Aric extended a hand to help Avalon cross his flimsy plank. She held the thin folds of her dress instead, and in one long stride reached the deck. Aric’s hand caught the wind as he made eye contact with Reed, who followed behind.
He eyed his hand and quipped: “I’m alright, but thank you.”
That had been the salt which rubbed his wound. He laughed it off and dragged his hands in his pockets, creasing his loose blouse in the process.
“Although this boat is of humble size, it’s sturdy enough that it lasted me—and prior, my father—years of travel,” Aric said.
“Your father?” remarked Reed. “How long was this boat used for?”
“It wasn’t his main boat. He’d used it for leisure and gifted it to me on my 18th birthday. Only then did it start going on long journeys,” he clarified.
Avalon kept an ear out as she scoured for potential dangers. She was doubtful of this boat’s condition and Aric himself. What he said were only words. She couldn’t believe simple words. Reed, oblivious to her concerns, sat on a case, listening to the waves and glaring at obnoxious seagulls.
“What are we looking for?” he said in a yawn, strides away from her.
When she neared his case, she whispered in his ear: “Knives, ropes with bloodstains, s.o.s. scribbles, or anything that’s as suspicious.”
Reed looked at her wide eyed.
“Care to tell me why?” he started whispering. “Did I miss something?”
She sneaked a glance at an unsuspecting Aric, who was adjusting the plank.
“There’s nothing yet, but I’m taking precautions,” she admitted, glaring at Aric’s back for no reason yet.
“I didn’t know you were so skeptical, Avalon,” Reed said, amused.
“How could I not, when apart from you there’s not a single honest person in my life?”
“I’ll help you look around,” he quickly said.
He stood from his case and chose a corner to scrutinize as she did. Reed didn’t think of himself as honest, but he’s never deceived Avalon like the rest. He didn’t have an agenda or a status to care about. He saw Avalon for who she was, not for what her name could bring him.
Avalon scanned her surroundings as though she wanted to find something dangerous. Perhaps only part of her did. To refuse and settle for what was comfortable. But instead of torture devices, she found worn novels, plain ropes, and planks without even the least juvenile scribble. She then eyed the cabin, thinking he wouldn’t have left risky items out in the open.
“Mind if I see the cabin?” she asked, her eyes fixated on the rounded door.
“Be my guest. The door’s unlocked,” Aric answered without a care.
With no second to waste, she dove straight in.
“Looks a lot like my cabin,” Reed commented from behind her.
It was perhaps smaller, but as cluttered. That never did any good to cramped rooms. His bed was unmade, with his blanket sweeping the floor, for no mop would. His sink was full of opened sardine cans, but at least they’d been emptied and cleaned. The stench of fish came from the sea rather than his rations. His porthole gathered enough dust that it could no longer offer a view—only meagre light. Bounty posters were pasted crooked on his walls, with a few who’d presumably fallen on the floor.
Avalon stepped back, not wanting to further inspect such a place.
“Humble and grubby,” she muttered under her breath, closing the door.
“I heard that,” Aric said, finding himself behind her.
Surprised by his sudden proximity, her back landed flush against the door when she turned.
“I’ve seen enough.” She bunched her dress in two fists.
“And have you made your choice?” He took a step back.
“Not yet,” she eyed Reed.
He stared back, understanding her remaining concerns.
In truth, Aric and his boat were never the problem. She was stalling. Again and again, for the decision was the biggest she’d ever had to make. It was pulling the trigger before learning how to hold a gun. It was a rash choice triggered—one would say—by a well timed opportunity.
It’d mean the start of a life with more struggles. Survival in unknown lands. She’d never crossed the sea or gone farther than neighbouring towns. Even stepping onto a boat was foreign to her. But the wobbly ground felt strangely soothing. It cradled her away from town and its confines. She could hear the sound of chains unravelling in her mind.
One word—yes—and she’d be free. With freedom came risk. With comfort came prison.
Avalon walked past Aric to the edge of the boat. She gazed as far as she could, seeing nothing but water and feeling nothing but the wind in her eyes. Her locks flew back like a flag proudly waving at last.
“I’ll do it,” she said out of the blue of her eyes.
“I knew you would,” Aric said, his eyebrows shooting up.
“I suppose I’m free to go,” huffed Reed, who’d been idly tapping planks with his feet. He itched to get back to work, but stayed out of care. He knew it’d be one of the last things he could do for her.
“I’ll swing by sometime before I leave,” she replied, not looking at him. If she did, her angst would only proliferate.
It wasn’t Reed she wanted to leave, but he was included in all she’d turn her back on.
He gave her a nod before walking off the vessel. Both didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. They’d deal with the emotions when they rose to the surface.
Aric was unaware of the weight his proposition carried. How impressive Avalon’s resolve was. But he felt the air turn heavy. And as curious as he was, he didn’t pry. He settled beside Avalon, sharing her view from the only point he had access to.
“With your blue eyes, one could wonder if you’re looking at the sea, or if the sea is looking at you,” he said in hopes to unburden the air.
She grimaced, the tackiness of his words causing her to look away from the water. Avalon stared at Aric the way one would a burning house; horrified.
“Please tell me you don’t have a repertory of lines, each as horrendous as the other. Even if you do. I ask you don’t share them with me again. I will not evade an arranged marriage for a deranged flirt,” she said, releasing all the steam that’d been trapped all day.
He had been grinning until she mentioned the marriage. He was not the least offended by her words, in fact, he saw them coming, but her admittance caught him by surprise.
“An arranged marriage?” he echoed in a soft voice.
Avalon hadn’t intended to air out her business to a stranger, a bounty hunter no less. Even she made mistakes when her blood boiled past simmer.
“It’s common practice around here, don’t mind it,” she said, believing he’ll let it go now.
“Where I come from, it’s denounced by most. Am I fortunate, or are you unfortunate?” he laid the question while pondering the answer himself.
“Does it hold meaning to answer this?” Avalon stepped away from the edge. “Are you free to leave tonight? Do you have any remaining business in town?” Her eyes, tired from her earlier steam, appeared lifeless now.
“I’m leaving as soon as you’d like,” he was eager to say.
“Tonight. When all are asleep, even the fishermen. Somewhere in the middle of the night, I’ll find my way here once more.”
“I’ll be wide awake, waiting here,” he said as he watched her drag her dress across the deck to the plank.
She stopped short of stepping out and faced him anew.
“I forgot to ask you about the work. What are we dealing with?”
With pep he answered: “Bees!”
“Bees?” she repeated with just as much pep but on the opposite side of the spectrum.