Voices Scene 1
by Richard Perkins
Howard leaned hard on the tiller, reveling in the spray of sea foam across the smooth almond colored skin of his bare arms. The little sailcraft obligingly skimmed along the curling crests of blue-green waves. She was light as air, sleek as an otter, fast as the sea, expensive as pure sin, and Howard’s very favorite possession.
Shaking his head to clear a damp strand of brown hair from his eyes, he leaned farther out as he cut his heading closer to the wind. The port side of the skimmer lifted out of the water entirely and the boat shot forward with speed as Howard let out a whoop of delight. Peering ahead he saw Jenson’s skimmer carving across the thriving port of Westrim’s outer harbor, mere seconds in the lead. Susan was hot on Howard’s heels. But he had just cut neatly across Susan’s heading, putting her in a wind shadow that dropped her speed even as it boosted his. Now Rob was taking advantage of Susan’s sudden change in fortune to pull into third place.
“Scurvy bootlegger! I’ll have your hide!” Susan shouted out her challenge across the waves.
Howard bellowed out his best maniacal laugh. “Moowa ha ha ha! You’ll have to catch me first landlubber!” Rob and Susan both burst out into peals of laughter as Howard continued to pull ahead. Squinting forward again, Howard saw that he was closing the gap on Jenson. The black haired merchant’s son scowled ferociously as he cranked on the sheets, trying to eke more speed out of his straining skimmer.
That was the trouble with Jenson, Howard thought. There was no joy in his sailing, just vengeful competitive malice. Howard thought the other boy had his sheet wound too tightly as a general rule. Howard, on the other hand, rode the waves with wild, reckless abandon. Winning wasn’t the point. Or at least it wasn’t the only point. Howard always took some pride in beating pricks like Jenson and his cronies. But that was when he was back on land. Out here, the ocean was his joy and his reason for being.
Maybe that was why the sea spoke to him. He listened. He had first noticed it in the summer of his eighth seasonturn. His mother Elise had taken him to collect shells from a tide pool. Even now he remembered the fierce joy he had felt at seeing the ocean and all its mysteries contained in miniature in the shallow water.
His connection to the sea had only grown stronger as he got older. Now, at nineteen ‘turns, the tawny eyed boy could navigate currents better than sailors twice his age. Sometimes, he thought he could even feel the will of the deep stirring beneath the surface. His racing buddies were all children of the sea. Susan and Jenson were well salted by the time they were twelve ‘turns. And Rob, by all accounts, had his hand on the tiller before he learned to talk. But Howard just knew that the sea didn’t talk to them the way it did to him.
Now for example, he felt an upsurge ahead. Jenson was upwind and running close hauled. Howard would fall into his wind shadow in a moment and that would be the end of the race for him. He could tack across to the upwind side, but then he would lose momentum as Jenson sped ahead to the finish line. But the surge ahead would change all of that.
Howard wasn’t sure how he knew about the surge. He saw the change in the rippled wave pattern on the surface that indicated a strong wind gust. Jenson no doubt saw it too. Howard saw the olive skinned boy tighten his grip as he prepared to grab the maximum lift he could out of the slipstream.
But somehow, Howard also sensed something just beneath the surface. It was a kind of color change in the water, but even that description was not complete. For Howard, the sensation was tactile and audible as much as visual. It told him there was a ripping cross-current from the starboard side just below the surface ahead. The skimmers were incredibly light craft with a lot of sail and deep centerboards. Howard knew that combining a sudden port side wind shear with an equally strong starboard side cross current was a recipe for disaster. Or, in the right hands, a recipe for a leaping burst of speed.
Grinning like a madman, he roared aloud as he closed the gap. “You can run but you can’t hide Jenson!”
“Dream on dirtspawn!” Jenson held his course, leaned fully out over the port rail.
At the last possible moment, Howard let out a fistful of sheet. His speed plummeted and Jenson roared in triumph as he surged ahead. But his success was short-lived. The wind turned a few points to port just as the cross-current slammed into his centerboard from starboard. With his skimmer already heeled over from running close hauled, Jenson had nowhere to go but over. His glorious skimmer capsized in moments, catapulting the spluttering Jenson headlong into the waves.
Howard tacked two points to port as he cut into the slipstream. He nosed into the slipstream on the perfect course to run close hauled again as he wound his fistful of sheet back in tight. Propelled by the wind shear and the extra lift from the cross current, Howard shot around the capsized Jenson’ port side like a bolt of lightening. He threw Jenson a jaunty salute as he sprinted toward the finish, leaving a channel of foaming froth in his wake. “I’m the merchant sailor son of a merchant sailor son, and don’t you forget it, dirtspawn!”
Laughing with glee, Rob and Susan overtook Jenson’s capsized skimmer, crossing the finish comfortably in second and third place.
By the time Jenson had uprighted his skimmer and skulled the wallowing ship back to the dock, Howard, Rob and Sarah already had their gear racked.
Jenson, soaked to the last stitch of his fifty gold designer sailing outfit, slapped away the hands of his ever-present retainer, Benji
“Sir, if you will just allow me to dry that for you sir…”
“I can bloody well do it myself, you idiot! Now make yourself useful and get my skimmer cleaned up or you’ll be scraping barnacles from the garbage scows before morning!”
Benji nodded curtly, thoroughly accustomed to Jenson’s abuse.
Susan nodded down the dock toward spectacle. The motion shook droplets of water from her raven locks as she sipped delicately from an eye popping concoction of fruit and crushed ice. “My, my. Dinner and a show!”
Rob laughed a hearty chuckle. The smile lit up face. But then he grimaced as he pointed with his chin. “Oh, pity. Now there will have to be blood.”
Howard followed Susan and Rob’s gaze to where Jenson stormed down the docks toward them. His dark eyes sparkled with a malice that Howard could only laugh at. He couldn’t be bothered, frankly. Getting a good mad on like that took some serious work.
He shrugged his shoulders at his two childhood friends. “Oh, he will be put out, won’t he? He’ll never get the smell of the harbor out of that slicker!” The three friends burst into helpless laughter as the sun beat down on their red ochre skin. Howard made no attempt to conceal his laughter as Jenson descended on them.
“Jenson! Glad you could make it. I believe there are wagers to settled?” Howard smiled innocently at the glowering boy.
“There will be no settling up this time Howard. That was sabotage! I’ll have you before the Guild for damages to my skimmer before quint’s end.”
Howard raised his eyebrow. “Sabotage? Well that’s certainly a distinctive way to duck out on a bet Jenson. Points for creativity, wouldn’t you say Susan?”
Susan rolled her golden brown eyes expressively. “Oh definitely. But I’d have to deduct points for credibility, even for someone from Franklin’s clan.”
Rob looked from the nonchalant Howard to the irate Jenson. “I’m afraid she’s got you dead to rights on that one Jenson. Howard was a full span behind when you took your unfortunate spill. Besides, I see that Benji has already put your skimmer to rights. I don’t see any damage that a good bailing bucket and a towel can’t fix.”
Howard flashed a devil may care smile. “Or you could use slicker you’re went into the drink with, since it’s already wet.”
Jenson’s face went from olive to livid scarlet and his nostrils flared. “Why you impudent son of a dirt trader’s draft lizard…”
Howard held up a placatory hand. “Now Jenson, don’t be that way. We all saw it. You just misread the currents a got a bit overwhelmed. No real harm done. It could have happened to any of us, right?”
Howard looked to the others. Susan hesitated only for a moment before shrugging here shoulders. “Oh, certainly. Why not?”
Rob nodded gamely enough. “Oh definitely, it could have happened to anyone in your position Jenson. The outer harbor tides are notoriously tricky.”
The red leaked away from Jenson’s face. But Howard could see that it was replaced by a cold, calculated, and long burning fury. “It didn’t happen to you though, did it Howard?”
Howard shrugged off the comment. “You know me Jenson, just lucky.” Susan and Rob exchanged an uncomfortable look. Howard was saved from having to respond any further by Jenson’s retainer Benji.
“Sir, the skimmer is ready. Some of the tackle was a bit tangled, but there is no permanent damage. Shall I have it taken to Master Franklin’s private dock for cleaning?”
Jenson sniffed, drawing himself up in an attempt to look down his hawk-like nose at Howard. “This isn’t over Howard. I will end you, luck or no luck.”
“Jenson, I do believe that is the nicest threat you have ever made me. Really, I’m touched.”
“Settle the wagers Benji. I’m taking the carriage to the family estate. You’ll have to rejoin me there later.” The haughty youth turned on his heel to stride off toward his family carriage. It would have been a fine gesture too, if his wet shoe hadn’t squelched quite so loudly in the process.
Howard, Rob and Susan could barely stifle their giggles as the affronted Jenson stormed away. They settled down when Benji politely cleared his throat. “I believe there is a financial matter to settle?”
Rob, coughed to conceal his laughter. “Yes, yes. Five gold, straight up the ladder.”
Howard watched as Jenson’s servant withdrew a fat purse from his purple died robes and reached into it. He counted five gold out into Susan’s palm, and then five more into Rob’s, before dropping a final five shiny coins into Howard’s open hand. Susan handed her five coins to directly over to Rob. Then she fished five more gold suggestively from her bodice. She dropped it into Howard’s hand, letting each coin clink as it fell. Rob shook his head and handed Howard a stack of five gold coins pinched neatly between his forefinger and thumb.
Howard felt the comfortable weight of the fifteen gold coins in his hand. Benji blinked his jet black eyes once. It was a week’s spending allowance for Howard and his friends. Then again, Howard thought, it was probably more than the retainer made in a month. On a whim, Howard flipped one of the coins to Benji through the salt laden sea air. “For your troubles.”
After catching the spinning coin deftly with his right hand, Benji eyed Howard for a moment that stretched uncomfortably long. He glanced back up the dock as Jenson slammed the door on his carriage. It clattered away up the cobbled streets toward the heart of Westrim, and Jenson’s hard bitten retainer turned back to look at Susan, Rob and Howard in turn. He casually reached out and dropped the offered coin back onto the pile of Howard’s winnings. “Keep it. You’ll have need of it sooner than you think.”
With that cryptic message, Benji tucked the Franklin family purse back into his robes. Nodding curtly to the young aristocrats, he turned his back on the sea and marched smartly out of the harbor.
“Oh, Jenson could learn a thing or two from him!” Susan waggled her eyebrows appreciatively.
Rob snorted. “His exit was certainly better.”
Howard looked at his cohorts. “Right then. You heard the man. I think I’ll have need of all this gold in the tavern immediately.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Susan finished the last of the fruit colored melting slush in her glass as the trio stood up from their wood and canvas dock chairs. Then, taking one of the boys on either arm, she sauntered purposefully out of the harbor toward their favorite drinking hole.
