Hiraeth

Chapter Seventeen

As Death walks me around, I observe the pirates who’ve teased me earlier go about their everyday work. On the surface, they look bored and sleepy. But if I look a little longer, I can sense their gloomy aura. The reason? Unknown.

I am so accustomed to reading people behind their masks that it’s so easy for me to tell something is bothering them. For sure, it’s something to do with their discussion earlier.

I stop myself before I can ask Death and mingle with their business. Whatever they are feeling right now is out of my control. They sure don't want me to comfort them. So, I'll act like nothing’s going on. It’s hard for a curious woman like me when my conspiracy theorist instincts kick in, but since I have something to divert my mind, which is my work for today, it’s somehow easier for me.

I still hate the pirates, though. If they didn't give me a snake, I wouldn't be this upset. I'll probably thank them for their kindness. Right now, I don't think I can. If I have to force myself, it's not genuine.

“Old Sammy!” Death calls someone, making me turn my head and follow his gaze to a, perhaps, mid-40’s man with a long beard that reminds me of Santa Clause. He waves when he sees us.

Death pulls me, and I am too tired to argue, so I let him be. It doesn't take much time to reach Old Sammy, and now I find out that he has a short, stocky build. He's just up to my shoulder. I can't tell if he has dwarfism because he's a bit tall for it.

Death nudges me. When I look at him, he nods towards Old Sammy, prompting me to introduce myself.

I sigh, extending my hand for a shake. “Hi! I'm Polaris.”

Old Sammy smiles, displaying his rotten teeth, which is like a trend in this world.

“Old Sammy,” he replies and takes my hand. “Nice to meet you, Kid. I hope you’ll last here.”

I hope so. It’s what I want to reply to, but it turns out like this. “I don't think I can. Knowing that the snake is still here, I can feel I’ll be dead by dawn.”

“The snake won't kill you,” Old Sammy says.

I try my best not to be rude, even if I'm upset right now. “Yes, it will. If not because of its venom, it may be because of a heart attack.”

“It isn't scary, kid.”

“It is!” I insist, startling him because of the sudden rise of my voice. So, I try to calm myself down and make my voice low. “Snakes don't bark, Old Sammy, and that snake does. It scares the hell out of me.”

If he’s not scared, I do. All people have a certain level of bravery, and mine has decreased the day I’ve entered this world. Until now, I feel like what's left of my courage is subsiding.

“That kind of snakes bark when it smells—”

“Witch,” someone interrupts. I recognize his voice, and it belongs to a person that I don't expect to talk to me today. It’s Storm. He truly has a way of interrupting a conversation.

I turn to face him and place my two hands on my hip. “You know what? You're a jerk for telling a beautiful woman a witch.”

He shrugs and then turns to Death. “Father will talk to ye.”

I see Death nod in my periphery. “Take her to her work then.” Death looks at me. “Work hard, North Star!” He then winks.

I roll my eyes and watch him walk gracefully away from us. He waves to some pirates along the way—a happy b*stard. But I know it’s only a mask.

“I’ll get going then,” Old Sammy says, still flashing a smile. When he's away, I look around immediately to see if there are still pirates. There are, but they are far from us, which is safe to talk to Storm.

I reach for Storm's hand and pull him closer, so I can whisper. “Does that snake bark if it smells witch?”

He gazes at me then pulls the arm that I'm holding.

“B—But I'm not a witch. They're only stories!” I stutter. “Nothing but myths and legends. They're what people believe made to be entertainment. But then.” I chew my lips. “Where did the stories come from in the first place?” My face lights up, but at the same time, I'm scared and fascinated. “The f*ck, they're real?”

I still can't believe it. But then I remember my encounter with that old s***h gorgeous woman. It could be.

“I met a woman that can change her appearance yesterday,” I say. I can tell he gets curious when he finally looks at me.

“That might be a witch, right?” I ask. That woman uses black magic to copy anyone's face.

He shrugs. Yeah, he's not interested.

“Tell me more about witches!” I insist.

“Don't forget,” he says. “Work.”

I hunch my shoulder and pout. Yeah, I will be working from this day on.

“Okay, get me to my work. I promise you all will be thankful that I'm here.”

Without words, he starts walking. I follow suit, going back to observe the pirates. From the helm, I catch sight of Death. He also has a gloomy aura. Even if he's smiling and annoying the h*ll out of me, there's also something on him right now. Then here's Storm. If he's also hiding his emotion, he sure is not doing quite well. Or is it only me that sees it? In other views, they will see him as cold or arrogant, but to me, I can tell there's also something he's hiding.

We arrive at the kitchen without further saying anything and are welcomed by a mess and foul odor, making my hands fly to my mouth not to smell the disgusting air.

It seems like no one washes the plates. Bottles of wine are on every corner. Fruits of different kinds are rotten, and flies are swarming on them. Some boxes are empty, resting on one side.

“What the f*ck! You all live like this?”

I stare at the mess in front of me in disbelief. I am not backing out just because of this, but sh*t! It’s not the work I imagine, and I can't believe this part of the ship that’s supposed to be clean is this messy. My anger issue might not handle this a little longer.

“Clean this mess,” Storm says. Finally, he leaves me alone. Even if he doesn't say it, I know he's also disgusted.

I know they are all grown-up men, and maybe they are busier in making this old ship last long in the ocean, so they don't have much time cleaning this. But seriously? No one points this out? I mean, I'm sure someone is bothered by this mess. It might be Death. Or Storm. Or Captain Arkean also.

The f*ck! Why does no one bother to clean this one?

Is this a prank? Captain Arkean has told me I am a cook. Then what is this mess? A cook and a cleaner are two different things aside from their spelling.

I stomp my feet. My dress will be dirty because of this. It's not super clean, but this one is my favorite dress of the two clothes I have. So, I’ve decided to go back to my room. No one is there. They are all on the above deck, making me anxious again because I remember the snake.

What's the smell of a witch, by the way? And the h*ll with that snake! It isn't reliable in witch-hunting because, duh! I'm a human. Well, my wild, curly hair is indeed the same as the typical witch. But again, I'm not a witch.

Anyway, I want to wear my old clothes again when it's the first one I get from the paper bag but decide not to because I need to be on the trend in this world which this short dress offers. It is the same as the pirates' women I've seen. But there's one more thing missing. Aside, of course, from new underwear. A boot is what I also need. I'll ask Captain Arkean about it. Maybe he'll buy me on my payday. In the meantime, I need to clean. Sorry for this fabulous dress that made its debut in a dirty kitchen.

I take a deep breath, and my eyes fall into the box again. Now it only has a piece of white cloth. I can still imagine the snake on it, and it makes the hair at the back of my neck rise. Even so, I take it and throw it on the farthest side of the room. To my surprise, black leather boots roll on the floor.

It seems like heaven-sent. So I rush towards it. I still can't believe it. It means the snake is only for the pirates’ bullying, but the real gift is this.

I examine the boots, and I can tell it suits me well. I wear it as soon as I get rid of my old shoes. The shoes just ended halfway on my knee, and it feels comfortable because it fits me well. My respect for the person who bought it is up. I need to ask Captain Arkean about this. I think I might hug the person who gives me this.

I’m smiling ear to ear as I go back to the kitchen. It makes me feel good, and I will work hard because of this.

I may not see my appearance because we don't have a mirror, but I'm sure I look fabulous. I also braid my hair loose so it won't block my view.

I begin by picking up the boxes and folding them in an organized manner—still struggling because of the smell. It is strong, and I need a mask, but there isn't one here, so I guess I'll have to deal with it. I set all the boxes to the side. Now I'm picking the bottles and putting them in an empty box. All in all, it takes three large ones to put everything together. They sure drink so d*mn well, but they can't clean their mess after.

It feels like an hour, but there are still so many things to do. I still need to deal with the most challenging and disgusting things here—the rotten food. Soon, I will teach them that many people don't have food or eat something like this. They have wasted so much food without thinking of those people that suffer.

“Gosh! They steal food from others, but then they can't eat it all,” I mumble. “They could have just given it to others who needed it the most.” I get a plastic bag that serves as my makeshift glove. “The f*ck! They even wasted this apple!” I pick the apple and put it into another empty box.

“I will understand them if they steal for a living but . . .” I dramatically spread my arms wide to point with my hands at the mess. “All of this, it's wasted!”

I sigh. “I've been f*cking starving the whole day!”

“Then eat.”

“What the f*ck!” I abruptly turn around, and Storm comes into view. He's back against the wall. His hands are inside his pocket.

“How long have you been here?”

“From gosh,” he says monotonously.

So, this means he's heard it all? But what annoys me the most is when he's already here and doesn't even bother to help me. I need other hands.

“Come on, help me here so that I can eat.”

He stares at nothing in particular.

“Psh! Just get out if you won't help me.”

And he does get out. I shake my head.

“Change clothes,” he says before he can leave.

I don't get what he means. The one I'm wearing is awesome! He might not know fashion. So, I ignore what he has said. I feel confident in this dress, as if I'm one of their kind, and I am not the old Polaris. As if I have a new identity.

I began cleaning again. I keep my mouth shut now when I've disturbed the flies. They fly around me, thus, making me run outside. I cringe. They are so dirty! It takes a lot of hard work, and no one even lends me a hand. If someone helps me, I'll finish this fast.

But then I need to prove myself worthy on this ship. I must do it. If I don't, the pirates will kill me.

Even if my thoughts are brutal, it becomes my motivation to enter the kitchen again and finish this. But another jerk comes again to ruin my momentum.

“Nice dress,” Death says, followed by a whistle.

“Let me take a rest from your bullshit. I'm exhausted and need to finish this so I can eat and rest.”

“The effort to get it,” he says and smirks. “Not wasted.”

“What do you mean?” My eyes widen. The realization dawns on me. “You're the one who got this?”

“The girl gives it to me.”

The girl he means is a hundred percent sure, the waitress!

“And the boots, did you also buy this?” I ask. I have a bad feeling about this.

His smile widens, and he nods.

F*ck! Forget that I'll hug the person who gave it to me. I can't do it. I will not.

“Why? What's with your expression? You hate it?”

I love it. But I won’t admit it because it’ll just make Death’s head bigger.

Still, I say, “Thank you.”

Before he can speak, I leave him behind. My cheeks are flushing. F*ck it!