In her dreams, the open sea had been an object of fear. Dark legends spoke of creatures made of ancient silver scales that slithered aboard ships to devour unsuspecting sailors at night. Often she tried to picture that darkness in her mind’s eye, a place so vast and deep that it rivaled the heavens above for mystery. The ocean was the Devil’s playground they said, so she’d always intended to remain close to home, to her family, to everything she knew. But over the past year, her world had been shaken into something unrecognizable, and she’d left the ignorance of childhood behind. All the things she’d been taught to believe suddenly meant nothing; and thus, she reached out her arms to embrace the unknown.
Hooking her boots on the bottom tier of the ship’s railing, she leaned over to stare into the crystal water below. The gentle waves shone a clear, sparkling blue: they were neither murky nor dark, and they did not frighten her. Tilting her head up to the brilliant azure sky that spanned overhead in an endless bowl, her eyes fluttered closed peacefully. Pleasant heat from the rays of the morning sun kissed her nose and cheeks. She’d never known the sun to feel so warm. So much had been lost, destroyed, stolen from her—she should feel mourning and sadness and fear. But instead, she felt free. This was her second chance, and in the beauty of a new day, the weight lifted from her heart.
Smiling triumphantly, she removed her starched white bonnet and shook her head, allowing the pins to fall every which way. Her abundant hair spilled freely over her shoulders and fell down her back, blowing across her face in the salty breeze. Reaching overboard, she flung the useless garment into the sea.
“And just what in the hell do ya think you’re doin’? Get down from there!”
Throwing a glance over her shoulder, she raised a brow at William’s look of incredulity. She was not a child, after all, but he seemed intent on treating her like one. Over the past several weeks, he had followed her steps quite carefully, as though she were bound to break at any moment.
“I’m not going to fall,” she replied stubbornly, planting her feet firmly where she stood.
“I don’ care. You’re makin’ me bloody nervous, Niblet.”
“I think the thirteen-year-old can manage not to trip off a ship, Will.”
William’s jaw clenched as he rolled his blue eyes, and Dawn was sure that she heard a “bloody hell” slip through. Parenting was new to him, though he seemed to be having an easier time with the infant than the teenager.
“Fine, climb the railing all you want. But when you pitch overboard, you can just swim to Bermuda, cause I ain’t divin’ in after ya.”
Dawn smiled to herself, knowing that if she did happen to take a tumble, he would most certainly jump in to retrieve her.
“Very well. I did not intend to make you nervous,” she relented, stepping down.
“This is serious, Bit,” he persisted, “It’s only us now, and you gotta mind me. Don’t jus’ come on deck without tellin’ me where you’re off to. Me and Eli have been lookin’ all over.”
As William went on with his lecture, Dawn wondered idly where she would be at this moment had she chosen to go with Mr. Giles, her uncle. He’d openly given her the choice, since William had vehemently decided to part ways after their respite in Virginia. The apparent animosity between the two men was something that Dawn did not, and perhaps never would, understand; but clearly, whatever had transpired could not be mended.
She might have traveled to England, which sounded like a fascinating place in its own right; but after the fate that had befallen her parents, and specifically, Mr. Giles’s role in what had happened…Dawn felt unable to go with him. Part of her still feared him, though somehow, despite the fact that he’d killed her father before her very eyes, she did not believe him to be a bad person. She understood now that even though she grieved for her parents, they had been in the wrong. All these conflicting emotions left her terribly befuddled.
Choosing to follow William, as he’d seemed to want her along, became the natural decision. She felt an ease and a certain rapport with him, since there were no questions of character or motivation. Dawn had only met him recently, but she already knew him to be a good, honest man. Lizzie had loved him unconditionally. The grief surrounding that loss was something Dawn and William shared, even if they did not yet speak of it openly.
“You listenin’?” William snapped in his new ‘authority voice’.
It’s a ship for heaven’s sakes! Where could I possibly have gone?
“I’m sorry,” Dawn replied sheepishly, and then giggled as a little fist flailed out from the sling William wore.
“See? He shakes his fist at you,” William declared, his tone softening as a joking smile began in his sparkling eyes, “C’mere, Bitty Boy. You want out, don’t you, sweetness?”
Elijah kicked his feet and gurgled happily as his father lifted him up out of the makeshift fleece and burlap sling. Dawn smiled at the beautiful golden-haired baby and briefly touched his sticky fist while his father held him up, facing out toward the sea. William fluttered sloppy kisses over his son’s chubby cheeks until the baby squealed with giggles.
“I got you now! Can’t escape the tickle monster, mate!”
Suddenly, Dawn thought she was going to cry; and she didn’t want to, because it would ruin this moment. So she turned from the pair and focused her eyes on the dark spot at the horizon. Seeing how William was with Elijah—so different, so joyous…she could almost forget everything else: the few days of catatonia that had settled over him after Lizzie…the sobbing she heard coming from his bunk every night after he put the baby to sleep. During the day he hid his pain from the world so that he could lose himself in the role of caregiver. Dawn wanted so very much to talk to him—to talk about how much it hurt to miss Elizabeth, but she knew she couldn’t, not yet. Not if it might somehow threaten the stability of their new little family.
“Will, I can see land!” she exclaimed as she focused carefully on that dark green blur at the edge of aquamarine.
“That right?” William replied, moving to stand beside her, “Yeah. There it is, in’t?”
“It’s so small,” Dawn murmured wistfully.
“You see that, Eli?” William cooed to the baby as he pointed off into the distance, “See that little green jewel out there? That’s where Mama was born.”
Dawn tensed at the mention of her, and peeked over to see William’s glassy eyes as he saw something she couldn’t reach.
“Bub gugug,” Elijah replied obliviously as a bit of drool dribbled over his chin, causing both William and Dawn to crack a smile.
“Don’t mock me, young man,” William quipped.
--
Upon first laying eyes on her new homeland, Dawn was instantly struck by the color of the waves as they crashed onto the shore—a bright cerulean blue, like liquid sapphires. And to her great surprise, the sand was colored a dusty, coral pink. It didn’t even look real—like something out of a dream, perhaps. Once the ship docked, she trailed closely after William as they disembarked at the port of Long Bay near a great city called Hamilton. The area surrounding the docks was by far the most crowded, busiest place Dawn had ever seen. Everywhere, nearly as far as the eye could see, stood lines of merchant carts selling various goods from expensive gold jewelry to food and drink. And in the distance beyond the immediate swirl of activity, was a large marketplace. Dawn suddenly felt quite small and a bit nervous in the swarm of people. And the individuals themselves…they wore such bright colors; extravagant silks that shone in the sunlight. Sweeping the faces of the crowd, Dawn discovered more shades of skin color than she had previously known existed.
Keeping directly behind William as they milled through the port, Dawn found herself dazzled by endless tables of strange beads and fabrics from foreign lands across the ocean. One display in particular drew her eye. A man with dark copper skin wearing a tall, bizarre red hat hovered over a nearby booth. He held a piece of charcoal, and Dawn watched in amazement as his hand flew across parchment, creating a beautiful image of a small boat under the sun. Looking up with dark green eyes, he smiled.
“Something for pretty lady?” he asked in a strange, lilting accent with rounded consonants.
“No thanks, mate,” William said shortly, after appearing out of nowhere. Grabbing Dawn’s arm, he pulled her along after him, “I told you to stay close, Niblet!”
“I was—I mean, I am. I just wanted to see—“
“Port city’s always dangerous. We can’t get separated.”
Dawn sighed and took hold of the back of William’s weathered cloak to assure him that she wouldn’t wander. After they bustled through the chaos at the port, the marketplace seemed somewhat calmer and less crowded. Most people there appeared to be locals in the midst of daily errands. Elijah soon started to fuss, so William took a moment to rest and rock the sleepy baby in his arms.
“Who’s this lady we’re looking for?” Dawn asked.
“Name’s Nenna,” William answered.
“Right, but what is her surname? And how can you be sure that she’s still here or that she’ll be willing to help us?”
“She’ll help,” he said distantly.
“Do you have any idea where she is? This isn’t exactly a small island. What if—“
“Beg your pardon, I don’t mean to intrude, but you all look a little lost. Maybe I can point you in the right direction.”
William and Dawn quickly turned in surprise to discover the source of the pleasant female voice. Approaching them was a lovely, smiling young woman with creamy, ivory skin and shining red hair that fell in silky strands to her elbows. She wore a pale blue gown and toted a large basket of items apparently purchased from the marketplace.
“Hullo, uh we’re really lookin’ more for a person than a place,” William responded cautiously.
“Oh, well hey, I can help you out with that too. I’ve lived here my whole life and pretty much know everyone,” the woman answered brightly.
“Do you then, by chance, know an older lady called Nenna?”
The redhead’s eyes instantly lit up as she said, “You mean Nenna Belfon?”
“Well I dunno actually. Never met her myself—“
“She was one of my nurses growing up! I can take you to her home if you’d like.”
“A nurse? Sounds about right,” William murmured thoughtfully, “The lady I’m looking for was nurse to my wife, Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth? Wait…you don’t mean Lizzie, do you? Lizzie Summers?” the woman exclaimed, her warm hazel eyes sparkling hopefully.
“That’s her,” William replied hoarsely.
“Oh my God! I—I’m Willow. We were brought up together, nearly sisters! My heart broke the day she left, but I always knew she’d come back! Her spirit is here—always has been.”
“My name is William Wells…this is Dawn, Elizabeth’s cousin from Connecticut, and this here,” William continued, gesturing to the sleeping baby draped against his shoulder, “Is Elijah.”
Willow gasped, clasping a hand to her mouth. “Her son?”
“Yeah. Hers and mine.”
Dawn looked up nervously at William then, and sure enough, she could tell that he was trying desperately to blink back tears, his expression strained.
“Oh he’s gorgeous! I can’t believe it!” Willow cried, beaming, as she swiped a tear from the corner of her eye, “I just can’t believe she’s a mother. It seems like only yesterday we were wild children playing on the beach, and now…Where is she? I’d love to see Lizzie again,” she said as her eyes excitedly scanned the marketplace.
“There’s some things we need to talk about,” William said thickly, his eyes downcast.
--
After stepping inside the little thatched bungalow by the sea, Dawn felt both safer and calmer. She, William, and Elijah were no longer adrift in a sea of strangers. When the old woman invited them in, Dawn’s first impression of her could be described simply by the scent of her tiny home: a soothing aroma of rich nutmeg and cinnamon. Observing Nenna curiously, Dawn took in the charming character of her features. The old woman was soft and round, her skin a shade darker than cocoa butter. Deep freckles and blemishes from years in the sun stood out on her cheeks; and her almost black eyes, crinkles around the edges, shone brightly with a smile before it could reach her lips. Her voice was entirely unique; it possessed a deep, earthy, full sound.
While they all took a seat on stools around a table by the hearth, Willow, who had kept silent since she’d learned of the happenings in Wethersfield, left abruptly through the back door. Once proper introductions had been made and Nenna had had time to adequately fuss over the baby, William began the story again from the beginning. Dawn cringed, not wishing to hear it once more—not wishing to see this kind old woman crushed by hearing the terrible fate of the girl whom she’d cared for since infancy. Rising silently, Dawn walked through the kitchen and living area, and then slipped through the back door. After shutting it softly behind her, she stepped out onto a small deck that overlooked the beach.
Willow stood there facing the sea, resting her forehead against a wooden beam. Her breath came quickly as her shoulders shook with violent sobs. Delicately, Dawn approached the redhead and lightly placed her hand on the older woman’s back. Willow tensed and jumped slightly at the touch, before swiping the back of her hand across her runny nose and swollen eyes.
“Sorry,” she mumbled as Dawn moved to stand beside her, watching the high tide wash over pink sand.
“Don’t be sorry. I know how much it hurts, and I only knew her for a year.”
“It’s just wrong…I can’t imagine the world without her in it, you know? She was always the strong one, the one who took care of everyone else, kept everyone going no matter what. Even when Joyce died so suddenly, she got through it. No matter how badly she was hurting, she got all of us through it as well. She understood people in a way that…almost like she could see thoughts. The day she left, she promised me it wasn’t goodbye. She promised…” Willow choked, the sobs seizing her once more.
“She gave up her life because she refused to live a lie,” Dawn said softly.
“That’s our Lizzie, isn’t it?” Willow murmured, the ghost of a sad smile on her lips, “Always doing the noble thing…I know William has to be a pretty incredible person—for her to fall in love with him.”
“He is.”
“What made him decide to come here?”
“Just wanted to,” Dawn replied, shrugging, “Elizabeth talked about this place all the time—about how she wished she could go back. So we came back for her, I guess.”
“What will you do now that you’re here? Does William have a place to live?”
“No. I don’t think he thought it through that far.”
“Stay with me,” she offered quickly, “I mean, just until you get settled in. My parents left me their home when they passed and I’m an only child, so I have plenty of room to spare.”
“Your parents are dead?” Dawn asked, raising her chin to meet Willow’s eyes.
“Yeah.”
“Mine too.”
After a long silence, Willow drew in a trembling breath, snuffling. “Would you like to take a walk with me, down by the water?”
“Sure,” Dawn answered, nodding.
As the warm, clear water washed over her bare feet, Dawn breathed in deeply and glanced off toward the horizon. The sky was awash in brilliant color: deep violet, orange and rose, as the sun began to sink behind the ocean. She looked back to her new friend, and smiled, knowing that the journey had only just begun.
Thank you, Lizzie
~*~*~*~
“Dearest Elizabeth,
I know you’ll never read these words. Honestly as I pick up my pen now, I feel a tad foolish. I suppose…there’s just so much I need to say, so much I wish I could say to you. Well, I do talk to you all the time. I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but I like to believe that you still listen. Late at night before sleep comes upon me, I open my window and listen to the waves, tasting the salt in the air, and I speak to you. In a way, it’s very much like prayer, at the end of the day; but I never talk to God. I’m not sure I ever will…so I pray to you instead. I tell you simple, stupid, insignificant things: what I’m thinking, how I feel, what I did that day. I ask for your help when things get hard.
Almost seven years. It has been nearly seven years since I held you in my arms. Almost seven years since I saw your beautiful hazel eyes with those glittering flecks of green close peacefully for the final time. But it’s still very new. Not a day passes when I do not feel that loss in both my heart and viscera: the pain, the guilt, the bitterness, the terror, the hopelessness, the hatred for those who took you away...and the completely unfounded anger at you for leaving me. Have I healed at all? People ask me that all the time in one form or another, and it is dreadfully irritating. Part of me is gone forever—an emptiness remains in my heart, in my being, that can never be filled. It isn’t simply an ailment from which one can recover. If it weren’t for our boy, I never would have made it. In the beginning, I survived only for him. I think, only recently, that I’ve begun surviving for myself as well.
Elijah. My sweet little Eli. God, where do I even begin? When he was still a baby, I would sit up for hours at his cradle, watching him sleep, unable to wrap my mind around the fact that we made him—that we created this beautiful, perfect creature in an abandoned barn in Connecticut. I watch him the same way now, and every day I grow more in awe of him. He truly is a perfect mixture of us both. Physical attributes, of course: poor boy has my unruly curly hair, though it’s gold instead of brown; he has my eyes and your pout…It can be painful—I see sparks of you in him all the time. He’s completely fearless, which terrifies me; and he asks about a million questions a day. His queries range in difficulty from “Can a centipede grow its legs back if you pull them all off, Papa?” to others I cannot answer, such as “Where did Mama go?”
Our favorite game is knights of the roundtable—Lancelot is his favorite, so I’m always relegated to Arthur. I just finished building a little wooden sword for him to play with. Don’t worry, love, it isn’t sharp. We read every day—a new book each week. Pet, honestly I tried The Odyssey, but each time I attempt to read it to him, he always complains, “Papa, I’m bored!” after five minutes. I’m still working on it, I promise…We talk about you all the time. “Mama Stories” are among his favorite pastimes. And fortunately, I have so many dear people close by to help me tell them better.
It has been such a great pleasure meeting your friends, Elizabeth. They have taught me a great deal about you—about your young life, your roots, your spirit…And Nenna has truly been a godsend. Auntie Dawnie (as she’s known to Eli) lives next door with your friend, Willow. It is so hard for me to believe that she is older now than you were when we first met. I’ve already chased off three daft blokes who have been following the Bit. One of these days I’m just going to have to give in—one of them, at least, is bound to be good enough for her. I know she’s quite tired of my lectures, but I want her to have only the best. I want to see her happy, as I know you do.
In the beginning, your friend Willow took us all in with loving, open arms; but after we’d been here several months, I was able to purchase my own land to farm. Indeed—I am a simple farmer, and I couldn’t be more content. It is so breathtakingly beautiful here. Everything is bright, warm, soothing. I can easily understand why you missed it so…Fighting evil and picking brawls are all of the past. I no longer live in darkness, searching for demons. Elijah is my life now. Raising him in a loving, comfortable home is my greatest accomplishment. I look forward to seeing the man he will become.
What else should I tell you? On a darker note, I have not seen nor spoken with Rupert since we fled Wethersfield that final time. After we docked in Virginia Colony, I took the children on to Bermuda and left him there to make his own way back to England. With his actions, I suppose he believed that he was protecting me from the inevitable pain. He and his seers saw death and heartache in my future—our future. But they neglected to see life…so much life, and joy in the midst of sorrow. I can hear you convincing me that I must forgive him, that I should let go of what has passed between us; but I am unable to do so. Perhaps this will change one day, though it is not foreseeable. Forgiveness is a difficult concept for me to grasp.
One last thing, before I forget: I am planning a trip to Italy next year with Elijah, and Dawn, if she wishes to go. I will show our boy the ocean which great Odysseus sailed upon, even if he does not appreciate it until later in life.
I do not know what else to say. There is so much and yet nothing at all. All I can think to tell you is
I will always love you.
Sleep, my love. I’ll be there when you wake.
Your William”
~William Wells; 1693
~*~*~*~
[Reviews - 248]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 4496 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
Only the epilogue to go after this. It might take a while, but it is coming! Thanks so much for sticking with me!