Chapter 11
The soft ground molded under Tabitha's feet and the falling raindrops pounded down on her. She pulled her flowered shawl over her head and ran down the street. The salty waters rumbled around the docks. As she neared the shore the rain lessened to a light mist. The cool breeze ruffled her damp skirt. She slowly took a seat on the wooden planks. Her feet dangled off the edge and the water slightly skimmed her healed boots.
The shouts of foreign sailors echoed among her. Her eyes drifted out to a small crabber not far from the moor. Three men slowly shoveled up a large gray fishing net. Water trickled down from it as it hung in mid-air. The rustling chatter of the small crabs met her ears. Tabitha sat, gazing out to the Atlantic of the longest time as she waited for Emil to return.
Not long after 12:30 he arrived, along with her green suitcase. "Let me show you de ship," he said, taking her hand and leading her down the winding, crooked pathway of the dock. They stopped. "Here she is."
"Gulligan," Tabitha sighed. Mr. Pearsons stood scowling on the starboard side of the ship. He seemed to be keeping order amongst the sailors as they did their chores before the ship was to set sail. The men appeared to fear the man. This gave a nice comfort to Tabitha, by easing her fears of mutiny. I have been reading too many novels, she thought to herself.
"I got you something," Emil said.
Tabitha frowned. "Oh, no, you shouldn't have.
He shook his head and forced a brown parcel into her arms. "You can't open it until you are on the ship, of course." He smiled, gleefully.
She set down the items from her arms and reached up to give him a hug. "Thank you so much for everything," she whispered.
He sighed and pulled away. "It was a pleasure being in your company."
She smiled, wiping away her silent teardrops, "The pleasure was mine."
Emil's eyes never left the young miss, even until the ship had left the port. Her eyes sparkled as she clung to the ship's rails. He continued to wave until Gulligan was no longer visible on the vast horizon.
Tabitha's cheeks had become rosy vibrant from the piercing, salty, Atlantic air. Emil was no longer in view, nor was the Setubal port, so she decided to search for her cabin.
The oak door slowly creaked open to reveal a tiny compartment that she would be staying in for the next month or two. She glanced to her suitcase and then to the package that she had laid on the bed. Tabitha carefully unwrapped the stiff paper to reveal the most beautiful thing that she had ever laid eyes on, a hat. She traced her fingers along the scarlet, delicate satin and lace. Then up thee large, fluffy feather that stuck out one side.
There was a note among the wrapping.
I hear that this is the fashion in America.
Emil
"Oh, Emil," she giggled as she slowly adjusted the bonnet atop her coiffure. Tabitha twirled around with a great sense of elegance. She had begun to think of her parable in a new light. She would soon be in America.