Mirage

The pain of the final contraction is excruciating. My knees are locked. My lower back feels as though my spine is going to rip out. I’m puffing like a surfaced whale, squeezing his hand. His face is calm which only angers me. He’s reassuring but I can’t hear him. The storm waves thrashing the boat are soundless. The pirates are ramming down the door. Only the thumping of my heart I discern. Loud and slow. Then the frail cry of my baby boy. I’m half sobbing, half laughing. My nose is running. The man kisses me and the three of us huddle warmly wrapped in the innocence of new life.

The door splinters. He pulls away from us, cutlass drawn. I scream as he slashes down a red-headed man. Another with a dagger in his mouth is killed. Then a pistol is fired and I watch his shirt begin to soak up the blood from a hole in his chest. He slumps to the cabin floor and I crawl to him with one arm holding our child. One of the raiders pulls me away. I kick and shriek. They give my son to the Captain who towers above me as I’m forced to my knees. The Captain smirks, opens his mouth, and meows.

I jolt upright the thin sheet rippling off my legs. Emily is still asleep. I put my face in my hands. My cheeks are wet but not from sweat. Was I crying? There was loud scratching coming from the door of our hostel room. Groggy, I get up and open it. A breeze welcomes my face. A Costa Rican breeze that is humid but still refreshing after a nightmare. Mochi, the hostel’s cat, wraps around my leg. She nuzzles her head into my calf and I pick her up sitting on the concrete porch. That dream was intense. I gave birth to a child! My maybe baby daddy was killed in front of me. It was so vivid. It shouldn’t have felt so real, I mean pirates? After Mochi wandered off I went back inside. I washed my face and crawled back into my bed. I looked at my phone, it was 3:00 a.m.

At breakfast, I told Emily about my adventure on the pirate ship. She laughed her ass off.

“Maybe tonight you’ll dream about falling in love with a crime lord you were trying to escape!” she teased.

…

One of the raiders pulls me away. I kick and shriek. They give my son to the Captain who towers above me as I’m forced to my knees. His hat was embellished with yellow and blue parrot feathers. His black coat poured to his ankles. He leered but then his expression softened slightly as he stared at the bundle in his arm.

“I’ve always wanted a son.”

“He’s not yours!” I retorted.

His crew laughed and mocked me. The Captain shouted for them to quiet.

“You may have a future with your son. I do not wish to part you from him. All I require is that you tell him I am his father.”

I spat on his black boots.

“I would never…”

“Oh you will or you walk the plank pet. It would be a shame for him never to know a mother's love,” he argued.

I gaze at my beautiful baby, swaddled in a pillowcase. Brown newborn hair already crowning his tiny head. My eyes well up. I nod at the Captain.

“Very good then! Welcome aboard Leda’s Revenge.”

Raising a toddler among pirates was difficult, though I adjusted to my new life. Keeping a young boy away from swords, cannon balls, and rum when we raided ships every week was impossible. Even more so when his “father” is the Captain. He would beat me when I disagreed and though I never stopped fighting to raise my son. I learned to hold my tongue. Save certain battles for another day. Soon my son was old enough to understand what he saw and heard. It became harder to hide a bruise. He began to loathe the Captain. He began to brawl more with the crew. Slowly he learned to fight and gain their favor. The night of his 18th birthday I stood on the bow of Leda’s Revenges. The sea spray and breeze cooled my sun-weathered skin. In the wind, I heard the faint whisper of my name, Annalise. Someone gently shook my shoulders.

“Annalise!”

I stirred and opened my eyes. Emily was standing above me, her blonde hair wet from a shower.

“What?”

“Checkout is at 10. You should probably shower now before breakfast. Then we can pack up and hit the road.”

I stood in the hostel kitchen, fingers wrapped around a sloth mug brimming with rooibos tea. Emily was going over her detailed itinerary for the day ahead. My mind was on my son. I was so worried for him, which was ridiculous because I didn’t live in 1715 the last time I checked.

The following nights were dreamless. Then I stood on the bow of Leda’s Revenges. The sea spray and breeze cooled my sun-weathered skin. The moon cast her pallid shadow on the surface of the still night waters. In the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow flicker in the lantern light. I crouched and slowly made my way down from the bow. It waned as I drew close. A man was moving quickly like a tomcat to the captain's quarters. A silver dagger in his hand glinted sharply against the indigo night. I stopped dead. Someone was trying to kill the captain. The selfish brute who beats me. Who shot down the father of my baby moments after his son’s birth. The man who manipulates my son, and terrorizes the waves of our life. To my understanding, his crew loved him. What would happen when they found out? My hatred vanquished the fears of after. I began to turn away only to glimpse a second shimmering thing that caused my heart to skip a beat. Dangling from the man's left ear was a shark tooth earring. He was my son. That damn earring was a prized possession from the first time he’d made a trade at the merchant port. I stifled a cry and raced from my hiding spot to stop him before he got himself killed, but he disappeared behind the wooden doors that depicted a flying swan. I followed. My son stood over the sleeping captain. Pure loathing and malice engraved his face.

“Wake up and look at me!” he hissed.

The Captain's bright green eyes filled with confusion as he woke to my son towering above him, fearless and determined. I watched rooted as my boy drove the dagger deep into his chest. The Captain's white nightshirt bloomed in crimson where he was stabbed three times. My son stood stoic and proud. I approached him slowly and relinquished his grip on the handle. Turning his face to me, he kissed my forehead. He pulled me into a strong embrace resembling a momentary mirage of his father. I closed my eyes and allowed the repose of our freedom to cleanse me.

“Who was he?”

Tears escaped my lashes.

“A good man.”