I stand on the quarter deck, the smooth wood of the rudder wheel in my hand. The Morning Star skipped across the smooth water, spraying mist with every touch of the bow. The sun shining high in the sky burns my skin. I shift my hat to shade my eyes. The air is warm and whips my hair behind me. Fisher has worked wonders. The Morning Star truly is the fastest ship on the seas. It did not take long to establish a reputation for being uncatchable. We still have the occasional challenger, but they are short lived. The crew loves it when we do. They all run to the deck and grab a rale rope, cheering when the sails catch wind and the ship jumps to full speed. Boys will be boys.
“Mom?” Little Hope peaks her head up above the quarter deck rale. Her golden blond curls covering her freckled nose.
“What did I tell you about climbing?”
“Not without Shooly.” She humphed and made her way back down. Her little footsteps clomp up the steps. That small girl works so hard to make big noise.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Where are we going?” She squeezes in front of me and places her hands on the bottom of the wheel.
“Back to the mainland.”
“Are we going home?” I look down to see her seafoam green eyes looking up at me.
“Where ever your father is, where ever you are, that’s home.”
“And Shooly!”
“Yes, and Shooly.” I laugh. My brute of First Mate has all but become a nanny for this girl.
“Does he have a mom and dad too?”
“Of course, everyone has a mom and dad.”
“Where are they?”
“Shooly lost his family when he was very young. He was raised by the same Captain that raised me. This ship, this crew, us. We’re his family now.” A sadness passes from her eyes to her mouth and she frowns. Life on the sea is difficult and she has been forced to recon with difficult truths. Men live and die. Pirates kill and steal. The rich swindle and lie. Slavers rob and destroy. I cannot hid her from these, nor would it serve her if I did.
“Do you think the rest of the crew is like Shooly?”
“Some, yes, but not all. Some men make way to the sea because they have nothing left on land. Others, find their way here because they love the sea.”
“Which one are you?”
“A little bit of both, I think.”
“Me too.”
“Is that so? Why do say that?”
“I like the shipwright and I like the dogs around the dock. But I love the water. Does that make sense?”
“Aye, it does.”
“What is it about the sea that you love, mama?”
I stand a little straighter. I look port and see Fisher measuring and testing. I look starboard and Shooly is scolding a boy for being sloppy. The deck is tight, the men are disciplined and happy. I look out past the bow where light blue of the sky touches the dark blue of the sea. They are one and the same, just different oceans. One filled with fish and one with birds. I sail the sliver that connects them. I feel the fresh air fill my lungs and sunlight energize my spirit. I squat down behind my daughter and take the pegs on the wheel just above hers.
“It’s the hope I feel when wind hits the sails and hull starts to glide. I love the freedom I feel when we make our own path. I love that I get to share my love of the sea with the love of my life.” I kiss her on the cheek. She smiles.
Fisher makes his way to the quarter deck. He’s in a good mood, all the men are. There is no better sailing than this. He steps up behind me, wraps one arm around me and pulls his body close. He kisses me on the nape of my neck. I give a little cough and quick gesture. He looks down to see Hope sailing with me. With his other arm, he brushes her hair back with his hand and pulls her back against me. Here in the embrace of my family sailing on the Morning Star…I am home.
I wanted to give a short conclusion to her story. I thought she deserved that. I had a lot of fun writing this story. If you would like to catch the previous ones, you can find them here, in chronological order:
This is a Flash Fiction writing prompt from
on the Substack. The writing prompt was, “write about a sunny day.”
This is an awesome conclusion. Maybe Hope will inherit the Morning Star one day?