Elaine loved mornings. It was a magical time when the sun peered over the seaside markets. The harsh call of a gull was her wake up call, the sound drifting through a cracked window on a cool breeze. She began to sit up, only to be brought back down to her mattress by a weight on her chest. Looking up, she was met by a pair of glittering green eyes.
“Roger! You fat tub of lard!” She laughed, shoving the orange tabby off her chest.
Roger mewled in his elderly croak, smugly walking towards the door with tail raised high. Elaine shook her head, smiling ruefully as she swung her legs over the side of her bed. She usually remembered to keep her door shut, but she must have forgotten to shut it last night after a particularly nasty fight with her father. She flinched as she remembered it. He’d gone on about her work in the docks, and how she was wasting her life doing man’s work when she should have been looking for a husband.
She huffed, trying to push the memory aside. It was honest work, she had told him. If she didn’t step up, how was her parents to survive? With her father’s leg injury, he could no longer work, and her mother was too sick these days to do more than light house chores. Elaine told herself it was her duty to step up, but the old man wasn’t having it. The shouting match had been so bad that it must have drawn attention from at least a few of the neighbors.
With another huff, she grounded herself and began to dress for the day. Canvas shirt, slacks, and a sturdy rope for a belt to complete the scruffy appearance of a Pinecrest dock worker. She leaned her elbows on her vanity as she brushed her thick auburn hair. Luckily, the night hadn’t given her too many tangles and she managed to tame it in no time. She stopped to examine herself a bit, black eyes searching for any flaw on her light brown skin that she could wipe away. When she was satisfied, she straightened up. With a swift salute to the mirror, she turned and walked out the heavy wooden door that separated her room from the rest of the small townhouse.
From her end of the short hallway, she could see a small flicker of light in the kitchen. Her mother was usually still asleep by this time, so she could only surmise that her father was awake. She cringed as she walked, the hall feeling as though it stretched on forever. She could feel a light burning at the back of her throat as though her stomach her protesting the idea of talking to the old man.
As she rounded the corner into the kitchen, she caught sight of him. He had his back turned to her, nursing a bottle of whiskey as he was wont to do these days. To numb the pain, he’d always say. After his accident working the mines, his leg had never been the same.
Gideon Dawson was a sturdy man in his prime, square from his firm jaw down to his frame. No other man took as much pride as he had in his work, and he strength had once been renowned all throughout Pinecrest. After the accident, however, his strength and esteem had withered. What had once been muscles solid as steel were reduced to mere knotted ropes under his skin. His leg, the source of all his troubles, ached every minute of every day and made what had once been a reasonable man into a mean old miser.
Elaine coughed lightly, making him turn around to look her up and down with a tired but annoyed glance.
“Where you off to?” He asked sternly, doing his best to hide his slurred speech.
“Market. Ma’ll want fresh produce for breakfast,” Elaine replied as placidly as she could. She couldn’t hide the firm set of her jaw.
“Bah! Fine, off with ye. Least it’s proper women’s work,” Gideon said bitterly as he turned back to his drink.
Elaine opened her mouth to reply, but thought better of it. It was too early to start this again and she was already starting to feel sick with anxiety. So, she turned towards the counter instead and picked up an old wicker basket. As she strode towards the door, her father spoke up once more.
“Yer 32, Elaine. You need t’find a husband before yer child rearin’ years are behind ye,” He spat, glaring into the opening of his bottle as though it had done him a personal wrong.
Biting her tongue to keep herself from matching his energy, She walked out the door and slammed it behind her. The bang of wood hitting wood rattled her bones, nearly knocking loose the tears that had threatened to fall down her face. Find a husband? She barely had time to find for herself. Besides, things have worked out just fine ever since she’d stepped up to support the family. It wasn’t a glamorous life, but it was simple and honest. Still, it stung that her father couldn’t be proud of her for her hard work.
The walk down to the market was a short one. The cobblestone rode rose, then sharply dipped downwards towards the docks where fish mongers, bakers, and farmers all shouted joyously for customers to come view the various produce and wares on offer. Elaine made her way to a weather worn old fisher and began to lift the fish by their gills one at a time, inspecting them each.
“Caught ‘em all fresh just this morning, lass.” He declared proudly, his old eyes creasing as he smiled at her. She couldn’t help but smile back, placing a few glittering square emerald coins in his waiting hand.
“These two then,” She said, already starting to relax.
The morning market always had a sort of magic about it. The atmosphere was enough to chase away even the most dour of moods. Be it was the cool fresh breeze coming in from the harbor, the comforting smell of fresh baked bread, or the sounds of friendly villagers, no bad mood could survive here. Elaine took in a deep breath, even enjoying the briny smell of fish as the monger wrapped up her choices and placed them gently in her basket. Just as she was about to turn, she felt a heavy hand land on her shoulder. Without nary a flinch, she turned around and glared playfully up at the dark skinned face of her employer, Percy Thatch. He beamed back down at her with a sunshine smile that seemed to chase clouds away.
“Will blow me down, if it isn’t Elaine Dawson skulkin’ about in the wee hours of the mornin’!” He said with a cheerful laugh. Damn that smile of his, it was even more contagious than the fish monger’s!
“Here I thought I’d have a peaceful morning,” Elaine grinned back, punching his side playfully.
“No such luck darlin’,” He winked and directed her across the lane towards a produce stall. She let him, glad for his company. She certainly could use it.
For a time, the two were happy to make small talk. The weather, idle gossip about the trade workers, and the latest news about the New Empire. Elaine welcomed the distraction, filling her basket as they passed by each market stall down the lane.
As they came to the far side of the harbor, a beautifully crafted ship came into view. She was made of pine, spruce, and oak, the contrasting colors of her timbers making for a mosaic of wood. Even her iron trimmings were polished to a mirror finish, adding to her spectacle. Her bleached white sails reflected light in a dazzling display that was hard to turn one’s gaze from. Upon her side, her name was proudly painted – Claudia.
“Stars, they really out did themselves didn’t they?” Elaine exclaimed, admiring the masterful craftsmanship.
“Aye,” Percy replied. “She’s nearly done, too. I reckon they’ll be hirin’ on crew any day now.”
He rubbed his short beard as he mused, looking sideways down at Elaine from the corner of his eye.
“Ever think about applyin’? I could get ye in on a good recommendation,” He said thoughtfully.
“Me? Oh...stars no!” She put her hands up, waving them. “Who’d be here to take care of my folks? Pa can’t work and ma’s real sick! They need me,”
“Alright, alright, ease yourself there lass. T’was just a thought,” He laughed, patting her shoulder gently.
“I’d love to go. Don’t get me wrong,” Elaine sighed, place her hand over his as it rested on her shoulder. “It’s just…”
“You have a duty to your family, I know.” Percy replied with an understanding smile. “You’re a good daughter and a kind soul,”
Percy was quiet a moment, then cleared his through.
“Well then, I’ll be off. Gotta get back to the docks where my sorry arse belongs!” He gave Elaine one final pat on the back, beaming down at her. “You take care of yourself, ye hear?”
“I’ll do the best I can,” Elaine replied, digging her fish into his ribs playfully before stepping back. As the two parted ways, Elaine turned her attention towards a small ruckus down on one of the piers. An old sailor was trying to shake his fussing wife off as she argued with him.
“Dang it woman, I told you I’ll be back by sun down!” He could be heard shouting. “A man’s not worth anything unless he’s working!”
“Just one day off, you stubborn old goat!” She shot back. “You have to let yourself rest! Hard work ain’t everything! You need to slow down!”
The two continued their spat as Elaine walked back up the hill towards her street. She couldn’t help thinking; Slow down? As if anyone had that luxury. She brushed the very idea off, trudging her way back up the road until she finally reached the peak, and made her way down towards her door. As she finally made it, she heard unfamiliar voices inside.
