The Rebellious Tide

by Eddy Boudel Tan

  Marcel Lamoureux grunted before disappearing up the stairs.

  The afternoon air was chillier than usual for that time of year as Sebastien walked down the peaceful streets of Petit Géant. He was remembering the smell of Sophie’s skin as he wandered past the brightly lit windows of shops and houses.

  The apartment he shared with his mother was quiet. Ruby’s purse was on the kitchen table. “Mama?” he called out as he set down the box containing the remains of Sophie’s cake.

  He knocked on her bedroom door, but there was no answer.

  “Mama, you in there?”

  Silence. Worried and curious, he turned the unlocked doorknob.

  His mother was wrapped in her favourite robe of blue satin and a pattern of cherry blossoms. She stood in front of a tall oval mirror she had purchased at a garage sale many years earlier. Her back was turned to Sebastien, but he caught a glimpse of deep purple skin before she pulled the robe tightly around her thin body.

  “What happened to your shoulder?”

  “It’s nothing,” she said with an embarrassed smile. “I had a fall. That’s all.”

  “You fell on your shoulder?”

  “I’m fine!” she cried, waving her hands at him to signal she didn’t want to make a fuss about it. “Your mama can handle a little tumble.”

  Sebastien studied her face but couldn’t read it. She put her hand on his cheek as though she knew he didn’t believe her. “I’m fine,” she said. “It’s all going to be fine.”

  The young woman with the dark hair was in the same position when Sebastien returned, sitting on a heap of cushions with a white sheet wrapped around her shoulders. He placed the tray in front of her and lifted the shiny cloche, revealing a shallow bowl filled with thick ribbons of pasta swimming in a blood-red sauce. The plate beside it was piled high with focaccia bread.

  “Eat up,” he said as he took a seat on the floor. She smiled shyly, the first time since he found her, and proceeded with stabbing and twirling the noodles with her fork.

  “My name is Sebastien. What’s yours?”

  “Athena.” The woman wiped her lips with the cloth napkin on her lap. “Athena Vissi.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Athena.” He offered a comforting smile, but her eyes darted to the bowl in front of her. “You told me earlier that you’re being taken to France to pay off a debt. Is that right?”

  She nodded, eyes cast downward.

  “Tell me more.”

  Athena put down her fork and knife. She took a sip of water and wrapped the sheet more tightly around her shoulders.

  “Those men are dangerous,” she said at last. Her gaze drifted slowly to meet Sebastien’s. She examined his face, as if wanting to trust him, to believe he wasn’t like the others.

  “How do you know those men?”

  “I don’t know who they are. All I know is they are powerful. A friend — someone I thought was a friend — connected me with them.” She looked away, ashamed for having been fooled.

  “Tell me more,” Sebastien said, urging her to go on in his softest tone.

  She hesitated, the words clinging to her lips before spilling over the edge.

  “My family owned a shop in Athens. Nothing special. Liquor. Cigarettes. Sweets. The economy collapsed and the business went with it. We survived off our savings while my brother and I worked whatever jobs we could find. The money dried up a few years later. Our wages were enough to feed us but not enough to pay for our father’s medication. Without it, he would get very sick.”

  Her voice was low and solemn. She spoke slowly as she held a cushion against her chest. This story wasn’t going to end happily.

  “He got worse every month he went without the pills. We were desperate. I told a friend about our situation. I didn’t want anything from him except someone to talk to, but he said he could help. I knew they were criminals. I’m not stupid. I needed the money and didn’t care where it came from.” She paused as she grabbed a square of bread and bit into it. “Father died less than a year later. It had nothing to do with the pills. His heart just failed him. He was a good man.”

  She stared at the floor, her face blank. The crying had ended long ago. There were no tears left.

  “All of a sudden we didn’t need the money anymore,” she went on. “No medication, no need for money. I figured I’d have more time to find a better job and start paying off the debt. Easy, right? Not for those snakes. They told me I had to pay everything at once. I couldn’t do that. No way. Then the men said they had an idea.”

  Athena couldn’t stop shaking her head. It was painful to recount the series of events that had led her to the Glacier. Looking back, she saw the many things she could have done differently to avoid falling into the trap that was laid for her.

  “They told me they had a factory in France. All I had to do was work off my debt. It would be paid in three months. They would even take me there on this beautiful ship. It would be like a holiday.” An empty smile spread across her face to emphasize the absurdity. “I believed them. But even if I hadn’t, what else could I have done? I was trapped.”

  “What happened when you boarded in Athens?”

  “They took me to that room and locked me inside. Even then, I didn’t realize how much trouble I was in. It only started to become clear when they sent a man to mark me.” The composure she had maintained began to slip as her shoulders shook and her breathing became heavy.

  “What do you mean?” Sebastien was scared to hear the answer.

  She paused, mustering courage. With a laboured breath, Athena turned to face the wall and swept her dark hair to one side. Carved into the delicate skin on the back of her neck were smooth black lines of ink. Six little circles intersected each other to form a round web of petals. The skin around it was red and raw.

  “It’s Aphrodite’s flower,” she said. “They told me all their girls are marked with one. I used to hear stories about these people, about this symbol, when I was very young. That’s when I knew I was their property.”

  Silence hovered above them in the dim sanctuary. Sebastien didn’t know what to say. The symbol confirmed what he had always suspected to be true. His father was a monster.

  “It’s my fault,” she said. “I should never have trusted that man who introduced me to them. I was blinded by his kindness. I thought he was my friend. He would call me Pallas Athena, after the ancient goddess, and we would drink mastika and talk about books. I was a fool.”

  The stillness was interrupted by the hum of Sebastien’s phone as it vibrated in his pocket. He almost forgot about the message he had sent Nikos. “I’m here” said the words on the screen.

  “I’m going to get you off this ship,” he said. There was fierceness in his eyes, and he could see that she believed him. “Stay here for a few minutes. I just need to meet a friend. I’ll be back, and we’ll figure out a plan.”

  The hallway of Riviera Deck felt unusually cold as he closed the doors behind him. He ran through the empty corridor until he reached the balcony that overlooked the atrium. The sounds of music and laughter drifted through the air from the lobby far below. Nikos stood beside a pillar with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “What’s going on?” Nikos kept his voice low, but it sounded interrogative. “Why can’t we meet in our usual spot? And why are you wearing that?”

  Sebastien was still dressed in the grey cabin-service uniform that was a size too small. The pastille-shaped buttons strained against the fabric across his chest. Curls of hair fell from beneath the stiff bellboy cap.

  “Listen to me. There’s something awful happening on board this ship. But before I say anything else, I need you to answer me. Can I trust you?”

  His eyes blinked rapidly as he processed the question. “Of course.”

  “Convince me that I can trust you.”

  “You can trust me. You’re my Patroclus.”

  Despite the stern lines of the officer’s face, there was always softness in his eyes like
warm honey.

  “I think Kostas is involved in a trafficking ring.” The words sounded ridiculous as they hung in the air. Nikos’s face was blank as he tried to make sense of them.

  “What?”

  “I found a girl locked in cabin A66 in the commanders’ wing. She told me she’s being taken to France to pay off a debt. She’s being held captive. Nikos, do you know what I’m saying? This is human trafficking. She’s being sold as a slave.”

  Nikos’s expression contorted into a puzzled frown. He shook his head. “You did what?”

  “I rescued her. She’s hiding in the House of the Heel.”

  “Oh god.” Nikos stumbled to the edge of the balcony with his head hanging over his chest. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “Do you know anything about this?” It was Sebastien’s turn to interrogate.

  Nikos turned around, the sunlit atrium unfolding behind him. “That’s Kostas’s niece. She’s not well.”

  “That can’t be true.”

  “She has a history of delusions. She was kept in that cabin for her own safety. She can be dangerous — to herself and to others.”

  Sebastien felt nauseous as he weighed the possibility of this being true against everything he had witnessed that day. Nikos stepped toward him until their faces almost touched.

  “You shouldn’t have taken her. That was a terrible thing to do. But it’s okay. I’m going to help you.” His voice was gentle as he held Sebastien by the arms. “We just need to bring her back before Kostas realizes she’s missing.”

  “She seems so convinced,” he said as he rested his face on Nikos’s shoulder. “I believed every word she said.”

  “She believes them, too. She’s not well.”

  Sebastien looked into his eyes and pulled away. His entire body felt stiff, like he had gazed upon Medusa and was turning to stone.

  “She’s the woman I saw at Sirens.” He took another step backward. “You escorted her out through a door in the wall. You told me you didn’t know who she was, that you took her down to A Deck and she found her way back to her cabin.”

  Nikos let out an exasperated sigh and fumbled for the right words. “I didn’t know who she was until later. Kostas asked me to take her below decks, so that’s what I did.”

  The atrium that surrounded them crystallized into perfect clarity. Sebastien could see every reflection in the tinted glass, every vein in the leaves that draped over the edges, every thread on the upholstered cushions.

  “How did she get back to her cabin without a key?”

  “This is ridiculous,” Nikos said with an incredulous grin. “I took her back to the cabin myself.”

  “That’s not what you told me. Why would you lie?”

  Nikos’s mouth hung open, searching for the words. His hands were held in front of him, pleading. “I … I don’t … I must have been mixed up.” A helpless laugh slipped past his lips.

  “What are you hiding from me?”

  “Wait,” he said as a shadow fell across his face. “How did you get past the door? How did you get into the commanders’ wing in the first place?”

  Sebastien reached into his pocket and held up the rectangle of black plastic.

  “You stole the skull key?”

  “Skeleton key.”

  “You took that from me?” The muscles in his face tightened. His shoulders hunched up against his neck.

  “Don’t try to change the subject.”

  “Do you know what could have happened if someone found out I lost that key?” Nikos’s eyes were wide with betrayal. Sebastien couldn’t ignore the tendrils of guilt that wrapped around his lungs.

  “You’re trying to avoid —”

  “I could have lost my rank, Sebastien! Everything I’ve worked for, years of training and proving myself, could have been wiped out because you took advantage of my love.”

  The words stung. Sebastien stood there, turned to stone now, no defence to offer. Nikos looked more sad than angry, the air deflating from his proud chest. Neither man knew what to say.

  “Sebastien?”

  The voice rang out across the atrium, striking the silence like the chime of a bell. He thought it must have been an illusion at first, the woman standing there with skin that smelled like warm butter and lips the colour of cranberries. He knew every atom of her so intimately that perhaps his mind had moulded her out of the air, breathed life into this apparition.

  Standing there on the balcony was Sophie Lamoureux.

  SIXTEEN

  The Beginning of Something Else

  Sebastien graduated college three weeks after his nineteenth birthday. The sky was clear and the sun was out — perfect weather for a day that would alter his life in ways he could never have predicted.

  The school system in Québec was different from what was depicted in the American movies he watched. High school ended sooner, then two to three years of publicly funded college were required to apply for university. The local college was thirty minutes away by bus, far enough to give him a taste of life outside Petit Géant, even though all the same faces were there.

  It was a funny feeling to be both proud and embarrassed. The embarrassment had nothing to do with the silly gown and tasselled cap he wore. It came from how proud he actually felt. He sat between Heather Gagnon and Etienne Guérin as he waited for his name to be called. He would walk across the stage, retrieve his diploma, and know it would be the beginning of the end of his stay in this vicious little town. His legs twitched with nervous excitement.

  The students sat in rows of collapsible chairs arranged across the field beside the school, their beaming parents in the bleachers behind them. It was a warm spring day. Sebastien’s cap wouldn’t stay put on his dense tangle of hair, so he used it to fan himself as the sun beat down on them.

  Sophie’s voice sparkled as she announced his name into the microphone. Being the class valedictorian, she had the privilege of calling every graduate to the stage. Her smile was radiant as he climbed the stairs. The applause was scattered, and there might have been a few heckles, but he paid no attention. All he saw was Sophie and the rest of his life unfurled behind her.

  “I am the proudest woman in the world!” Ruby said after the ceremony. She threw her arms around his shoulders and let herself be lifted up by her handsome son. “My boy, college graduate, soon-to-be university scholar. You’ll be famous one day. Just watch. You are destined for big things.”

  Her arm was linked with his as they crossed the field and entered the cold brick building that was the athletics wing. Flimsy wooden tables covered in trays of store-bought cheese and crackers were arranged throughout the blemished surface of the gymnasium floor. Domed lamps that dangled from the ceiling illuminated the vast room in stark light, except for one rebel that remained dark. Students in their electric blue gowns clustered together in various tribes, none of which included Sebastien.

  “I don’t need to be famous.” He looked at the grey cardstock folder that hid his diploma, its power heavy in his hand. “I just want to get far away from this place. Start over. Build a home where we belong. Just you and me, Mama.”

  Ruby rested her head against his arm. It sounded lovely. “How about France?”

  “France would do.” He smiled down at her and kissed the side of her head.

  Sophie spotted them from across the room and hurried in their direction, slicing through huddles of students and families. Her heels announced her approach as they poked at the floor.

  “I’ll leave you with your pretty lady,” Ruby said with a knowing look in her eyes. “I need to use the washroom, anyway.” She raced away before Sophie reached them.

  “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were a pompous intellectual,” Sophie said with a girlish giggle, her hair cascading from beneath her cap in elaborate waves.

  “If anyone would know better, it would be you.” He hesitated before placing a soft kiss on her right cheek.

  “I guess this is it,” she sai
d, looking around the room with a theatrical flourish in her movements.

  He laughed. “We have the entire summer before we say our melodramatic goodbyes.”

  “This feels big, though, doesn’t it? This moment?” She held the grey folder against her stomach as her eyelashes fluttered. “It’s the end of one thing, and the beginning of something else.”

  He took a step closer until he could smell her buttery skin. “We have an entire lifetime of beginnings and ends ahead of us,” he said, taking a mental photograph of Sophie’s face in that moment, so much hope and promise.

  Twenty minutes passed, and Ruby hadn’t returned. Chloe Villeneuve slithered over and insisted on taking Sophie with her. Sebastien stood in the middle of the floor, alone, before deciding to find his mother. He lingered outside the ladies’ room until someone exited. The heavyset woman shook her head when asked if there was anyone inside.

  The halls around the gymnasium were a maze of corners and closets, the walls lined with bins filled with rubber spheres and mesh jerseys. Pale light drifted from the metal dishes that dangled from the ceiling. He was about to walk through the exit to the field when he heard a noise.

  He knew the voice, deep like a bassoon. The tone was hushed but tinged with aggression. It tickled the hairs on Sebastien’s arms. Then came a voice he would recognize underwater. It was soft, but he heard the fear as if she were screaming.

  Sebastien ran down the hall toward the sounds. He turned a corner and came up against a dead end with racks of lacrosse sticks. Standing there were his mother and Marcel Lamoureux — Sophie’s father.

  The noises that echoed across the Glacier’s atrium seemed to go silent. Sebastien stared at the woman in front of him, a ghost from a past life.

  “Sophie?”

  The dagger-like heels of her shoes sank into the carpet as she rushed to Sebastien and hooked her arms around his neck. He felt drunk on the past, breathing in the unforgotten scent of her hair and skin and perfume. It took a few seconds for his frozen arms to reanimate themselves. He held her as she clung to him.

  “How did you find me?” His voice came out like a whisper.