Lost at Sea

Jasper James looked out over the port of some colony in Virginia with disdain.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like what he saw; no, a part of him longed for solid ground and a stable bed to sleep in, with nice feathery pillows and a warm blanket. He liked the look of the streets, bustling with people. Ladies in large, billowy skirts and their hair pinned up elegantly. The courting men smiling adoringly at their partners sent a spasm of pain through his chest.

Once upon a time, Jasper James had looked at a certain girl the exact same way.

Be careful! He wanted to shout at them as they meandered by. In the blink of an eye, everything could be ripped away from you. But, of course, he held his tongue and busied himself with the mooring of the ship.

“Mr. James?” Said a loud, booming voice behind him. Jasper straightened almost immediately, recognizing the ship’s captain’s voice. “That’ll do nicely, son. How’s about you join my family and I for some dinner tonight?”

“You know I can’t do that, sir,” Jasper replied. He ducked his head bashfully. “I have to catch another ship before the tides roll out.”

“Bah,” grunted the captain. “How long has it been since you’ve slept on solid ground, boy? Five years? Six?”

“Ten years, four months, two weeks, and 3 days, sir,” Jasper corrected.

“But who’s counting?” He chuckled. He clapped Jasper on the shoulder fondly. “Very well. I pray you find solace soon, my boy. I’ve never seen eyes as tortured as the likes of yours.”

“Aye, captain,” he mumbled, glancing up at the azure sky. A few clouds floated lazily across the expanse, but it seemed pretty clear. He let the warmth of the sun warm the very roots of his hair, taking in a deep breath of the salty sea breeze. Yes, it was a very good day for sailing.

As soon as Jasper turned and headed for the ship adjacent to his, his faithful companion fell in step beside him. John Elijah, or routinely called ‘Johnny Boy’. Mute from birth, or so the story goes. They also say that he survived a siren’s song, but Jasper didn’t know too much about that. The sirens seemed like a bunch of junk to him. However, that didn’t stop him from feeling dread every time a storm brewed overhead.

“How’s this one look, Johnny Boy?” Jasper asked him, but expected no reply. He had long since given up on trying to elicit even a nod from the man.

The men boarded the ship and offered their services to the first mate, who accepted excitedly. He said that the rumored sirens had taken another ship just a few nautical miles away from shore, and none of his crew wanted to go out so soon. Jasper scoffed as they walked away, shaking his head at the stupidity.

“Honestly,” he told John. “You’d think that they’d realize that even if there was such a thing as mystical man-eating things in the ocean, sailing just after they’d eaten would be our best bet. What are we to do? Stop all trade? No, thank you.”

As he ranted angrily, he threw his few belongings onto his new hammock. In the small ditty bag he carried from ship to ship, there was a hand-drawn picture of his wife that he had sketched directly after their marriage. It was his prized possession after she had been tossed overboard, taking his heart and soul with her.

She was absolutely radiant that day, with her auburn hair pinned up elegantly. A few stray curls hung down, accenting those glowing jade eyes. Her splash of freckles across her nose and cheekbones made her seem so much younger than her nineteen years.

Jasper stroked the heavy parchment once before rolling it back up and tucking it into a piece of treated bamboo he’d bought from a trader. He glanced over toward John as he wrapped his belongings back up.

“Let’s get some sleep, Johnny Boy,” he muttered, blinking to keep the tears from spilling.

They both climbed into their makeshift beds despite the time. They both knew they’d be awoken before the sun had even climbed toward the horizon.

“Rise and shine, lads,” said a voice from the door. Jasper forced his sticky eyelids open to focus in on the silhouette. “Time to turn out.”

Before anyone could reply, the man straightened and strode away, trusting in the two men to get out of bed in a timely fashion. Jasper sighed and glanced at John, who was watching him with eyes that reflected the moon. Cold fingers crawled up his spine and he wondered for the first time if the man in front of him really could have survived a siren’s enticing melody.

They stood and dressed quickly, no time wasted. Jasper skipped his first meal, as he always does, but still sat with Johnny as he scarfed his down. Both were standing on the deck in a matter of minutes, ready for duty. They stood rigid as the captain strode out, his uniform a rich blue and pressed to perfection. However, Jasper couldn’t help but think of it as uncomfortably stiff.

“You’re all being handed a specific job that I expect nothing but the best in. I’m not paying you lot for nothing.”

The men shifted awkwardly, unable to tell if he was joking with them or not. He paced in front of them slowly, looking them up and down with a certain look of distaste. His eyes seemed to linger on Jasper, but he shrugged it off. There was no way this man had taken an automatic dislike to him.

“I will not tolerate laziness,” he explained, his black eyes dull and flat. His words were lilted with the thick accent that came from Britain. “I expect only the best that you all have to offer and I will accept nothing less than that. If you don’t turn in at night more exhausted than the last, then you have not done your job properly.”

Groans rose up amongst the men, realizing too late that this captain was not like any they’d ever had before. Jasper, however, found himself excited to prove himself.

He forced himself to remain impassive as the captain continued to pace before them, assigning jobs to the men on either side of him. His initial enthusiasm was beginning to die out as even Johnny was given a niche before him. Finally, when there were no more sailors left, the captain stopped in front of him.

“Your name?” The hard steel blue of his eyes scrambled Jasper’s thoughts.

“J-Jasper James, sir,” he said, frowning. The captain’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, sending chills down his victim’s spine.

“Jasper,” he drawled, looking him up and down. He straightened and turned on his heel, heading away from him. Jasper stared after him in confusion, still having no duty assigned to him. Suddenly, he stopped just as quickly as he’d started and turned to look over his shoulder at the open sea. “Swab the deck, Mr. James.”

Jasper’s teeth instantly snapped together as his pride was insulted. Deck swabbing was left to the trouble makers and the newest sailors who didn’t know how to do anything else. Yet, here he was, a seasoned sailor, about to swab the deck. He knew that he was going to swab it like it had never been swabbed before.

Irritated, he snatched up the bucket full of soapy water and the worn out mop, still clenching his teeth almost hard enough to crack them. A million thoughts raced through his mind at once, the most prominent being that the captain was picking on him. He probably should have seen this coming; he did not look like a sailor. His shoulders were broad and strong from lifting heavy chunks of metal from the time he could walk. His hands, which were currently violently sweeping a mop back and forth, were scarred and calloused from the fire of the forge. He was a blacksmith, through and through. Despite that, he had hoped his reputation would have proceeded him.

“Me? Swab the deck?” Jasper muttered under his breath.” I haven’t touched a bloody mop in years.”

He knew that complaining would get him nowhere. His hard work and devotion would have to do the trick. When the thought that he’d be climbing through the ranks soon enough occurred to him, the mop and bucket in front of him didn’t seem so insulting.

It was falling dark by the time that Jasper was finally finished with his task, but the wood had probably never been so clean since the ship was built. He smiled to himself, proud that he was the type of man to do his best at everything he faced.

“What took you so long?” Asked a man in the mess hall with a deep chuckle. The rest of the sailors joined in soon after. Instantly, Jasper’s good mood collapsed in on itself like a house on fire.

“I just thought I’d do my best was all,” He replied, scowling down at his boots. The men of this ship were not easily impressed, he had to admit. Nevertheless, he held his head high.

Supper in the mess hall was the same as on every ship. Whole grain mashed up into some sort of gray goo and a glass of beer. It was rather bitter, but Jasper drank it without complaint. The taste reminded him painfully of all those years ago, when he’s sat at a table similar to this with his wife. She’d make jokes about the consistency of the food, and made a point to flick some of it at any of the men who had looked at her sideways. In so many ways she was the source of his happiness. Without her, a piece of him had been carved away.

“Mr. James!” Called the captain, snapping Jasper out of his reverie.

“Yes, sir,” he replied, standing as the man came into his line of sight.

“Excellent job with the deck. I’ll expect nothing less tomorrow.” With that, the infamous Captain Gordon strode out of the mess hall. It was then that Jasper knew the man planned to break him.

That night, in the gentle swaying of his hammock, Jasper allowed himself to remember her. So often he only tried to block her out, to forget her existence and hopefully regain that missing piece of himself with her out of his mind. She never left him, though. He’d see the color of her eyes in the sea that’s being churned up by a wicked storm. He’d see a glint of her auburn hair out of her corner of his eye, but she’s never there when he turns. Some days, when he’s releasing the sails, he can hear her laugh in the distance.

He never used to be a sentimental man, but after he lost her, he found himself hoarding everything her hands had touched. Her favorite gloves that he’d bought for her as a wedding gift lost her scent long ago, but when he missed her the most he’d press them against his cheeks and imagine she was there with him. The string of pearls that he’d hunted down himself for her was curled up gently in his palm every night as he went to sleep. If he was lucky, they’d bring him images of themselves resting elegantly against her collarbones.

Only a precious few years before his soul mate was wrenched away from him. As he drifted off into his sleep, his mind checked off another day. Ten years, four months, two weeks, and four days.