Every Kind of Mask

"What can we do for you?" Henry sternly spoke. Charlotte hid most of herself behind him with her hands still around his arm. She could now no longer hide her trembles as they were completely uncontrollable. The terror she felt was inexpressible for the pain that left her words without fuel.

"Transporter tech. I need your research in exchange for the cure." he briefly demanded.

"Why?" asked Ray.

"Look at her! You don't have much time." he agitatedly gestured to her as his forehead twinged with a sudden sweat. They turned to her as her hands blindly found her chest and her shaking was only a step below seizing. Henry wrapped her in his coat and lowered her to the floor, relieving her of the burden of using strength she didn't have as her irrepressible convulsions withdrew her will.

"If you must know, my boss is expecting me and my team to have our tech ready by friday and it's not. He's not a forgiving man."

Before anyone could ask how he knew they had the tech or who is boss was or why they were on a ship that looked like it was built by vikings, Charlotte stopped the moment in it's tracks.

"I can't catch my breath." She whispered as her last word hitched, followed by desperate gasps for air that scared them all stiff. She turned her face into his chest as she choked through short intakes of air. She looked back up at him with eyes that begged to be saved with his shirt in the clenches of her fist.

"Ill have to go back and get it and we don't have that kind of time, just give us the cure!" screamed Ray. The man with dusky eyes hidden by shadow and a glimmer of guilt behind them, began to shift uncomfortably as he watched the horror he'd caused unfold before him. He reached for a syringe held in a case that had been enclosed below loose floor boards. A hiding place for a plan that he found himself too humane to carry out. He still needed a solution however, despite his regret.

"You." he said, gesturing to Henry.

"I'll keep you as collateral. Once I know your not going anywhere, I know your friends will return. Here's your cure." he said with a toss. Schwoz quickly injected her as they stood around hopeful. They all cringed at the size of the needle and the look on her face as she took it. Henry pulled her into him, tighter than ever before. He tickled her neck with his nose through her hair that smelled of eucalyptus. He swallowed her up with his body surrounding her and his sweater that smelled of too much detergent. She chuckled to herself but also wanted to cry knowing she'd soon lose it.

"Thank you." she said genuinely to the man with a face of fear masquerading as rage. He tried to ignore her kind gesture, for logic had no hand in why she had grace with him. He knew what he'd done and so did she, why would she thank him after she knew it was his plan all along? His anger only grew, like a virus inside him, but not for anyone but himself. He could have forgiven her merciful character had she not wounded him for his lack thereof. With the wave of his hand he spoke with certainty.

"Clear away from her."

With hesitance, they backed away for their misfortune of the lower hand. He slowly removed the black glove from his enormous hand and reached down towards her. She looked up at him with eyes of purity and bewilderment as she took it. He brought her to her feet and gave his orders.

"I'm taking you instead. When they get back he can take your place while I make sure everything is legitimate."

He thought he might get some answers out of her even if it made no sense to take her and then Henry. He had to convince them he'd done this kind of thing before, but his head felt like it was going to explode from anxiety. He dragged her behind him as her body still ached for healing. He took her below deck and into a room, sending her stumbling to the floor. She sensed that his strength was something he wasn't used to using. His stomach wrenched with regret, but he couldn't take it back and he wouldn't injure his pride with any remorseful words of admission. He slammed the door behind him and she could hear her friends fleeing footsteps above. The room was adorned with intricate details of beauty and archaic charm in every dusty book, map and globe. The air was stale, but lovely evening light floated through it, carrying dust to the sun-lit desk in the corner. Embroidered silk ribbons and lace overflowed from it's drawers, carrying her imagination away.

A small round window sat untouched, about seven feet up, holding a view unique to where it sat. Charlotte climbed onto the desk below it and reached for the lock with all her meager energy. She pulled the small latch and punched out the stiff portal frame. The view was more than her heart could process. It leapt within her chest as worry drifted from her, not unlike the frost that she watched melt into flourishing dew along the thirsty pasture. A sedated sea drunk with evening light crashed below miles of olive trees and rolling hills with a thousand shades of green. The sun's golden kiss added an orange hint, laced around weaves of wild ridges. She poked her head out and took in the deepest breath her lungs would allow, asking God if she could take a nap in the uncut grass she swore she could smell.

For a moment she really appreciated her setting of scene and turned to view it in it's entirety. She let her legs hang over the desk as she admired it's features that sat perfectly out of period. Items once necessary for mighty voyages, now serving the simple purpose of bringing a smile to her face. A breeze through the portal reminded her of how windless she felt. Her chest felt weighted and the rocking chair sitting lonely in the corner, was looking like a dream. She meandered over to it, brushing the pages of books long unread on her way. She picked up the blankets that were folded neatly on the chair and shook them out. She took her time to feel the same smooth timber on the walls that crafted the chair and she was begining to fall for it's charms. It blended with the ship it sat in and harmoniously swayed as they hit the same swells and evaded the same rocks.

Her body creaked as she sat down into it, closing her eyes to become one with it at hopes of finding complete peace. Though some trembles still lingered uncomfortably, she would not allow herself to waste this quiet that so seldom traveled with her. She had faith in her boys and unwavering joy that washed over her everytime she thought of how much she belonged with them. Any trouble they got into only reminded her that she was apart of something that not only appreciated her talents but her as a person. And she didn't just have a place that she was truly wanted, but she was doing good in the world. She was just the kind of woman she wanted to be, not a second passing that she felt was wasted and that was all she really wanted.

She loved the feeling of the heavy blankets on her legs and the warmth of the room. The back of the chair seduced her as she decided to bring her legs up and try to sleep. Something about thinking of Henry helped her relax into sleep. These thoughts turned to dreams until her subconscious recognized footsteps growing nearer. She was tempted to keep her eyes closed, feigning sleep so she could prolong her dreams, even in wake. The one she dreamed of would soon take her place and she prayed for more time with him, even if it was fantasy. He often visited her in dreams, a blessing she had not questioned nor resisted. It evoked something inside that was heavenly but indescribable. A peace, a contentment or joy, she wasn't sure. Analysis was futile.

The door creaked open and in walked the focus of her most beloved daydreams. He stopped to stare, smiling at her tiny figure all curled up and dreary heart finding sanctuary. Her disinclination to awaken was overruled by her desire to revisit the comforting sight of his eyes on hers. She turned her head toward the door to see him, not wishing to lift her head from the chair. Their smiles turned to giggles as they laughed at the irony of finding happiness in a hostage situation. Her hands rested motionless in her lap, one palm holding the other, oblivious to their grace and beauty. His filled his pockets, his wrists being brushed by the white t shirt that poked out below his rough black sweater. A bag slung over his shoulder that he remembered in a jolt, reaching into it and pulling out a water bottle. He came over to her, kneeling down with a sweet smile and handing it to her.

Just then he was jerked away, his sweater in the fist of the man that had just come bursting through the door way. Henry turned to him with a glare followed by regret, though he wasn't sure why. He heard Charlotte's voice in his head but he felt a real need for clarity.

"You wont run ahead again." he claimed with finality.

"What did you give her?" exasperation rising in his voice. Henry took her hand as she sat up and he stood.

"It's just water ok. Schwoz said she'd be dehydrated. I'm just doing what your doing right? Taking responsibility of the things you care about? Like your job? Well this is my job.". Charlotte squeezed the hand of her smooth talker as she stood up behind him, looking doe eyed at the man over his shoulder. Not a look she was aware of, but one sight of it turned each victim into a sucker. Now she and Henry stood side by side. His knuckles grazed hers for just a moment, tempting her to cross a line beyond platonic endearment. The tension was becoming more than Henry could bear. He longed for a glimpse into her mind, for any sense of reciprocation so that he might disregard all that went against them. Her chance was torn away when the decision was made for her.

"Alright, come on." he said pulling Henry but pausing after one step. He looked back at her and received a smile. Not a reflex smile for politeness, but a genuine, sweet, loving, everythings gonna be ok, I can help you, type smile.

"What are you trying to do, I don't understand." he replied, to which her smile fell slowly in confusion.

"Like earlier when I.. I mean you were.." the man without a clue as how to approach humility stuttered over his words, followed by him clearing his throat.

"What's the play here, Im not interested in mind games so what's the catch?". Her smile returned as did a lovely bloom of rose in her cheeks as she looked down shyly. Her plan was realized and she was happy to reveal it.

"If you really wanna know, I think you have a good heart and I don't want you to feel like were your enemy. It sounds to me like your under a lot of pressure and that can often turn people sour. But nothings permanent."

To this he brought a frustrated hand to his temple with a scoff for the riddles and ramblings of a wise woman. Words that would become clear in time, but for now only agitated his one track mind. Even Henry searched for understanding in the thoughts expressed from her labyrinth of a mind.

Speech deficiency was a common ailment in those exposed to Charlotte, and as these two were no exception, they simply continued on without a response as there was nothing better they could think of to do. Henry plopped down into the rocking chair as he watched Charlotte walk away. He loved the way her perfect curls swung down and the elegant hem of her dress swayed, an involuntary victim to the ships wavering gravity.

Unlike Charlotte, Henry sat forward in the chair with angst in the bounce of his knee and his folded hands that sat on it. He wasn't very good at waiting and so he jolted up, pacing about the room. He opened every drawer and checked every floorboard for the hollow sound of another hideaway. Just when he'd decided to give up, the floorboard he knocked on shifted with ease. He ripped it out of the floor to find a black case. He opened it with caution as if he was expecting a bomb or something. He relaxed his wince of preparation when he realized there was no threat. He'd seen too many movies, he thought to himself.

The case was identical to the one he had pulled out earlier when Charlotte needed the cure. But instead of a syringe, inside was a sphere. It was chrome with a blue seam through the middle. Henry tried to twist it open and with all his might, the top screwed off. A gas immediately erupted from it, filling every inch of the room with it's blueish mist. He jumped back, as if he'd hoped to escape the cloud of fumes that quickly spread before him.

As quickly as it was dispersed, it pooled around the ceiling and was extinguished. His heart only beat faster as he ran through scenarios in his head. "I definitely just released the diseasey gas that almost killed Charlotte. Perfect. I am a complete idiot." he concluded, berating himself in the empty room. He banged on the door but it was useless. No one could hear his pleas. Perhaps it was psychologically induced, but he was already sweating.

Charlotte followed the man who's grip on her was released with an odd amount of trust in it's manner. She was joyful at this small sign of progress. She tore off the label of the water bottle for fiddling purposes when she sprung up at a glance at the unusual. There was writing on the blank side. Not good writing, but writing nonetheless. Four different styles, one for each silly crew member to have their say.

"Don't worry Char, we've got a plan! -Henry"

"Don't listen to anything Schwoz says.

-Ray"

"Ray doesn't have a plan but at least you will be hydrated.

-Schwoz"

"Running out of room to write!

-Jaspe..-

She rolled her eyes as she put the paper in her pocket hoping to preserve it. They reached the top step to discover an aggravated Schwoz bent over a tablet. Ray stood behind awaiting answers to questions he couldn't even ask while Jasper stood strong and silent, tearing a hole in the pocket of his warmest coat. He moved behind Ray to study the same screen that left them both clueless. Ray turned to him with unnecessary disgust at the boys exhales near his ear.

"Please stop breathing." said Ray crossly.

"Great, I'll tell my mother you said that."

"Charlotte please give us a nice quote, we need a distraction." requested Ray. Wind shivered her chilly face and swept up her hair as she turned to the sound of her name. She smiled with the perfect one.

"Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?" she said with her hands in her scratchy pockets.

"Is that a quote or are you just complaining?" Jabbed Ray.

"Nooo," she said with a playful swat at Rays arm. "It was said by Lucy Maud Montgomery. It means that tomorrow is whatever we want it to be and whatever has been done is done so we don't have to worry about because we simply can't change it." she concluded with a soft smile for each boy that looked at her.

An hour later, Schwoz was still trying to work with the man who was being unhelpfully evasive.

"Alright, can I at least ask why we're on this ship?" stalled Schwoz with a lengthy pause of hesitation in return before the man spoke.

"It was just some ancient ship that was open for tours. I needed a crowd to hide in when I was being chased by some of my bosses goons. I hoped my transporter would aid in my escape, hoping that it would work at all. But it not only transported me, but the vessel I stood upon. That's the problem if you haven't figured it out. Is that what you wanna know?" he asked, chastising himself for spilling his guts.

Little did they know the trepidation that ensued below deck. Henry's head was burning as he sat against the wall with his knees against his chest. A few hours later he remained in the same position, watching the same blank spot on the wall to avoid dizziness while shadows changed behind the sun that traveled across the room in his peripheral. Tremors shook his legs and began to erupt in the rest of him within minutes. He felt the blink of an eye or the prick of a breeze on his skin would send him into overwhelm.

He did not know why they took so long or what they were possibly doing or that more than once, Charlotte had begged to let him go. He tried to think of calm things that pushed away the pessimism and kept the toxic thoughts at bay. No thought had finality, no conclusion. Just as a thought began, it was deterred by another, threatening towards a boiling point in his mind that was ravaged by defeated conclusions and contemplation. He was udderly alone with no savior in sight. The moon relieved the sun that once burned amber walls and now wallowed in a somber sapphire. He could not force himself to find the beauty in it as he suffered. His vision was blurry for he very much wanted to sleep, but his pain prevented it. Suddenly, and without an obvious source, he heard something melodious that hummed through the dings of buoys and the knocking of the ship against the dock.