Lost Hope
The sky was red today, but as far as she knew, no killing took place. Perhaps it was one of the many omens that her time had finally come. The cracking of wood and rustle of the sails served as the comfort for the rest of her watch until the rest of the sailors woke up and started their appropriate jobs. She took her place in the crow’s nest way above the action and out of trouble where she might be spotted.
The wind was at her back and brushed her clothes so they went billowing out in front of her. She took off her cap and put it in her pocket, letting the wind play with her hair. The salt of the sea was faint, but the air was clean and the small line of land she had spotted the other day was getting larger. Low voices shouted out orders from the helm while the captain kept his eye starboard towards the land.
It was only a couple days later that the bow of the ship hit the sand. She was ordered out of the nest and into the rest of the ranks for a talking to: orders from the captain about where to go and what the mission was on land and exactly how long they would stay. He reviewed the signal with a deafening gunshot and then set out the plank towards the shore from the edge of the ship. She followed in the back of the line and only when she was out of sight and scattered did she dare run. She wasn’t used to running on rocky ground in bare feet, but she ignored the pain and continued searching. Finally she spotted a glimmer on a rock and when she looked at it, it disappeared. Quietly she called out. The leaves rustled but she held her ground and finally, someone grabbed her wrist and ran. She heard her fellow sailors behind her going slowly and making lots of noise, but she was caught up in the excitement that she might have actually reached home…
She knew very little of their language, but she could guess that they were surprised to find someone who could speak it from the ship. At least since they brought in that other prisoner. Her heart skipped a beat. She was brought in front of their chief and she bowed, as she was taught.
“What are you doing here? You know our language and our customs; what do you want?”
“I only ask for two things. Who is the boy who came to live with you six years ago?”
The chief cocked his head to one side. “What is it to you?”
“He is a good friend.”
“I think you mean a lover.”
She didn’t recognize the word, so she was afraid to agree. The chief smiled and waved for his previous prisoner. She almost didn’t recognize him, but was glad that he recognized her. He ran up to her and hugged her. She was so glad that her plan had worked, she started to cry.
“Please,” she stammered to the chief, “can I live with you?”
He smiled. “I suppose so. You know our culture well enough. But I do not want more outsiders coming into my clan.”
“There won’t be,” her friend said and escorted her away to see the rest of the village.
