6

The same morning was the morning I realized that I could not question myself any longer. I admired Ondine. She was a beautiful secret. My life had not been so monotonous since I had met her. She was always on my mind; her dirty blonde hair and her amber eyes may have distracted me from everyday tasks, but it made them so much more bearable. I didn’t know where I was going but I knew what I wanted. I wanted the warm feeling of contentment inside, the sweetness of falling. I wanted Ondine.

               Unfortunately, the world does not cater to the lovestruck. I showered and ate my breakfast before going to work that day. I set up a tent and arranged the fish on a plastic table when I got to the docks, then sat in a lawn chair behind the table and flipped open my sketchbook to the sketch of Ondine. I furrowed my brow. In retrospect, I did not feel I had depicted her as accurately as I should have; it didn’t even resemble her. I erased her nose and reshaped it, added a bit more arch to her eyebrows, and refined her jaw. I chewed on the eraser of my pencil after all of that, still not satisfied. I was at a loss on how to improve it when a customer tapped the table in front of me impatiently. I checked my watch, caught off guard by the customer. It was already 10:00. I’d been drawing for an hour without looking up.

               “I’m sorry, ma’am,” I said quickly with a shake of my head. I closed my journal and tossed it in my chair, hurrying to assist her.

               She pursed her lips and shook her head bitterly. “Can I get two tuna and three mackerel?”

               “Right away,” I replied with a smile, thankful she hadn’t taken anything. She easily could have just grabbed what she wanted without paying; I hadn’t been paying any attention. I wrapped her fish in paper and handed them to her. “That will be ten dollars even.”

               “Thank you,” she muttered, handing me a crumpled ten dollar bill. I nodded with a forced smile, rolling my eyes as soon as she turned away. One of my men, Ryan, approached the stand with a lawn chair and set it up behind the table next to me.

               “That broad’s married to a fat man with a dead-end job and her kids are dumbasses,” he joked, Scottish lilt to his words. A wide, toothy smile shone from underneath his ginger moustache and beard, and rose up to laughing green eyes. His sun-spotted skin crinkled with his chuckles.

               “That’s not too nice of you to say, Ryan,” I chastised; I failed to stifle my own chortle, however.

               “I’m not lying!” he defended. “She’s a principal’s wife. Mr. Millard, who works at Watercreek High School, I think. I’ve seen her with her kids. They’re annoying little brats.”

               I lifted up my hands in defeat. “Hey, you’re not the nicest person,” I retorted. “I can’t believe everything you say.”

               He shrugged. “I suppose you’re right. How’s the morning going?”

               “Slow,” I replied dryly, twirling the end of a ball of twine between my fingers. “That was the first customer.”

               “Must have been an easy morning, then.” I just nodded and chuckled weakly. I could feel Ryan scrutinizing me from my right side. “What’s got you so out of your mind lately, Adam?” he prodded, crossing his arms.

               “Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. I looked up and met his inquisitive gaze. “It’s nothing important, anyway.”

               “Nonsense! We talk ‘bout everything, Adam. It doesn’t matter whether or not it’s important.”

               “But it’s really not a subject I could even make conversation about,” I insisted. “There’s no depth to it.”

               “It must have some depth if it’s got you in such a tizzy,” Ryan scoffed.

               I frowned at him. “I’m your boss, Ryan,” I snapped. “Not your friend.”

               “Oh? I see now,” he said, rolling his eyes. “We’ve worked on the same boat together almost five years. I’m your first mate. We go out for drinks every night we don’t have to work the next morning, you’re my wingman, and you laugh at my mocking customers. What are we? Co-workers with benefits?”

               I sighed, shaking my head. “Fine,” I retorted. “You have to promise not to laugh.”

               “I can’t promise it.”

               I grimaced. “It’s just a girl…well, a woman really. I know nothing about her and I’ve only talked to her a handful of times, but she’s got me out of my mind.”

               “You’ve got to talk to this girl, Adam,” Ryan said soberly. I was surprised that he hadn’t even cracked a grin. He usually made a joke of everything. My mother could have died, and he would still have joked about her. It wasn’t that he was insensitive; he just always tried to laugh, as if he was trying to escape something.

               “How? I don’t know hardly anything about her. I don’t know if she has a job or is going to school or anything of the sort,” I told him with a frown.

               “Next time you see her, man, just go after her,” he said, throwing his hands up. “Ask her out or whatever ‘gentlemen’ like yourself do.” He waved his hands around when he said gentlemen, and didn’t fail to get a chuckle out of me for that. He shook his head and smirked at me. “She has no reason to turn you down.”

               I shrugged. “I’m a stranger.”

               “Change that.”

               I stayed at the booth with Ryan until noon. We had on and off conversations, mostly keeping to ourselves or tending to customers when we weren’t talking. He’d troubled me with his suggestion. I wanted to make myself familiar with Ondine, but how? Every chance I had around her, I couldn’t stop thinking about how incredible she was; there was nothing else that I could think of to say. I hated myself for being so nervous about something so simple. I didn’t have any sort of relationship with her. What was I afraid of losing?

               I took my lunch at noon. I left the docks and made my way past the gas station and the convenience store. It had been sunny in the morning, but clouds were starting to intrude again. A chilly autumn breeze blew past me. I hugged my jacket tighter around my torso and walked a bit more briskly toward downtown Witchgum. The thought of a cup of hot soup and a sandwich warmed my stomach and brought a smile to my face.  

               I shuffled into town square greeted by the less-than-amiable lunch crowd. The “businessmen” (AKA the managers of factories and the men who owned their own plumbing businesses) were hurrying about with coffee in one hand and a briefcase in the other, minds elsewhere. Mothers struggled to keep their children under control and coddled crying infants. A handful of high school dropouts loitered around the public fountain, laughing raucously at some crude joke. I didn’t really know my place in all of this. Most of the men who worked on the docks brought their lunch. We didn’t get the best looks when we decided to wander into town smelling of salt and fish.

               But I didn’t really care. I ignored the strange looks and proceeded to the quaint café on the corner of Fifth and Saxon. I was greeted by the smell of freshly baked bread and the murmur of lunchtime conversation. I ordered a cup of broccoli cheese soup and a Panini, then took my ticket and seated myself in a small booth. I pulled my sketchbook out of my jacket and studied the drawing wishfully. For a moment, I had the thought that finishing the drawing might be more satisfying than actually becoming close to Ondine and that might end this ridiculous obsession. But the thought quickly diminished beneath an enumeration of other ponderings.

               “Adam?” My eyes widened at the voice. I shut my sketchbook quickly and pushed it aside, looking up. The waiter’s puzzled face greeted me. I nodded somberly and handed him my ticket as he set my food down, shaking my head bitterly. I could sense his confusion, but just waved him off, mumbling my thanks. I reached for my sandwich and took a reluctant bite from it. I wasn’t hungry anymore, and the food didn’t warm me as it had earlier. I worked my way through it despite my disposition, not wanting to feel faint later today.

               “Adam?” I didn’t look up as frantically this time, assuming it was just a waitress or something. I turned my head slowly, mouth full of sandwich. Ondine’s face was in front of mine, and I nearly choked on my food. I quickly swallowed the food in my mouth.

               “Ondine,” I said breathlessly, covering my mouth. I was so insecure around her and I hated it. “What are you doing here?”

               “I was just getting coffee,” she answered, taking a seat across from me. “I just woke up and I have an awful hangover.” She grimaced, clutching her coffee close to her. She smelled of smoke and her hands trembled.

               “Oh, of course,” I said, shaking my head and squeezing the bridge of my nose. “I’m sorry, I’ve had a long morning.”

               “I don’t envy you,” she said with a chuckle. “I’d hate to have to wake up earlier than eleven.”

               “I do have to make my living, you know,” I said, looking back up at her.

               “Of course.”  She shook her head. “I wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

               “No, no,” I stuttered frantically. “I didn’t mean it that way.” Oh, god. Have I already mucked this up?

               A puzzled look struck her doe eyes. “I’m not upset,” she responded, tilting her head. She smiled compassionately. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Adam.”

               I sighed and smiled weakly. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I’m out of my wits since I… these past few days, I mean.”

               “Is your work stressful?” she asked so obliviously, tucking her hair behind her ear out of her face.

               “You could say that,” I lied. I looked down at my soup in a moment of contemplation, then back up at her. “Would you like to go to sea today?”

               Her eyes widened and she sat back with a gape. “I-I don’t know,” she stuttered. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

               The Adam I knew then would have listened to her and let her go on her day without me. But this ambitious stranger overwhelmed me. “You slept in my house and left in the morning untouched,” I told her. “And I’ve been going to sea since I was sixteen, sailing since I was eighteen. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

               Worry had taken a film over her eyes, but beneath I could see excitement. I stood up and held out my hand. She looked at my hand, then up at me, and then away. I watched her grind her jaw and her eyebrows change positions until at last she gave in and took my head. She picked up my sketchbook and held it out to me, and I quickly took it and put it in my jacket. I suppose my possessiveness frightened her, but what else was I supposed to do? I could not let her see that sketch. She would be so afraid of me.

               We walked to back to the docks in silence. I wished she would break it. I was too nervous; too preoccupied to say anything that would make any sense. Her complexion was washed out by the overcast but her amber eyes still shone like gold, and I wasn’t sure how she could be so beautiful. I wasn’t thinking anymore. I was just acting on the advice that Ryan had given me and hoping to the lord that it wouldn’t fail me.

               We reached the docks and the smell of fish and salt was like a slap in the face from reality. I turned to Ondine, a look of disbelief surely on my face. She shrugged and smiled unsurely. I shook my head and walked over to my booth, Ondine trailing behind me. Ryan was tying knots in a piece of twine, off in some distant world in his head. I waved to him, but didn’t get any reaction. “Ryan!”

               He suddenly perked up and fell out of his chair. “I didn’t notice you, dammit!” he grumbled, pushing himself off of the ground. “Don’t startle me like that, you ass.”

               I opened my mouth to protest, but bit my tongue. “Sorry. Anyway, I’m taking the boat out. I’ll let you off as soon as I get back and pay for your dinner if you’ll stay and work the stand.”

               He grimaced at me, obviously not keen on the idea. “I can do that,” he sighed. “I don’t want to, but I will.” It was then that he noticed Ondine. “Who’s the lassie?”

               “Ryan, this is Ondine. Ondine, this is Ryan. He’s my first mate.” The introduction was reluctant. Ondine waved shyly.

               “And that means I’m his only mate!” Ryan laughed, throwing back his head. “Nice to meet you, Ondine.” I sighed and turned to her. She laughed at me, and I turned away quickly and shuffled toward my boat.

               “Oh, Adam!” she called, running after me. “Don’t pout.” She brushed my arm and a currant shot through me. I stopped short and my breath caught in my throat, my eyes locked in front of me. I remained frozen for a moment, numb to my surroundings. Then suddenly my trance broke and I looked at her, troubled. She seemed fearful, but for me, not of me.

               I helped her onto the boat, then followed her and unstrapped it from the dock and pushed off. We entered the captain’s room and I shut the door behind us. Ondine looked around the small room, gazing at the controls, out the window ahead of us, and at the walls. I met her fascinated gaze and smiled at her. She blushed and looked away, quickly taking a seat next to the captain’s chair. I sat down as well and slid my key into the ignition. Before starting the boat, I turned to her. “Are you ready?” I asked. She nodded, but the way her arms were folded over her chest, I could tell she was afraid. I smirked, looking down at the wheel, then back over at her.

               “You can trust me.”