This was only the start

In all honesty, I thought it would just be a winter job. When my parents had trugded me to the inn for the job interview. Living in a mountainous area didn’t really give a lot of options for teenage jobs. There were oceans surrounding the island, and I had always been a lousy dock hand. After doing nothing but lay around and think about my next meal during Christmas break, they drove me to the nearest inn. 

I had it in the bad the first few minutes, I had danced around skiing and snowboarding all my life. So at least I wasn’t an outsider, and had some experience. 

Now here I was, fifteen years since graduating high school, and still working at the inn. Eventually, the owner has given me full functioning control, everything from finance to interior decorating. He had no children, so I had come into entire hier control. 

I met almost every type of person in this job, from mountain climbers to couples. The place was almost always packed. Basic things were common everyday, a fire in the fireplace and people drifting in and out of the lounge. It has become my life, buying new carpets, or helping people with their luggage. 

It was calm, steady, giving me income and a place to live. 

That all ended when there was a group of sluggish assumed mountaineers trudged through the door. 

*** 

“Hi, can we get eight rooms? Please?” the first asked, my jaw still slacked from their entry. They had come in, with their shoes mudding the floor, and their barging welcome filling the lounge with echoing noise. I had barely had time to brace myself before the ‘leader’ was coming toward the front desk. 

“Sure, how many beds will be doubled?” I asked, trying to keep the fear repressed enough to not stutter. There was a large amount of dangerous mountaineers, all of which weren’t nearly as hospitable as this woman. At least she had manners, even if they seemed to be more an afterthought. 

The guest seemed confused for a moment, then turned to count heads. She seemed to slowly deflate with each new person, probably debating room and prices. Once she reached the back, a short boy next to her chimed in. 

“Zamira, if it's better, maybe we should do triples and some of us can sleep on the floor,” he offered, though there was a low groan that passed through the crowd. The only people who agreed with him were two other boys, all three resemble each other enough to be brothers. 

“No, we have enough for eight,” she replied, waving his comment away, before turning back to me. “Can we get all eight rooms doubled?” 

“Sure, that will cost you,” I paused, almost gaffing at the price. It was almost five hundred dollars, most of which I’m sure they did not have. I balanced my options for a moment, I could give them a discount in account for moral value, or full price. As I saw the price one more time, my heart won over my brain. “That’ll be three hundred dollars.” 

“Right, here you are.” placing rough three hundred dollar bills on the counter. Why did they have it in cash, I didn't want to know. Why did it look slightly wet and mustard, I also did not want to know. 

“Perfect, here are the room keys.” grabbing the money, and placing eight small keys on the counter. The girl handed one to every other person of the group, and upon further inspection it seemed most were men, except for the leader herself. 

They all walked along the hall, a few stranglers running to grab luggage and bags. 

They sure were strange, but I’m sure they will be gone soon. 

***

After a while, they seem to grow on me. Helping with their articles has given me a nice view of all their relationships. I counted them out as I helped them set up sixteen in total, two each sharing a room. With the exception of one room where the three assumed brothers were sleeping in together, meaning Zamira had a private room. 

Noticing the oldest boy's absence, I wandered around the inn looking for him. Though, as soon as I spotted him by the fire, I was being called away to a different task. 

I watched as the boy rested by the fire, his back turned toward me. I had barely been able to speak with him, busying myself with getting his friends their rooms and adjustments as needed. He had been the one to speak up to Zamira, offering to sleep on the floor.

After a moment of consideration I stepped over to him, hoping I wouldn't startle him. He was hunched over himself in an armchair, inspecting something resting on his arm. As I creeped closer I noticed it wasn’t something resting, but a bleeding wound running from his elbow to the tip of his wrist. 

“Oh, do you need some help?” I asked, just as I was a few feet from his chair. He jumped almost straight out of his chair, dropping whatever first aid he had. “Sorry, here let me grab that.” 

I picked up the items, taking stock of the gauze and rubbing alcohol he was using. Managing to lift it all in my arms, before passing it back to him. I sat back on the ground, watching as he maneuvered the supplies to surround him. He seemed cautious of his movements, glancing back at me every few moments. 

“Do you know any first aid?” he blurted, turning to look at me. 

“Bits and pieces, but I’m sure it's enough to help with your lovely scratch there,” I responded carefully, he seemed like a wild animal ready to run if I spooked him. He was unsure at first, fiddling with a bit of gauze he had been using. 

“Well, if you’re offering,” he whispered, before placing the strip in my hand. I held it for a moment, running my finger over the cloth pierce, lost for a second in the dreariness of the afternoon. Issey was holding the bottle of antiseptic in front of me, slightly nudging it toward my hand. “I’m Issey by the way.” 

“Nice to meet you. Let’s get this started,” I said, grabbing the bottle, and beginning the basics. It became a steady rhythm, dribbling antiseptic onto the gauze. 

I tried to be careful, holding the piece against his arm, waiting for the slight blood to clear with every new swipe. Issey seemed to be studying my movements, his breath against my cheek. I wondered if he had ever learned basic first aid, or maybe I could use it as another excuse to hang around him. 

Once I felt it had been forever, time ticking by the steady stream of the clock, I lifted the gauze off one last time to find no blood. It hadn’t been that deep, nowhere near life threatening, not even enough to require stitches. It probably hurt more due to the lack of adrenaline, whatever this was caused by hadn’t been that long ago. 

When it was deemed clean, and I had wrapped the remaining bandage around his arm, the room was filled with another bated silence. 

“Thanks,” he murmured, making sure the bandage was secured. I looked back at him, his slightly gaunt cheeks, his twirled hair, the way he began to tap the chair in an unknown rhythm. He seemed so different than the other boys who sauntered in, high and mighty with their boards and muscles. Issey was a bit more mature, grown into his own boots, given the role of leader at a much too early age. 

“No problem, it was good to meet you.” I turned to leave, making sure he kept all his gear. Just as I was a few paces from his seat, he yelled back out to me.

“Wait, I didn’t get to catch your name!” he called. 

“Oh, my name's Addriente,” I responded, and he offered a soft smile. 

“Well, nice to meet you, Addriente,” he greeted, before getting called off by one of his brothers. I watched him go, snorting at his small joke. 

“Yes, it was very nice meeting you,” I whispered, only enough for my own ears to hear. 

It took a while for me to fully understand how they all worked, conversing with the crew during their meals. They only planned on staying four days, and it seemed to blink by. 

Issey stayed with me the most, even offering to help with my everyday chores, and every time I would brush him away. In those hours we would spend meandering around, I learned more about his ominous group. 

They were pirates that had ‘docked’ a few miles away from the mountains, though the way he described the ‘docking’ made it seem more like a vicious escape of a burning boat. The ‘leader’ was named Zamira, the daughter of their Captain who had died just a few months ago, making Zamira the new Captain. 

Issey explained the in and outs of the rest of their crew, from the cleaner to the cook. Putting names to faces as we walked by different people. Issey had two brothers, Kenji and Mieko, both of whom were younger than him. The cook was apparently their father, and their Uncle was Zamira’s late dad, making her their cousin. 

Apparently there was also a set of twins I had missed that always caused trouble. They were both quite young, being born on the ship with their parents dead before the twins could speak. Issey had called them the Trickster twins, Medea and Maverick, a girl and boy. I hadn’t seen them for the first two days, but after a while I noticed their little snickers from behind corners, or their scampering feet in the kitchen. 

As I watched them more, I began to notice how close Zamira and Issey were, even when Issey was glued to my hip. Not just in age or size, but in relationship wise. Issey seemed to understand when she needed a break, picking up on invisible clues to the naked eye. Zamira even made sure Issey was always preoccupied with something, never letting him sit for too long. At first, I thought this was quite rude until I noticed he seemed almost grateful for it. Which probably meant that it had its own little story behind it. 

***

As the days passed, a small shadow seemed to pass over my heart. The crew had become such a well rounded part of the inn, giving me joy from morning to night. Even Zamira, though slightly cold at first, had given me warm smiles and a few winks when I was walking with Issey. 

I began to fall in love with them, and maybe even a little more with Issey. 

The settling moment  was one late night, as I stared off at the ceiling. Exhaustion weighing on my eyelids, I thought to myself a terrifying thought. 

‘I always wanted to live on the water, maybe Issey my ticket out.’

I had bolted straight up, trying to realize what had planted that thought, but the only thing I could come with was the truth. These past days had been some of the best of my life, and Issey definitely wasn’t helping my thoughts. 

I couldn’t sleep that night, tossing and turning in the bed, trying to keep my thoughts in order. When it just struck three in the morning, I pushed out of bed in search of a glass of water. As I made my way to the kitchen, I could barely hear hushed voices coming from one of the balconies facing the mountains. 

There wasn’t much to make out at first, just enough to recognize the voice of Zamira and Issey. They were chatting about the boat's repairs, and different prices for fuel and medical supplies. Yet, as I began to creep closer, the conversation came to a twist. 

“You know, she kinda reminds me of your knives,” Zamira whispered. 

“Oh yeah, and why is that?” Issey asked, I could vaguely hear him shuffling from here. 

“Cause those are the only two things you ever really care about,” she snarked, followed by a laugh which I can only assume was caused by a slight shove. 

My cheeks felt like they were burning, and my head had a certain fog to it. Almost like I was dreaming, and just waiting to wake up, for the other shoe to drop and the curtain peeled away. 

“Whatever, I’ll  see you in the morning.” He ruffled, just before the door to the balcony creeped open. Thankfully, I was close enough to the kitchen to sneak behind a corner. 

I could hear Issey’s footsteps recede down the hallway, followed by a creak of a door. I waited for Zamiras footsteps, but when they sounded, they were headed straight for me. 

“Well I didn’t know you were such a night owl,” she commented, from just a few feet around the corner. 

“Guess you learn something new everyday,” I responded, turning to face her. She wasn’t in her usual getup, which was a combination of miscellaneous fabrics and a thick coat. Instead she was dressed in a dark blue shirt, paired with black sweatpants, and of course to miss the stunning long bunny slippers. “Nice slippers.” 

“Yeah, a gift from my Uncle. A wonderful man, just not a good gift giver. Especially for a sixteen year old,” she chuckled, hitting her heels together. There was a moment of awkward silence, where both of us watched the ground. “You know he likes you right.” 

“Really?” I gasped, I mean sure, of course I liked him. The man had charm, wisdom, hell he even laughed cute. But him, liking me, no way. 

“Yeah really, and he wanted me to ask you something,” she responded, slightly laughing at my shocked face. 

“Okay, anything bad?” I asked hesitantly, trying to debate if it was too late to run. 

“No, nothing bad. He wanted to ask if you wanted to come with us?” she answered, and it felt like the world had stopped spinning. That’s just what I had been thinking, a new escape, a breath of fresh air. This was my chance, handed to me on a silver platter. 

With a deep breath, and an extended silence, I responded, “I would love that.” 

***

For the fifteenth time this hour, I made sure Kismet had everything. Keys, schedules, any and everything possible for running the inn. She was my best friend from high school, knowing the inn almost as well as I did. I had called her the night I had overheard Zamira and Issey and then Zamiras offer. It was initially to make sure I was still making the right decision, but then it spiraled. 

She offered to take the inn, giving me a small hope of a chance. The morning, it felt more set in stone. Packing my stuff felt slightly unreal, like I was still sulking in the kitchen waiting for my dreams to end. 

I glanced around the inn lounge one last time, the fire in the fireplace and the commoners mingling throughout. My eyes stung for a second, throat closing for a moment, breath hitched. I have spent almost every winter here since I was a freshman in high school. Yet, this group, this ragtag band of pirates, they twisted my fate. 

Sometimes you can get a really good story, some interesting friends after a long day of work. If you're lucky though, you might get a new opportunity, especially with a devilishly handsome guy. It may have started as a winter job, but it may have gotten me into the craziest life possible.