Dee Moyza's Story Archive

Home is Where You Hold Me

  

Chapter Seven

The mainland beyond Calmeni was awash in shades of red and yellow, interspersed with the deep green of pines and firs.  On Aselada Island, the grasses grew yellow and brittle, the wildflowers dried up and blew away, and only the stand of pine trees behind the cabin still whispered in the wind.  The nights grew longer, with a chill edge to them, and Argider and Esma had taken to sharing the nightly watch, so that they might have time to prepare the cabin and the garden before winter arrived.

The trellis was complete now, and stood tall at the edge of the garden, ready to take on new vines come spring.  In the garden itself, Esma was on her hands and knees, planting bulbs for spring flowers—tulips, daffodils, lilies, and hyacinths—while taking care to reserve enough room for the seeds and transplanted wildflowers she planned to add once spring actually arrived.  She tapped the soil down over one bulb with the back of her trowel and looked up in time to see Argider crest the hill from the shore, a bundle of firewood under each arm.

"Anything else?" she called to him.

"A couple more trips' worth," he replied.

She rose and dusted her skirt.  "I'll help."  She walked the path to the beach and remembered the first time Argider had offered to do the shopping on his own.  He'd accompanied her to Calmeni before, and seemed alarmed at the amount of curious glances thrown their way by the townsfolk.

"It's only natural," Esma said, shrugging.  "After all, it's been eight years since they've seen me with anyone else."

"And if they ask?"

"Introduce yourself.  They're a mostly decent lot here in Calmeni, friendly enough."

Argider smiled and nodded at a pair of women passing them, who blinked in surprise, then returned the gesture.  "Introduce myself as what?"

"As who you are."  Esma grinned, but she knew what he was truly asking.

"And who am I, to you?  Your friend?  Your lover?  Neither sounds quite right."

"You're right.  You are my friend, but so much more.  And 'lover' sounds so...casual.  Do you suppose I'm too old to have a beau?"

He laughed.  "Not at all!  But others—"

"Will simply have to be satisfied with it."  She stopped and took his hands into hers.  "I'm not sure what to call us, either, not yet.  But it doesn't need a name!  I know how I feel about you, and how you feel about me, and that's more than enough."  She squeezed his hands, and he ran his thumbs over her knuckles.  "Besides, I don't think it's anyone else's business but our own."

"And will you tell them that?  To their faces?"

"I will tell them that I am happy.  The happiest I've been in years!  And you?"

"That's a fine answer.  I'll tell them something similar." 

"Similar?"

"That I'm the happiest I've ever been."  They began walking again, hand in hand.  "That I am truly happy for the first time in my life."

Thus armed with a response for any townsfolk that wished to pry, Argider volunteered to make the trip to Calmeni on his own the following week.  He didn't tell her whether he had fielded any questions, but he did return in good spirits, bearing a small package in addition to those holding food and supplies.  Inside was a clock set into a wooden base meant to be displayed on the mantelpiece and decorated with delicately carved gulls on either side of the clock's face.

"I noticed there was no clock in the cabin," Argider said, "and I thought you might like this one."

Esma smiled and traced one gull with her finger, trying to contain the swell of emotion that rose in her at the realization that Argider had been thinking of her even on his shopping trip.  "It's lovely!  I do like it, very, very much.  Oh, when the old clock broke years ago, I'd had no need for a new one, but now that the cabin's fixed, now that we're there again, we definitely need one!  But you didn't have to."

"I wanted to."  He pulled her close and kissed her forehead.  "I've told you, I love to see you smile."

The next time Esma went to Calmeni on her own, she brought Argider back a small porcelain ship.  It had no practical use, but his eyes lit up when he saw it, and he spent that evening regaling her with stories of his travels on the sea, where he'd been and what he'd seen.  She, too, liked to see him smile, and the ship took its place on the mantel, next to the clock.

And so began a tradition between the two of them to bring back a small gift from Calmeni whenever either of them went to town without the other.  Their collection was still small, but growing, and at the heart of it all, from a small nail hammered into the center of the mantelpiece, hung the clamshell pendant Esma had bought on the fateful day that brought them together, a day that felt like a lifetime ago.

Today, however, the only package Esma found between the bundles of firewood contained food and supplies.  She frowned.  Perhaps Argider had not taken enough money with him this time, or perhaps, he had finally forgotten.  Tradition could quickly become routine, she knew, and maybe that simple, silly episode of their life together had faded into the background.  She hoped it would have lasted a little longer.  With a sigh, she gripped the ropes around the bundles of firewood and began to lift.

"Looking for something?"  Argider's voice caused her to jump, and she let the wood fall back onto the floor of the boat.

"Not particularly."  she readjusted her grip on the ropes.

"You won't find it among the firewood.  I didn't want to risk it breaking."  He fished into his pocket and produced a small wooden box.  Esma set down the firewood again and turned to him.

"You didn't forget!"

"Of course not!  How could I?  Here, I hope you like it."

Esma took the box and flicked open the tiny latch, then lifted the lid.  Immediately, a tinkling little tune began to play, and, once the lid was fully open, a miniscule ship drifted around an island lighthouse, calmly, endlessly.  Esma watched it and laughed softly.

"It's beautiful."

"Not quite as beautiful as the real thing," Argider said, gesturing toward the rest of Aselada Island, "but it captures the sentiment well."

"Sentiment?"

He smiled and lifted the bundles of firewood.  "It's far too late to play coy."

She laughed again and closed the box, setting it gingerly atop the crate of supplies.  Once back at the cabin, she immediately pulled the music box from the crate and set it on the mantelpiece.  She opened it again and watched the ship sail around the lighthouse, steady, constant, everlasting companions.

* * *

Winter in this region of Meraleda was a strange beast.  Though Calmeni did not receive much in the way of snow, temperatures plummeted, and its winter storms were brutal.  Fierce winds, torrential rains, the occasional flurry, all frequently leaving thick fog in their wake.  Because of this, the lighthouse operated around the clock for days at a time.  During these storms, Esma and Argider abandoned the cabin for the lighthouse, alternating four-hour watches through the worst of the weather.

Cold seeped in through the windows of the lantern room and was only effectively dispelled in the kitchen, so Esma and Argider worked in heavy coats and gloves, sweating from exertion and catching a chill as soon as they removed their outerclothes.  For Argider, this resulted in a persistent cold early in the season, through which Esma refused to let him work.  Though she tried her best to keep him confined to the kitchen or the bedroom, he still made his way to the lantern deck, and she finally relented to letting him take the watch on clear nights, provided he was thoroughly bundled up.

On one of these nights, as she was getting ready for bed, he called her back up to the lantern room.

"There's a boat out there," he said, handing her a pair of binoculars, "that appears to be struggling."

Esma peered through the binoculars and caught sight of a small boat as the light passed over it.  Though there were no clouds, the wind had picked up after sunset, and the sea was choppy.  The little boat was being tossed about, making its way toward the harbor and getting pushed back again, and Esma knew it would not be long before the oarsman's strength gave out.

"What do you suppose it's doing out there in such rough weather?" Argider asked.

"It looks like a tour boat that got caught out by darkness.  Though I don't see any visitors aboard."

"Why would they have gone out so late?"

"Better money for the boatman.  Visitors pay well for sunset rides, or riskier trips."  As she spoke, the boat took a wave to its side and made no more effort against the sea.  "I have to get out there."  She headed for the stairs.

Argider followed her.  "Esma, are you out of your mind?  It's dangerous!"

"It's my job."

"Let me go, instead."

She paused on the staircase.  "Argider, I respect your skill and experience as a sailor.  You know the sea well, but so do I, in a different way."  She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.  "I've done this before, long before the night I rescued you.  I know what I'm doing.  I'll be fine."

Argider said nothing.

"What you can do for me," Esma went on, "is keep the light.  I'll need it.  Keep the light, and I'll be fine."

He nodded and watched her disappear down the stairs.

Esma didn't stop to change clothes, but only pulled on a coat and an oilskin and a pair of sturdy boots.  She grabbed the lantern from its place near the door and left the lighthouse, running down to the beach and launching her boat into the water.

She rowed through the strait toward the harbor, turning her back to the waves that sloshed over the side of her boat.  Once away from the island and its shield against the wind, the open sea hit her hard.  She adjusted her grip on the oars and dug into each wave, propelling herself away from the coast toward the boat in distress.  She glanced up at the lighthouse, then followed its beam over the water to her destination.

As she neared the boat, her heart sank to see no one sitting up in it.  She called out, twice, and finally, the top of someone's head poked over the side.

"Lost my oars," the boatman admitted.  "Sea ripped 'em right out of my hands."

"Is there anyone else aboard?" Esma asked.

"One gentleman.  Visitor from the west."

"Is he hurt?"

The boatman smirked as Esma drew nearer, and helped the other man sit up.  "Nothin' but his stomach, I reckon."

"The sea is a cruel mistress, and even crueler teacher."  Esma helped the visitor into the boat, followed by the boatman, and covered them both with oilskins and blankets.  "I'll get you into the harbor, but take care to get warm and dry as soon as possible."

"Oh, much obliged, ma'am."  The boatman cast a glare at the visitor, which drew a meek thank-you from him.

Esma dropped the rescued men off at the harbor, then set off for the lighthouse again.  By the time the beach of Aselada Island came into view, her arms were burning, and her entire body shivered.  The water that she had taken on during her rescue had soaked through the bottom half of her flannel nightgown, and her legs had grown numb with the cold.  She stumbled up the hill, and was only halfway to the top when Argider ran down to meet her.

"Esma!"  He gathered her in his arms.  "You're all right?"

Esma nodded, not trusting her voice to tremble like the rest of her body. 

"You're shivering.  Come on, let's get inside, get you dried off and warmed up."

"I'm all right.  You need to be keeping watch."

"No more vessels out there right now."  He helped her into the lighthouse and up the stairs to the kitchen.  Handing her a pair of towels, he shook his head and sighed.  "All this, for the sake of a fool."

"Perhaps the fool needed the pay."

"But at what cost?  The life of his client?  His own?  Yours?"

Esma laughed.  "It would never be mine.  I know the sea." 

Argider didn't laugh with her.

"It's my job," she reminded him.

Silently, he dropped to his knees and began to dry her legs.  She shed her outerclothes and boots, and took over.  Still, he didn't rise.

"I know it's your job," he said at last, quietly.  "And I know I was one of those fools, once."

"You weren't foolish.  It was an accident."

"You risked your life for me, all the same.  Esma...I thought I knew what that meant, but seeing you tonight, watching you from up here, unable to do anything to help you...I understand how much you did for me."  He kissed the top of her knee.  "I haven't thanked you enough.  Don't know if I ever can."

"Argider."  She ran her hand through his hair.  "You've done more than enough for me.  More than I ever dreamed anyone could.  You're in no debt to me."

He pushed her nightgown up to her hips, placed the towel over her knees and rested his head there.  Esma smiled and removed her nightgown the rest of the way, replacing it with the other towel.  Her shivering had long since stopped, and between the heat of the stove and Argider's warmth, her comfort turned to drowsiness.  She closed her eyes with a contented sigh, and only opened them again to find Argider pulling the covers over her in bed.  She caught his hand and squeezed it, then slipped back into peaceful slumber.