Her Beloved

She didn’t know how long her eyes had been open or how long she had been awake.  Her vision was cloudy─ perhaps from the tears that were ever flowing from her eyes, flowing because of that fateful night.

Rising from her bed she felt the movement of the ocean.  She had always loved the way she felt when she was at sea. And her yacht, ‘Sea Spirit,’ she was beautiful.  Oh how she loved to be at sea.

The lady glided along the aisle of efficiently situated furnishings, each placed to make way for passengers moving about such tight quarters.  She frowned at the way the sea had set askew so much of it.  Thoughts of putting things right flashed into her mind, then faded, pushed out by some haunting anxiety.

Beyond the sleeping quarters lay the extravagant living and dining area of the fabulous vessel.  She creased her brow at the shadowy gloom inside the ship.  It was dark, but still she could see.  She glanced toward a porthole window.  It promised only a little more light.  The sea had left rich deposits upon the pane.  She would speak to her beloved about that.  Such a view might have been beheld from each port.  It was a shame she could not see out.  Only an occasional glimmer broke through.  Her angst returned.  She pushed all thoughts of the soiled glass from her mind.

Why was it so dark?  Had she lost track of time?  Was it night or day?  Perhaps a storm was brewing, blocking precious sunlight.  Was it that final moment of hope before the sea and sky become one, the calm before the onset of a mighty gale?  It made her think of that frightful night.  She remembered her beloved.  She wondered where he might be.  Could he be out on the deck?  If he were, he would be assessing the weather, considering all that he could to protect her, his wife, his love.

The lady absently reached for a switch on the bulkhead.  It would turn on the beautiful lights.  She remembered the day she selected each fixture.  That was a happy day, a happy time.  It was spent with her beloved.  But she couldn’t turn on the lights.

Then she remembered that night.  Its memory haunted her like a specter trapped in her mind.  Her mind oft seemed as a wreck of thing, good only for memories past, ghosts walking its halls seeking unrecoverable happiness.  She shuddered.

That night, that storm─ oh, how the memory tormented her.  Yet, one glimmer of joy always surfaced.  She was not alone then.  No, her husband was with her, her beloved.  He was there with her.  They were in love.  It had always been so.  He loved her, and he loved being upon the sea with her.  He had bought her this lovely yacht just so that they could be together in the place they loved the most.

The lady moved closer to the doorway.  She could see the dining table.  Its cloth was flowing gracefully as if by some ethereal breeze.  The door to the deck must be open.  She so loved the smell of the ocean air.  It had a special smell just before a storm.  She searched for it, but alas she could detect not even a hint.  Her brow creased once again.  She grew anxious trying to find the smell of the sea.  Its absence confused her.  Then, her mind cleared, and she pushed these thoughts away.

She let her fingers slide along the top of the fine silk tablecloth.  Puffs wafted from its surface.  She frowned.  Her table was dirty.  This would never do.  She told herself that she must remember to clean up before her husband discovered such poor housekeeping.  That would never do.

The lady wondered where her husband might be.  She worried that he was out upon the deck, at the mercy of the impending storm.  She wasn’t worried for him.  No, she loved him; it was true, but she worried more for herself.  She always felt safe when he was with her.  She knew he would never leave her alone, not if she was in danger.  He would always protect her.  She smiled again.  It faded quickly as the memory of that night returned.  She remembered the storm, how it threw the yacht upon the waves until it seemed it would break in two.  She remembered her husband out upon the deck, working to protect her.  Worry overflowed her mind, overwhelmed her countenance.  She had to find him.

With hurried pace she crossed the dining area.  Swirling clouds trailed behind every feather light step.  She felt as if each was harder than the last, like something was pushing against her.  Still, she struggled to see through murky vision.  Her head pivoted wildly upon her slender neck.  Her yacht, why was it covered in filth?  She turned to address it, then caught sight of the shimmering sun through the open bulkhead leading to the deck.  She was fearful, confused.  Everything was wrong.  Where was her beloved?

She fled out onto the deck and looked skyward.  That night…  Where had the storm gone?  No─  It wasn’t that night, not anymore.  The sun shimmered in her hazy vision.  Something crossed between her and it.  She could not tell what it was.  A shadow, then it was gone.

She swept to the railing, looking over the side.  Where was he?  Where was her beloved?  The notion that something might be wrong, that something might have happened intruded for only a moment.  Then she forced it away.  She forced all such thoughts away.

Slowly she searched, holding tight to the deck rail.  She loved the ocean but feared it more.  Perhaps this was why it exhilarated her so.  Something moved behind her, a shadow.  She turned and moved from the rail.  She reached, calling to the shadow.  “My beloved?  My beloved, is it you?”

Nothing.  The shimmering sun grew faint.  The lady returned inside the dining quarters.  She tried.  Oh, how she tried, but she could not get a single lamp to light.  What was wrong with her lovely yacht?  Where was her beloved?

She glided toward her bed chamber once more, thoughts of her beloved racing through her tormented mind.  She drew near her bed.  She allowed herself a lucid moment, a moment when truth pushed aside hope.  In that moment she knew that she would not find her beloved this night.  Anguish exploded across her face as she wondered how she ever could find him.  The time was not yet right, she knew.  But what of the place?

Denial, hope, and fear overwhelmed her.  Her beloved…  She had to find him.  But now she must rest.  She lay atop her silken bedspread and closed her bleary eyes, to dream of her beloved.  When next she woke, she would wander the deck of the ‘Sea Spirit’ in hopes of finding him.  She would fear the storm, fear the sea, and that dreadful night searching― searching for her beloved aboard the sunken wreck of the Sea Spirit, forever.