Page 27 of Found at Sea
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Later that evening, I couldn’t sleep. Taking a lamp and my small leather journal, I snuck past the men sleeping in their bunks and quietly went up the stairs to the main deck. The night was warm, but a slight chill tickled my skin as a light wind ruffled my hair. The fresh air was welcoming, and I took a moment or two to deeply inhale and rid myself of the stale air from below deck.
A merman.
I still couldn’t believe it.
Always having been a lover of legends and myths telling of extraordinary creatures and magic, it was odd that I’d be such a skeptic when it came to actually believing them. I’d seen the merman with my own eyes, and yet since then, my brain had tried convincing me I hadn’t. That it’d just been a trick of the eye or the hot midday sun had disoriented my sense of perception.
But Alek had seen it too.
And we couldn’tbothbe crazy.
The only other person on deck was Kris, who was taking shifts with Horace to watch the ship. He held up his hand in acknowledgment before looking back toward the town. A lantern was lit on the wooden crate in front of him, and he shuffled the old deck of cards before dealing them out for a single player game.
Stonebridge at night was eerie. Torches were lit outside some establishments, as well as lanterns hanging near doorways. But even then, shadows danced everywhere, cutting through the golden light as people moved past it.
A group of men huddled together outside the tavern, all drinking and clapping each other on the backs. Fortunately, the length of the dock provided some distance between us, so I could look but not be close enough to hear them.
I hoped we left soon. I craved the openness and freedom of the sea and the safety I felt from sailing its waters. I missed the ocean spray as the wind caught the sails hanging from the masts and jolted us forward.
Perhaps I’m a pirate after all.
I smiled.
After dithering for a moment of where I wanted to sit, I eventually headed toward the bow. I set down the lamp and journal before leaning against the railing. At the front of the ship and staring out across the water, everything else just seemed so small. A tiny dot on the large map of life.
The tiny dot for me was Captain Flynn.
What did it matter what he thought of me?
I believed everything in life happened for a reason, that each moment had its purpose and led us to where we were meant to be. My fight in the tavern back in Helmfirth led to me running away and becoming a pirate, which had in turn, led me to Alek who was the greatest friend I’d ever had.
And even if nothing came of it, it also led me to realizing a truth I’d buried for so long. That I was, indeed, not like other men I’d met. Meeting the captain had forced me to accept that truth.
And then seeing a merman that day!
Remembering the beauty of him as he’d stared at me and Alek before dashing back under the water, I sat on the deck and grabbed my journal. After moving the lamp closer to the paper so I could better see, I began sketching the man I’d seen.
Well, notman, I suppose. Something greater.
His silvery hair, creamy skin, and sparkling green eyes had been magnificent. More beautiful than any mere human I’d ever laid eyes on. His tail had consisted of green and blue hues with hints of violet as the sun reflected off the scales.
I sketched him, trying to take the image from my mind and put it on the parchment. My drawing skills were not as great as my musical ones, and I mainly used my journal to write fables and lyrics in anyway. But I occasionally tried my hand at small sketches.
“The night keeps you up too, eh?”
I jumped and caused the quill to do the same, spreading the ink across the page in a thin line. Even more surprising was discoveringwhohad spoken. The captain stood near the foremast, only ten or so feet away from me.
Swiftly, I set aside my items and stood. “Um, yes. I usually don’t have an issue sleeping, but tonight’s different.”
Captain Flynn took a step forward and placed his hand on one of the posts. His hair looked ruffled, as if he’d tried sleeping before eventually giving up on it. He wore his usual attire of a simple shirt and pants, but his shirt wasn’t fastened all the way.
However, another thought then struck me as to why he could be appearing disheveled, and bitterness landed on my tongue. The image of one of the whores in the brothel running their hands through his hair while he pounded into them caused me to avert my eyes from him and back to the dark water.
“Why are you frowning?” he asked, walking closer.
“It’s none of your concern.”
