Sea of Darkness

I pull the heavy cloak closer around me, so I won’t be seen. It’s my father’s cloak. I took it and some other necessities for the journey.

I stare up at the S.S. Falcon. It is huge. The masts are bigger than anything in my hometown. I clutch my locket, and I take a deep breath. I bustle my way into the line of men carrying crates of food onto the ship.

I duck down and enter the kitchens below. I see the cook peeling potatoes in a corner. I walk over to him.

I deepen my voice as I say: “‘Ey. Would ya mind pointin’ me in the direction of the storage rooms?”

“What does a fellow like ya have ta’ do with ‘de storage rooms?”

“The cap’n, sir. Told me to bring ‘im some wine from them, sir.”

“Alrighty. Finley! Come over ‘ere and show this young man where them storage rooms are!”

Finley drops the broom he was using and hurries over.

“This way to ‘de storage rooms it is. Follow me. So what’s yer life story, mate? How’d ya get ya self into this journey? My parents didn’t want me to come. Sayed, I was too young, they did, but I ain’t too young. I’m a show them I’m not too young. They’ll see when I go ‘ome a ship cap’n. Oh, they’ll see.” 

He rounds the corner and continues on rambling.

“Ya know, that there’s a mighty fine cloak. Where’d ya get it, mate? I’d fancy havin’ one jus’ like it, I would indeed. Ya know, once my Pa bought me a nice an’ heavy cloak once, bu’ I fell in the creek ’ ta’ catch a frog an’ Ma said it was done for.., well here ya are: the storage rooms. Righ’ through the’ hallway. Have a nice day mate.”

He waves and walks off leaving me at my destination. The storage rooms. I look over all the crates trying to spot the perfect place. I find it in the far left corner of the room. 

A storage closet. The perfect place where no one would come looking.

I make my way along the crates, stopping in front of the storage closet door. I open it and peek inside. There are rolls of paper, books, and maps covering the many shelves dotting the closet. 

      I go about getting the space ready. I take my belongings out from under my cloak. I have bread, goat’s cheese, my father’s knife to protect myself, my savings from five years straight, and, of course, my locket still tightly secured around my neck. I set them in the corner and lay down my cloak. I shut the door and, feeling tired, laid down on top of my cloak.

As I drift into sleep, I think of my family I left behind. My eyes close.

The next few days pass in a blur. I try to keep the food in my stomach, but it just keeps coming back up.

The constant rocking of the boat is making me sick. I’ve run out of goats cheese and bread. My stomach is hurting, and at night I cry from hunger, loneliness, and my sore throat.

I look around for something to do, and it dawns on me that there are shelves and shelves of books, and I don’t know where I should start.

Most girls don’t know how to read, but my father believed in educating all his children despite their gender.

I take a blank piece of parchment and my knife. I look for something to strike my knife against my knife creating a spark. The spark lands on the paper causing it to catch flame.

I take one of the many candles and set it upright. Then I hold the paper up to it until the wick catches.

A bright light floods the small closet. Living in darkness for the past few days makes the light hurts my eyes.

I scan the many shelves full of books. I pull out “Henry the Navigator; his journey and life story” and look it over. The book is made of leather. It’s fancy, and the writing’s in gold.

I blow off the dust coating the cover and open the book, looking at the fine print. I dive in and start reading all about Henry and his journey to discover the route to India.

I spend the next two days reading. On the third day, I think I hear someone down in the storage rooms. I quiet myself and listen. There’s definitely someone down here. I blow out the candle. I hear mumbling and footsteps coming closer. I try to hide under my cloak, but in doing so, I knock over my stuff. 

I hear him say: “Darn, stupid, doggone, #*!@#*, rats! I’ll get them this time—  ‘There ain’t no rats’. Bull! ‘There ain’t no rats’. I’ll show cap’n.”

He opens the door, slowly shedding light over the shelves. The light lands on me under the cloak. I see his feet shuffle toward me, and I hear him take his knife out of his pocket.

“What do we ‘have ‘ere?” He pulls off the cloak.

He screams, I scream.

“Ya !*#? Idiot! Wha’, who, wha’... What ya doin’ down ‘ere?! Ya scared the bejeebies outta’ me!”

When I don’t answer he leans in and looks a little closer.

He gasps, “You’re a girl! Hardy, har’, har’. What do we ‘ave ‘ere?” he finishes laughing.

I gather my wits, puff out my chest, and say: “‘Hardy, har, har’’ yourself. I swear if you tell one bloody soul I’m down here I will sack you so hard, you won’t know what happened!”

He steps back a little and holds up his hands.”Woah, Woah. No need to get aggressive. What are ya doin’ down here, anyway?”

“It’s a long story. Do ya really want to know?” I reply.

“I have all night,” he says, “by the way, I’m Cliff. What’s ya name?”

“I don’t know ya. I ain’t tellin ya my name,” I snap coldly.

“Fine,” he retorts, “but ya at least ‘ave to tell me ‘ow ya got ‘ere an’ why.”

I motion for him to sit. He does and as I look into his face to start my story, I finally realize just how attractive he is. His hair is short and messy brown. His jaw bone is prominent and covered in stubble. His eyes a startling green. His arm and chest are muscular. His hands look calloused, yet gentle. 

I suddenly look up realizing I’ve been staring. As I do, I notice one earring in his right ear. Somehow it makes him even more attractive.

“Sorry.., where was I? Oh, yeah. I was going to tell ya abou’ why I’m here. Well … It starts when I was twelve. When I was twelve, my father left on a voyage to get silks and gold to trade. I had loved my father very much. He educated me an’ gave me all kinds of teaching. My father never returned from that voyage. This cloak I’m wearing, this was his,” I say.

He nods.

“Ever since then I have studied extra hard about navigation, exploration, ships, and famed navigators, for I wanted to finish what my father had started. I wanted to come back because my father didn’t.” My voice cracks as I continue on. “Sorry … Anyway, when I was 14, Henry the Navigator set out, and he passed the sea of darkness. After that I had a plan set in my mind: on the next voyage, I'd sneak aboard. Two years later I heard that Captain Queza was leaving, and I saw this as the perfect time, so I said ‘goodbye’ to my mother and two brothers and left. I snuck aboard the ship and have been here ever since. Now it’s your turn. What's your life story?”

“I’ll save it for another time. It’s almost dawn and someon’ might find me down ‘ere.”

“How many days ‘as it been?”

“Seven, miss, you’ve been down ‘ere for seven days straight.”

“Don’ go callin’ me ‘Miss’,” I snap.

“Sorry, wha’ should I call ya then. I don’ know ya name.”

I roll my eyes. “Uma. Call me Uma.”

“Uma. I like it. Bye Uma.”

“Wait! I haven’ got any food left. D’ya.., d’ya think ya could get me some?”

“Yeah … Yeah, I’ll get ya some food.”

I wake up to something poking me. I sit up and punch it.

“Sorry!” I say quickly because I realize it’s Cliff.

“Oww,” he says, rubbing his head, “Having dreams, Little Lassie?”

I proceed to punch him again in his other eye.

He cringes. “Tryin’ to even things out, are ya?”

“As I said, don’ call me notin’ but Uma.”

He takes some whiskey and a sack of potatoes out from under his shirt.

“I had to hide it so no one saw.”

I take it gratefully and take a swig of whiskey.

“Thank you so much! Oh, I haven’ eaten in days. I’m starvin’.”

The next couple of months go by exactly like this. Cliff bringing food and talking ‘til the morning light. 

I hear Cliff coming toward the closet. My face turns up into a smile as he opens the door. 

He takes out the small amount of food he has smuggled. It is hardtack. I try to hide my disgust.

“Hi!” I enthusiastically start the conversation, “I’ve been bored.”

We talk for several hours. I swear I’ve seen him look down at my lips more times than I have at his.

Suddenly he leans in close and kisses me.

My eyes close and I leaned into the kiss. He pulls me close in the little closet. I push him away.

“Sorry,” he says, running his fingers through his hair, “I shouldnen’ ‘ave done that. I understand ya don’ feel like that.” 

Now that I have my brain, I realize that I didn’t mind the kiss, so I pull him back for more.

I wake up to Cliff knocking on the door.

“Uma! Uma, are ya awake?”

I open the door. He’s holding a sack and a big smile. He ducks into the closet sitting down next to me. He pulls out a pair of sailor clothes.

“What are those for?” I ask.

“Well … Umm, the Cap’n told us we're stopping at a village ta trade, so I though’  ya could come along?”

“You Idiot!” I yell as I push him away, “It’s too dangerous!”

The real reason I cannot go, I mustn't tell him. It’s been several months since our late night “moment”. I should have been more careful, but I haven’t had my “monthly” for two months.

I’m pregnant.

“Why?” he asks, confused.

“Because someone might see me, or I might not make it back onto the boat, or.., It’s just dangerous,” I say, exasperated.

“Well, I can’t leave ya ‘ere. Ya won’t have any food.”

I think about this. “Fine.”

He hands me the clothes. I motion for him to turn around. I take off my dirty dress and switch it for the clean sailor clothes.

I put my hair up into the cap, and slip my knife into my boot.

He turns around. His mouth falls open and he stares at me like I’m a queen or something.

“What?” I say, “Why are ya lookin’ at me like that?”

“You …” he stutters, “You look amazing.”

My face blushes a serious red. 

“Oh, stop it,” I say.

I hide under my cloak, trying to disguise myself as a sailor. Cliff has drugged Finley, the cabin boy, so I can pretend to be him. 

As the captain calls their names the men board the small rowboats heading toward land.

“Cliff, Mart, Finley, Sorin.”

I move forward with Cliff and two other men I don’t know. We stop by the captain and Cliff asks: “Cap’n, can I ‘ave a word?”

The captain motions for us to follow. We step away from the group.

“Cap’n, I was wonderin’, can me an’ this fellow ‘ere go off by ourselves, so we can get more tradin’ done?”

“An’ who is this fellow?” he replies.

“Finley, sir,” I squeak.

“Finley … Is that right? Cabin boy, right? I seem to remember ya a little more garrulous.”

“I’m jus’ scared of water,” I say quickly.

He barks out a laugh, “Scared of water, eh? Guess ya got yarself in the wrong profession.” he chuckles and turns to Cliff, “Sure ya can, Cliff.”

“Thanks,” Cliff says.

As we walk away Cliff elbows me in the ribs.

“Scared of water! Seriously?” he laughs.

“Sorry,” I chuckle.

We get in the boat with Mart and Sorin. They start rowing toward land, talking with Cliff the whole way.

When we get to shore we all get out. Cliff and I take our provisions and head off to start trading.

The natives look at us dully as we show off gold chunks.

“‘Ave ya seen this?” Cliff repeats slowly.

They look at us as if we are flying pigs. Having no luck, we say farewell and walk away.

We walk back to our camp. It has been two weeks and no such luck with trading. We have food from the natives and a few beads. Nothing of value. We split up to take baths in the stream close by. 

When we return I feel much cleaner than I did before. 

As we sit down to eat I say: “Cliff, I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” he asks cheerfully.

“Cliff,” my face falls, and my hand trembles as I say, “you know that ‘moment’ we had two and a half months ago?”

“Yeah.., what about it?” he twists his hands in concern, “Do you regret it?” he asks as he looks up at me.

“No! It’s just,” I pause, take a deep breath, and blurt out: “I’m pregnant!”

He looks stunned and he drops his wooden bowl he was eating stew out of.

“Are… are ya sure?”

I nod.

“Ya’re havin’ my baby?”

I nod again, my face filled with guilt.

“Oh, Uma!” he cries out as he rushes over and wraps his arms around my stomach.

Taken aback I say: “So.., you’re not mad?”

“Of course I’m not mad. Why would I be? This is our child, Uma! I’m so happy! Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Is this the reason you didn’t want ta’ come out ‘ere? Oh, Uma! We ‘ave ta’ get ya back ta the ship!”

I sob into his shoulder, and he hugs me tight.

A couple of hours later we are lying side by side on our bedding under the stars. The fire is put out and food put away. 

He pulls me close to his chest, and I lay my head on his arm. He kisses me, sending a chill down my spine. Under the stars, I think of what all this means, and I am happy. I’m having his baby.

The next day we return to the ship. 

“What ya two doin’ back so soon?” the boat guard, Robby, says.

“We were attacked by a beast,” Cliff says, pointing to his ripped sleeve.

He wishes us well and lets us on board the ship.

The next two weeks are heaven. No one is on the ship except Cliff, Finley, Cook, Robby, and me.

The days we spend talking and reading, the nights are spent side by side cuddling.

He asks me where I got my locket, one night. I tell him I got it from my mother to show a small drawing of her face in the locket.

When the crew returns we are sad to part and go back to our old secrecy.

Five and a half months later. We have long since run out of the village food, and now we are surviving off hardtack and nasty water.

Cliff and I still meet, but my belly is considerably larger, making it hard for us to do anything.

Forge, one of Cliff’s friends, has scurvy and several others aboard the ship do as well.

I wake up to the ship rocking back and forth violently. I quickly get up. I know something’s wrong. I grab my cloak and make my way to the door. I don’t hear anything, so I open it and hobble through the storage rooms to the kitchen. 

I hear muffled shouting. I hurry up the ladder not caring to be seen.

Everyone is running around screaming. Torrents of rain hit the deck. People are climbing into the rowboats. I scan the deck for Cliff. He’s nowhere to be seen.

People are too busy trying to escape to notice me.

“Cliff!” I yell, “Cliff, where are you! Hey, do you know where Cliff’s cabin is?” I desperately ask the closest person to me.

“Yeah. It’s down there,” he shouts over the storm, pointing me in the direction.

He hurries off not knowing I’m a girl. I walk as fast as I can toward below deck. Someone grabs me by my cloak and pulls me roughly toward the escape boats.

“Come on! We have to go! The boat is sinking. This is the last boat!”

“NO! I can’t!” I scream, “Cliff! He’s still on board, he’s trying to find me! NO!”

“Yes! There’s no time left!” he pushes me into the boat, jumps in, and starts rowing away.

The others in the boat row too.

“Cliff!”

I panic as the mast falls into the water smashing seven of the boats, throwing people left and right.

The rain falls down hard. I didn’t even realize I’ve been crying.

I scream as I look up and a wave swallows our boat and the remaining other two.

I thrash around underwater trying to grab onto anything. To make it to the surface. 

        My lungs fill with water, and I slip off into the blissful darkness, into a forever dream of Cliff,and our baby, where I will wait for Cliff to join me.