The Decks of Ecstasy

  Gennie broke the moment and the wave of memories with another step past Marrick. “Let us see how fair these winds are.”  

With swaying steps they made their way through the open mid deck. The maze of hammocks, some still heavy with sleeping sailors, was far more daunting for the taller first mate. Trunks, satchels, and barrels surrounded beams. Low ceilings and wall-less decks, save for the captain’s cabin, made for a communal and trusting atmosphere aboard the Ecstasy. 

Gennie stretched, prodding into waking a few sailors she recognized as those late to duties. She smiled in admiration of a crew though diverse in culture,  social history, gender, and linguistics had blended into a strange familial bond. Motley though the crew of Ecstasy was, Gennie had no qualms about age or gender so long as the work was done. 

Each crewman had a story. That was what brought Gennie to seek them out and mark them trusted. Men and women created by lives that held less freedom. Their past was lost at sea, in trade for treasure to fill voids left on land  

Stories were not what villagers saw when pirates made port. But that was fine by Gennie. 

The sun warmed her skin as Gennie stepped onto the main deck and tipped her hat to shadow her face. The cool sea air fluttered the feathers against the upturned brim, and she rested a hand to still the chapeau in place as she inclined to gauge the fullness of the sails. The battened curtains of pale green billowed in a steady wind. The day was as clear and the wind as blessed as Marrick described. 

Gennie made way across the expanse of the junk, taking in the morning’s bustle. Ecstasy had seen neither land nor passing ships in a week’s stretch. Not even rumor of pirates had whispered from the small island they had last supplied from. The ocean, it seemed, was abandoned. 

This left little to do save prepare to port at Topolis. The calm winds favored fishing, dancing, menial tasks, whiling away before making landfall.  

She again shook free of the strange vision of a ship she couldn’t decide to run to or from.  

Gennie drew a jade-and-copper-clad spyglass from her pocket and raised it to her eye. Relief and remorse released a sigh from her lips. 

“Empty.” She reported to no one, though Marrick still cast a shadow.  

“Aye. It’s been a dull cruise.” Marrick put a hand on Gennie’s shoulder. “But I know you, Sol. The waters of your mind ‘ave not been near so calm. You know I’d do what it takes to shake your worry.”

“But you also know to trust it.” Gennie did not reproof the man for the pet name she thought long forgotten.  

“Ennui is not my concern, Marrick. There will be scores of ships and ports after our stop in Topolis.” Gennie assured the first mate. “But to see no other ship this close to a port so large? There’s a thing to make suspicions rise.”

“Perhaps the old hag’s sultandom has fallen since last you visited.” Marrick quipped. 

Gennie allowed herself to smirk in memory of her last escapades in Topolis, and her run with the sultana there. 

“Perhaps. Though I do wish I had better reason why dreams haunt and my eyes search sea and charts with frequency.” 

“A good captain behaves with vigilance. You’ve learnt from others' mistakes.” Marrick bent, eye to eye with Gennie. “And your own.”  

“Aye. Mostly other’s.” Gennie collapsed the spyglass and returned it to her pocket. “But some warning beyond instinct and paranoia would be considerably welcome. If I’m taking this crew into more trouble than we can navigate.”  

“Is there more trouble on land or sea than this lot cannot handle?” Gennie searched the hazel of Marrick’s eyes for answer to his quip. 

They had indeed seen much together, and more apart.  

“I hope I am not interrupting anything, my lady captain.” The jovial gibe drew Gennie from Marrick. “But my ears did hear navigate and bid me almost as well as the glint of treasure draws my hands.” 

Marrick was knocked aside by the hip of  the buxom navigator. The first mate did his best to veil his annoyance. The woman’s broad smile shoved aside any dread Gennie could ever feel.  

“Bonjour, Mademoiselle Pye. I am pleased your eavesdropping skills have not tapered. You save me the stroll to locate you.”  

Maggie’s grin broadened. “Aye, indeed, and we are well aware how lost you might become, so I am pleased as well to save you a wandering.”  

Gennie draped an arm around the waist of both Maggie and Marrick. “I will make note of that compliment, Miss Pye.” She winked. “I hear from Marrick we are doing well. Let us stroll together then so I will not become mislaid while we confirm our headings and bearings.”  

In answer, Maggie retrieved a map from her ample cleavage as the duo ambled arm-in-arm across the deck. 

Marrick a step behind as Gennie released him.  

“Aye, indeed the going is well, belle.” She shook the creases from the  chart.  

Gennie shot the navigator a fleeting look against the term of endearment.  

“Captain.” A furtive beam blushed the navigator’s countenance as she corrected herself.  

“Today is not a day to call me beauty,  Miss Maggie.” Gennie massaged her temples beneath the brim of her hat. 

“Too much drink, or not enough.” Maggie joked then paused. “But no, I it is more. But more the captain will not say.”  

One of the earliest at Gennie’s side from a time when the only craft Gennie could captain was a skiff. The beauty was more sister than crew to Gennie, but appearances must be upheld. 

Gennie sighed against the words. “Too well you know me, Maggie, too well. You’ll hear more of my mind than most, but secrets still must be kept even from you, ma belle.”

Gennie took leave of Maggie’s eyes to survey the map. “Be assured, anything of use will come directly from my lips.” 

 “Well, our route at least fairs no headaches. Our voyage will take us through clear waters.” Maggie guaranteed.

“Every route has taken us through clear waters, Maggie.” Gennie begged the chart for answers.  

When the map did not provide, Gennie looked to Maggie again. She too shrugged at a loss. 

Superstitious as she was, Maggie moved not to provoke fates to temptation by questioning them, however. She counted the peace a blessing.  

“Come, now.” Maggie set a hand on her captain’s shoulder. “What about allowing the trusted navigator to give an order?”  

Gennie eyes the woman with raised brow. “Bien, your order then, Miss Pye?”  

Maggie slid a narrow gold-and-amber flask from her hip. “A bit of your namesake to cure what ails ye?”  

A smile crept Gennie’s lips despite her worries. “I say again, Miss Pye, too well you know me.”  

Gennie took a long pull from the flask and held it out to share.  

Eager as always for a taste of Blackstrap, Marrick made to take the flask after Gennie’s turn. Maggie snatched the bottle from his reach and shook her finger at the man. “Ladies first. Have some courtesy.” 

Maggie’s scolding rolled off Marrick’s back. “Aye and you have always been a lady. Either of you.”  

The women exchanged knowing glances at one another.