A Haunting Promise

The clomp of heavy boots on hard plank floors made my eyes pop open with excitement. I waited for my dad to enter the room and make his waking call. Dad knew he needed me on these nighttime expeditions, but he was hesitant to take me and that seemed to be the case more when I acted eager for the experience.

He shown his lantern into my moonlit room effectively blinding me. “Get up my dear. There is fog coming off the water. It will be upon the docks soon so I will be needing you tonight,” He sounded reluctant to take me.

I pulled the covers back slowly trying to look annoyed by the intrusion to my sleep, but my heart was racing. My skin was tingling with anticipation of the chilly night air and the sprays of sea foam caressing my skin. I controlled my voice to sound resigned, though, “Yes, Papa. I will be ready in a minute.”

“Don’t dawdle. I expected you at the docks in 5,” he commanded before shutting the door.

With the door shut, I was up and in a hurry. I scrambled to get my boys garb out from under the floorboards, where I hid it from my governess. I didn’t have to hide my sex on the ship and wore britches for their easier maneuverability. I hid them because my governess would throw out any inappropriate clothing choices she happened to find. I hastily put them on, thankful she had not found this latest stash. It would have been a nuisance to wear a dress out to sea and finding other accommodations would have surly made me late. I did not want to be late for an opportunity to be out at sea. The water constantly called to me. It spoke to me always, but at night its sweet lament made my yearning a physical hurt.

What I yearned for I could not say for it scared me as much as it exhilarated me. Sometimes I would look into the dark, murky depths of the sea and wish it would take me. I wanted to feel the saltwater in my nostrils and down my throat as I breathed it like air. I wanted to be crushed by the waves until I was a part of the tide. I wanted the currents to pull me apart till I was as fluid and vast as the ocean. It called to me and I wished I could answer it, but I was a girl that had made promises.

Sometimes I fantasized I was a sea creature and that longing only became a reality at night when I dreamed. The closest I would ever get would be the nights my father took me to navigate the rocky shoals. The sea didn’t just ask me to join it. It told me about itself like a friend sharing secrets. At first, I had thought this a normal trait. I used to join my father nightly on his fishing rig and he seemed to navigate the waters with ease missing the hidden rocks, sunken wrecks, and sandbars in the dark. It was as if it talked to him too.

One night while out to sea, we had been unsuccessful at bring up a catch. Papa cursed and banged around the ship; channeling his ire at the two village boys he employed to help us rig the sails on his Brixham trawler. Fishing was tenuous business if you couldn’t find fish and his usual spots had proved unyielding. If it continued, we would be out of a home before long. I stared into the dark depths. Stars’ reflections winked back at me. It told me no fish lingered under its cover. “Where then?” I wondered in my mind.

The sea seemed to hear me, and the currents shifted as if leading me. “Papa, it’s the wrong day to be fishing here. We should be closer to Shipwreck Cove.”

Papa paused and frowned seeming unhappy with the idea. He looked out to sea and then up at the sky with its crescent moon. He growled, “There will be fog around there tonight. It's too risky.”

“I can get us back out, Papa,” I said with confidence.

He looked unhappy with that idea, but he was a desperate man at that point. “Alright,” he acquiesced.

Within the hour, we were pulling up full nets. Before long, our boat was overflowing, and we were ready to leave. Sure enough, as my father had promised the fog was rolling in as we finished pulling up the anchor. At first my father was apprehensive about going back right away, but my empathic reassurance swayed him. Without questioning or thinking, he heeded my words. When I would direct them to turn starboard 2 degrees they did so. If I said an obstruction was coming on the port side, he would make the proper adjustments.

The crew held their breaths in anticipation at every turn. I could hear their doubts despite their quiet and I could feel their shock when we never collided into anything. The crew looked at me in wonderment when we made it home safely with a full catch and I reveled in the smiles we exchanged at our safe bountiful return.

My father had been in awe of me. He clapped me on the back and proudly said “That’s my girl” and then he assumed, “you have a keen memory of these waters. I am glad now I had been taking you out with me.”

I frowned at the assumption. Yes, I did remember all of his fishing routes. I was a terrible judge of distance and timing, though. If the sea had not talked to me, I would have been disoriented. I thought it unfair that I got all the credit and it dawned on me that he might not hear the ocean the way I did. “It wasn’t my memory, Papa. The sea, it speaks to me!” I proclaimed.

He whirled on me, “Uhm, what did you say?”

Not picking up on the shift in his mood, I continued to divulge my true talent. “I can hear.” I looked at my hands trying to think of the right words so he could understand. “The currents, they tell me where they are going, and they cry when they are obstructed. The deep waters are more reserved, but they say more. They let...” I was cut off by a smack to the face. I touched my cheek shocked by the violence. Papa had never hit me. I looked up at him tears threatening the corners of my eyes.

He loomed over me. His face was red, his lips were parted in a snarl and veins popped from his neck. He grabbed my shoulders and shook me, “You don’t listen to the sea.” He shook me hard, “you hear me?”

I was so stunned and reeling as to what I had done wrong that I could not respond. Tears were choking me. He shook me again, “DO YOU HEAR ME?!” he roared and this time I nodded yes. He pulled me into a hug and one shuttering sob escaped him. “Don’t leave me,” he lamented. “Don’t let the sea take you like it did your mother.”

Papa never talked of my mother. He wouldn’t even let anyone say her name. The mention of her sparked my curiosity. That curiosity took away some of the sting from his violent reaction. I realized he had not hit me in malice but in fear of losing me. He loved me and I did not want him to worried or feel sad. After all, we only had each other. “I am sorry Papa. I am sorry. I won't listen to it anymore. I won't let it take me. I will always be with you. I swear it. I swear it, Papa,” I promised without realizing how that promise would haunt me.

After that, Papa said it was time I learned to be a woman and he stopped taking me on his trawler. He took in a childless widow, who was not ready to marry yet and had no place to go, act as my governess and left me at home. The exception was foggy nights like tonight. On those nights, we pretended I was following my promise the same way I pretended to enjoy domestication.

Once dressed, I snuck past the governess’s door and hurried down to the dock. I was just in time but it did not stop my father from closing he pocket watch with a shark snap and bellowing “You’re late! Hurry in so we can make way!”

I scrambled up the gangplank and went to help ready the sails. My father caught me by the collar, “that work is not for you, man the helm.”

It was an honor to man the helm and most would be privileged to do it, but not me. I knew he did this because he wanted me to forget the workings of a ship. I manned it, though, successfully navigating us to the most populated waters.

The fishing spot was not one of my father’s usual. He raised an eyebrow at my boldness, but something had drawn me there and he hadn’t stopped me. The place I had chosen was a clearing of water guarded by an oval formation of crags with a backing of a cliff face. The jet-black crags with their grey tips jutted out from the black, foamed tipped waters essentially making them look like stationary waves which made them a perfect camouflage. To make them even more unnavigable where their fog coverings which made them invisible until you were upon them.

The small crew, including my Papa, were dubious of where I had told them to set anchor. Nonetheless, they had. Their suspicions fell away, though, when the first bountiful, overflowing net spilled over as it was dumped onto the deck. They looked at their captain with glee and they looked at me with rapture in their eyes.

It wasn’t long though before they were too employed in catches to pay attention to anything beyond the hall and I was left watching their efforts. The idleness made my eyes droop to the point I was almost falling asleep. The deck then began to overflow with fish and the men began to tire. That’s when a glint of the rocks caught my eye. I blinked not believing what I saw.

I squinted at the rocks through the lessening fog and thought I must be hallucinating. There was a naked woman perched on a rock off of the starboard side of the boat. I blinked again. She was still there. With everything slowing down, my father was now watching me closer. He saw my dumbfound look and followed my gaze to its source.

I felt the stir of his emotions without understanding his true feelings. He had seen the naked woman too. He shouted in passionate distain at its form, “You unfaithful bitch!”

The female form startled and leaped into the water. As it plunged into the water its form dissipated into a light grey that contrasted to the water and dark rocks. The creature popped back up in the form of a seal. I blinked wondering what I had witnessed. I wondered if I had imagined the female form, but why would Papa yell those words at a seal?

Papa pointed at the water, “Aim the nets there, lads!” he pointed at the seals back cresting a dome over the water's surface. Nets shot out towards the breaching animal but all of them missed.

The seal swam with accurate speed and maneuverable grace around the back of the boat. No longer was I following its form with just my eyes. I found myself abandoning the wheel to stare into the water. The creature popped up headfirst and stared into my eyes and it felt like I was staring back at myself. The eyes were the same dark, jet-black irises rimmed in blue. The effect made it look as if the pupil of a blue-eyed person had dilated fully, but in fact they hadn’t.

She spoke to me like the sea. She said nothing in words, yet her form spoke of forever and everything. I loved her and begged her in my own way to help me understand what this yearning I had was. She switched back into human form and giggled, “Jump into the water my child and I will show you what your spirit knows you are missing.”

I felt myself wanting to comply. I was like a man listening to a siren's song; so mesmerized was I by her presence. I had a leg over the railing when her face turned to one of dismay; halting me.

“Where is your skin my child?” she asked worried.

I was confused a moment. Skin? It was on my body. Then it dawned on me she was a selkie. This mythical creature I knew in my heart of hearts was my mother which made me part selkie. It was unbelievable, but it would explain Papa’s worries. It made since now and I wondered if he had taken my skin.

“Find your skin and I will take you back with me.” she beckoned me.

I reluctantly pealed myself away from the railing at those words. Even if Papa had stolen my skin, I had made a promise not to abandon him for the sea. I shook my head at her letting her know that was not a possibility. It hurt me in the deepest depths of my soul to turn away from my newly discovered mother. I ached to know more about her and hoped she could explain the longing the sea brought me, but to reach out for her would break my oath.

I didn’t have to see the disappointment in her eyes at my turning from her for the net's shadows were descending upon her. She plunged down to evade the nets. For a moment, I was wracked in horror at the thought of her capture, but she easily evaded and taunted us all on deck in some way with her sly motions. She paused to give me one last forlorn look as she disappeared into the crags.

With her exit, Papa’s attention snapped back to me. He whirled on me and looked as if he would strike me. I raised my arms over my face in cowardice, only to let them down in shame when he did not hit me.

“What did I tell you!” He barked.

“I told her I wouldn’t go with her,” I protested.

“You led us here. You knew exactly what you were doing,” He accused. He balled up his fists and hit his own thigh in an effort to control his rage.

“No Papa, I did what you requested. I led us to the greatest catch! I had no idea about her and you never told me!” I defended myself, hurt by his omissions. Would I have made those promises if I had know?

“I never told you because you belong to me not her! You are my child and that wife of mine,” he pointed in the direction she had swam, “betrayed our vows! She will not have all of my heart!” he roared, reveling too much of his feelings. He would never say ‘I love you’ to me and this was as close to that as I knew he would come.

I reiterated my vow to him, “Papa, I am staying with you. I will not succumb to the sea’s temptation!”

He mulled this over, but he couldn't overcome his fears. His face darkened and he turned his back on me, “You have come very close,” he accused disappointed in me. Before I could protest he cut off the conversation with a command, “Take us back home.”

The crew, sensing the mood, were so quiet that our vessel creaked along like a ghost ship in the fog. The ship’s mood sizzled with tension for the remainder of the trip. By the time we got back to the docks, the two crew boys were scurrying to find tasks that would shield them from their captain's impending explosion of anger. He wasn’t interested in them, though.

He was staring me down with an irate disappointed look. I could tell he was hurting, but it wasn’t my fault. I did as he asked, and I kept my word. I geared up to shout my protests, but he never yelled at me. Instead, he said resignedly, “Go home.”

My heart sunk, knowing that was my last time on a ship, but I did as I was told. I walked back up the deserted cobble stone streets to our timber stucco rowhouse nestled part way the largest hill in town. I went straight to my room and threw myself on the bed. I cried quietly, hating my nature, and wishing I was something I could not be. I was a girl who made promises and kept them even when they lost me to the land and left me longing for the sea.