2. Joy
JOY
“Kai, Goddess of sea and protector of Dayra, please send us a bountiful summer and blessed, calm waters.”
- A PRAYER FOR THE OCEAN, MOSTLY USED BY THE PEOPLE OF DAYRA.
The reddish-brown vessel, littered with green and orange barnacles, swayed gently in Port Dayra. I floated beside our ship for a moment longer, dwelling in the silent bliss that the water gifted me. Feeling it’s reassuring push at my back, forever keeping me safe and warm.
“Joy!” Jameson called in a singsong voice.
I screwed my eyes shut, trying to ignore him until he sung again, his voice louder and shriller. I pulled myself beneath the waves, silence engulfing me softly. Floating gently, my hair a crown above my head, I thought of tonight’s celebrations. Huffing a breath as I broke through the surface, I launched into a hasty breaststroke toward the rope ladder. Each time I swam toward the boat, I felt as though I was swimming back to the real world and unwelcome nausea swept through me.
I heave my sodden body up the rope ladder reluctantly, wringing the salt water from my hair when I reached the top.
“That ‘drowned rat’ look is really working for you, Joy. You almost have me weak at the knees,” Jameson drawled from the opposite deck, his long body folded into a broken and lop-sided armchair.
“Really?” I asked sarcastically, before peeling of my sodden shirt and hanging it over another broken piece of furniture that, perhaps in its last (and less destructive) home, might have been a chair. I rolled my eyes.
“Don’t forget,” Jameson called after me as I left the deck, the sun bouncing off his short blonde hair, “We’re docking for Kai’d tonight. Remember, it’s a celebration, Joy, maybe put on a dress? Or just your nice work boots?”
I cringed but nodded over at him before disappearing into the cabin. I had forgotten that tonight was Kai’d. This evening, the whole island would come alive for the celebration of Kai, Goddess of the Sea.
There was no point in arguing the demand that every boat must dock during the celebration; it was Dayra’s oldest rule, claiming that “we must give the ocean a day of peace and tranquility”.
I shivered at the thought, making my way through the cluttered mess that was once was my room. When the twins joined our crew last month, there was no use in demanding space, or privacy. I often longed for the days when the beaten old ship belonged only to me and my parents. We spent hours, sometimes days, floating in the ocean. No plans, no people, and no distractions. Only us. Like we were the only people left on the planet.
But there was no use wishing for things that were impossible, there was no use dreaming about my own space when everyone aboard our ship shared a room, if not a bed, with someone else. I peeled my soaked underwear and t-shirt off until I stood completely nude, reaching for the sheer orange dress that I hid in the back of my closet, only to be worn once a year on Kai’d.
I huffed a sigh, throwing the dress on my makeshift bed and heading to the basin to wash away the salt and grime of hours at sea. It felt as though I was scrubbing away a layer of my skin. Scrubbing away the protection that the ocean gave me, I felt vulnerable for a long moment and took a breath, straightening my back. I looked through a crack in the planks, it was already way past midday. All boats needed to be docked before the sun began to set.
I washed my body roughly and combed my hair, wrapping my curls up in a satin scarf for protection. The scratchy material of my sunset orange dress ended just before my knees. It sat in two layers, one a tight, stretchy layer that started with two thin straps and wrapped snuggly around my body and the other, a sheer, lighter layer with bellowing sleeves that was placed over the top.
“Wow, Joy,” Kassy said from the doorframe, her voice thick with awe.
“You look beautiful,” Lacy finished her sister’s sentence for her.
The twins were the youngest members of our crew, they joined a few weeks after their fifteenth birthday, although they acted much younger. They travelled from Zetka when their parents had been killed in battle. They were striking, not only because of their beauty but also their pale skin. Our crew had picked up orphans, strays, or defectives from every corner of the continents, but we had never seen skin so icy and pale. I looked down at my own creamy brown skin and then glanced back to the twins. My face split into a grin.
“Thank you! But look at you two.” I struggled with the compliment. surely, they were too old for matching dresses.
“Did you find them in the Gally?” I asked, pointing to the gingham printed dresses gingerly. If Jameson struggled to tell them apart before, he would have no hope now.
“Yes! They’re great, aren’t they?” Lacy said, her north continent accent sharpening her T’s and R’s.
“Here,” Lacy said, passing me a turquoise flower, “Everyone gets a flower today.” She grinned before both girls skipped down the hall and onto the upper deck.
I crumpled my face into a sour grin as they left… What had happened to make them so childlike and immature? I dreaded to find out.
“…Seven, eight.” I looked up from where my hand rested on Romy’s head. At twenty-four, he was short and round, but moved faster than any of us, scuttling like a crab. He looked up through his cropped ginger curls at me. “I only count eight,” I called over to Jameson.
“Joy! I’m right here, for Kai’d sake! You don’t need to count my head anymore,” Jameson argued as he trudged over to me. I smiled smugly before bopping his head with my hand.
“Nine!” I shouted sarcastically. “The family are all here!” My smile lasted only a moment before I headed for the gangplank.
Jameson, Lolita, and I had created the counting game when we first decided to set sail from the Southern continent to the Northern. Lolita, the eldest of all three of us insisted it was the only way to make sure we would all stay together and safe. Not long after, the count went from three to four to five and so on. I smiled down at my scruffy work boots as I recalled those first days when we felt like the world was our own. I looked back at Jameson, throwing him a smile to soften his ego before turning to my left, to where Lolita usually stood.
A small part of my insides turned to ashes.
I took a breath.
No matter how much time had passed, I would not ever stop turning to my left.
I could almost feel her there, see her. The soft, low hum of her voice, the fiery red of her hair, and the way the waves cascaded down her back. The way she smiled. The way she always knew what to say. The way she held me when the sea was rough, and then again when we were much older, giggling and touching with shaky hands.
I closed my eyes and slowly breathed in the scent of the ocean.