Three
1656 Words
Three
Edith and I were preparing to walk the docks again that evening, still hoping to find me a boat. She had returned from the trip into town and found me deep in the bilge, holding the pump and hose together while Peter tried to reconnect everything. Tools were strewn all over the boat, storage lockers emptied out, and both Peter and I were drenched in sweat. Edith had shooed me out of the boat, and as I walked down the dock to the pool, the sound of her scolding Peter faded.
I secretly hoped we would run into Eivind again, especially now that I was clean and feeling more deserving of flirting with a hot guy.
As if by fate, Edith pointed and said, “Oh, this one might be right for you. They’re around your age, take on crew, and it’s a beautiful boat.”
My eyes roamed over the boat as we walked down the dock. Eik was written on the bow, and she was beautiful. The deck was open and uncluttered, and the stainless steel shone (something I’d learned takes an inordinate amount of time to polish). Instead of the rough nonskid fiberglass that some boats had, Eik’s deck was striped brown with thin black lines. The middle of the deck, like most boats, bulged up to accommodate the cabin, but Eik was low and sleek.
Edith knocked on the boat. “Jonas! Eivind!”
I perked up, and delightful bubbles of anticipation hit my stomach.
Eivind climbed out of the boat first, and he was ready with a smile for Edith, but his grin lit up even more when he saw me. “Ah, Lila, I knew you could not stay away,” he crowed.
“Oh, you’ve met?” Edith nudged me playfully.
“Come in, come in. It is just Jonas and me here right now. The girls are at the pool.”
The whos are in the what now? Those playful bubbles popped with a sour taste.
I followed behind Edith as we climbed into Eik’s cockpit and I hid my disappointment over a potential girlfriend. Another man climbed up out of the boat, obviously related to Eivind: they had the same strong jawline, fair skin, and bright blue eyes. Where Eivind was stacked with drool-inducing muscles, Jonas was taller and leaner. When I repeated his name back—Yonas—he clarified that it was spelled with a J. His hair was long and curled around the edges, a contrast to Eivind’s close-cropped blond cut.
“How did your project turn out?” Eivind asked me as we settled into the bench seats around the cockpit.
“That was the end of my hard work, thankfully. Peter got the pump back in working order, and I suspect I didn’t have a whole lot to do with it.”
“You were very helpful, dear.” Edith patted my knee. “Speaking of which, Lila here is looking to be a linehandler through the canal. Do you have your date yet?”
Jonas shook his head and focused his attention on me. “No, but the agent comes tomorrow. I was going to hire a linehandler through him.” Eivind nudged Jonas. “But you could save us some money,” Jonas finished with a smile.
“Right.” I nodded. “And I can cook and clean, too. But I don’t know much about, like, knots or anything . . . seamanship . . . stuff.”
“I can teach her what she needs to know,” Edith assured them.
“That is okay,” Jonas said. “Marcella and Elayna know what to do, and you will most likely just be along for the ride.”
“A warm body,” I agreed.
“You should come by tomorrow morning. You can meet the rest of our crew and then the agent, Robert, will come in the afternoon to give us the details.”
We made plans for me to swing by after breakfast the next day, and Edith and I departed.
Down the dock, I did a little jig next to Edith and sang, “I’m going to find a boat, I’m going to find a boat.”
We laughed and bumped hips. I threw a last glance over my shoulder, and Eivind was on the bow of Eik, holding on to the rigging and watching us walk away.
When we got back to Silver Lining, Peter was nearly done cooking dinner. I collapsed dramatically onto the couch.
“He’s so cute.”
“I know, that whole boat. Everyone’s so young and good-looking, it makes me wish I were decades younger.”
I lifted my head up. “Those guys would be chuffed to have you, I’m sure.”
Edith barked a laugh. “I hate to say it, dear, but I think maybe he’s got a partner,” she said while pouring herself another beer.
I sat up straight. “Really? He was so flirty.”
She held out her hands, palms up. “Maybe I’m wrong. You two would be a gorgeous couple, in my humble opinion.”
“Aw, thanks. Well, maybe he’s single, maybe he isn’t. Either way, I can’t wait for tomorrow.”
Whether Eivind was available or not, I reminded myself that this trip wasn’t about having a fling. A fling would just be a momentary distraction, and I wasn’t going to let anything disrupt my plans.
I lay in bed the next morning, thinking about my new possibilities. If Eik worked out, I would accomplish what I came here to do—transit the canal. I couldn’t help but think of Eivind, too. He was very good-looking, and I could already tell he was a flirt. But my first priority was to transit the canal—not get into shenanigans with a hot sailor.
Not counting my chickens before they hatched, I still announced on the morning net that I was available to crew.
After the net, I walked down the dock to Eik and along the side pier. A figure stood in the cockpit, and he poked his head around the canvas when I called good morning. Mouth full and toast waving in the air, Jonas gestured to me to come in.
I picked my way around to the cockpit and climbed down onto a seat. Jonas swallowed his bite of brekkie and wished me a god morgen. People rustled around downstairs in the cabin and the scents of butter browning and sticky jam wafted out.
I settled into a cushion on the seat. “So, where did you sail from to get here?”
He swallowed the last bite of his toast and told me about the trip from Grenada. It took six days for Eik to sail over.
“Beautiful spinnaker sailing,” Jonas said.
I made a mental note to ask Peter and Edith what a spinnaker was.
At one point, Eivind’s head came up, followed by his arm and a plate with two pieces of sliced bread. “God morgen, Lila. Toast? Coffee?”
“Oh, coffee, please, and thank you. I already ate.”
Eivind shrugged and set the plate down on the table. He disappeared back into the boat to return a few moments later with a jar of jam and a knife.
“Hey!” a lightly accented voice called out from below. “Thief! That’s my jam.”
“My boat, my jam,” said Eivind. He sat across from me and tucked into his brekkie.
A woman walked up the stairs holding another plate with a piece of toast and some cut-up fruit. She put her free hand on her hip. “It is not your boat.”
Eivind smirked at her. “Then it is not my jam.”
The woman huffed at Eivind and used her free hand to ruffle what little hair Eivind had. She sat down next to him cross-legged and put her plate in her lap. “Who is this?”
“Lila, Marcella. Marcella, Lila.”
Marcella was leggy and older than the rest of us. Her tanned skin and light accent led me to guess she came from Italy or Spain.
As Marcella dug into her breakfast, Jonas set aside his plate and turned to face me.
“So, the canal.”
I clasped my hands together in front of me. “Yes.”
“As you know, we need five people total; the captain, which is me, and four linehandlers, ja?”
I nodded. I’d read what to expect online in blog posts, so this information was not new.
“We will discuss the configurations today with the officials,” he went on, “and we will be assigned a date soon. It is a two-day trip, and you would be departing from our boat in La Playita Marina on the other side of the canal. This is good?”
“Yes, so far so good. Will you want me to chip in for food?”
Jonas waved the question away. “For one night, it is fine.”
“I can cook? I know you have to feed the canal officer dinner.”
Jonas gestured his mug toward Marcella before taking a sip. “Marcella is our chef—and a professional—so she cooks all our meals.”
Around a mouthful of brekkie, Marcella interjected, “You can clean, though.”
“Of course. Where will I sleep?” I eyed the cushions around the cockpit. Sometimes the linehandlers—even the professional ones—slept out in the cockpit at night.
“Yes, where is she going to sleep?” Eivind c****d his head at his brother.
Jonas cleared his throat. “She will sleep in the crew cabin with Marcella.”
Eivind and Marcella exchanged looks I couldn’t read. “Then where will Elayna sleep?”
“She’ll stay in my cabin.” Jonas avoided meeting his brother’s gaze, and Marcella watched the two carefully. When neither took the conversation further, Marcella ignored them and smiled at me. “We have bunk beds, like a slumber party.”
I set my mug down. “Okay, hold on. Jonas and Elayna are . . .” There was a lot of avoiding eye contact and squirming, while Eivind smirked at Marcella. “Complicated?”
“Ah . . . yes,” Jonas confirmed.
I turned to Eivind and Marcella. “What about you two?”
The smug smile on Eivind’s face slipped to mock horror. “Ew.”
Marcella gasped as Jonas rolled his eyes. “Ew? You would be lucky to have me, you idiota!” She pinched his side.
“You’re old enough to be my mother, heks!”
Jonas calmly leaned back and drank his coffee. I leaned over to him. “What does heks mean?”
“‘Witch.’”
When the sibling-like banter dissolved to hair pulling—on Eivind’s part—Jonas gently chided his brother.
Eivind straightened and grinned at me. “The most important point is, I am single.”
“Stop flirting with our new crew member, Eivind,” Jonas said.
- Writer
