Ethan's Song

Copyright 2005 by Jan Carol. All rights reserved. No part or portion of this book may be copied without the written permission of the author.

CARRYING HER guitar case and purse onto the large yacht, her eyes were wide as she took in the richness of her surroundings. She had seen several such vessels from the beach, tied up at the piers, but this was the first time she’d gotten this close to one.

She followed the man carrying her large suitcase and overnight bag, walking down two flights of stairs. Her cabin was among the rooms set aside for the hired staff. Jenà stopped just outside the door the man had opened for her, looking in.

The room was small. On her left were bunks attached to the wall; opposite them, a dressing table with mirror; on either side were drawers, built in. A closet was at the head of the bed, a small door opened to the bath at the far end of the room.

"The woman you will be sharing this room with is not here yet. The head cook will appreciate your being early." The man spoke slowly, precisely. "When you have your things put away, you may report to the galley. You will find uniforms in the pantry."

Strange place for uniforms, she thought. She thanked the man for showing her to her cabin. There was no answer, except the snap as he quietly closed the door between them.

Westley had told her to pack lightly, as she’d be seeing very little sunlight and no fun on the three-week trip. Hoping he was wrong, she had brought something for any occasion that might arise. Hanging her dresses and blouses in the small closet, she chose the drawers on the left of the mirror and finished unpacking. It was a tight squeeze, but she stowed the two pieces of luggage in the bottom of the closet, putting her two extra pair of shoes on top of the larger case. Her guitar in its case would have to remain out, leaning in a corner.

Before she went back up the stairs, she ran a brush through her dark brown hair, pulling it back with a scarf. It hung past her waist, not the length to be in the kitchen with, she mused. She had been seriously thinking of cutting it, as it had been blamed for the headaches she had quite often.

"What beautiful hair!" The exclamation came from the doorway, where stood a woman of about thirty years old. Her hair was nearly as dark as Jenà’s, though it was above her shoulders, which looked a lot easier to care for. "What I wouldn’t give for hair that long and perfect."

"Jenà Wisdom." She walked to the woman, a hand outstretched. "You must be my roommate."
"Jenni Powers. I was told I would find you here." They briefly shook hands. "Your first trip?" Something about her said she was green.
"Yeah, and am I nervous as a calf facing the branding iron," Jenà told her. "I’ve never done anything like this before. A friend of mine helped me find this job. He’s supposed to be here, somewhere."
"Just hang in there, Jenà. You’ll run onto him sometime today. I wouldn’t mind showing you around. I’ve been at it nearly ten years, but rarely with the same people." She set her overnight bag, the only thing she carried, on the bottom bunk. "I hope you aren’t afraid of heights, too."
"I don’t mind the top." Jenà put her brush in the top drawer. "I should go up and find where I’m supposed to report in."
"Hey, wait for me. I won’t be but a few minutes. I’ll go with you. It’s my fifth time aboard this baby, so I know where everything is." Jenni quickly got busy emptying the few things she had brought, mostly her under garments.
Jenà stood by the door watching. "Wes told me to pack light, but I wasn’t sure. I was afraid I’d get stuck without something in the middle of the ocean, if you know what I mean." She felt she had to say something about the near full closet.
"I remember how it was. I believe it was my tenth trip before I actually left it all home." She set her overnight case on top of the one already in the closet. "A guitar! Do you play?" She watched Jená’s smiling nod. "Good. That will break the monotony of the trip. I suppose that means you sing, too?"
"Yes." She answered enthusiastically. "I enjoy singing. I only took this job because I had several weeks of nothing to do."
"Oh." Jenni didn’t understand what she meant, but wasn’t nosey enough to ask. "I guess we’d better get up there. I’m sure it’s the same chef, and if it is, we’ll have work from time on to time off. He don’t allow for slouching."
As they walked up the two flights of stairs, they continued their conversation. "It’ll make time go faster."
"I guess you’re right." Jenni wasn’t too enthused, her tone sounded the emotion. "Personally I’d trade places, you know, let these old stuffed shirts wait on me. But," she spoke on a sigh, "I’d probably get tired of that after the first week."
Jenà stopped, looking at her roommate. "Old? But Wes said that Mr. Ayers was young, and that I should watch out for him because he thinks he’s God’s gift to women. A real playboy."
Jenni laughed. "So true. I was speaking in general, though. Most the people I’ve worked for are older. Mr. Ethan Ayers is thirty, thirty-one. And he puts the make on every woman,
except
hired help." They were walking into the dining area as Jenni continued talking. "So, you don’t have to worry, Jenà. Though you’re pretty enough to need warning, and young enough." She moved closer to the other’s ear and whispered, "He likes them young, you see."
"That’s good to know. I mean about being
safe
because I’m working for him." Jenà wasn’t conceited, or worried about the ship’s owner, but at the same time, she didn’t want to have to worry about a playboy. She stopped beside the woman, waiting to see what came next.
"Well, it’s about time I got some help." A large man dressed in white came from around the hanging pots and pans in the middle of the room. "I was beginning to wonder if I was going to have to do it all myself." He set the vegetables he carried on the counter beside him, wiping his hands on his once-spotless apron. "Hello again, Jenni. And who is this yung’un?"
"Jenà Wisdom." She offered her hand to him. "I was told to report here for duty."
His laughter filled the room, echoing out in the dining area. "I’m going to like you, Jená." He hugged her, ignoring the well manicured hand she had offered. "Edward Fincher, better known as Flapjack. Let me show you where to find the uniforms and schedule."
"I can do that much for her, Flap. I have to do for myself as well." Jenni walked ahead of him, pulling Jenà with her. "You just make sure His Majesty’s cuisine doesn’t boil over or burn."
"Schedule?" Jenà questioned when they were alone in the pantry. "I thought we worked when it was mealtime." Her smile showed embarrassment at her ignorance.
"No. There’s too much to do. It’s a constant run for these people." Jenni was going through the black dresses that were hanging at the far end of the well-stocked pantry. "You’ve got those that like their meals at seven, twelve and five, nothing in between. Then there are others that like snacks between meals. And there seems to be a constant thirst needing to be quenched, either with liquor, juice or coffee. And when you aren’t doing for their stomachs..."
"You made it!" Westley had come into the room where they were, interrupting Jenni’s continuous chatter. He was beside Jenà in a few quick steps, holding her above the floor, twirling her around.
"Wes! You’re making me dizzy. Put me down." When she was safely on her feet again, she changed her tone. "Do you know Jenni from before?" She asked, as they both had been doing this type of work for years.
"Sure." He quickly said. "We’ve been on the same ship lots. How ya been doin’ kid?" He still held Jenà, nodding at the other woman, then turned back to the one in his arms. "You’re still looking as great as the last time." Lowering his head, he claimed a quick kiss before looking through the clothes for himself.
Jenni handed several uniform dresses to Jenà before speaking. "No, I don’t think this trip is going to be so boring after all." With three dresses hung over her arm, she disappeared, leaving the couple alone in the room.
"I don’t understand." Jenà was puzzled by the woman’s quick change in moods. "One minute she’s talking up a storm, the next she’s storming out with hardly a word!" Still standing in the spot he’d set her in, she looked toward the door as if Jenni might reappear.
Westley clicked his tongue several times. "Well, you see... Jenni and I were a thing a couple of years back. I guess she still holds a grudge." Having gotten the things he needed, he walked up behind her. "She’s past. You’re present, mon cher."
His lips on her neck were irritating, rather than the sensation he was trying to bring her, and Jená was about to struggle away from him when a shadow came over the room.
The large man who ran the kitchen stood in the doorway, clearing his throat quite loudly. "Westley, you remember the rules about the help fraternizing? We still don’t put up with it. You will report to the kitchen in ten minutes. I’ve a lot of potatoes to be peeled." He didn’t wait for an answer, but turned and went back to his kitchen.
He had moved away from her at the first sound made by the chef. "Well..." He didn’t seem to know what to say.
"Jenni was going to show me the schedule, but she must have forgotten when you came in." Jenà had turned to face him, asking for his help now.
Her hand in his, she was taken to a corner desk. "The schedule is here." He put his finger on the paper pinned to the wall at eye level. "It’s made up for the entire cruise, so you don’t get confused. We’re both on the evening shift." His finger continued running down the list, pausing beside Jenni’s name for a few seconds. She was on morning shift.
His arm came around her as he turned her, about to kiss her again. With the desk behind her, the only thing she knew to do was move her head away to discourage him.
"I don’t know what the consequences are, Wes, but we’ve been warned once already. Please. Though I don’t need this job, I wouldn’t want anything going against my good record. I may find I like this kind of work and quit the other."
"Quit singing?" Westley sounded shocked. "Jenà, you couldn’t do that." He dropped his arms from her, stepping back, checking for seriousness. "One day you’ll be discovered."
"One day." Taking the clothes, Jenà almost ran from the pantry, not stopping until she reached her room. Jenni was gone, so she closed the door and began stripping, hanging up the clothes she had worn for the drive to Savannah. The black dress was simple, plain was more the word. Its white collar and sleeve bands added something to the plainness. It wouldn’t have been what she would have chosen, had she been the one in charge. But she wasn’t, so she wouldn’t complain. At least the young millionaire didn’t have his help dressing in something frilly that didn’t cover everything! A giggle came from her as she opened the door to return to the kitchen.
The full staff was on duty that first afternoon, getting the guests comfortable, seeing to their needs. Whims, was what Jenà called them. Next to her own needs, those of the guests were overwhelming.
Mr. Ethan Ayers seemed to be everywhere at once. Everywhere she was, he was, though she knew it had to be coincidental. He had to make sure his guests were being treated well.
She was assigned the diningroom late in the evening. Her job was to get ready for the meal that would be served in an hour. In the walk-in cooler, she was told, she would find the fresh flower centerpieces for each table. The lace tablecloths she was given were beautiful, so delicate she was afraid she might tear them. She learned how to fold the cloth napkins just so, a bit of fun for her. The silverware, and that was just what it was, was to be placed just so. There was so much of it for each person, she giggled as she worked. When Flapjack came in to warn her of the time, she had just stepped back to admire her work.
"Very nice." He said in a tone that puffed her pride. "Very nice, indeed." The large cook turned to her after surveying the tables, taking her hands. "I believe we found the addition to our staff we’ve been looking for."
"Thanks, Flapjack. I enjoyed it. I didn’t realize a job could be so much fun." She could hear the diners coming into the room. "What do I do now?" she whispered to the man who had taken her arm escorting her out of the room.
He walked her into the kitchen before answering. "You’re by far the prettiest woman we have on staff. I want you in the dining room to fill and refill the drinks. Do you think you could handle that job as well as you did the tables?"
She blushed at his compliment. "I... I... guess so." She stuttered, blushing all the more, looking down at the fresh apron he wore.
"Good. Everything will be just fine, then." He explained the proper etiquette to be used, stressing the importance of being seen and not heard. She could nod if she needed to answer, but she was to keep her mouth shut, preferably with a smile.
By the end of the meal, the smile was nearly frozen there. It was a real test not to answer questions, but she made the hour without a peep. A quick glance toward the kitchen door several times, let her know Flapjack was keeping an eye on her. He winked each time their eyes met, telling her he was pleased with how she was doing her assignment. It was the way Mr. Ayers had been looking at her, the two times she had locked eyes with him, that bothered her most.
Helping clean up, it was nearly midnight before she and Jenni crawled into their bunks. Jenà’s loud sigh was echoed below her. The noise of the silence was almost too much for her ears.
"How was the day for you?" She asked Jenni. The silence continued so long, she wondered if her question would go unanswered.
The first words came on a heavy sigh. "Not bad. As normal as ever. How about you?" Jenni’s voice told the woman above her how tired she was.
"It was great. You sound exhausted. What time do you have to get up?" Her eyes closed, as she felt a slight movement that must have been the ship moving with the current. So far, she hadn’t really detected much of that, which must have been because of how busy she had been kept.
"Four." The woman whispered back. "I hope it won’t bother you. I know you work late tomorrow night. They really should have put the same shifts together in the same rooms."
"Yeah. It probably would have worked out better that way. Well, goodnight, Jenni." Jenà rolled over, letting the excitement of the day die down. She hoped she wouldn’t find it hard to go to sleep so early, as she was used to singing until twelve or so, then going out for a meal and drinks with friends until two or three in the morning. Being on the late shift was going to be just right for her.
"Good night." Jenni replied in a whispered sigh, turning over in the small bed.