“How?” She peered into the light, seeking the speaker’s form. “Nobody can take years of hurt away from another.”
“But I can.” The amber glow softened. “Would not your captain like to see you free from your worries and fear?”
Carissa warmed, thinking of her captain. She nodded and wiped tears from her face.
“I can help you.” The light dimmed, and the song returned.
“Please.” She stood. “If you can release me from these fears and worries, I would be forever grateful.”
The light burned brighter and rushed forward. Did she hear laughter? The glare blurred into a polished dragon, its eyes blazed crimson. Its toothy smile widened into a snarl. The dragon roared. “My pleasure!”
She screamed as it leapt upon her, and its fiery breath devoured her.
Carissa collapsed on the bed. Darkness shrouded her vision, but not before she glimpsed a vision of her limp body below. She swam in the inky blackness of nothing. If only she could wake herself.
*
I raised my new head and stretched my arms. Carissa. The name rolled off my tongue. It had a nice ring to it. Night had fallen, and darkness engulfed the captain’s quarters. The ship rocked and creaked. It felt good to be free.
I stood and shook out the folds of the dress. Too much fabric. I grabbed the bottom of the dress and ripped away the cumbersome layers. Ah. Much better. My gaze fell on the golden dragon lying on the bed.
I scooped the statue up. “Sorry Carissa, I did say I would take away your pain and worries.” I laughed and dumped the dragon into the box. “Just not how.”
The door opened. “Carissa? What are you doing sitting in the dark?”
I slid deeper into the shadows and raised my voice to sound like Clarissa. “Hello, Gregory, I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Oh.” Gregory smiled. He undid his belt and laid his cutlass on the table. “The storm is slow, but I don’t want you worrying none. The Sea Devil has handled worse.” Gregory jerked back the curtain with a grin. “Where are you, love? Playing hard to get?”
I slipped to the table. “I am here.”
Gregory started and spun around. “What are you doing?”
“I am enjoying my freedom.” I smiled. He was close, and her body’s desire for him was strong, but I was stronger.
He grinned, touched my cheek and leaned in to kiss me. I slid the cutlass from the table and ran him though. His eyes widened, and he gagged. “Carissa?”
“Not anymore.” I lifted him and threw him across the room. The power sizzled through my borrowed body, and I relished it. Time to take a look at my new abode. I slipped from the room.
Water? I scanned the night horizon. Nothing but water for miles and miles. Lightening snaked across the sky. I shivered. No, everything would be fine. We would reach land, eventually. I sighed. The wind whistled through the rigging. I turned my gaze to the ship. The three spars stood naked, their sails reefed.
“Lady Carissa?”
I spun around. A slender sailor stood near the railing.
“What are you doing out?” the sailor asked. “What happened to your dress?”
Had I been a fool and spilt the captain’s blood on my gown? Thankfully, no. I glanced at him and smiled. “Ships are no places for dresses, are they?”
“Neither for ladies.” He rubbed his bald head and glanced at the sky. “There is a storm brewing, and we don’t need you to add to our worries.”
I laughed, the voice strangely feminine and delicate. “My good sir, you needn’t worry about me. I’m simply enjoying the fresh air.”
The sailor raised his eyebrows. “Suit yourself, but mind the railings, would you?”
“Of course.” I watched him depart. Questions tumbled one after another. How far were we out at sea? How soon would I touch earth again? I gritted my teeth. Why did Carissa have to call me out in the middle of the ocean?
The ship pitched in the waves. Lightening lit up the heavens, and thunder shook my insides. I huddled beneath the steps, waiting for the tempest to past. A handful of sailors scurried to and fro, tightening ropes. Where were the others? Certainly a ship this size needed more people.
“Norvel!” A sailor cried as he burst from the captain’s quarters. “The captain’s dead!”
The others froze. The slender sailor I had spoken to earlier rushed into the cabin, then returned moments later. His glare leveled on mine.
“Get the wench!”
Strong hands grabbed my arms and jerked me from my hiding place, but I was stronger. I grasped their wrists and yanked, knocking their heads together. With a flick of my arm, I flung them overboard. The other sailors fell back, their eyes wide. Their fear surged over me, and I smiled.
Norvel charged. I slid out of the way, gripped his arm and twisted. The bones crunched. I tossed him aside and turned my glare on the others, daring them to challenge me. Blood-lust had whetted my appetite.
“You, demon-woman,” one of the other sailors said. “Leave us alone, we’ve done nothing to you.”
I laughed.
The others cringed and crossed themselves repeatedly, but the speaker took a step forward. “You have doomed us all to death.”
“I cannot die.” But the flesh I stole would. I inhaled the salty air and glared at him. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve killed our captain.” He glanced at the crumpled body of Norvel. “And you’ve injured the first mate. We’re already short the way it is.”
“What?” The anger snarled out of me, the feminine voice disappeared. The ship rocked and groaned. I toppled backward and slammed into the stairs.
“We don’t sail with extras. Space is limited.” He stepped closer. “Or didn’t the captain tell you that?”
No. I shook as the rage coursed through me. I rushed to the cabin and ripped the door off its hinges. Where was the dragon? I shoved the table aside and overturned the cot, but didn’t find the box. The captain lay crumpled against the wall, the floor slick with his blood. I grabbed his limp body and threw it. There the box sat, bloodstained and bruised. I grasped the dragon.
“Take me back.” I gripped the ring and turned. The music sang. The dragon’s red eyes stared beyond me. Its snout remained twisted in its sardonic smile. “Laugh all you want, but your time will come! He will send you to the abyss, but at least, I have tasted flesh.”
The twinkling notes hung in the air, mocking me. I hurled the dragon across the room. Hands grabbed me from behind and yanked me toward the door.
“You’ll die first, devil-woman!” A sailor yelled in my ear and dragged me across the deck. Sailors brandished their blades.
The tempest roared and lashed at the sea. Torrents of rain pounded the ship. I twisted from the sailor’s grip and snapped his neck. The next sailor lunged, and I heaved him overboard. The remaining few fled down the quaking deck.
The ship groaned against the raging waves. Thunder rattled the heavens and my soul, if I had one. A small voice whispered among the roar of waves. No! I collapsed atop the deck. How had he found me? What pleadings would move his heart once more? None.
A deafening crack shook the ship. Shouts rang out. Hands seized me and hurled me into the air. The raging waves rushed to consume me.
The small voice whispered in my head.
To the sea you shall return.
Aborted Plans ~ Lynn Donovan
On Suzie's twenty-first birthday, an abortion seemed like the right thing to do—except it went against everything she believed. She eased up, parallel to the curb in front of the women’s clinic. She reached for the emergency brake and reached for her courage. The brake held firm, her courage was more fragile.
She had to do this. It was the right thing to do.
Suzie laid her forehead on top of her hands on the steering wheel and closed her eyes against the stream of tears that constantly flowed lately. A deep sigh filled her chest and escaped from her mouth. Watery vision blurred her view of the stone building and shimmering tree-
lined sidewalk.
Two sparrows flittered above a nest. Both mother and father worked diligently to feed gaping yellow beaks. Suzie’s heart ached. Do sparrows mate for life? If only I could be a bird, how simple life would be. She sighed again and pushed the button to release her safety belt.
She could do this. Chin up!
She pushed open the door and stood on the cobble stone street. Her knees threatened to buckle, but somehow she forced herself forward. She glanced across the car’s roof at the sterile building. A brightly painted sign hung over the glass entry doors.
A strange chuckle erupted from her lips as she read the sign, “The Women’s Good Health Clinic.” Below the large letters were smaller words of assurance, “Dedicated to women of all walks of life.” Suzie stared at the words, willing her feet to move one in front of the other.
She could do this. This was right.
Her reflection stood before her as she paused for the doors to slide open. Neither the reflection nor the doors moved. She looked at the metal frame but did not see any way to open the doors. A single sheet of paper was taped to the inside of the door to the right. “Clinic is closed until 1:00 p.m. today. Sorry for the inconvenience–Management.”
“Are you kidding me?” she yelled at the paper.
Her purse fell from her shoulder and caught at her elbow, jerking her arm with its weight. She glanced at her watch—10:23 AM.
“Fine!” she said with a huff. Her mind was made up, but still she knew better than to leave. A light breeze caressed her face. An enticing smell tantalized her nostrils. She inhaled the pleasant aroma and turned to follow its beckoning.
She glanced back at her car. It was as beat up as she felt. A ’91 Honda Accord with salvage-yard assortment of body parts in tan, orange, and white. Her life was just as hodge-podge as her car. But still it did its job: provide transportation from home to work and now to the clinic. Her life had gotten her here in one piece, so far. It was all she asked of the car. It was all she asked of life.
The car would be fine parked at the curb—after all it was locked. She let the demands of her stomach and her nose lead her down the walk to the origin of the delightful smell.
A shabby oriental market stubbornly flanked the towering, newly constructed clinic. A bell and creaking hinges announced the opening and closing of the neglected green painted screen door. She took a deep breath. Musty blends of oriental spices, fish and fried food filled the store and her olfactory.
Maybe just one eggroll, she promised herself. After all, it is my birthday. A faint smile creased her lips. What a way to celebrate a twenty-first birthday. Sorrow shoved its way back into her heart.
Suzie’s eyes search the narrow aisle to a glass counter. A small elderly woman stood behind a display case. Suzie stared at her twisted hands as they rested on top of the counter. Arthritis? Injury? Suzie wasn’t sure what caused the woman’s hands to be bent in such a mutated way. They looked like lotus flowers closed up and turned inward toward her wrists.
“How I help you, today?” the woman asked in broken English and a smile that exposed brown jagged teeth.
“How much are your eggrolls?” Suzie asked, eyeing the blanched white rolls steaming on a rack of bamboo.
“One dolla fo spling roes,” the woman said in a heavy oriental accent.
Suzie nodded. One dollar? She scanned the items in the glass case one more time. Did she have a dollar? She rummaged through her coin purse. She had two quarters—fifty cents, three dimes—eighty cents, two nickels—ninety cents, and seventeen pennies—a dollar seven. Uncertain how much tax would add, she looked up. “I have a dollar and seven cents.”
“I fwy flesh eggroe for you.” The woman winked, nodded and turned to retrieve a tightly rolled eggroll from the cooler.
Suzie watched as her early lunch submerged into a bubbling vat of oil. Her stomach growled eagerly. When did she eat last?
The lady busied herself with wiping the stainless steel counter and didn’t notice.
Oh yes, how could Suzie forget? It was yesterday, with Buddy.
*
She went to the single-adults’ volleyball game at church hoping to find him there. Buddy no longer returned her calls or texts so, it was the only way she knew how to contact him. Suzie sat in the bleachers and watched her friends play. It felt good to be back in the church. She missed the days of dedicated attendance and diligent bible study. Lately, all she managed was a Thursday evening of fun and fellowship. Yet, here she was, in trouble.
When the game ended, she asked Buddy to buy her a Coke so they could talk. He was reluctant, but Suzie insisted. She knew he didn’t want to hang out with her. He had made that very clear and not too kindly. Even if he didn’t want to be with her, he had the right to know—about the baby.
She followed him in her car to the burger joint across the street from the church. Perhaps it was her pale appearance, she didn’t know, but he offered to buy her a hamburger and she gladly accepted. She ate every bite. It was all she’d had since cereal that morning. He never finished his. Once she told him she was pregnant, he stopped eating and talking. He just stared at her.
“What are you going to do about it?” he finally uttered.
“I—I don’t know.” She fought another round of tears.
“Look, if it’s money you want,” he leaned to one side and reached into his back pocket and continued, “for an abortion, you know?”
She stared at him. He shoved some bills into her hand. The tears fell regardless of how hard she fought their coming.
“That’s all I can do, Suzie,” he insisted. “I’m sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Well, no kidding. How nice to be a guy. She wadded the bills into the palm of her hand and watched him slide out of the booth. She suppressed the urge to throw the money after his retreating form. He mumbled something like, “Sorry,” over his shoulder and walked away.
She glared at his car as he drove out of the parking lot. Fresh tears streamed down her face as she shoved tasteless fries into her mouth. She dropped Buddy’s money in her purse, then gathered paper wrappings and napkins onto their trays for the trash. She neatly stacked the trays where they belonged and dragged herself out to her car to drive home—alone.
*
“You’ll fry the eggroll fresh for me?” Suzie asked, returning to the moment.
“Yes, yes, you need flesh eggroe.” She looked Suzie down and up, “For baby, yes?” she nodded vigorously.
“Oh no, I—” Suzie swallowed. How’d she know? The woman continued wiping the stainless steel work surface. An odd sensation drew Suzie’s attention. A delicate chiming sound filled the air. Like crystal pieces blowing in a light breeze.
The hair on the nape of her neck lifted. The sound was beautiful. Where was it coming from? She followed the sound. Beautiful images of a girl running through an open field of flowers filled her mind. Pastel colored ribbons of light floated on the air above her head. She turned and followed the ribbons. They led her to a beaded curtain that separated the main market from a back room. Through the curtain the sounds and the images pulled her toward a bentwood bird cage.
Inside the cage sat, not a bird, but a golden statue of a dragon. It was perched like a cat with its spiny tail wrapped around its feet like a pedestal. The ribbons of light and the beautiful music of the crystal chimes came from the dragon. She examined the door to the cage and lifted the latch. It released effortlessly. She reached in and lightly touched the dragon’s snout. The golden scales tingled under her finger. A shiver of excitement rippled down her spine.
The sounds grew louder, the images—more vivid. She felt amazingly joyful. Happy tears spilt from her eyes. She smiled widely. Her hunger and her sorrow were forgotten. She longed to hold this beautiful sculpture. She grasped its neck and lifted it from the cage. Turning it over, she saw the tiny interlocking gears like an old-fashioned clock slowly turning. The chiming slowed and became lower in tone as the gears slowed down to a gentle stop
. The imagery faded from her mind. Her smile faded too.
She longed for the wonderful feeling to return. She shook the dragon, but nothing happened. She looked around. No one seemed to notice she was back in this room. She considered shoving it into her purse but she couldn’t wait. She wanted the joyful sensations to return—immediately.
She examined the gears. What made them turn? She noticed a hole to one side. A key-hole! She scrutinized the bottom of the cage. A glimmer caught her eye in the interwoven layers of bentwood forming the bottom of the cage. She picked at the object until it slid out from between its holdings. She inserted the key into the hole and turned it several times. The dragon tingled in her hand but the beautiful sounds did not resume playing. She frowned as she looked at the dragon in her hand. She had turned the key as many times as it would turn and now it seemed to be stuck in the bottom of the dragon.
A dreary sensation washed over her. Fear filled her mind as she tried to put the dragon back down. She couldn’t release the statue. A hideous voice reverberated in her mind. “Who do you think you are?”
Suzie startled like a child caught snatching cookies.
“Why would anybody want to have a child with you? You are worthless and so is the baby in your belly.”
“No!” Suzie tried to scream, but the words would not come out. She knew the voice was right. No one loved her. This baby was a mistake. She was a mistake. Her life was one big mistake.
“You don’t deserve to live,” the voice continued. “What can the likes of you possibly offer this world except more pain and burden?”
Blackness drew up and slowly engulfed her. “I know. I’m nothing to nobody, especially to a baby.” She allowed the darkness to encapsulate her. The dragon’s jaw opened. Black vapor flowed into the open cavity, taking her with it.
Suzie fell onto a rock-hard ground. She opened her eyes and looked around. Slick black lava, like skin covered with moles, stretched out across the ground. Slowly Suzie stood. Charred black trees loomed over her like ominous monsters in a nightmare. Odd diffused light cast gruesome shadows that moved like snakes against the ground. In the middle of the trees, there was a gaping hole. She peered over the edge. Its depth went on forever. She tripped back away from the opening and screamed.
Creeden, Pauline - The Clockwork Dragon Page 3