Hell over high water

Clare took a quick look at the man playing the guitar, he looked foreign, he looked American, he looked interesting. Clare made a mental note to talk to him later, but right now she turned to Cain.

It was a simple dance, nothing complicated like the ballroom waltzes she had to learn at finishing school, but it was nice, she was enjoying herself.

 

"So, have you ever been on a cruise before?" asked Cain, still dancing.

 

"Once or twice. How 'bout you? Is this your first time?"

 

"Yeah, this is my first time. I've been on boats before, but nothing like this."

 

Clare smiled. "Where you from?"

 

"London. You?"

 

"I'm from London too. Well, I was born there, but I've spent most of my life in Switzerland or somewhere else but London."

 

"Switzerland, huh. I've never been there before, what's it like?"

 

"It's nice I guess. I like Italy better, very picturesque."

 

"Very romantic, right?" asked Cain, smiling.

 

"Yes. Venice especially."

 

The dress was done in the next five minutes and she quickly set it side on the bed. Jean knocked on the door to the bathroom and opened it just slightly.

“I put your dress on the bed, and there should be towels in there.” She said into the door. She quickly closed it, and headed towards the other room. It was small, but she hoped her things would fit.

She quickly grabbed her cages and placed them on the table. She took the cloths off, and the insects answered with happy buzzes. They were large American wasps. Little was known about them, but through her studies she found they had no real stinger. The “stinger” at the end of their abdomens were an egg-laying device. She found they could sense where the larvae of other insects where. She didn’t know how. She knew they lay the eggs on the larvae, until they hatched and then consumed the other insect as their food. Beastly, but not lethal to her.

Jean frowned as she uncovered the other cage. All the wasps lay dead on the ground. She only hoped the females had lay their eggs. She looked in the vented container. None of the eggs had hatched yet, but she quickly fed the insect larvae that waited for them.

She quickly closed the door. She would need to study for a few hours.

 

Mouse finished her bath and wrapped one of the thick white towels around herself. She went from the bathroom to the main area of the cabin, still thinking of the maid's words when she saw the dress on the bed.

And that was when she stopped, shocked at the beauty of it. Made of silk, elegant in its simplicity, the dress was barren of lace and sequins, shiny buttons or intricate designs. The soft, yellow hue was just muted enough to make the color appealing to the eye. Mouse changed into it and went to the large mirror above the chest of drawers. It was a perfect fit, she thought. Not too tight, and not too loose.

She looked from her body to her face and smiled into the mirror.

I look like my father. And I'll always look like him, won't I? I'll always look like my stupid, ignorant, hateful father.

Mouse looked away from the mirror and stepped toward the closed door where Ms. Bequem was. She almost knocked, but remembered that it was impolite to intrude on someone who was busy.

And so she stepped out onto the veranda. By now the ship had left port and Mouse watched as the sea created a whitewash of spume against the sides of the Narcissus as it carried them on toward South Africa.

For a very long time, Mouse sat there just watching the ocean. She could probably have stayed there all night, sleeping under the stars and listening to the waves crash against the sides of the ship, but after a time Ms. Bequem came out.

"Dear, are you alright?"

"Yes, Ms. Bequem. I was just listening to the sounds of the ocean."

"Indeed, it is quite relaxing, isn't it? I'm sorry to have left you alone for so long, Mouse. You're okay?"

"Yes."

"Are you as famished as I am?"

Mouse hadn't been thinking of food, but now that Ms. Bequem mentioned it she was quite hungry. "Yes, I am."

"Well then, we should go to the dining room! Dinner will be served in twenty minutes."



Ms. Bequem held Mouse's hand as they entered the dining room and sat down at one of the large rectangular tables. They were among the first guests to arrive and so the table was still mostly vacant.

Then, a preacher man came and sat down next to Ms. Bequem. She said hello and introduced herself. The preacher man said his name was Reverend Pem.

Mouse shook his hand. "Nice to meet you Reverend Pem."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, dear child." Pem said with a smile.

Ms. Bequem and the Reverend began a lively conversation then. Mouse listened to them for a while, then became bored and wondered what would be on the menu. The seat next to her was still empty and she she hoped someone interesting would come along and take it.

 

She stretched out, and looked at the time on her watch. It was getting late. She quickly put her notes to the side, and gave the cage a pat as she walked from the room. She was shocked to see how beautiful the little girl was all clean and dressed up. She looked beautiful in the silk dress she had made.

“Dear, are you allright?” Jean asked.

"Yes, Ms. Bequem. I was just listening to the sounds of the ocean." Elizabeth answered.

She smiled and thought of the ocean. The feeling of the cool wind hitting your face, and the gentle sound.

"Indeed, it is quite relaxing, isn't it? I'm sorry to have left you alone for so long, Mouse. You're okay?" she then said. She had neglected the child for quite a few hours. Jean knew she’d have to make some changes in her own behavior.

"Yes." Elizabeth answered.

"Are you as famished as I am?" she asked with a smile, as she grabbed one of her yellow sun-dresses from the wardrobe.

"Yes, I am." She answered.

"Well then, we should go to the dining room! Dinner will be served in twenty minutes." She said joyfully, leaving for the bathroom. She took of her corset, and changed dresses quickly. The sun-dresses were her favorite, so much more free. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was messy, the bun partially falling out. She touched her face, moving towards the wrinkles that were slowly generating around her eyes over the years. She could honestly say she had crows feet now. She smiled. If only her prince could see her now, with the child.

She sighed and wondered why she had taken the child in the first place. A child would change her life and for that matter her life-style. She could no longer disappear for weeks, just studying and working. She’d have to watch her time, and most definitely her health.

She quickly took the bun down, and let her long wavy locks fall down her back. The grey was slowly creeping up on her roots. Everyone had told her to dye them, but she knew it wasn’t healthy. She gently slid the brush through her hair, untangling and bringing it back to it’s silky feel. She put her bun back up and walked out of the bathroom with the brush in her hand.

The young lady was waiting for her, with Jean’s purse in her hands. She handed it to her, but Jean set it on the bed.

“Let me do your hair.” She asked. The girl nodded, and sat in her lap.

She gently began to brush the girl’s hair. It was thin, but beautiful. Within a few minutes the tangles were taken care of, and her hair fell on her back with a gentle blow. She then French braided it and gave her a pat on the back. She quickly put her gloves on.

------------------------​

They had been escorted to their own table. A table that could seat four persons, she rather found it a waste. She looked around, the place was still rather empty. She then noticed as the Preacher walked by. She motioned for him to come over, and pointed at the seat next to her. He sat down.

He then introduced himself as Reverend Pem. Jean smiled, she really liked the name.

“Jean,” she said, taking his hand and shaking it, “Jean Bequem.”

"Nice to meet you Reverend Pem." Said Elizabeth, shaking his hand. Jean’s heart rose at her politeness.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, dear child." He answered.

She silently took her gloves off as the wine arrived. She scoffed as the waiter put a glass in front of the child.

“None of that.” She said, waving it off. She knew it wouldn’t be much trouble, but she had never been one for giving children alcohol, even at dinner parties.

“So Reverend Pem, what brings you to the Narcissus?” she asked, taking a sip of the wine. The waiter placed a glass of water in front of the child. She really hoped she hadn’t upset her.

 

"Just...lean out as far as you can!"

Dana grunted, leaning further out his cabin window. Roger couldn't help but grimace as the older boy gagged and emptied his stomach.

They'd just reached Dana Voughler's room when the Narcissus hit a good-sized wave. Dana, having eaten a pretty big meal before boarding and this being his first time on a ship, just couldn't take it. So there he was, hanging halfway out the window, losing everything he'd eaten in the passed four months and then some. And there was Roger, who had to stick around just in case the blonde boy fell.

Wonderful.

After what seemed like forever, Dana coughed, spat, and pulled himself back in, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He was pale as hell and shaking more than before. Roger considered rubbing his back or patting his shoulder or something, but was afraid that he'd puke on him.

Dana slumped against the wall and closed his eyes. He mumbled something that sounded vaguelly like "I wanna go home", rubbing his forehead.

"Um, are you OK?" Roger asked after a moment.

"Yes," Dana breathed.

There was another one of those really awkward silences, then he pushed himself off the wall and shuffled towards his bed. He started going off to the left a little, obviously more dizzy than before. Roger grabbed him by the elbow and lead him to his bed, where he sunk down and burrowed under the covers like some kinda mole.

Roger rubbed his scab nervously. He felt sorry for the guy, but at the same time felt...weird. He didn't know how to describe it - it was just odd. Probably because he was so femmenine, but not a girl. That was really weird.

"I, uh, my room's right across from yours," said Roger, "Thirty-three. Just, um, knock if you need anything...er, try to get some rest, 'kay?"

Dana muttered something from beneath his tomb of blankets, and Roger headed out of the room. He stood in the doorway for a second, watching the older boy over his shoulder. Was he gonna do this until they got to South Asia or wherever the hell they were going? He hoped not - he couldn't work and play babysitter at the same time.

The mound of blankets shifted suddenly. Big, green eyes and a shock of dirty-blonde hair poked out. Dana looked pathetically at the puny redhead in the doorway. Roger's heart skipped a beat.

"I...thanks...sorry."

Roger grunted in response, shutting the door. Almost automatically, he flung himself into his room and slumped down on one of the blue velvet armchairs beside the door. There was that feeling again - that weird feeling.

How could a boy be that pretty? Roger'd seen plenty of dashing, handsome young men before, but this was his first time dealing with someone pretty. It was so...weird!

I need better adjectives.

Roger sighed, shaking his head. He'd get used to it - these ships could go a long time without stopping, he'd get used to it eventually. He should focus on more important things, like work.

Roger sank to the floor and emptied his pockets. Three silk hankercheifs, eight coins (Roger didn't exactly know which coins were which, only that they paid for things he needed), a pair of reading glasses, a ring with a red stone, and two pocket watches, both silver.

Of course they were silver. They were always silver. The only people who didn't have gold watches were the people Roger picked from. He couldn't help but feel like they were doing it on purpose.

Oh well, it didn't matter. He'd gotten a whole bunch of other shiny crap, and he was going to get a whole lot more before they reached South India or wherever. Roger was a very dedicated worker.

His luggage - a bashed-up old doctor's satchel, donated to the orphanage when dinosaurs walked the earth - had been brought to his room when he arrived, and was now sitting at the foot of his bed. It looked out of place in the elegant, blue-and-silver room, like a lump of coal in a pile of...whatever those blue jewels were called. Anyway.

Roger scooped up his rewards and stuffed them into the bag. He figured he didn't have to worry about maids finding any of it in there - what did they care what a grubby little orphan kept in his ancient purse?

Snapping the bag shut, Roger stood and left the room. He had work to do.



About two hours later, as Roger sifted through the fruits of his labor - he got a monocle this time, yes! - there was a knock at his door. He flinched at the noise.

Crap!

Had they caught him? Had he lost the game already? He sat silently, waiting for something to happen.

"Roger? Are you there?"

Oh, it was just Dana. Roger sighed silently and went to the door. He cracked it opened just wide enough to peer out into the hallway.

The older boy smiled shyly at him. He was still a little pale, but not nearly as dead as the last time they'd met. He'd also, for some reason, changed clothes - a brown vest with brown slacks and a white collared shirt. Aside from the adam's apple and lack of breasts, however, he still looked like a girl.

"Yeah?" Roger asked.

Dana blushed slightly, and Roger got that weird feeling again.

"Thank you," said Dana, "For, um, helping me earlier. I, uh, I'm sorry if I was a...a thorn in your side or anything. So, um, I was wondering. If you'd like to come to - uh, come with me to the dining hall. For dinner."

Weird, but Roger hadn't eaten since that morning. And this was a pretty high-class place - the food was probably delicious. Free, too.

"Yeah, sure," he said, "Hang on a sec."

He shut the door before Dana could respond. He shoved his earnings into his satchel, which he pushed under the bed just in case. Then, he headed out into the hallway.

For a second, Roger was afraid Dana was going to try to grab his hand again. But, the boy was a little less wobbly on his feet this time around, and Roger only needed to grab his elbow every now and them to keep him from toppling over.

They reached the dining room just as it was filling up, and managed to grab a pair of seats at the end of one of the long tables. Roger sat at the corner of the table, partly so that he could pick things off the aristocrats that passed by and partly because he didn't want to sit next to the scrawny little red-haired girl who happened to be sitting close by. Sure, Roger was a scrawny red-head himself, but whatever.

Dana took the seat between Roger and the little girl. He tucked a lock of long, blonde hair behind his ear and picked up a menu. He fidgeted uncomfortably. Roger wasn't speaking to him, and he didn't know anyone else on this ship. He offered the small girl beside him a friendly smile.

((Gah! Crap post strikes again!))

 

Clare eventually had parted with Cain and gotten ready for dinner. Again, she dressed rather simply, although the dress was more refined than what she'd worn before, now in a darker blue.

Arriving at the dining hall, she looked around for someone interesting to sit with, preferably the American she'd since before. He wasn't there, but the reverend was, sitting next to some lady with a little girl. The little girl looked like she'd just been picked from the streets, despite the rather elegant fabric she wore, still, she wasn't going to scorn good company just for a little detail.

Clare made her way over to the table, discreetly interrupting the conversation. "Reverend Pem! So good to see you here!"

 

After Clare left, Cain headed up to his room. He was feeling slightly drunk, and he wanted to clear his head before dinner, which wasn't that far away. After he changed and brushed his teeth, he headed back down to the dining hall.

But on his way there, he heard something strange. It was the laughter of little children. He heard a ball bouncing and the kids laughing.

"These kids are going to become rather annoying if they continue..." he muttered. As he walked down the stairs, he saw a janitor wiping the floor. Cain tapped him on the shoulder.

"If you wouldn't mind, sir, could you tell those children upstairs to quiet down?"

The janitor blinked. "Um, there aren't any children on this ship, other than the girl downstairs."

Cain's brows furrowed. There weren't any children? He had specifically heard children. But, whatever.

Cain continued down and saw the woman, the child, the reverand, and Clare sitting together, laughing and talking.

They sure know how to make a guy feel included, thought Cain ruefully.

"Hello, everyone," he said, flashing his white teeth and taking a seat besides Clare.

 

Reverend Pem rose to greet Clare and Cain. "Well my friends, why don't you sit and join us? There is plenty of room. Clare, Cain may I introduce you to Ms. Bequem and her daughter." As the Reverend returned to his seat he leaned close to Ms. Bequem. "These are the two I was telling you about."

 

Jean politely greeted the others, as the American man brought a seat over and sat next to the girl. She glanced back at Elizabeth who simply stared back.She smiled at her.

She watched as two more boys joined our table. One was rather pale, the other seemed to not quite fit in with the normal aristocrat. She smiled and waved at them.

The Reverend leant over "These are the two I was telling you about."

She laughed, and looked at the two. They obviously liked one another, but she wouldn’t say a thing.

“So, now that we know one another… why don’t we order some more wine?” she asked with a wink. She motioned for the waiter to come over.

“We’d like a bottle, and get these lovely people some glasses.” She told him. He nodded and walked off.

“Do any of you plan on staying in South Africa?”

 

Reverend Pem smiled. “I’m hoping to spend quite a bit of time there. We are all friends here. New friends, but friends so I guess there is no harm in telling you. I have been studying the scriptures for the last year and think I’ve stumbled onto something really monumental. It seems there were several books excluded from the bible during the early years of the church. I have found a priest in South Africa who has a translation of one these lost books.” Pem lowered his voice. “If the priest can be believed, this book will offer new insight on how a soul is saved from hellfire.”

 

The conversation continued, but Pem became lost in his own thoughts. He’d sacrificed so much to track down the Book of Abel. He’d been labeled an occultist, a witch, and even a heretic. Church politics had ripped apart the original message. Thousands of inncoent souls burning for eternity because of politics. All he was doing was completing the message. Sure his searching had brought him into less than Christian circles, but wasn’t the risk worth the reward? Wasn't a complete salvation message worth it?



Out of the corner of his eye, Mordecai saw a man or at least the faint image of one. He should have been scared but had seen far worse while trying to track down the Book of Abel. The Reverend slowly reached into his pocket and began rubbing his rosary beads. No one else had seen it - that was a good sign. The spirit was weak.

The phantom continued to walk, silently screaming in terror. It looked directly at him. Pem drained his brandy and began to silently pray.

 

Cain took another shot and laughed. Suddenly, he noticed the Rev was praying.

"Somethin wrong, Pem?" he asked, his speech slightly slurred.

 

The Reverend took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Nothing Cain. I was just bothered by some old ghosts. It can sometimes be so easy to get caught up in one's memories."

 

Cain nodded. "I know what you mean." He downed another glass.

 

As the spirit faded, Pem becan to feel more like himself. A mischevous thought bubbled to the front of his mind. He nudged Cain. "It is a beautiful night. Perhaps, after dinner, you should take Clare for a walk."