Where the Sky Meets the Sea
Chapter One:
"Now, you get the water, you come straight back. No more funny business. Understood?"
I nodded mutely.
Sam grunted, shoving the oversized bucket into my arms.
"Well, go on, then! Go!" He pushed me out the door and slammed it shut behind me. I straightened my posture and started down the road towards the well.
It was a beautiful morning. The sun was exposed and shining, the air was warm, a cool breeze blew, but all the beauty did little to lighten my mood. The days seemed to be getting longer, and I didn't know how much longer I could take it. Each year only got much worse than the last.
I had lived with Sam for almost six years in a cramped, four-room hut, working like a slave. I cooked, cleaned, and did anything else he wished me to do. If I displeased him, which was often, there was definitely some punishment to be enforced. He used different methods, but I'd gotten used to them by now. Maybe things weren't as bad as they used to be... at least now I knew how to conduct myself "properly" while working for Sam. That was something, wasn't it? Well, it didn't really matter. No matter how I was treated, no matter how I behaved, I was stuck there. I couldn't run away, though I'd tried a few times about a year before. I couldn't get help. The rest of my life seemed very, very bleak.
After a few minutes I reached the well at the end of the road. As usual, a few other women were there chatting and gossiping with each other. I normally didn't participate in these conversations, as I didn't really have anything to say, and Sam would fume at me for taking too long to retrieve the water, but I enjoyed listening. After all, it was one of the only ways I could hear about what was happening in town.
As I waited for a maid in front of me to get her water, I overheard one of the women say,
"…I think he well deserves it."
"Aye," agreed the more ample woman she was speaking with. "Is the Lady of the house to attend the ceremony?"
"No, she can't. It's invitation only, but she wouldn't be attendin' anyway, as she and the master are out of town."
"Oh. I hear it is to be a fancy affair."
"Indeed. Captain Norrington's promotion is an important event!"
Promotion ceremony? I mentally repeated. The maid in front of me filled her bucket and joined in the conversation. I let the bucket down the well and continued listening.
"Some don't approve of it. They say he's too young for the position. Why, he's not even married!"
"That much may be true, but rumor has it," the speaker raised her eyebrows for effect, "He fancies the Governor's daughter."
Two delighted gasps came from the other women. I smiled slightly at their enthusiasm before shaking my head, retrieving my full bucket, and heading with a weary sigh back down the road.
---
When I got back to the hut, Sam was in the main room speaking with two other gruff-looking men. I came in silently, hoping not to draw any attention to myself. I made my way to the kitchen, set the bucket on the simple old table, and lit the stove. It was almost time for the midday meal, so I figured I should start preparing it before Sam had to remind me. As I was cutting the vegetables I overheard parts of the men's conversation in the next room.
"...We've lost four in the past week in Port Royal alone. If we get anymore of them out on bail, we won't get any profit."
"Aye, from now on, we're going to have to leave them to those devils. We just can't afford it no more."
"All right. At least we've still got the experts. Speaking of which, how's Andy in Tortuga? Any news?"
"Aye. 'E says it's a good spot. Hardly any authority."
"Same as always, I thought so. Good, good. Round up the raw ones and ship 'em over. Andy'll take good care of 'em."
I could hear a few satisfied grunts.
"Any news in town?"
"Nothing worth mentioning. Other than the ceremony, of course." More about the ceremony...
"Ceremony?"
"Captain Norrington's promotion ceremony. It'll be held at the fort the day after tomorrow."
"Is that so?" Sam said conspiringly. "We should send some o' the boys up there."
"We thought about that, but it's invitation only. They won't be able to get in too easily."
By that time the vegetables were cut, so I threw them into the bucket of water before pouring that into a pot on the stove. I wiped my hands on a thin rag nearby and unwrapped my long, light brown braid, combing my fingers through it carefully before re-braiding as I listened.
"But is it really even worth it? We could only pull off simple pick-pocketing at a thing like that, with so many soldiers around and all. To try anything bigger would be mad, Sam!"
"Maybe... but a little extra money can't hurt anyone. We'll just scrape up a few of the useless dogs and get 'em to work. If they get caught, they can rot for all I care. If they don't get caught, we'll be a little richer. No such thing as worthless money, boys."
I wrinkled my nose in disgust.
"Lot!" Sam shouted. I hated when he called me that. I went into the main room where the men were sitting and closed my eyes tightly for a moment before replying.
"Yes, sir?"
"Where's our bloody meal? Don't tell me you haven't made it yet."
"No, sir. I'm making it. It's almost ready."
"Can't you ever have anything ready on time?"
Why don't you just go make it YOURSELF if you want it WHEN you want it? I seethed in my head. "Apologies, sir."
"Bah! Just bring it 'ere."
"It's not ready."
"I said, bring it. Here." He looked into my eyes the way he always did when he demanded something I couldn't give him. As if he was saying, I'm your master, and you know there's nothing you can do about it. Obey my command. Don't test me.
I let out a short sigh and returned to the kitchen; I could feel the eyes of the other two men on me as I left. Putting up with Sam's power-hungry games only got more and more ridiculous. I threw a pinch of salt in the soup and poured it into three bowls. I easily balanced the three bowls on my arm and carried a loaf of bread on a plate in my other hand. Slowly, so as not to spill or drop anything, I brought the food into the other room and set it on the table in front of them.
"This is it?" one of the men asked.
"I wasn't finished yet."
He grunted, and the three of them began drinking their soup. Sam suddenly plunked his bowl back down on the table.
"This is hardly even warm!"
"Like I said, it wasn't ready yet."
"'Wasn't ready yet,'" he mocked. He hurled the bowl across the room, splattering soup all over the wall and floor. I gasped, as the bowl had just barely missed hitting me in the head. I bit my lip to keep myself from screaming in frustration. We both knew it would turn out this way. "One more meal like this and it'll be a fortnight before you see your next."
It's just a bowl of soup! You have no idea how lucky you are to have any food at all, you ungrateful wretch! Running those words through my mind didn't help any. Sam was always like this. I couldn't let it upset me every single time. That's what he wanted, he wanted me to snap. Usually that reassurance would comfort me, giving me the strength to keep collected, but not this time. I wanted to storm out of the room and slam some sort of door behind me, but common sense told me to stay put. "Apologies." I muttered.
"Apologies. Apologies, who?" I bit my lip, reaching the point of frustration exhaustion.
"Apologies, sir."
"'Sir' is right. Now clean that up. I'm going to the pub." He got up from his chair and motioned for the others to follow him. As soon as the door was shut and after I was sure they were a safe distance away, I kicked a leg of the table as hard as I could and screamed.
---
Sam didn't get back until many hours later, long after sunset. I was half-asleep in the main room when he came through the door. I prayed he wasn't hungry because I hadn't prepared anything and didn't intend on doing so.
"Get me some rum," he said, slamming the door behind him and sitting at the table. He looked incredibly drunk. I hesitated. "Bring me my rum!" He threw a candlestick towards me, but missed because of his lack of coordination. I regretfully went down into the cellar and brought up one of the smaller bottles of rum. I handed it to him carefully, not wanting to make any sudden movements. He popped off the cork and took a long swig; the bottle didn't part from his mouth until he had finished it all.
I stepped back towards the kitchen--wanting to get out of his sight as soon as possible--when he forcefully threw the bottle at my feet, causing the aged glass to shatter to pieces. "ANOTHER! A-" he hiccupped, "-NOTHER!" He looked around for something else to throw, so I ran down into the cellar again, grabbed a larger bottle, and gave it to him. He popped open that bottle and began to drink. I backed out of the room as quietly as I could, momentarily forgetting about the shattered glass on the floor. A small shard pierced my bare foot, sending me tumbling to the floor with a pained yelp. Sam winced at my sudden cry and dropped the rum as he stood from the table. I sat, terrified, as he tromped towards me. "QUIET!" he shouted, pulling me up by my arm. My heart raced in fear at how unbelievably tight his grip was, even when drunk.
"I-I'm sorry, sir," I stuttered. Suddenly, with one swift movement, he punched me in the jaw with a half-clenched fist. Though blindly led, the impact still brought incredible pain. My vision was blurred for a minute as he threw me back to the ground, forcing my hand onto another piece of glass. I barely winced and tried to crawl away, but he grabbed me again, dragging me by the arm across the wooden floor to a door in the back of the hut. He threw me out into the alleyway and slammed it shut. I leaned up against the wall and removed the piece of glass from my foot, tears beginning to burn under my eyelids. Then I shakily ripped off the fraying trim of my apron and wrapped it around the wound. My hand was all right, it just stung a little, but my jaw was really beginning to hurt. Bringing my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them, I looked up at the dark sky that was visible between the roof of the hut and the one behind us, behind the tall clay wall I had my back to. It was so dark I could barely distinguish the sky from the roofs of the huts, but a few swirling clouds marked its existance.
A sob forced itself out of my throat, and the next thing I knew, I was doing something I hadn't done in a long time.
I cried.
