Harry's sudden stop had jolted Gemma and she stumbled a bit. Harry steadied her. Shannon and Aminah jostled into them from behind.
Gemma drew a question mark on the back of his hand. Harry could hear the people behind them, who were stuck in the corridor behind them, asking what was going on. He heard Tony say, "What's the holdup?"
Gemma tugged on his hand, and he stepped forward letting her lead him out onto the deck more. He felt a little shaky in his knees, and he muttered, "I don't want to go down the gangplank."
He could hear the paper fluttering in the humid breeze, but was pretty sure that Gemma hadn't seen it because she didn't acknowledge it at all. They stopped and Harry could feel the railing at his back. He reached out for it—his fingertips gliding over the well-worn wood. He was a little surprised that it felt so real after Healer Jordan's explanation of where they were—inside a painting that was also the memories of several wixen.
How does it feel so solid and timeworn?
He'd felt a little nauseous ever since they came through the portrait and was glad to be out on the deck with air moving around, but the rocking of the ship wasn't helping settle his stomach. He did want to be on land, but he just didn't want to go down that gangplank. Going up it was hard enough, but he had been leaning into it. Going down, he felt certain he'd just step off the edge… into nothingness as far as he was concerned.
Gemma drew the question mark on his hand again. Harry was embarrassed, he could feel the heat seeping into his neck and snaking up to his ears.
"The gangplank," he stopped. "I don't want to go down the gangplank," he said, his head heavy. Gemma stroked his hand in a soothing way.
He heard Aminah's staff and guessed that Shannon had followed them over.
"What's going on?" Shannon and Aminah asked almost in unison.
Harry groaned. He really didn't want an audience. They waited patiently, though, and the silence was almost as hard to bear, "I just don't want to go down that gangplank again."
"Oh, yeah," Aminah sighed, sounding relieved. "Maybe there's another way down?" she wondered.
Harry could hear Shannon and Gemma signing to each other and wondered what they were saying.
They are probably talking about me, he felt the warmth of shame spread across his chest and neck.
His legs were trembling and he was afraid they weren't going to support him. He slid down the deck wall to the weathered floorboards. He traced the spiraling grain of a knot beneath his fingers. His heart was threatening to push out of his chest. He listened to the sounds of Gemma and Shannon's conversation. He wondered why Shannon didn't speak out loud when she was signing to Gemma. He felt rankled and unsettled; inexplicably annoyed with Gemma for talking to Shannon.
"Harry?" Aminah said from above him.
"I'm down here," he told her, unable to conceal his irritation.
Aminah's staff poked his foot gently.
"Oh, sorry. There you are. I thought maybe you'd left," Aminah said as she used her staff to make sure the spot next to him was open and tapped her staff three times on the deck to collapse it.
She seemed determined to ignore his prickliness. He could hear her hands on the wood railing and then she lowered herself down carefully next to him, surprising him when she fell against him momentarily as the boat rolled, then righting herself.
They sat quietly for a bit. It was really hot. Harry was sweating and he wasn't even moving. He pulled off his jumper and stuffed it in his staff.
Harry could feel people's footsteps through the floorboards beneath him and turned his head in the direction of someone approaching their little group.
"What are you doing here?" Tony asked as he approached. "Why aren't you queuing up to go down the gangplank with everyone else?"
Harry shook his head glumly.
"What?" Tony questioned, "You're not going now? After everything we did to get here?"
"I dunno," Harry mumbled.
"Harry doesn't want to go down the gangplank," Aminah explained.
Harry was annoyed that she told Tony. It made him sound like a little, whiny kid and he felt the back of his neck get hot. He pressed his hands to the deck.
Though, maybe it isn't too far off the mark, he admitted to himself.
"Come on, Harry. You can lean on me. We can help each other again," Tony cajoled.
Harry gave a half hearted smile.
More footsteps approached them.
"Are you kids okay?" Adam asked, "It looks like it's our turn to go down to the shore. Do you need some help?"
"Oi!" Tony exlaimed.
"It's just me, Tony," Adam said with a hint of exasperation.
"Yeah, right. Sorry, mate. You just snuck up on me."
Aminah's voice was close to Harry's ear, "Harry, we could ask them to get Healer Jordan. Maybe there's another way down?" she asked quietly.
"Ugh," Harry hated all the attention. He tried to steel himself. It would be easier to just go down the gangplank than have all these people fussing over him. He pushed against the deck wall, wanting to squeeze his body into the wood and disappear.
"Harry?" Aminah gently pressed.
Someone walked away. Harry wasn't sure who it was, but he couldn't hear Gemma and Shannon signing anymore, so guessed it was one of them.
He let out a ragged breath.
"Yeah. I guess so."
He could feel Aminah moving next to him, her legs brushing against his as she stood up.
"Hi?" she said shyly to someone.
"Hi, I'm Adam and this is Fitz," Adam introduced himself to Aminah.
"I'm Aminah," Aminah offered, "Harry doesn't want to go down the gangplank again. Do you know if Healer Jordan is nearby? Can you get her? Maybe there's another way down?"
"Oh, yes. I see her just over there. I'll go get her. Fitz, you're okay to stay here, right?" Adam replied.
"Yes, that's fine," Fitz responded, stepping closer to the group. "So, Aminah… have you heard of Lieutenant Holman before today?"
"Oh, no, sir. I haven't."
Harry tuned out of their conversation; he was starting to feel hemmed in and decided that he'd rather stand up. His legs didn't feel quite so unsteady anymore. He took in a deep breath and used the side of the ship to pull himself up. Gemma put her hand on his, tucking her fingers under his palm and pulling up a little. He offered his palm to her.
Fitz was telling Aminah about some research he'd done before he came to the center, but Harry couldn't focus on it.
"F-E-E-L-I-N-G" space "B-E-T-T-E-R-?" she asked him.
He nodded slightly in response, but frowned a bit.
"S-H-A-N-N-O-N" space "G-E-T" space "H. J." she told him.
"F-I-N-D" space "O-T-H-E-R" space "W-A-Y" space "D-O-W-N".
"Oh, that's what Adam is doing, too," Harry said as he felt her turning to look.
Harry's stomach lurched—the nauseous feeling he had earlier was coming back. He felt really unsettled and trapped. He tried to still the tremor in his hand as it rested in Gemma's hand. He had an urge to runaway.
I can't even run away… to where—an island in the African tropics in 1827? I'd still have to go down the gangplank! He thought.
Gemma walked her fingers across Harry's palm. At first, he wasn't sure what she was doing, and then he heard footsteps approaching them.
Ah, Healer Jordan is coming over.
"Hi, Harry," Healer Jordan greeted from a few paces away as she approached.
"Hi."
"I understand that you're feeling nervous about going down the gangplank."
Harry nodded tightly. His eyes pricked as if they were threatening to tear up.
No! He told himself firmly. No crying. Gah!
He swallowed down the tears. It was bad enough that everyone was milling around him like a fragile child.
"What is it about the gangplank that's causing you pause?" Healer Jordan asked.
Harry balked at this question—his eyes widening.
Isn't it obvious?! His insides were shouting, but he couldn't bring himself to be disrespectful to Healer Jordan.
"Do I have to say it in front of everyone," he mumbled.
"What was that?" Healer Jordan asked, leaning in close.
He couldn't believe she was being so obtuse. "I just don't want to go down it."
"I've talked to… ah, here he is now… " Healer Jordan had turned away from Harry and Harry heard a cane with a metal tip sounding on the wooden deck as it approached. It didn't sound like it was being used for support though, even though the person walking toward them had uneven footsteps.
"Lieutenant, thank you so much for boarding the ship to talk to Harry," Healer Jordan greeted.
Harry was mortified. Not only was he causing a fuss, now everyone who had already deboarded the ship was robbed of their time with the special guest.
"Not at all, it is my pleasure." His voice had an unusual quality—theatrical and his accent was ancient—like something out of a really old movie.
He moved to Harry's side in an uncanny way. Harry wondered if Healer Jordan had pulled him over or if he found Harry on his own.
"Harry, I would like to introduce you to Lieutenant James Holman," Healer Jordan said.
She turned to the Lieutenant, "Lieutenant Holman, this is Mr. Harry Potter."
Harry had a brief flash of thankfulness that there was no way that Lieutenant Holman would know his history—he was spared that at least.
"It's very nice to meet you, Lieutenant," Harry said as he held out his hand.
Then he remembered that Lieutenant Holman was in the same boat he was (literally and figuratively! ha!) and started to lower it when he heard a slight rustling noise, like fingers being rubbed together. He moved his hand toward the sound and found Lieutenant Holman's outstretched hand with the back of his. They grasped each other's hands. Harry let out a breath of air that could have been mistaken for a slight laugh.
"I am very pleased to meet you, as well, Mr. Potter," Lieutenant Holman's grasp of his hand was firm, but not painful. He didn't let go, however.
"Healer Jordan, if it pleases you, I would very much like to speak to Harry alone."
"Yes, by all means," Healer Jordan replied.
Lieutenant Holman guided Harry's hand to his elbow and started walking away from the group—the metal tip of his cane tapping resonantly as they walked. He was limping as if it was painful to put pressure on his left foot. His stiff wool coat under Harry's fingertips seemed like it would be very uncomfortable in this heat.
"Let us find a place where we can speak with ease away from others," the Lieutenant offered. He guided Harry around the obstacles in their path easily and Harry guessed that he'd spent a lot of time on this ship.
"Here, I think this will do," Lieutenant Holman stated as he stopped and dropped his arm, stepping away from Harry slightly to face him.
They were sheltered from the hot breeze that carried a pungent odor of fermentation mingled with smoke from wood-burning fires.
"Healer Jordan was very kind as to share a bit of your recent history with me," Lieutenant Holman began.
"Oh," was all Harry could think to reply.
"She said that you were blinded just over a month ago by an encounter with a very large and venomous serpent—one of mythical proportions."
"Um, yeah, I guess so," Harry mumbled.
"You guess?" Lieutenant Holman seemed surprised by this response.
"Yes, sir," Harry replied. "That's what happened."
"And now you are balking at the prospect of deboarding the ship by means of the gangplank," Lieutenant Holman continued.
"Yes, sir," Harry said.
"It seems to me that you've learned quite a lot in a month… perhaps about your own mortality and the fragility of life… and limb."
Lieutenant Holman's thoughtful response had an unexpected effect on Harry. An oppressive weight that he didn't know he'd been struggling under lessened slightly and he took in a deep breath.
"Yes, sir, I guess that… ," he stopped himself and started again. "Yes, sir. That's it."
"It's a perfectly reasonable response, given everything that you've been through," Lieutenant Holman said. "Now, you've got to decide how you're going to move forward."