of us didn’t make it—Colson the first mate was from Auckland. He was like a father to me and he had a wife and four kids; Charles the cook was also from Auckland, a single man; Gustave, another Kiwi sailor was single and Robert was from here, well, North Melbourne. He left behind a widow and family. Pierre was from France, he was your friend Chayse’s ancestor and he was married with sons, and then my mate, Larry, an ordinary seaman was a year older than me and from Melbourne too.”

  “And you,” I whispered, “my able seaman.”

  He grinned and pressed his face into my hair. I felt the coldness coming from his body at the memory of what was to come.

  “You don’t have to tell me if it is too hard,” I said.

  “You have to know,” he said. “Am I chilling you too much?”

  “No, I’m good,” I assured him. “Tell me about the last day.” I inhaled knowing it would be harrowing.

  “To be honest, it was so fast and so slow it’s hard to explain. Everything happened so quickly but yet I see some of it in slow motion. Weird?”

  “No, I get that,” I assured him. “At Mum and Dad’s funeral I felt like I was out of my body, watching it all below in slow motion. Yet the days before and after are a blur, I can’t remember anything.”

  “Grief,” he said. “Funny thing. But on a cheerier note, you have to know, I was happy. I was where I wanted to be. But I had already had a scare, me and Larry—that’s Larry Watson; he was a few years older than me—we were both wrecked on the Kaipara bar in a ship called the Emerald in August last, but all onboard survived that one. It was foggy weather but we were lucky that time, we got ashore in boats and not long after the vessel went to pieces.”[vi]

  “And you got back on another ship after that?” I exclaimed. “Nothing would get me on another ship ever!”

  Jack grinned. “You should hear Eva’s story, Eva Carmichael. She was on a ship called the Loch Ard which sank nearby, just off the shipwreck coast. Eva and one other man were the only survivors from a whole ship. Then she got on another ship and returned to Ireland. Now that was tempting fate.”

  “You’re both crazy,” I shook my head, surprised at the pang of jealousy I felt with Jack mentioning another female who was long dead.

  “Yeah she was cute,” he read me, and seeing my eyes widened, he laughed heartily. I gave him a push and he grabbed me closer.

  “Ophelia, you’re too much,” he laughed.

  “Too much what?” I asked indignantly.

  “Too much beauty, heart, brains and too much for me!” he sighed.

  I smiled and looked out to sea so that he wouldn’t see the colour rising from my neck.

  Jack smiled and continued. “Anyway, Larry and I got work on the La Bella and after that, Larry was going back to Auckland, and I was going to stay in Melbourne for a while. The La Bella was only about six-years-old and in great condition. Once the timber was loaded, we sailed. “I wasn’t on the watch that night but I heard the bells and it was ten o’clock when trouble began to strike. It was a really misty night and we were already overdue with the timber load by a couple of days. As we got closer to land, the sea was so heavy that it was breaking over the hull. I didn’t think for a minute I’d be in danger again so soon, but it wasn’t looking good. She was rolling heavily and it looked like the La Bella was going to go to pieces.” He took a deep breath.

  Ghosts do breath.

  “I can’t explain what it was like; loud, dark, freezing,” Jack continued. “We saw a whaleboat heading towards us
coming to help. Sometimes you could just hear shouts from them or from us, and I could see people on shore watching us. God I wanted to be one of them.”

  My breathing quickened as he told the story. I stole a glance at Jack, his face was stony.

  He continued[vii]: “the ship was like a toy ... honestly Ophelia, I tried to hold on; I couldn’t swim. I saw the other men trying to do the same but no one could get near us to help and the waves, it didn’t stop. Our ship, she kept rolling and righting herself and rolling again. We were wet and chilled to the bone. I couldn’t feel anything and it went on for hours and hours with no relief.

  “I saw the lifeboats a few times but they couldn’t get close enough. They even tried throwing ropes but no luck. I don’t know what time it was or how many hours had passed. Some of the crew lashed themselves to the woodwork so they wouldn’t get swept off the ship. We were all gesturing for help but no-one could help us.”

  I had tears rolling down my face and Jack stopped and leaned in close to me.

  “Don’t cry Ophelia, it’s over now. You shouldn’t fear death,” he said.

  “But you had such an agonising death,” I wiped my eyes with my sleeve.

  “Yeah, you can only die once though,” he said matter-of-factly. “It can’t hurt me ever again. I won’t say anymore tonight.”

  “You must,” I insisted. “I’m alright, really, please don’t leave me hanging.”

  Jack studied me, nodded and continued.

  “I was so exhausted and frozen that I couldn’t feel my arms or legs anymore. I knew I was hanging on because I could see my hands clinging to the rope, but I couldn’t feel them. I saw it play out in front of me but I was helpless—I didn’t know what time it was but I learnt later that it was two o’clock when my friend Larry, who survived the last shipwreck with me, and our cook Charles were both washed away. They were strapped to the fore rigging but were unconscious from exposure when it happened. I guess that was a blessing.