Hell over high water

Mouse opened her eyes to the light coming in through the windows of the second deck and quickly sat up, looking out at the woman who’d opened the closet door. She was thin, with dark hair that had been pulled up into a bun, and she wore a very elegant-looking blue dress.

“Oh, my!” The woman said, looking down at her with a mixture of fear and surprise. Mouse chided herself for picking such an obvious hiding place, but she’d been tired last night and there had been no light to guide her any further below deck than this. And so she’d found this closet and fallen asleep.

“Dear girl, what has happened to you?” The woman asked, smiling uncertainly.

She knows I’m hiding here, Mouse thought. Of course she knew. How could she not? What else could a wretched looking child in tattered clothes with a dirt-smudged face be doing inside a closet on this ship?

Mouse didn’t answer her question. Instead she darted out of the closet, catching the flowery scent of the woman’s perfume as she passed by and disappeared into the sea of passengers that were finding their quarters on the second deck. Several of the adults and a few of the children looked at her strangely as she ran past them. She needed to find a way down to the third deck, and quickly, but the long corridor seemed to provide no such passageway.

Finally, at the end of the ship, she found a doorway to a stairwell. But before she could even begin her descent, she felt a large hand grab her by the shoulder and suddenly she was yanked backwards. Mouse let out a yelp and turned to look up at the man who had apprehended her. The uniform told her he was a crew member, and the scowl on his face contorted his elongated features.

“Who are you running from? And where are your parents?” He demanded.

“I, I was trying to find my mother. She’s here on the ship, but I’ve lost her.” Mouse lied.

“You were trying to find your mother, were you? Down there?” He asked in an amused tone as he looked down the darkened stairwell. “Do you want to know what I think?” He asked, grinning now. There was no warmth in his grin. It was merely the look of a man who has captured his prey. “I think, perhaps, that your mother is nowhere on this ship. I think, perhaps, that you are a stowaway who has tried to hide in a closet.”

“No, no! You must believe me.” Mouse pleaded. But it was too late. The man was already dragging her back through the crowd of passengers. If some of them had given her a strange look before, now almost all of them were staring as she passed by, her upper arm gripped firmly by the man in uniform. “Please, just give me one more chance to find her! I know she’s here somewhere.”

“Yes, yes, and I suppose she’ll be holding your ticket as well.” The man said.

“That’s right. She has my ticket. She really does!” Mouse said, her despair deepening as they approached the gangplank. Passengers were still boarding the ship, but by now their numbers had dwindled to only a slight trickle. Mouse felt her hope slipping away as the man held onto her, waiting for the last of them to board before he escorted her off the ship. She thought of her father then—thought of the severe beating she would take for trying to run away—and began to cry. She never wanted to see him again, never wanted to endure another of his violent, drunken rages, but now it seemed it was too late. She would be escorted off the ship and taken home.

 

The quick, cool breeze blew past Jean. She closed her eyes, and raised her arms, letting the breeze cool her off. Her dress was a magnificent one. The material was thick but left a pleasant feeling on her skin. It was a wonderful Maroon color. It just was unpleasantly constricting and warm. Never the less, she was quite content with the way her maid had put her hair up, just for the occasion. It was nice to dress up once in a while. She hadn’t dressed up since she had lost him…

She sighed and quickly opened her eyes, and they first came upon the ship. It was large, that was for sure. The people milled around, causing a spectacle. The children ran around, and danced. The people hugged one another, yelled and celebrated. She laughed. It was something to be celebrated--that was for sure. The ship was like a floating motel, and more. One would be amazed by how it stayed afloat in the first place.

She turned back as a hand touched her shoulder.

“Ma’am, they’re taking your things.” Said the driver, climbing back onto his seat in the front. She frantically ran towards the three men that were carrying her belongs from carriage.

“Please be careful!” She yelled out, as she quickly grabbed for a vented box that contained the larvae of her wasps.

“What are these?” asked one of them, pointing towards one of her large, covered cages. She swatted at him as he began to move the cloth from atop it.

“It’s none of your business, just as long as it gets to my room safely.” He looked at her mischievously, and put it on the baggage trolley. She groaned, and grabbed her purse from the carriage. She quickly took out a fairly large tip for the three of them, and waited as they came back for the rest of her belongs.

“I trust that everything will be in good condition when I get to my room.” She said with a smile, as she slipped them the tip. They bowed with grins on their faces as Jean walked off. She stopped by the trolley, and placed her hand on cage.

“I do hope you’re doing well my loves.”

She quickly pulled my invitation from my purse, and opened it.

Dear Jean Magnus Bequem,

You have been invited to attend the maiden voyage of the Narcissus, this is a opportunity that one may never have again in life. Do take it….

She laughed as she reread the last part again. She had found it rather odd, but she didn’t really care. She was getting a free trip on the ship, to somewhere she had yet to visit. She slipped the tickets from the envelope, and put all but the tickets back into her purse. They had sent her two, but she hadn’t managed to find a friend to go with.

“No matter.” She muttered as she walked towards the front of the ship. She politely pushed her way through the crowd of people. She apologized as she bumped into the people, and they quickly returned the favor with their “Not a problem.” or their “Quite fine.”

She first saw what looked like a Reverand, and walked towards the front of the ship when she suddenly stopped. A loud yell could be heard, as she looked over towards the noise. There seemed to be a young girl being man-handled by one of the crew-members. He was causing a spectacle.

She ran towards the crowd, and noticed the man thrust her on the ground, off the end of the ship loading area. The girl was crying. Jean’s face went red with anger and she ran forward, holding her dress up enough to make that possible.

The man had turned around and was heading back to the ship, the girl was sprawled on the ground about to get back up. She grabbed the man by the shoulder, and swung him around.

“Who do you think you are sir?” She snapped, grabbing his chubby cheeks in my hand, “What gives you the right to miss handle a child!?” She let his face go, the indention of her fingernails in his cheeks. He stumbled back a few steps, and looked at her in shock.

“She was a stow away.” He muttered, his face red in embarrassment, “She said her parents were on board.”

“Well heavens, of course they weren’t. She must have misheard what I told her. I was boarding.” I said, grabbing the child by the arm. The girl looked at me with wide eyes.

“That’s your daughter?” he asked with a laugh.

“How dare you!” She said slapping him, “What’s your name?” His eyes were as wide as saucers.

“T-Tom” he started, “Tom Barder.”

“Well, I’ll be talking to your Captain about this Tom.” She said snidely, “I do hope you didn’t expect to work after today.”

She smiled, and started to walk off holding the child’s hand. She quickly gave her two tickets to the ticketmaster, and walked up the ramp.

“So young lady, now that you’re with me,” she said with a Genuine smile as they stopped near the railing on the deck, “What’s your name?”

She took a handkerchief from her purse, “My name is Jean Magnus Bequem.” She quickly handed the handkerchief to the child.

 

Boarding the Narcissus--Leon Jonas

"Dear Arlington S. Brown

You have been invited to attend the maiden voyage of the Narcissus, this is a opportunity that one may never have again in life. Do take it…."

Leon couldn't help but laugh a little as he read the note. Arlington S. Brown had once been the owner of a rather prosperous chain of mining companies in the American Midwest. He had been a short, round, mustachioed fellow who had a taste for fine wines and beautiful women. Now he was dead. He let his lust for women get the better of him and Leon happened to be present when it happened. Last time Leon saw him, he was laying face down in the dirt between a couple of old shacks with 4 bullet holes in his chest. That was how justice was handed out where Leon came from.

It had been a little bit of a reward when Leon found the ticket on the man. The girl sure as hell wasn't a reward. She was damned scared for her life, thinking Leon was just another killer outlaw. Having the chance to board this boat seemed a little bit like a reward from God to Leon. He did work in mysterious ways, or so they said.

Leon had barely arrived in time. England was a whole different place from Texas. Real different. Dental hygiene seemed to be a point of contention among most of the people there. Smelly food and even smellier people as far as he was concerned. Leon had arrived just three days before the scheduled embarking of the ship. Since then he had been trying out the night life. Most of these English gangsters had never met a real American cowboy, a couple even tried to pick fights. Leon laughed at the thought.

He folded the invitation up and walked towards the man who was taking them, his spurs clinking as he walked. Leon handed the plump man everything, invitation, ticket and all.

The smiled, looked at the invitation, and promptly frowned.

"Mister Brown?" He said in a somewhat condescending tone.

Leon tipped his hat to the man. "Yes sir."

"Indeed... May we take your luggage sir?

"Ain't got none compadre," Leon said with a smile. "Just my guitar here. Might have to kill ya if ya tried to take it though. Haha!" Leon slapped the man on the shoulder and strolled up onto the deck.

His appearance earned him more than one upturned nose from the high class folk aboard the Narcissus. Leon was used to things like that though, and it seemed to make him more obnoxious. He liked the salty air...the gentle motion boats made. It reminded him a lot of how a horse gallops. Leon had good feelings about this voyage.

"Yes sir, a gift from God," he said quietly to himself.

 

Clare gave a short amused whistle. That lady slapping away that guy to protect that little girl had been pretty amusing to look at, but now that that was over all that was left to look at were rich, snobby people.

Turning away for the rail, Clare walked around, letting the breeze move about her hair and her simple blue dress. Proper dressed made her feel heavy and as if she wasn't breathing properly, so she preferred the more simple fashion and rather low neckline.

Clare whistled as she walked, at finishing school that was practically forbidden, but now she could enjoy it without anyone having to tell her how it was improper for a lady to whistle.

 

"Thank you, Ms. Bequem," Mouse said, wiping at the tears on her face with the handkerchief. "My name's Mouse. Well, that's not my real name, but it's what everyone calls me."

Ms. Bequem looked down at her with kind eyes. "And what is your real name, Mouse?"

"Elizabeth," Mouse said. They were aboard the ship now and many of the passengers recognized Mouse as the girl who'd just been escorted off by the crew member named Tom Barder. Their staring faces seemed to trouble Ms. Bequem. "Is there a problem?" She asked one of them, but of course the woman turned away.

"Well then, I think we've found our room Elizabeth," Ms. Bequem said brightly. She opened the door to room 64 and they went inside. The room was spacious. Across from the made bed there was an oak chest of drawers with a large mirror attached to the top of it and next to that was a large closet. At the end of the room there was a shuttered window and Ms. Bequem walked towards it and opened the shutters, letting in the sunlight.

"Ms. Bequem, thank you for taking me aboard with you," Mouse said, looking slightly ashamed. "I, I wanted to take this trip to get away from my father. He hits me a lot, and I just wanted to get away from him. I wanted to start a new life somewhere else," Mouse said, fresh tears welling up in her eyes.

Ms. Bequem beckoned Mouse to her and hugged the child. "It's going to be okay. You're safe with me now." She said. "I won't let anyone else hurt you again, I promise."

 

Jean took another handkerchief from purse, and gently dabbed the tears from her eyes.

“I can’t say I know how your life has been. I had a sheltered life. I will say though, if I had ever had children, I’d hope they’d be a strong as you are.” She gently squeezed her shoulder. She opened the two doors that were connected to the room. One led to the small bathroom, which consisted of a porcelain basin and tub. She touched the smooth surface, and looked at the Elizabeth.

“Elizabeth, would you mind taking a bath? I’ll ask the maids for the warm water.” She left the room momentarily, and motioned for one of the maids to come her way.

“Well need some bath water, if you please.” She said. The maid nodded and walked off. She quickly returned to the room.

“When they come with your water, take a nice long bath. Give me some time to make you a simple dress.” Jean smiled at Mouse and patted her on the head as she opened the second door. The second door was a small room with a desk and a window the looked out at the sea. Her insects and experimental belongings were lain variously around the room. She opened the chest and rummaged for the old dress she had started making for her niece all those years back. She finally found it, it was half-down and a nice yellow. She hoped it would fit when she was done.

She took a needle and thread, and some extra cloth and lace. The girl was sitting on the edge of the bed as the maids came in with the steaming bath water.

 

Mouse could hear their low murmurs of conversation as the two maids poured the buckets of water into the empty basin of the tub.

"Something terrible is going to happen to us before this voyage is over," the first girl said.

"Only God knows what the future holds. Mere mortals cannot, nor will they ever be able to, see the future," the second girl replied.

"I promise you that I am not lying."

"And I promise you that I will laugh in your face once we've reached our destination unscathed."

Their jobs done, the maids left and Mouse went into the bathroom, shedding her tattered clothes and sinking into the warm water they had poured. It should have been a luxuriating experience, but as Mouse soaped off her body and washed her dirty hair, she could not stop thinking about the conversation she'd overheard.

Something terrible is going to happen to us before this voyage is over.

Those words refused to leave her mind now and Mouse began to wonder if the woman had indeed been prophecying the future.

 

The Room--Leon Jonas

Leon had a hard time not staring at his surroundings as he strolled down the narrow but lavish halls with his guitar strapped to his back. Every so often he would have to stand to the side for a waiter or some maids as they rushed back and forth for God knew what. Leon stuck is arm out and leaned across the full width of the hallway to stop a frantic looking waiter from passing. The man kept muttering things in a French accent that Leon had a hard time understanding.

"'Scuse me Sir, mind pointin' me to my room?"

The waiter dabbed some sweat off his bald head with a handkerchief.

"Your name monsieur?" He said frantically.

"Uh..Brown. Arlington Brown. That's Mister Brown."

The waiter gave him an incredulous look and motioned for Leon to follow him. "B's are just up the hall Monsieur Brown."

The man opened a door to a very lavish looking room; marble counters, satin sheets, a wide glass doorway that lead out to a balcony that would overlook that water.

"That'll be all Pierre," said Leon as he stared on in wonder.

The man tried to say something, but Leon merely put his hand over the man's face and pushed him out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Slowly, as if not quite believing where he was, he unstrapped his guitar and threw it onto the bed.

 

Cain looked up at the sky as he boarded the ship. He had cleaned himself up for the trip, cutting his hair and making sure he looked the part of an English gentleman.

He walked up to the ramp, where an elderly man wearing a uniform asked his for the ticket. He handed it to the man. "Name, please?"

"Cain Shields, my good man."

The old man looked at a piece of paper and checked something off. "Yes, you're on here. We'll take you luggage; here's your room number." The old man handed Cain a slip of paper.

Cain ran up the ramp, taking in the sights and smell of the harbor. This would be the trip where he would finally get over his addiction, he knew it. It would be a time for relaxing and renewing, and maybe even finding a little love. Cain smiled as he set foot onto the deck. He looked around and saw a few other people there, but not many. Walking up to one and shaking him on the shoulder, he asked "Sir, do you know why we recieved these tickets?"

The man grunted and shook his shoulder.

"That's strange," Cain muttered.

He headed towards his room, opened it, a lay down on the bed. Little did he know he was in for something incredible...

 

Roger Lombard wandered around aimlessly on deck. He was bored, and the ship hadn't even left yet. This was gonna be a long trip.

Sighing, he shook his hand, pushing the sleeve down. Roger wondered why he'd worn that particular shirt that day - the sleeves covered his hands completely, making it hard for him to work. And on the Narcissus, there was a lot of work to do.

The boy slipped silently passed an older gentleman and his wife, slipping his hand in and out of the man's pocket in one motion. He flicked his wrist, and his sleeve fell. Whatever he'd grabbed was round and flat and smooth. Great, another pocket watch.

This one better be gold...

Roger stuffed it into his pocket without looking at it. He made his way towards his room, picking things off from random people as he passed. There were so many people here, and most of them wealthy. Maybe it wouldn't be so boring here, after all.

The scrawny redhead stopped when he reached the hallway. Someone was sitting against the wall, curled into a ball and moaning softly. A young boy with long, dirty-blonde hair. Curious, Roger knelt down beside him.

"Are you alright?"

The boy looked up, and Roger saw that it wasn't a boy at all. Big, green eyes, a little nose dotted with freckles - she was awfully cute, whoever she was. But why was she dressed like a boy?

The girl blushed and looked at the ground. She opened her mouth to say something, then winced. Roger touched the scab on his chin thoughtfully.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

The girl hesitated, then smiled sheepishly at him.

"I've never been on a ship before," she said, about six octives deeper than Roger had expected.

So...it is a boy??

The boy laughed timidly. "I'm not used to this," he explained, "It's, um, hard to walk here. And I, uh, can't find my room."

Roger sighed quietly, standing. And here he thought he could meet an actual girl on this bloody ship. Oh well.

He extended a hand to the boy. It's not like he could just leave him there.

"Come on," said Roger.

The boy blushed. He hesitated, then grabbed Roger's hand and let him help him to his feet. The boy's hands were thin and rough - maybe he was a farmer or something. Roger wondered, but figured it wasn't really any of his business. Besides, he didn't really care.

When he was off the ground, Roger expected the boy to let go of his hand. But, he actually held on tighter. Kinda awkward, but the guy was shaking all over - he was probably just afraid of falling over or something.

"Do you remember what room you're in?" Roger asked.

The boy nodded. "Thirty-three," he said quietly.

Roger was in room Thirty-four. What're the odds?

"This way," said Roger, and he started down the hallway.

The boy followed close behind, squeezing his hand tightly. This boy was obviously middle-class, and Roger looked dirt poor, so they were practically invisible to the streams of aristocrats that slid passed them. That was good - they looked pretty weird, holding hands like that. Especially since the boy was a good four inches taller than Roger.

They walked on in silence for a while. The boy stared down at the floor, closing his eyes every now and them. Roger felt kinda sorry for him - ships can be hell if you're not used to them. He wasn't expecting him to say anything, but suddenly he stammered: "My name's Dana. Dana Voughler. What's yours?"

"Roger."

"Oh. Well, um, thanks for helping me, Roger. I really appreciate it."

Dana smiled shyly. Roger couldn't help but blush.

This is a boy?

He turned away from him. That was just weird. There was an awkward kind of silence, then Dana asked, "How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"Oh. I'm twenty."

Roger looked at him. He figured he was at least, like, fifteen. This guy was twenty?

Well, aren't we just full of surprises?

"Are you here with your parents?" Dana asked.

"Nope," said Roger. "I was invited."

"So was I," Dana said brightly. "Do you know who invited us?"

Roger shook his head. That aparently killed the conversation, and they walked on in silence.



((crap post is crap!))

 

Oh Almighty Sovereign of the Universe grant me your wisdom to show these souls your will for their lives.

Reverend Pem peered over his bible and watched the other passengers board. The young man with the guitar strapped to his back clearly didn't belong here. Neither did "the daughter" of that woman who brought the cages on board. His attention was suddenly fixed on a strong willed young woman who issued orders as if she owned the ship. She was clearly quite efficient and used to being obeyed. Within a few moments she had expertly directed the crew in the manner and means with which her bags should be handled.

"They are all so wrapped up in their own worlds," he said.

The young musician trying so desperately to fit in. The girl afraid of getting caught, terrified of whatever waited beyond the ship's dock, and confused as to the older woman's kindness. The woman had an academic air about her. The porter called her Ms. Bequem. Pem couldn't take his eyes off of the sorrow so clearly etched on her face.

"What does she want with the girl?" he asked.

Was it simply christian charity? Was anything as simple as that?

"I will save all your souls," said the Reverend quietly as he began to returned to the holy words just below his nose.

 

Bored of his cabin, Cain left the room and headed out to meet the other passengers. Smoothing back his hair and adjusting his glasses, he walked down the stairs. There weren't many people out in the lobby, just a religious-looking man peering over a bible, and a scraggly girl standing close to a middle-aged woman with her hair in a bun. She might have been attractive ten years ago, Cain noted. He sat down next to the religious-guy.

"How are you, Father?"

 

Reverend Pem smiled as the young man with the haunted eyes sat down.

"It's a beautiful day. We are on a wonderful ship. The Almighty has a plan for each and everyone of us. So how can I be anything but happy," he said before leaning in. "But a little brandy never hurt either. Brandy is the Almighty's way of letting us know he wants us to be happy." Pem pulled out a small hip flask. "Would you care for a nip?"

 

Cain froze. He had been trying to stay away from alcohol for so long...but here it was, staring him right in the face. He felt as if their were two Cain's standing on his shoulder -- one angelic and the other demonic. The angel was telling him that he should stay away. The demon was telling him that it was a priest offering him brandy. Could it really be wrong?

"Sure, I'd love to! I'm feeling pretty good myself." He took the glass and gulped it down.

 

It had been months since Pem had enjoyed brandy with anyone else. Ever since the rumors had begun spreading, his usual drinking buddies had always had something else to do. He poured another for himself and the young man.

"Oh where are my manners, I didn't get your name? I'm Pem. Revenrend Pem. But as we've already shared a bit of brandy you might as well call me Moredcai. So what brings you on this cruise?"

 

Cain took another glass, ignoring the angel on his shoulder. "I'm Cain Shields. I got this letter that said I should come. I have no idea what for, but I wanted some rest and relaxation, so I came."

 

Clare was already bored now. There was so much a book could do to entertain her. A few seats over, a young man and a reverend were talking over a glass of brandy and they seemed pretty entertained with their conversation.

 

Pem smiled and clapped Cain on the shoulder. "Ah my boy, the Almighty really does work in mysterious ways. I also got my ticket without any explanation. I needed a rest from church politics, so I figured why not?

Pem tucked the brandy away in his jacket. "Now that's enough, I only brought so much with me. So Cain, if you don't mind me asking, what is troubling you? Forgive me but I am a reverend and I've seen that look before. Is there anything I can help you with?"

 

Blue Mountain--Leon Jonas

Leon stumbled out into the lobby, a strong smell of whiskey on his breath. He had obviously taken advantage of the healthy supply the ship masters had provided Mister Brown's room with. Leon didn't know much of the man...but he had fine taste in his booze.

Leon kicked back one of the chairs and plopped down in the corner of the room, his guitar in his hand. He usually got the urge to play whenever he got to drinking. It was good for him that his skill also seemed to increase the more he drank. He opened with a slow stroke of a E minor Chord. The pace of the song instantly picked up after a few seconds, but the tone remained somewhat sad. It always seemed like cowboys were sad for some reason.

When Leon began singing, he earned himself more than a few glances from the occupants of the room. He may have looked like a dirty American cowboy, but his voice was pure.

"My home it was in Texas
My past you must not know
I seek a refuge from the law
Where the sage and pinon grow


"Blue Mountain, you're azure deep
Blue Mountain with sides so steep
Blue Mountain with horse head on your side
You have won my heart to keep

"For the brand 'LC' I ride
And the sleeper calves on the side
I'll own the "Hip-Side-and-Shoulder" when I grow older
Zapitaro, don't tan my hide

" I chum with Latigo Gordon
I drink at the Blue Goose Saloon
I dance at night with the Mormon girls
And ride home beneath the moon

"I trade at Mons' store
With bullet holes in the door
His calico treasure my horse can measure
When I'm drunk and feeling sore

"Yarn Gallus with shortened lope
Doc Few-Clothes without any soap
In the little green valley have made their sally
And for Slicks there's still some hope

"In the summer time it's fine
In the winter the wind doth whine
But say, dear brother, if you want a mother
There's Ev on the old chuck line"

He finished out the song with the same slow stroke he had started and leaned back in the chair, motioning for the waiter to brink him a drink.

 

Cain's heart sank when he put the bottle away. For a split second he reached for it, but pulled back, hopefully before Pem noticed.

"Uh...nothing much, Fath..Mordecai. I'm doing pretty well."

He had to change the subject, and fast.

"What book were you reading? I know its the Bible, but what specific book?"

 

"Sorry to interrupt, is this seat taken." Clare sat between the reverend and the young boy without being invited. It was impolite, she knew, but it would've also been impolite to turn her away so it would've ended the same.

Their conversation had turned rather interesting, and she wanted to be there to catch it. Clare wasn't much of a gossip girl, but it wasn't like she had anyone to gossip to.

 

"No, you can sit here, miss." Cain smiled as the pretty woman sat down. Maybe he would find some love here after all.

 

Clare smiled at both men like a proper lady. The priest looked obviously like a priest and the young man...he looked okay, kinda handsome.

 

Pem snapped the bible shut rather quicker than he intended. "I was reading Revelations. The judgement of all mankind and the end of the world. Fasinating." He faced the young woman who sat between them. "Hello young lady. I am Reverend Pem, this is my friend Cain. And who might we have the pleasure of sharing this corner of the ship with?"

 

Cain smiled. "Hello, I'm Cain Shields. What brings you here?"

He didn't want to ignore the Rev, actually Revelation was his favorite book, but he had more important things to do.