Day 16

Don’t look at your legs. Don’t look at your legs. It’s fine. They all think it’s fine. We were trying a new dosage with the medicine today. I had a small measure this morning after my shift. Slept. Now I was up around noon again and would drink the remainder before another nap. The idea is I would be well rested but not clobbered during the day. And it sort of felt good.

The wind hadn’t picked up yet and Izzy finally figured out that she didn’t need to man the helm since we literally were at a standstill. She and the others insisted I come eat lunch with them if I was going to be up on deck. It was better up here than it was down below but not by much. Izzy made no bones about me bathing today and now they were talking ingredients of today’s lunch as we all baked in the sun.

It wasn’t till Catherine started talking about the water and staring at me pointedly that I realized I was supposed to talk and contribute to the conversation.

“I used to swim and bathe when the water was like this.” Don’t look at your legs. Just be happy you aren’t being sous vide-d in your own pants.

“That’s a wonderful idea. I’d been thinking a swim might be nice,” Izzy smiled her mental ward nurse smile again.

“Swim? Do ladies swim in California? What do you wear?” Catherine had sat by me as she nursed John Henry yesterday and this morning. We were both new at this semi-exposure lifestyle.

“Whatever we like.” Izzy giggled and skipped over to the bench that held the life jackets. “You don’t need to worry about clothes,” she said and I realized a second too late what she meant. She stripped in two seconds flat and dove overboard with a loud whoop.

“That’s exactly what the Baron’s daughter, Andrea, would do.” Bessie said, breathless. Catherine just nodded. What the hell were they talking about?

“Hopefully there won’t be a tea party after this…I’m not sure I would enjoy whatever ‘tea’ is…or that sort of party,” the young mother said as she watched Izzy resurface.

Seriously, what the hell were they talking about?

Catherine picked John Henry up out of the pack and play and looked over the rail. “She looks like she’s enjoying herself. Come on John Henry.” Catherine picked up the life jackets for her and John Henry and climbed down to the swimming platform. Her dress and his diaper were tossed back up on deck. John Henry started squealing with delight. Bessie was next. She shrugged off her thin blue dress and jumped over the rail. They all started laughing and shouting.

Well shit.

It sounded fun. It would be so great to jump in. Technically they’d all seen me naked before. I picked at the hem of my shirt. It was so bloody hot. Izzy was laughing and splashing and the sound reminded me of childhood. That did it. I pulled off my shirt first, then my pants, then my underclothes. I didn’t look at myself. I just did it. I threw a few safety lines off the stern should the wind start up unexpectedly and climbed up to the rail.

Funny that I’d been standing right here ready to perform this exact move only days ago. Maybe not funny ha-ha but funny that today I knew I’d be returning onboard and continuing the journey.

Izzy whooped again and a wicked idea occurred to me. I dove deep and swam under my ship. She didn’t see me coming. I reached out and got a firm grasp on both her ankles and pulled her under. She kicked and I held onto her for the count of three then let her go. I swam to the surface in time to see her thrashing and screaming.

I couldn’t help it. It was fucking hilarious to hear how horrendously she was freaking out.

“Here there be monsters! Or did you not see that on my maps?” I rolled over and continued laughing. It had been weeks since I’d even cracked a smile. I kept myself laughing for the sheer primal relief of it. Even Bessie and Catherine joined in.

“It’s a good thing we’re in the ocean, because I definitely just peed myself,” Izzy said, making me laugh all the harder.

I hadn’t pulled that prank on her since we were kids. Mom always hated when I did that. As if Izzy were in mortal peril in the 4ft deep end of the community pool where lifeguards abounded and there weren’t any sharks hiding in the chlorine filled pipes. Izzy always came up yelling bloody murder and I was put in community pool jail.

Dad (before the bastard left – may his carcass rot in hell) would defend me. She’s just playing, Viv. Izzy is fine. He was as bad a defense lawyer as he was a sailor. I’d be grounded for a week afterwards, longer if Izzy kept complaining about it or Mom had to take her to get her hair redone.

I floated somewhat apart from the others, still uncomfortable bearing myself in the open. I brought out my soap and shampoo and gave myself a thorough scrub down. It was a pleasant moment. I watched John Henry splash and play. I saw Bessie climb and launch herself off the rail of the ship over and over again. I saw Izzy draw herself across the water with long, lazy, practiced strokes. And I thought to myself, I’m glad I’m here right now.

The first hint of a breeze washed over me and I saw the sails flap. I called them all to get back aboard. We were back underway.