On the Edge of the World, Facing Up
“A day may sink or save a realm.” – Alfred, Lord Tennyson
“…then Captain Marmalade and his crew loaded the treasure into the hold of the Jammie Dodger; the sun was rising, and they had to get away before the spell was over, before the evil witch could find them.”
Sebastian Ward watched his sister Yvette, spin a spell of a story from the words in her mouth to the palms of her pale hands, to the child she was speaking it to, he saw the delight that blossomed in his chubby features. The boy scrunched his dark, chubby fingers around one yellow arm-sleeve of Yvette’s dress, like the circular, dark smudges dotting the centers of the yellow daises in Mistress Higgins’s solarium.
And, when the boy spoke, he spoke clumsy; the ends of his words rounded and soft like no one had bothered to teach him how to enunciate properly. “But, couldn’t the evil witch see them from her tower?”
Yvette grinned, widely, and the gesture split her freckled face, dimples appearing. Sebastian felt a surge of pleasure within him, smiles were a rare thing these days, if Yvette was smiling, then, maybe, just maybe, things would not be so terrible. Her eyes, the same shade as sea-kelp sparkled bright, in accordance with her smile.
“Remember the invisibility cloak the Queen gave them, well, Captain Marmalade had them all go round and round, until the whole ship was covered with it from stem to stern...”
Sebastian snuck another glace of his sister and the young boy, Theo, before shifting his gaze out to sea.
They had been on the sea for months now, at first the enforced isolation of the ship made Sebastian uneasy, but he had grown to feel comfortable in salty-sea skin, the rumbling of turbines in his ear, he dreamed they were the sounds of leviathans opening their mouths, strange creatures, something like the Saurian Harry spotted in Chapter 30. He had just finished Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne, it had been a bon voyage present from Father, and had taken Sebastian less than a week to read it through, he had since then handed it off to one of the other passengers, a elderly German gentlemen, who had since run out of his own literature. The man had given him a copy of Thérèse Raquin, so far he hadn’t touched it, not to mention his grasp of the French language was passable at best. He thought Yvette might like it, he planned to give it to her on their joined-birthday, and it was not like he was able to procure something off ship. He imagined that the other dwellers aboard the Orion did not have much to begin with, Sebastian grimaced at the names he heard it called.
Plague ship. Coffin ship. Ship of death. Sebastian knew all the epigrams, knew all the reassures by doctors, even his father, knew all the platitudes from Mr. Willow-Wig but nothing had dissuaded him from the truth.
The whispering had confirmed his first thoughts, it was some kind of disease they had contracted, and in attempt at quarantine Ships had been sent to house the afflicted, far out to sea.
At first, he had a hard time believing that the virus was legitimate; he was showing no signs of any affliction. He was not so blind to it now, face with the reality of it, fear crept through him, tightening his muscles as it went.
He had not known what snatched him violently from his sleep but the instant he was awake, he grabbed the oil lamp from his bedside table and lit it. Raising the ochre light he peered across the expanse of the large cabin he shared with his sister. Movement caught his eye from Yvette’s cot, and he scrambled to see what it was.
Shivering violently and slicked with sweat, Yvette was twisted in her blankets, limbs fighting to get free. Sebastian, fear making his fingers stiff, raised the lamp to her face, and rested the back of his head on her forehead. A fever! She was burning up. Sebastian placed the lamp down, and tried to calm her, his palms caressing her face, brushing back the damp, honey blonde strands of hair.
“Shush, shush. It’s alright, I’ve got you.”
When he consistent shushing did not calm her, and Sebastian feared she might harm herself, he dashed towards the head; he knew there was a full pitcher of water sitting near the basin. He grabbed the picture and scrambled back to her upending the water.
With as much care, Sebastian cradled her, until the last of the shivers, until she calmed. After settling her in his own coat, and stripping hers of the wet sheets, he was surprised at the tears that had glided down his cheeks.
They had been at sea for such a long while that Sebastian was sure dry land was a much a mystery to him as the ocean beneath. He had been staring at a point on the horizon for so long his joints and muscles were stiff from remaining stagnant for so long. He detached a salt-crusted hand from the railing and began turning it, twisting it, trying to get the mobility back into it, after grasping the metal bar for so long.
A sharp, chaotic stampede of sound interrupted Sebastian’s bubble-world of wind and waves.
“Sebastian! Sebastian!” He twisted towards the shrieking sound.
In a flurry of limbs and color Yvette rushed towards him, and for a few moments he froze, and bit down on his lip. Please, let it not be the sickness… But, when she reached him, she smiled, and grasped his hand, before tugging him back the way she came.
Yvette dragged him to the stern of the ship, Sebastian could already see passengers gathering there; they were whispering to one another.
When Yvette let him go, she pointed one long limb out over the stern rail. “Look, Sebastian, do you see?” Excitement from her voice bubble over, infusing him.
There rising out of the turquoise ocean was an island. It was a large island; its topography cast the colors of a peacock’s tail, except on the shoreline, which was a strip of cream-colored sand.
Sebastian did not even care his mouth was wide open. An island! Sebastian was white hot with exhilaration. As he realized all the possibilities his open mouth stretched into a wide grin identical to his sisters.
Maybe this quarantine wouldn’t be horribly awful after all.
Later that evening after Captain Griselda, her uniform neatly pressed, white hair slicked back under her cap, had explained that yes, she was sending out part of her crew to explore the island, and yes, if it was pronounced safe, yes, she would let the passengers, if they so wished, take leave on the island, Sebastian returned to his cabin with Yvette. They were drinking tea, quiet, grins plastered to their faces, letting their imaginations blossom.
“Do you believe in magic, Sebastian?” Yvette asked.
Sebastian bit his lip, before answering, “Mr. Willow-Wig believes it not to be so.”
Yvette shook her head, erratically. “I asked what you thought, not what that old fusspot Daddy sent us believes.”
Sebastian clucked. “Watch your mouth and manners, Yvette Ward, Mr. Willow-Wig is a scientist, a man of culture and learning, you’ll do good to remember that.”
Yvette huffed and pursed her lips, but didn’t speak. Privately, she thought Mr. Willow-Wig was a dullard and could use a sidecar of cyanide to go with his nightly dose of Ballatine’s, she thought it might liven him up some. Yvette was convinced that death would be the most exciting thing that ever happened to the man.
“Why do you ask such questions?”
Yvette grinned, “Our island is not on the map.”
“What?”
“The Captain and Mr. Willow-Wig were talking, I heard them, and she told him the island was not on any of her maps. Neither of them have any idea why, though.”
Sebastian did his best to remain passive, he had placed down his teacup for fear of it shattering, his hands bursting with energy. “Well, that’s not really out of the ordinary, maybe the map is not up to date.”
Yvette was serious, now, her lips forming a frown, her eyes, pleading. “Sebastian, magic. I tell you, it’s a magic island.”
Sebastian wanted to shake his head, Magic Island—that was just silly. But, the way Yvette grinned at the idea, and they way the excitement that emanated from her spun a web to encompass even himself, made him stop. If Mr. Willow-Wig was correct, they only had so much time, and if Yvette was happy, if this magic island made her happy, then who was he to take it away.
