Phantom Scars (2 page)

Chapter 3 – Phantom’s Scars

There was a storm coming that would set back our docking time for a few days, and the captain and I were taking shifts to make sure we sailed around it safely. Once he told me of the order, he sent me back to my quarters to try and rest, so I would be of a clear mind when I took over that night. When I opened the door, I heard a small gasp, and my eyes found little Emma scrambling to cover herself in the corner.

I quickly turned my back, giving her a chance to dress. “Are you decent?” I asked after a moment.

There was a softly whispered, “Yes.”

I looked over my shoulder to see that she was dressed and moving to the far side of the room.

“Sorry, Ms. Emma, I was sent to my quarters by the captain. A storm has come up, and I’ll be wanted on the bridge all evening while we make our way around it.”

She just nodded, but didn’t move. I noticed her large brown shirt seemed much more fitted. “You fixed your shirt,” I said smiling.

She blushed lightly and then nodded yes. She turned around and showed me how she had attached a button to one side and made a loop on the other side and then hooked them together, pulling the material taut against her body.

“Well, you did good,” I complimented.

She just shrugged lightly, and I saw how she had done something similar to her pants.

“Well, I hope you don’t mind company for the next couple of days,” I said and lay back. 

She shook her head no, and then she surprised me, when she pulled out a book from who knew where and sat down on my duffle quietly. I looked over at her a few times, wanting to know what she was reading, but she never looked up.

I finally couldn’t stand the silence anymore and got up and walked over to her. She looked up at me nervously. “What are you reading?” I asked grabbing the book edge, tilting it so I could see.

She bit her lip, nervously looking at me, unsure of what I was doing. I saw her wide fearful eyes and knew I was too close. “Sorry,” I said and moved back across the room. “I was just curious.”

She let out a sigh and nodded okay, setting her book down. She pointed to the bed, and I moved to it, not fighting her. She surprised me by kneeling down next to me. She pressed her finger to her lips to shush me. I guess she knew I wanted to ask more questions.

She gently stroked my hair, causing me to relax and close my eyes. I heard a soft humming of a song I didn’t recognize, but it seemed familiar, and before I knew it, I was asleep.

When I woke up later that day, she once again had her shirt off, but she had not noticed me. She was leaned over my little sink, washing her hair.  The soft floral fragrance I had been smelling off and on since our last port assaulted my nose. It was heavenly. I breathed in deeply with my eyes closed and then let my shamed eyes wander across her bare back. I noticed a long angry scar that marred her skin from her right shoulder to her left hip.  There seemed to be a few other marks, but I could not see them clearly. Before I realized what I was doing, I was standing behind her, examining her scarred back. I reached out, touching the bright red angry gash, and she just about leaped out of her skin.

She spun around, whipping me with her wet hair, soaking my white shirt through.  She slammed herself back against the wall, trying to put distance between us, as she wrapped her arms around herself, covering her breasts. I quickly looked for her shirt, and noticing it on the floor by the sink, I picked it up. She was whimpering and shivering, as I stepped closer to her and held the shirt out for her to take.

After a few moments, she finally reached out, taking the shirt, and I saw on her wrists that there were bondage scars. My brow furrowed, and I looked into her eyes, worried and wanting answers, but I knew she wasn’t in any state of mind to give them. I watched her pull her shirt on, tugging the sleeves down to cover her scarred wrists.  She sat in a quivering ball in the corner. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. I didn’t mean to startle you, I just saw your back was hurt and was worried. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I backed up and turned the water off to my little sink. “I should get us some food, please wait here. I’d like to talk to you. I swear I didn’t mean to scare you,” I tried again to explain, but her eyes stayed wide and panicked.

I decided to just slip out the door and give her time to settle down. I checked in with the captain and grabbed my lunch. I headed back to my cabin and saw that she was still sitting in the corner shaking.

“Emma?” I called to her, but I felt like she couldn’t see me.

I decided to just say screw it. I walked over to her and picked her up, cradling her thin form in my arms. She whimpered a little louder, but when I sat down on my bed, I cradled her head into my neck and rocked her. I started humming the song she had hummed to me. It surprised me that I could remember the tune so clearly, and then I noticed she finally started to relax a little.

“Hey, little one, you feeling better?” I asked looking down at her watering eyes.

She sniffed, nodded yes, and then she moved off my lap. I got up and pulled the chair out for her. “Are you feeling up to eating?” I asked, and her stomach growled. I laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.” I patted the seat so she could sit down, and I scooted back on the bed and watched her eat as I usually did.

“Do you have any family?” I asked.

She shook her head no, looking down at her plate.

“So, what are your plans for when you get back to the states?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I figured I’d get a job as a maid, or waitress,” she spoke softly in between bites.

I nodded. “Emma, do you have any papers or documentation?”

She looked down at her pocket for a minute and then to me.  She wiped her hands on the napkin and then reached into her pocket. She pulled out a license with her picture. Her face looked a little fuller and younger, and I realized it was because it was an underage license. She must have been just sixteen in it. Of course, that two years must have seemed like a lifetime ago to her.

“So, it says here you’re Emmaline Ann Declan and that your home is in Key West, Florida.”

She closed her eyes, and a few tears dripped down her cheeks.

“Hey, do you want me to get you back there?” I asked, looking at the address again, and she jumped up and shook her head no. I worried that whoever was in Key West was the one who had hurt her.

“It’s okay, it’s fine. I didn’t know if you had someone.”

She shook her head no and pulled her feet up on the chair, rocking herself a little. “Emma, you know I won’t hurt you, right?” I asked.

She nodded yes, and I smiled in relief.

“Look, when we get to port, I’ll take you to my place and help you get set up. I don’t want you homeless or on the street, and well, you’ve already proved to me how useful you are as a maid. If you’ll clean up after me, I’ll keep a roof over your head and let you look for a job and work during the day if you want. Deal?”

She looked a little unsure, but I knew she couldn’t refuse, and I wasn’t about to let her out of my sight. She would not be living homeless on the street if I could help it.

Chapter 4 – We Do

It was the last day on the ship, and we were getting ready to pull into port. I was picking up the few personal items I had in my quarters and stuffing them into my duffle bag.

I looked up to see Emma sitting quietly, watching me pack.

"So, have you figured out how to get off the ship?" I asked.

"I'll just wait until it's empty and then sneak off at night."

That might have worked at any other port, but it wouldn't at this one. I sat down and let out a defeated sigh.

"Emma, half the crew lives right on the port, including me. They'll see if anyone is going on or off the ship, and you can't get down in the water because of the alligators."

"What?" she practically shrieked.

"We're going to port in Georgetown, South Carolina, Emma. I don't know how to get you off the ship without you getting caught."

I got up and was pacing nervously. I had to find a way to fix this and fast. What I hadn't counted on was being so distracted that I was late coming back from lunch. The captain decided to find me himself and popped his head in the door to find me with Emma.

"Shit, boy, customs will be here in an hour.  What the hell are you doing with a girl in your quarters, and how the hell did you get her on the ship?"

I rubbed my face, not sure what to say. I couldn't let them take her. I couldn't let him throw her off the ship. "She's my girlfriend," I lied. "I met her on the internet, and she was in Germany, so I picked her up there."

"Damn it, boy, what am I going to do with a German chick with no passport? They'll toss her in a cell quicker than you can blink."

“She’s American,” I defended.

“Does she have legal documentation, a passport or visa?”

“She has a license,” I offered weakly.

“She only has a license, no secondary form of I.D., like a Social Security card or something?” he asked worried.

I glanced at her, and she shook her head no. The captain and I both frowned. He was pulling at his beard, trying to think of something, and I was mangling my hair in frustration.

“She's an American citizen. She just doesn't have papers at the moment. Can't we say we picked her up from someone further south or something? She has a driver's license," I begged, exasperated.

The captain shook his head. "Log books will show we didn't stop anywhere. Look, maybe if she says she had a friend meet us seaside, and I marry you right now, so she has a second set of legal documents, they won't question her."

I looked over at Emma and saw her staring at the floor, shivering in the corner. I walked over and wrapped my arms around her and whispered in her ear, “I won't let them take you.  Will you marry me, Emma, so I can help you?” I asked, and she nodded yes.  I gave her a reassuring smile and turned back to the captain.

“We’ll do it. We’ll get married,” I said, knowing it was the only sure way to grant her safe passage.

Captain left and came back with a standard maritime marriage license. He kept a book of them in his desk, but he had yet to ever use one. He opened the book, tearing off the top one and asked for our I.D., so he could write down the information on them. He frowned and looked between the two of us, when he saw Emmaline's I.D. I was sure he was thinking she was just a baby. He scratched his scruff and looked at us worriedly, but he filled out the paper. "Her Florida address will make her story about meeting us out here on the water more believable. You're lucky she isn't from Montana or some other land-locked state," he said and then handed me the pen to sign the paper. I signed without hesitation, too worried they would take her.

The captain took the pen and reached it out to Emma. She flinched back a little. I took the pen from him and set it on the table, knowing she would feel more comfortable picking it up from there.

"You sure about this, Ma'am?" the captain asked. "Once you sign this, it's done, you're married. I know we didn't do pretty words, but that's really just for show. This paper here is the meat of it. Once you sign it, you're stuck with him," he said motioning to me.

Emma moved forward, cautiously watching the captain, and quickly signed her name without a word.

The captain let out a rough breath. "Okay, kids, you're married," he said and tore off the little bottom part. "I have to mail this in to the registry, but you're still good to go. So, Clemens, you may kiss your bride."

At that, Emma's eyes widened in surprise, and the captain let out a laugh. I leaned over and pecked her cheek. She nearly jumped out of her skin, but the captain found it humorous and left us alone.

I sat down on my bed and looked at my bride. My momma was going to kill me. "Well, you're safe now. I won't let anyone lay a hand on you," I said, and she sat down on my dirty laundry bag. "The captain knows you're here, so there's no reason to hide in the grate anymore."

She looked up at me surprised, and I smirked. "I still have no idea how you fit in that thing." I walked over and looked into the grate. It was tiny. It couldn't have been comfortable to hide in there.

"Like you said, I'm small," she whispered.

"Okay, um, when we get back to my place, I'll see about getting you some clothes that fit."

"That's okay..." she started, but I cut her off.

"Emma, I won’t have my wife running around in those clothes. What kind a man do you take me for? People will think I'm a horrible husband. Do you really want them thinking that about me?"

She blushed a little and shook her head no.

"Good, then it's settled, when we get home, I'll help you find some clothes."

I had to warn her about my momma. She ran the little restaurant under my apartment. There was no getting around her. "Just so you know, you're going to meet my momma, and she's most likely going to be pissed at me for running off and getting married, but she won't be mad at you, so don't take any of her yelling to heart."

She looked at me worried, and I let out a sigh. "Little One, I swear, I'll never let anyone raise a hand or voice against you, alright? You'll be fine. Just don't be surprised if my momma wants to throw us a party, right after she reams me."

"Sorry," she whispered softly.

I chuckled. "Nah, she's been wanting me to settle down for a while now, so it's nothing to worry about."

The next morning, we were boarded by customs, and they took Emma's I.D. and our marriage certificate at face value, not questioning us further. We both let out a sigh of relief as they left the ship, and we came into port and docked. My home was just a short stroll up the boardwalk, so I threw my laundry bag on my back and my duffle on my shoulder, reaching my hand out to Emma. She pulled a small plastic grocery bag out of the grate and took my hand. As we stepped out of my room, we received several odd looks and crude comments, but the captain shut them up by saying she was my bride, so they'd better show respect.

Emma gripped my arm tighter, as we stepped off the ship onto the boardwalk and headed home. By the time we got to the back of the restaurant, she was hanging onto to me for dear life. I wrapped my arm around her and started up the steps to my place, when I heard my momma's voice call to me.

"Sugar, where are you going with that candy on your arm? You better get your booty down here and give me some love right now, boy."

I looked over my shoulder, "Let me put my stuff down first, Ma, and I'll be right there, I promise."

"You’d better, boy, I know where you sleep," she teased, and I felt Emma tense.

"Don't worry, Little One, I've got you, you're safe," I whispered, as I hurried into my apartment. My urge to protect Emma had grown stronger over our time together, and I was determined to keep her safe.

Even from my momma.