Sawyer padded down the wooden staircase quickly and quietly, one hand traced the railing and the other held up her white skirt. She reached the bottom landing and brushed away her messy blonde hair as she looked back upstairs making sure she wasn’t followed. Sawyer then hurried to the front door. She pulled on her brown boots, not bothering with laces, and grabbed the lantern from the nearby table. She lit the lantern and sneaked out into the darkness, carefully closing the front door behind her. It was nearly midnight and not a single light was on in her small town. The world was fast asleep as Sawyer chased away the creeping shadows with the yellow light from her lantern. She trailed the worn dirt road, the sky above her a rich violet and the moon just a sliver. As she got closer to the coast, the path became rocky and she had to step with care, wishing she had taken the time to lace up her boots.
“Miss, it’s a little late for a young lady such as yourself to be walking to the coast.” An older voice called out and on alert, Sawyer whipped her lantern around to find the source.
“Yes, Mrs Hadwell, but I can’t resist the sound of the sea. It calls to me when I’m restless.”
“On your way then, just be careful. You never know what the tides can bring.”
Sawyer watched her neighbour stand from the rocking chair on her front porch and enter her home. Mrs Hadwell was a kind old lady but a bit of a busy body. Sawyer spent much of her childhood at her kitchen table, eating tea sandwiches and hearing stories about her grand travels. Sawyer always had a taste for adventure dreaming of the day she too could visit the places in Mrs Hadwell’s tales.
She waited just a moment before she glanced around to check for other neighbours who could still be awake. Continuing down the path, Sawyer finally reached the old wooden dock that extended out to sea. Without much light from the moon, the sea was almost black. She took a deep breath, smelling the salty sea air. The ocean appeared still, a reflection to the clear and calm warm summer night. Sawyer walked to the end of the dock and shined her lantern out into the endless horizon like a beacon, her green eyes searching.
There.
Not too far in the distance, Sawyer could see the white sails of a beautiful sailing ship. She wanted so badly to scream and wave her arms to call the ship to come in faster but she stood still beckoning the ship with her mind. She found herself smiling from ear to ear as she watched the ship cut through the water with grace. It wasn’t long until the ship made its way alongside the dock, it’s crew barking orders and preparing to secure it to the dock. Up close, Sawyer forgot just how massive the ship was, it has been a year since it was last docked here. Sawyer craned her neck just to see the top of the mainmasts. She laughed out loud, seeing their flag again proudly hung high on their ship; the flag of the North Carolina in the shape of a narwhal on a black background. Not very threatening when they were out in open waters, but then again they were just a merchant ship, not some rebel pirates. As the crew disembarked, no one yet acknowledged her as they continued to work on securing the ship. Sawyer didn’t mind though, they hardly knew her, all except one.
“Permission to board?!” Sawyer hollered and waited only just a minute before she got an answer.
“Permission granted!”
Sawyer carefully walked up the somewhat steep plank the crew had set and took the calloused outstretched hand that was waiting for her.
“Do you have it?” Sawyer impatiently asked with the excitement of a little girl on Christmas morning she could hardly contain as she climbed aboard.
“I accept dollars, euros, yen, sterling silver, broken hearts, and secrets.” He commented back, flashing a toothy smile.
“Oh please, Sutton.” She remarked, rolling her eyes. Sawyer studied him as he walked across the deck, dressed simply in a green long green shirt, khaki pants cuffed just before his ankles, and tan canvas shoes.
He returned carrying a small crate, “for you, my lady.”
“Why thank you, kind sir.” She said with a laugh, accepting the crate from Sutton.
Sutton pushed back his wildly untamed brown hair, “would you like to learn more about the stars before you leave?”
She and Sutton laid shoulder to shoulder with their backs on the deck, looking up to a star-filled sky. Sutton pointed out a new constellation, a new myth to tell Sawyer about a hero who has been immortalized in the stars. Sutton could read the stars like he could read a book, he relied on them to bring him from place to place and home again. The stars were like his most trusted ally, there for him even in the darkest of nights, ready to lead him to where he needs to be.
Sutton finished his tale and Sawyer knew it was time for her to head home, she also couldn’t wait to open her crate.
“May I walk you home?”
“Sure.”
Sawyer tiptoed up the stairs hugging her gift and made her way into her room. She placed the crate on her desk and began to pry up the lid. She looked forward to these crates each year; they were mementoes of Sutton’s journey, items that told the story of his amazing adventures at sea. Seashells from all the ports, rocks from countries she longed to visit, handcrafted jewelry, feathers from colorful birds, hand-painted maps, postcards, and so much more. Sawyer picked up her most favorite item, a leather-bound notebook with Sutton’s handwritten notes and held it close to her. The pages were filled with his thoughts, the times when he was in bad weather, the places he visited, the things he saw for the first time, the people he met along the way, the funny things his crewmates did. It was her window to the world.
Sawyer noticed that there was something different in the crate, a parchment scroll tied with a leather string. She pulled on the string and unrolled the letter. She couldn’t believe what she was reading,
Sawyer, this is an invitation for you to live out your pirate dreams, to explore the world for a year with me and my crew. Next year when we dock, bring your bags and we’ll set sail. It’s time you write your own adventure journal.
You’re soon to be captain, Sutton.
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I got inspiration for this short story by listening to Sea Shanties by Brian Davis on Spotify.
Thank you Pinterest for the dialogue prompt!
Skye's Ambitions 