The Marrying Girl
It was a placid day at sea. The sails were crashing gallantly against the wind as the fair maiden approached the side with an expression of anticipation. “What do ye yearn for, malady?” a steward named Finn gasped, as his shoes clicked to each side. “I do not yearn, signor. I do not have anything to yearn for.” she exclaims, as her dress flows with the wind. “The capitain has asked me to tell malady that there is a storm approaching. Shan’t you go inside?” he says to her, studying her deep brown eyes. “Yes, signor. I suppose I shall. Are the Master’s in?” she asks. “Master Clark has gone in for the night, may Master Brent be of assistance to you?” he asked her. She nodded her head, “Nay, I think I shall go in for the night as well.” she says to him. “By and by, milady.” Finn exclaims. “By and by.” she replies.
As the man leaves, she rips off her ribbon and allows the sea air to thrash her hair back and forth, back and forth, slowly and uncontrolled. Her wild inhibitions escape as she runs toward the end of the ship and hangs delicately off the side, gripping only to the rough, coarse rope beside her. She closes her eyes and feels the cool air brush up against her face, the smell of the salty sea breeze, and the splash of water droplets on her arms and hands. Alas, her smile departs as she hears footsteps coming angrily across the wooden planks.
She flips around, ribbon hidden in her hand, and smiles. “Father! Finn has told me you have went to your quarters already.” she says, hugging him gently. “Nay, I am afflicted hopelessly with queasiness of the stomach. Oh but my dear daughter, what in Jehosephat has happened to your ribbon?” he gasped. Her witty mind cleverly thought of an excuse, “As I walked about ship, the wind just ripped it apart from my hair.” she answered. “Quite a wind,” he exclaimed, “, quite a wind, indeed.” he finished. She nodded gracefully as a tall, dark but handsome looking man strolled towards them both. “Ah, milady. It’s quite a treat to be able to see you up again from bed. You feel better, I presume.” he said to her. The man had a mysterious look in his eye always, almost that of a hungry intent lion stalking its prey. “Likewise.” she replied. He chuckled nervously. “Well, I do not believe I know what you may be inducing but I assure you, it is quite the treat, Quite the treat.” he says, now smirking devilishly. The way he had repeated himself now made the lady think. Had he a secret fondness? The girl now persisted, “And how did you fair at Capi’tains game of cards last night, signor?” she asks, tilting her head inquiringly. “Mad’am!” he now boasted heavily, “I won!” Her confidence now in the man was now slighted, “Signor, I mean not to be improper, but I do believe Finn faired the better last night, not you.” she says, smiling deeply.
The man looked at her, scratched his fuzzy chin and smiled. “Milady, you most certainly have a better memory than I. Forgive my pretensions, I mean not what I say most of the time.” he says. “Well my daughter must now head of to her quarters for the night. Do give my regards to the fine capitain?” my father now deduced. The man nodded. Her memory now faded her, “Oh monsieur, may I ask you name?” she inquired. “Certainly, milady. I am Clark William Brent. Would it be pretenous of me to ask the same?” he now said. “Her name is Nicolea. Now, goodnight, signor.” my father said antagonisticly. He seized hold of her arm and walked steadily towards the other side of the ship. “Pa-pa, that was fairly rude...” I whispered. “I don’t care. I did not like that man making eyes at my daughter. Now head off to bed and do not leave until I tell you to!” he shouted with a hush. Sad, the girl pranced over to her quarters, swung open the door and slammed it in haist. “Oh Papa you make me so furious sometimes!” the girl whispered harshly. She looked over at her white linen sheets and small feather pillow and sighed, “I suppose I should nod off. What better shall I do but stay awake and sulk all night long.” she asked herself. But instead of going straight to sleep, the girl pulled out her locked chest and unlocked it.
As she sifted throughout the cluttered mess of papers and embroidery, she pulled up yet another locked chest, except this one was unusually smaller than the chest it had been put in. She yet again unlocked it and pulled out a deep blue journal she had kept ever since her father had bought it for her when she turned sixteen. Her soft fingers traced the black and white photograph of a fair faced woman around the age of 20. It was the girls mother who had passed away as she gave birth to her. The young girl had always kept that picture close to her since she had been just a wee toddler.
She looked up and stared blankly at the wooden walls, as if there had been something special to look at. All of a sudden, her father burst in laughing. “Papa?” she asked, confused. “My dear daughter, I cannot stop myself from laughing! Do you know why, sweet Nicolea?” he asked. Her face had tried so much to stay interested but her mind continued to wander. “Why Papa? What has you so histerical?” she asks, anticipating his answer. “Master Brent has asked your hand in marriage, dear Nicolea!!” he shouts and leaves. Her hands and feet were unable to move. “Married? To Master Brent?” she asked herself. Tears begin to drip from her eyes uncontrollably. “I shall not be married! I shall not!!” she shouts, slamming the door loudly. She throws herself against her bed and sobs til the late hours.
When it is still yet dark, the young woman wakes up. Quietly, she slowly begins to pack up a small bundle of crumb cakes from her chest, a cloak and a canteen of water and prepares to sneak off the ship. Slowly, she creaks open the heavy wood door and peeks about the hallway. The capitains room light was on, so now she knew she must be swift and quiet if she were ever to escape. She tip-toed away from the light of the room and scurried quietly but quickly along the long corridors wall. Would she make it without being found out? Only time could tell.
Finally she makes it to the door out but now had to pass her dear fathers room. “Oh Papa...” she whispered as quietly as possible. She tilted her head sadly and stared in when Master Clark’s light flickered about as if he had just lit a candle. In haste, she ran to the door and leaped out joyously of her great escape. “Milady!!” Finn gasped, surprised to see her. “Finn...,” she moaned miserably, “Uh, speak of this to no one and I shall reward you greatly.” she begged, clasping tightly to her bundle. “Speak of what, milady?” he asked, his silver tooth shining brightly against the light of the mid-summers full moon. “I am taking a midnight boatride. May you fetch me a boat?” she asked, now anxious over Master Brent’s flickering light. Is he coming out? “A boatride, milady? No, no, no...a lady like you should not be alone on such a coarse sea. By an by.” he said to her. She moaned. “No! Miseur, you do not understand. You see, I must take a boatride now.” she argued hastily. “We shall take ship in the morn. By and by, milady!” he now says angrily.
Angered and impatient, the young woman strikes the man down to the planks and stares off behind her. There was movement in the captains cabin. She must move quickly. With anticipation and fear, the girl forced herself onto the unreliable ropes and with a quick slide, she had reached the boat tied down below. Looking up, she saw she had yet to cut herself free from the ropes binding her from her individuality and freedom. She hurridly took out her great- grandfathers Swiss Army knife and went away at the thick burdening ropes. Her brow was perspirating profusely and her mouth stood open for the long time it was taking. Freedom was near, she could see it.
“Mad’am Nicolea! What are you doing?!” the capitan shouted confused. “I am freeing myself, signor!!” she shouted, rebelliously. “That is ship property, mad’am will be made a criminal if she steals it!” he yells, warning the girl. “I do not care, signor!! Tell my Papa I shall see him again and tell Master Brent that he shall find another fairy girl!” she hollered. It was only now one cut away from freedom when the others joined the capitain against the ships ledge, except Finn who had still been passed out. “Dear Nicolea! What are you doing!?” Master Brent shouted frantically, his dark hair flowing wildly in the wind. She held the knife to the fraying rope and shouted, “May ye who be of spirit join me or forever hold your peace!!!” Master Clark stared eagerly down at her, his young blue eyes focused intentedly in hers. She looked in his and smiled.
Suddenly the young man was climbing the ledge and diving head first into the black water with only the light of the moon as his guide. “By and by!! By and by!” she shouted and cut the rope.
She quickly grabbed hold of the seat tightly and her stomach flew heavily into her chest. The young man quickly found his way to the tiny boat and scrambled in. As they waved to the others, the young woman looked over at the outline of the young man. “It makes me sad Papa hid me from you two. You did though seem quite spirited.” she said, smiling.
The boy looked at her and grinned mysteriously, almost like that of his brothers. “I have been pushed far enough by those two. Your courage has enlightened me, Nicolea.” he says to her. “And yours, me as well. Leaping from the ledge gave me quite a joy.” she says, gleaming. “I thought at least someone would try to stop me. Alas, I am the lesser one, I reckon. So...why. Why this way?” he asks. “It is the only way. What? Did you believe womenfolk have choices? You are sadly mistaken. I have not catched your name, Munchkin.” she says, taking off her sopping shoes. “Why do you call me ‘Munchkin’?” he asks, curiously. “I had to give you a name, Papa would not let me near you. He has said you are the ‘rebellious kind’, my kind.” she says, wringing out her long dark hair. “I am Micheal. And what did he mean ‘rebellious’? Oh, so wanting your own life is now ‘rebellious’?” he asks, angrily. “Signor, do not attack me, I am but the messenger, you seek someone far from here.” she replies. “I am very sorry, mad’am. Forgive me. I do tend to have a temper.” he says, now with a chuckle, “do slap me if I get out of hand.” he finishes. “I will do no such thing but signor I will warn you at this, I have a killer left hook.”
The man now laughs. As the night suddenly becomes day, the two runaways find themselves starved and thirsty. “How long has it been, Micheal?” she asks, hoarsely. He stares down at his handwatch. “18 hours, some odd minutes...” he says, raspily. “Such a long time for such a blistering heat we are in. How are my rations?” she asks, lifting her head up from the bundle she had been resting on. He picks it up and opens it up. “Enough for two more days.” he replies, looking in. As he pities her once fair skin, he picks up his overcoat and lays it over her face. “But Munchkin, what are you to use for resting your head now?” she asks. “Nay my woes, fair Nicolea. You shall fare better with that than I.” he argued. Both now looked each other in the eye. “Have you ever believed in love at first sight?” she asks. “Wives tale. I believe in nothing but myself.” he replies, hautily. “That is blasphemy. One cannot believe in nothing. There must be something you believe in. Do you not beleive in God, Micheal?” she asks. He relaxes back and picks up the oars. “Go to rest sweet one. I believe you shall make your freedom by nightfall.” he says, smiling dearly at her. Her eyes blink restfully and close. “Micheal, do you think I am pretty?” she whispers. He stares adoringly at her, “Mad’am, you are a goddess.”
As the day shortens to night, land is finally seen. He awakes Nicolea and points out at the short body of land. “I am free! Oh dear Lord above, You have answered my prayers!” she shouts. She leans carefully forward and hugs the boy tightly. “Mad’am, He has answered more than prayers.” he says, as he bends down and kisses her forehead lovingly. “Oh this is the most joyful day in my life!! I’m finally free!!” she shouts. Excited still, the young woman stands up and dives off the unsteardy boat. “Mad’am!!” Micheal yells, laughing. Her head pops up out of the deep green water. “This is a celebration!!” she shouts to the heavens. “Yes mad’am, celebration certainly! But, this- this is insanity!” he called out, with a chuckle.
Her childish calls for him to come in with her overcome his curiousness. After diving in after her, the young man swims doggy paddle towards her, a boyish smirk on his face. “Oh isn’t life wonderful, Micheal? Isn’t everything just as it should be?” she says, a vast smile about her face. “It most certainly is, mad’am.” he says, swimming extra close to her. Far off in the distance, a whale snorts its great air hole out with a loud blast and then disapears only for a short second, to only return with it’s tail flaring out gracefully and then slipping back in just as graceful.
The two look at each other quietly as the waves ease over thier bodies. One, two, one, two like a dance. Her thick brown hair floats delicately on the deep seas water. “Is it as it should be?” he asks her, repeating her words once said. “It is.” she replies, her innocent spirit shivering from the outside. “Are you sure of this?” he asks again. “Am I? Oh dear Lord, I am doubting my very self...” she mumbles, confused. A big wave emcompasses them both. As they float back up, they once again meet eyes. “Have you ever been to Paris, signor Micheal?” she asks, contentedly. “Paris? I cannot say that I have, mad’am. Why do you ask?” he says. “I was just thinking to myself about it. I’ve always dreamed about Paris.” she ponders. “Then Paris is where you shall be, milady.” Micheal says, pushing aside a stray hair from her face. “Oh Micheal...your darling.” she cried, sympathetically.
They quickly head back to their boat when a the water quivers, throwing them off course. “Munchkin, whats going on?!” she shouts, frightened. “There seems to be a disturbence in the water, come on, quickly!” he hollers to her, grabbing her arm and swimming vigorously to the boat, now twenty feet away from its oringal location. Slowly, the young mans legs start to get tired out and the girl stops him. “We might go faster under water...please do not let go of my hand.” she says, and grins nervously at him. “I will not.” he replies. They count to three then dive under the dark sea.
A heavy pressure expands in their chests but they pursue on,forcefully kicking through the murky deep. Finally when thier lungs almost feel like they could burst, they kick up to the top and see thier boat only two feet away. Tired and weak, they swim slowly towards it. Micheal climbs up first and helps Nicolea onto it, letting her slip onto his lap as she gets in. “Lets not do this again.” she says with a pant. He nods.
It takes another thirty minutes til the two wanderers finally make land. As they get closer, they can see ports with docked fishing boats and quiet night life strolling about busily. “This must be America. My father talked much about it while I was yet a young boy.” Micheal tells her, as the boat smacks lightly against the shore. He splashes into the water and lifts the young woman out of the boat, carefully making sure her dress does not drag in the cold, brisk water. “Will they like us?” she asks, looking around in wonder. “Do not worry, they are but simple folk. Likely they shall open thier homes and let us rest, for sure.” he says, trying to ease her woes with lies. “Oh, then lets start over there Micheal, they look like a wonderful family.” she says, pointing at a tall brown house with a black metal fence guarding the three playing children inside, while the father and mother sit contentedly on two rocking chairs on a white-washed porch.
Micheal smiles nervously and grabs her hand. “Shall I do the talking?” he asks. “Do you imply that I am unfit to speak for myself?” she replies. “Not at all, mad’am.” he stutters. “Then I shall do the talking.” she says, squeezing his hand tightly. He gulps down his last bit of dignity and walks with her towards the house. Suddenly, she turns to him, “I do not know if I can...” she says, all of sudden nervous. “Then I will not make you do it. Squeeze my hand and we shall see if there is a nearby hotel vacant.” he says to her. “Oh Micheal, you are a darling.” she replies to him, then gently pecks him on the cheek. He smiles surely of himself and treads forward rather arrogantly. She stops quickly at a apple stand and gleams up at her male companion. “Oh we cannot afford such a luxury right now, darling. We are tight on expenses as things are.” he says, sadly to her. She frowns when the merchant smiles at her, “Do not be so glum, miss. ‘Ere take this apple for yerself and another for ye friend.” She happily accepts the apples and hands one to him with a shrewd grin. He rolls his eyes as she drags him through the busy street. “Nicolea, we have to find a shelter for the night!” he tells her again. “I know! And don’t be such a ninny-pinny about things...” the girl tells him as she stops and sniffs the air. “Never have I smelled such a divine scent!” she exclaims, closing her eyes. “Smell what? I do not smell anything. You are dillusional.” he tells her. “I am not dillusional! I do smell something. Why can’t you smell it?” she asks, getting confused.
Suddenly out of the blue, a tall, brown haired man around Micheal’s age accidentally bumps into her and startles the young girl a bit. “I beg your pardon, madamoiselle!” he exclaims, embarrassingly. “All is forgiven, though you did give me quite the scare. I did not see you, it may also be my fault.” she reckons. “Of course not, ‘tis the crowd, I fear. Saturday nights are the busiest around here, or are you a native?” he asks her as he tries so desperatly to get closer. “No, I am from England. This is my brother Micheal.” she tells the man. “Oh, are you staying with family here? Visiting?” he asks. “Actually, we are quite without home right now. Our cousins of whom we were to stay with have been held back with a broken wheel on thier stagecoach and are not able to come for us for another day.” she says, as Micheal stares aghast at her continuos lies. “Well, I insist you stay with me for the night. It can get intolerably chilly here at night. And the floor rats can get mighty fiesty.” the man jokes. “What is your name, signor?” she asks, gleefully as Micheal stands behind her trying to ignore the conversation.
Well people thats where I stopped. What did you think??