Living on the sea was an easy way of living for me. Often times I would wake up and go for a walk around the deck ending up at the edge of the boat, looking out at nothingness. Shortly Richard, the deck hand would appear and say, “What are you thinking about Captain?” And I would shake my head, and say “Nothing.” Richard would in turn shake his head, and continue to mop the floors. As I would continue to stare at the nothingness, I would remember a time when I felt nothing.
It began one morning when I was awoken by my father wrestling my mother with a pillow that covered her face. I followed the noise to their room and watch my mother’s legs flip and flounder like a fish out of water. Until they lay still like the calming of the sea.
I stood there in the doorway frozen, eyes popped out of my head. As my mind screamed, “Run!” my legs would not move. And my father turned to me his eyes were bloodshot red, his beard soaked with liquid, dripped all over my mother and the bed. He began to sob, quivering uncontrollably. I finally was able to get a hold of myself, come out of my stupor and began to back out of the room and into the hallway.
It was then my father turned his teary gaze on me once again, I no longer recognized him. He seemed much taller than I remembered and his eyes had no focus. He jumped off the bed and grabbed my collar in one fell swoop. I screamed, “Father!” He pinned me to the wall and at first just stared at me in anger. Tears were forced out of my eyes as I made an effort to breathe. I called to my father one more time, squeaking out, “Father Please!”
He let go of me and I fell to the floor. As I crawled backwards, trying to make my escape, he followed me. Hovering over me with every inch I moved…he was mad. I found myself in a corner, no escape trapped between two walls. We stared at each other, until finally he breathed, “She’s dead.” I knew she was dead, but hearing him say it made me scream. I couldn’t stop myself. I screamed so loud so uncontrollably that without a punch to the face, I may have never have stopped.
When I woke up it was dark outside and we were by the river. We, included my mother, father and me. I sat in a chair on a rock path in the river, and as I tried to move my arms I noticed I was tied down. I wanted to scream again, but my voice was held silent with soft tissue that hovered over my tongue and touched my throat. My father was moving briskly, he had an anchor in his hand and he dropped it in the river. A long chain connected to the anchor remained on the rocks and he tied the end of the chain around my mother’s ankle and rolled her lifeless body into the river. Her sweeping blond hair was the last I saw of my mother as she disappeared underneath the chopping waters.
My father stared into the waters for what seemed a lifetime as I sat helplessly awaiting his return. When he finally looked over at me his rage had left him, but I still did not recognize my father. He walked slowly to me, and stopped right in front of me. I struggled to lift my eyes to him, he said, “Your mother is in the river where she belongs, but she will never make it to the sea.” Those were the last words my father ever said to me, and he disappeared into the night.
I was found the next day by an old man I’ve seen frequently. He often walked by the river, to keep his youth he would say. His name was Laurel. I stayed with Laurel until they found my uncle Todd who came from out of state to pick me up. He was a governor and my father’s brother, he hated my father, and he hated me. He screamed at me, “Speak dammit, where is your mother?” In my head I said, in the river, but no words came out. I felt numb, I felt lifeless, I felt nothing…so no words came out.
His wife, Lisa was sweet and kind and she would come in my new room at night and give me warm milk and cookies and sing to me, and soon after I would fall asleep. She did not have any children of her own and she treated me as if I were hers.
Months later they found my father and he was put on trial and found guilty for killing my mother and another man out of state. His name was Jeremy Calding. Jeremy Calding’s body was also not found, though the evidence of his death was spilled in red blood all over his kitchen.
Lisa came to me the night of my father’s execution and she said, “My sweet child, won’t you speak? You have nothing to be afraid of, your father is gone. Your beautiful mother is at peace, and her spirit lives. Won’t you let her hear your voice? She is waiting for you to speak my child.” Lisa was full of strength and patience she had a stoic beauty that my eyes rested on with ease. She caressed me with her words and I attempted to speak, but nothing would come out.
She ruffled my hair and with a knowing smile she said, “Its ok, you will speak when you are ready. But you are safe now.” She got up and walked to the door, then hesitated. She turned to me, and whispered, “I’m not sure if I should tell you this, but your father he couldn’t chain down your mother, or poor Mr. Calding. Your father…he screamed as they began his execution. He screamed, “They were chained to the river!” Those were his last words…but it wasn’t true. Your mother’s spirit could not be tied down. She is free as you are. I believe your mother and this Jeremy Caldwell are making beautiful music together, an unchained melody.” She said this to me with her back turned. And as she opened the door and slipped out, she whispered, “Be free.”
Lisa never stopped loving me, even though I wouldn’t speak. My uncle was hardly around, he was often away on a business trips and when he was gone my Aunt Lisa would take me everywhere. She would talk to me as if I responded. Others looked at me in pity, or laughed and pointed or simply whispered but she would act like they didn’t exist. She often charted a boat for us to go sailing. At first I was nervous and uncomfortable. Lisa saw this and told me, “The sea is where your mother lives. I thought I would take you here and tell you some things about your mother.”
I was interested in hearing about my mother, I missed her. She first told me about her beauty and though I remembered her beauty vividly I listened enthusiastically. And then when she was done speaking, my mind would wander to my own memories of her beauty. She had blond curls that flipped and turned every which way. They would not be tamed. Her eyes were green and were sad even when she smiled. She would say to me, “Jeremy I’m so happy to have you.” as she would play with my own blond curls. I would respond, “Mom, I’m so happy to have you.” And she would smile sadly.
Her lips were thin, like her body when I hugged her I could wrap completely around her. Lisa would tell me she was like an angel, and would always wait a moment before adding…”A sea angel.”
On my 14th birthday, my uncle left town and we went out to sea. Lisa brought along a jewelry box. I wasn’t surprised to see the jewelry box, because every year Lisa pulled out the same box and gave me something out of it that belonged to my mother. The first year it was a single pearl, the next a topaz ring, following that it was a bracelet and the next three years jewelry of some kind. This year she unfolded a paper, and she told me she would read to me a letter that my mom wrote to Jeremy Caldwell.
She read the date, and I silently gasped when I realized the date matched the date of my mother’s death. Lisa paused, slightly before continuing, and then she began,
“Dear Jeremy,
Oh, my love…my darling. I’ve hungered for your touch a long lonely time. And time goes by so slowly, and time can do so much…are you still mine? I need your love, Godspeed your love to me. Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea…to the open arms of the sea. Lonely rivers sigh, wait for me…wait for me. I’ll be coming home…wait for me.
Love Alissa”
It was quiet on the sea as Lisa folded the letter that read my mother’s last thoughts before being murdered in her sleep. I could no longer see the water that we floated upon because the water in my eyes blurred my vision. Every memory I had from the night my life was changed forever, flew into my mind attacking me all at once. I began to scream, and swing at Lisa.
Lisa yelled, “Jeremy! Jeremy! Its ok… it’s ok!” But I continued to swing and Lisa took my punches and engulfed me, holding me tighter until I couldn’t swing anymore. She rocked me back and forth, as I repeated in a distant whisper, “He killed her, he killed her!”
My breathing slowed as I grew quiet, my thin frame felt weak as if I had taken a beating. When I finally pushed myself away from Lisa she was staring at me eyes glazed over with an unmoving smile on her lips. We stared at each other in bewilderment and when she gained her composure all she said was, “You spoke.” And we sailed back in silence.
Living on the sea was an easy way of living for me. Often times I would wake up and go for a walk around the deck ending up at the edge of the boat, looking out at nothingness. Shortly Richard, the deck hand would appear and say, “What are you thinking about Captain?” And I would shake my head, and say “Nothing.” But my thoughts were on the sea, my mother, my father, Lisa and a man called Jeremy, my namesake… and lonely rivers flowing to the sea.
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