The light breeze, the sun high in the sky and the calm waves, the weather seemed perfect for sailing on the open sea. Firouz was drafting in his mind his plans for a prototype for a new invention. Normally he would have said that he could not have asked for better conditions to develop the possibility of his invasion. But not today.
Rongar who stood next to him on the upper deck, observing the whole picture, sold an ironic smile to his thoughtful colleague and showed him three fingers.
Two fingers.
One.
And the impeccable silence was broken by Marina's loud scream, "Dad!"
Rongar again showed three fingers.
"Zeiken!" Another loud scream, this time belonging to the captain. Two Fingers.
"I did nothing!" The third defensive scream of Zeiken. The last finger.
For the past two days the screams on board had been so frequent that trends could already be observed. Firouz hid his helpless face in his hands and Rongar only smirked, watching the scene again.
"Zeiken, go check the cargo." Sinbad ordered with an irritated and tired voice, getting between the kids. With lack of better ideas, he decided to end the situation and buy himself some time this way.
"I have checked it five times today." Zeiken protested, throwing up his hands in disbelief. All the crew were definitely watching this scene and giggling surreptitiously, that is why he decided not to look around and not to mock the order himself. Especially since, he was innocent this time. Well, almost innocent. But a little teasing is not a reason to start a storm again. Though deep inside, he was subconsciously satisfied that Marina's only argument was to call for help from her father. The sad part of that was the fact that Sinbad was taking her side each time without even asking.
"Do it for the sixth one." Sinbad confirmed firmly, without thinking much about the logic there. "Once you finish, I wanna see you by the tiller."
Zeiken knew he was not going to win and there was no sense in arguing. He rolled his eyes and headed himself below the deck. He could see the sarcastic smile of victory on Marina's face as he walked away.
Sinbad shot a dark gaze at the sailors who were staring at them idiotically. Then he turned at Marina but she already managed to escape his look, hiding into the book she was holding. She reminded him her mother while doing so.
"Mary?" He asked tentatively in a low, concerned voice.
Marina lifted her eyes up, knowing that she could not avoid his gaze, even though she really wanted to. Trying to look offended, the girl made a face. "Does he really need to run rampant all the time?"
But Sinbad could notice that the grumpy face is just a cover for a completely different feeling. When their eyes met, he found something that had been bothering him and making his heart hurt like nothing else in this world. She was sad. Something was not right and he was not able to name it.
"He is the First Mate." He spoke softly.
"Not for me." Marina, answering miserably, rolled her eyes. And then her gaze shifted back to the book she was holding on her knees.
Sinbad had not felt so helpless for a long time. Trying to understand at least a small part of what was happening around him. Only a few days ago he had been convinced that they had left the bad mood and sulks behind them, on the shore. But apparently they had not. The more the captain tried to find the cause, the more he did not understand it.
There had to be something behind the fact that this always-positive girl suddenly became stabbing and rude to the crew. And it was probably something that his wife had already known very well, but for some reason she had not told him about it. He sighed heavily and decided to try otherwise.
He casually sat down beside her, crossing his arms on his chest. "Of course not for you."
Marina looked up from the book again.
"You are the captain's daughter." Her father, unable to pretend any longer, sold her a smirk, toying with her.
She rolled her eyes but still a small smile appeared on her face.
"Hope this isn't about gaze killing spells." Sinbad said, nodding at her book. "Because otherwise, half of my crew is about to be dead."
Marina rolled her eyes again and made a face. But when her gaze met her father's look, she knew it would not work on him this time. His raised eyebrow indicated that he was waiting for the answer.
"Oh, don't make fun of me…" Finally, she uttered sadly. Thus, again, as if evading the right answer.
"I am not…" He studied her for a while. "I am just concerned." And there were really signs of concern on his face.
Their eyes met again. Father's gaze sank into the blue eyes of his daughter, trying to guess a tiny part of what troubled her. And he felt that somewhere in between them, a thousand unspoken words were piled up. He tried to read them, but these were as incomprehensible as the Celtic symbols in the book she was although her heart might very much like him to decipher these himself, the words remained unspoken.
Sinbad did not want to push. "So what the book is about then?" He asked out of the context to move the conversation smoothly into the neutral waters.
Marina tilted her head to the side, seeing him hiding a cunning smile. "It is a love story." She stated wittily.
"A love story?" He raised an eyebrow, pretending curious and keeping the conversation going.
"About love at first sight." The girl wrinkled her nose provocatively."Do you believe in such?" She asked, teasing her father.
"I do." He answered very quickly and decisively, which surprised her a bit.
"Really?" She puzzled.
"Yes" He confirmed with a mysterious voice, which made her even more curious.
"Was Mom a love at first sight?" Marina was drilling it.
"Not exactly." Sinbad replied evasively again and chuckled. "Our love story is much more complicated than anything you can read in the books."
She looked at his face, face of a cat that had just eaten a canary. "Then who?"
"Someone else." Sinbad said, throwing her a cocky look. Marina opened her mouth in disbelief but her father's wily expression softened again and he embraced her, placing his arm around her thin shoulders.
"You are also not telling me everything." His voice was dripping back with concern as he was trying to catch her eyes again. But when their glances met, he knew that those thousands of unspoken words would still be left unsaid. For now.
Leaving his daughter with the puzzle, he kissed her forehead to head himself towards the tiller.
One thousand four hundred and sixty-two.
One thousand four hundred and sixty-two days had passed ever since someone looked at him with such real parental concern.
One thousand four hundred and sixty-two days had passed since his mother had died. And only she had looked at him the way that Sinbad now looked at the Marina.
Zeiken had just come back from below deck and watched them from a distance. In fact, he had not checked the loading for the sixth time. He only sat down at the table in the galley and waited a sufficient amount of time to get back upstairs. Coming back he had seen that the captain was still not by the tiller, so he leaned against the lifeboat and started studying the scene.
The boy did not hear the word but from their gestures and expressions, he read that are toying with each other, exchanging smiles. He noted again that they both make very similar faces. Marina wrinkled her nose in exactly the same way as her father did. He began to wonder if he too was doing something similar to any of his parents. However, he quickly concluded that he did not know the exact answer, despite the fact that he was so often compared to his father. The comparisons, however, always referred to what he did worse and not the same way. It could be that he even wrinkled his nose worse way. Perhaps that is why no one was looking at him the way Sinbad was looking at Marina now.
It was even hard for him to define the differences but she always received that particular kind of look. That special smile. That special twinkle in the eyes. Reserved only for her. Full of pride, warmth, love. Full of care.
On that one evening in the galley, the boy had had the impression that for a short time he also had become the addressee of a substitute for something similar from the captain. But he realized that it had had to be an illusion and that he could not compete with Marina. Not when she was around. She successfully was stealing all the attention, all the care. The care that was belonging so much to her in the first place.
Looking sadly at them, he saw the captain getting up and walking towards him. Zeiken cleared his throat to concentrate his thoughts. Walking towards the boy, Sinbad waved his hand in a gesture of slitting the throat, which meant that Zeiken was not to get any special look, but a traditional reprimand.
"I did nothing!" Zeiken preceded any comment.
"You are married for so many years as I am, then you will understand that even this could be the greatest crime." The captain said pointing out the finger at Zeiken.
The boy rolled his eyes. "Then better I never will."
"So I saw in Baghdad, how much you are not interested in females." Sinbad added a biting remark. But Zeiken only rolled his eyes again in annoyance.
"You are the First Mate so behave like one." Sinbad instructed him firmly.
Zeiken had already opened his mouth to answer, but after a while, he looked down because he knew it did not make sense anyway."I will." He added under his breath.
"I really hope so." The captain concluded with a sigh. He studied the boy for a while, but also this time he could not read what was wrong.
He could not read it, nor could he count the days, the looks, the smiles the way the boy counted them.
"You wanted me to come here." Zeiken said, hiding his emotions under the hood.
"I did." Sinbad started, crossing his arms over his chest. "The foresail should be lowered."
The boy narrowed his eyes in surprise. "What for?"
Instead of an answer, however, he only got a look that was saying the question probably should not been asked.
The wind will change?
Zeiken wondered for a moment how it was possible that he himself had not noticed anything. He looked up at the sky, trying to read anything from the clouds. He even put a hand to his forehead so that the sun would not blind him, but he still could not see anything that would herald a change in the wind.
From the corner of his eyes, he saw the captain's expression remained meant he was serious, so the boy looked up again.
"You are looking in the wrong place" He heard Sinbad's voice.
Should he be looking at the sea?
Zeiken followed his captain and leaned over the railing. They both remained silent for a moment, but the boy still could not see anything.
"Look." Sinbad pointed with a finger at the seawater lapping against the side of the ship.
"Sometimes you have to trust other senses. You must not only see but also hear what the sea is telling you. You have to feel what your ship wants to tell you." The captain started explaining to his ward. And to the boy's surprise, the tone of his voice changed.
"The sound of sea water hitting the ship's side can herald a change in wind much faster than anything else." Sinbad said and for a moment, they both listened to the rhythmic clatter. "When the beats quicken, it means that the water current has changed already many miles away."
Sinbad let Zeiken listen again. Intrigued, the boy followed the advice and tried to activate the rest of his senses. He counted the hits. He tried to feel It.
The captain watched him, crossing his arms on his chest. Zeiken cached his gaze and he would swear he found something like that special twinkle. Something that resembled that special smile.
Actually, Zeiken was not able to recall when for the last time Sinbad had explained to him anything that way. Usually their conversations were a constant argument. However, he did not want to wonder about the reason for this change. He wanted this moment to last even if there was only a substitution of anything real.
Sinbad tousled his hair. "As you master this art, you will notice that even the behavior of the crew may be an announcement of a change in weather."
Zeiken raised his eyebrows in sceptical disbelief but still a little smile appeared on his face.
"Before the rain, everyone becomes as annoying as the two of you today." Sinbad stated, making a face at him. "And when you are my age, you will feel it also in your bones." He added with a smirk.
"Sinbad, people don't live that long." He teased him back.
In response, he got a glance that was supposed to look stern, but a moment later they both laughed and Sinbad just shook his head.
"At least you are old enough to hear the wind change." Zeiken teased him once more with a cheeky smile.
"The foresail!" Sinbad snapped in the answer.
"Alright, alright." He raised his hands, surrendering but as he passed, he sold the captain a cocky smirk for the last time.
Marina read the same sentence a third time, a third time not recording anything of its context. She could not concentrate. Still her gaze was flickering into her father's direction. She was watching surreptitiously the scene.
Fifty-three.
Fifty-three voyages that Zeiken had joined. Fifty-three times, he had set sail by her father's side.
Him, not her.
He is the First Mate. Zeiken is an indispensable part of the crew and this picture. This is his place and she is just a guest here.
Marina watched as her father was calmly explaining something to the boy, gesturing, pointing at the waves. She knew the smiles and the pride in his eyes. She remembered them from her memories of swimming lessons, first horse rides. These were her memories, her moments with her father, their little and bigger adventures, her world. And now she felt like someone was trying to steal it from her.
Whatever they were talking about now, she would learn it too. But these lessons were no longer for her. Maybe it would be if she were a son. This thought had been haunting her more and more.
She felt anger and sadness growing in her heart at the same time. She pressed her lips in a tight line.
No.
It can't be right.
She had to shape up. She had already marked her position at home. Effectively, because Zeiken stayed on the ship every time they reached the port, instead of returning home. He even had stopped eating with them. His chamber in their residence had been left empty. And although she had known that Maeve had been very worried and sad because of it, for Marina the situation was good that way. There is was her place, he was the guest.
She must pull herself together and could not let it beat her also here.
Everything must have its own order.