Perdita couldn't take it anymore. Without a word, she rapidly and methodically packed a bag, zippered up her old galloshes from winter, put a hat over her black bobby-cut, and threw on her coat. Quietly shutting the door behind her, she allowed herself one last look at 2281 Golden Grape Lane and took off into the night...

* * * * *

The sudden burst of a foghorn caused the small teenage girl to jump into the air. It shouldn’t have, seeing as how she’d lived along the shore of New Orleans all of her life, but tonight she wasn’t taking a carefree stroll along the decks of port. Tonight was a very different night. Relaxing herself, she shook her head and looking down briskly walked into the port. She hastened her pace as a scary looking group of people came into view. Whether they were homeless people or worse, she didn’t know. The city was new to her, and the last thing she needed was trouble while she was running from it. Perdita hugged herself more tightly as she waited in the dimly lit alleyway in a short line leading up to a tollbooth at the town harbor. Her eyes darted from side to side as she got closer and closer. With a sigh, she went to turn around, but stopped. No. There was no way out. This was the only way out; she knew that. Any other way, and she may as well throw herself off of the pier.

And she had every reason to. Her abusive parents…how they forced her to drop out of school and work in a factory for the past year…how her best friend died during his shift…the entire stock market crash the past year was enough to give half of the American population a number of suicidal tendencies. Perdita shook the thought from her mind. Even if she did actually go to the top of the pier, she knew she would never have the courage to jump. Perdita let out a snort. She was surprised she’d gone this far without chickening out.

“Can I help you, love?”

Perdita jumped once more and realized she was at the front of the line. She tried to say something, but found herself completely speechless.

The scruffy ticket-seller arched an eyebrow at the small girl in front of him. “Do you need any help?” he asked, speaking more slowly this time.

Perdita snapped out of her stupor. “Yes, one ticket please.”

His brow furrowed. “To where?”

“Anywhere but here.”

The ticket man shook his head. “Are you sure, love…because-”

“I’m sure.” Perdita set down four crumpled bills and the exact change in a determined stance.

In his heart, the vender knew that the girl didn’t belong there and was only headed into something she would regret within another couple hours or possibly for the rest of her life, as long as she lasted. He started to say something, anything to prevent her from going through with it, but stopped short. She’d paid the toll; that was what his employers were paying him for. Besides, he wasn’t a therapist. “Here you go,” he said, his voice void of emotion. He handed her the ticket.

Perdita smiled sadly. “Thank you.”

“Boat should be here within the hour.” His face softened. “Be careful, love…”

She nodded and turned, thoughtfully sauntering to the edge of the port to gaze out into the midnight blue ocean. So deep, so uncertain, so untamed.

It reminded her of herself.

* * * * *

On the other side of the pier a seafarer in his mid-seventies gave a shuddering sigh as he once again strolled down the wharf he had come to know so well. So many memories, so many good times, so many faces, feelings, and epiphanies experiences on this one old lonely dock.

But not too much anymore, he thought nostalgically. Everyone he had known from way back when were certainly long dead by now or on the other side of the globe, the life of a pirate forgotten. He nodded to himself. He was beginning to forget it as well. Gazing down at the passengers preparing to board the next ship, he searched their faces. All indifferent, all busy, all lost in their own thoughts. How different it was from back then when the port was bustling with friendly activity and liveliness. Just like…suddenly, his breath caught in his throat. Could it be her? After all these years – no. Reality captured him. The child was no older than seventeen and besides she was long gone. Still, the fanciful hope caught him every time a young girl walked past him in town, by his one room apartment, and especially on the pier.

A smile growing on his face as sweet and bittersweet memories rushed back to him, he walked up to the girl, who reminded him of one he used to know.

* * * * *

A lone lamp flickered in the distance, its ray swaying and splashing against the contrasting depths below. She narrowed her eyebrows at it, detachedly watching it. The light got closer until Perdita could feel its warmth against her skin.

She looked up.

A rather big man with straggling white hair and dressed in near ancient seaman’s gear held the lantern up to his face as he gave her an almost toothless grin and tipped his hat. “G’day, miss.”

She backed away in a panic, trying not to let him see the terror that was encompassing her small form. “Good evening,” she whispered back.

The man smiled reassuringly to her. “Have no fear, child. I don’t mean you anymore harm than the ocean to a fish…” he replied. She looked down, her hair shielding his face from him. His squinted his eyes at her, analyzing her quickly. A runaway. He was sure of it. “Quite a night for a journey…”

She nodded.

With a satisfied sigh, he sat down on a bench next to her, joining her in gazing at the sea. “You know it well?”

She frowned. “Know what well?”

He pointed forward good-naturedly. “The ocean of course.”

“Oh.” Perdita looked away. “No.”

He put a hand to his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Now, what would a girl like you that knows nothing of the sea be doing out here on a night like this?”

Perdita sent him a sullen glance. “None of your business, that’s what.”

At the harsh words, a few minutes went by where neither said a word, just stared forward, both thinking of how to communicate with the other.

“I was just concerned is all,” he said softly. He caught himself and shrugged. “But I can tell you know how to take care of yourself and stay out of trouble, that’s for certain.”

Perdita looked up, surprised. “Yes,” she said. “That’s right.”

He put up his hands. “Why else would you be here?”

“Exactly.”

Another minute passed. “I do though.”

Perdita held back a sigh, growing tired of his ambiguous statements. “You do what?”

“Know the ocean well,” he answered, smiling and this time showing off a golden tooth as it caught the lamplight. “Ate, drank, lived, and breathed it for the better part of my life.”

The young girl leaned against the pier post. “Must have been nice,” she said, making conversation.

He smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He cleared his throat. “It’s not the life for everybody though, that’s for certain.”

She looked away.

“So…when’s your boat due to arrive?”

She forgot and glanced down at the ticket. “Another hour or so.”

“Perfect,” he declared, getting comfortable and motioning her to sit down. “That’s just enough time.”

Reluctantly, she sat down next to him. “Enough time for what?” she asked in an irritated tone.

He grinned, moving his hands out dramatically. “Enough time to spin you a tale of an extraordinary girl…not unlike yourself…”

Becoming interesting, Perdita sat back and listened as the old man began to speak.