Em walked across her quarters and stood in front of her window. Like all the other quarters on Bravo, the entire forward wall of her main living area was a window to the universe. Em soaked in the magnificent view and took a deep breath, her chest rising with the slow sure steadiness of the morning sun. Standing in front of the window was as close to standing on the bow of her father’s ship as she could get. The resounding smack of the bow embracing each wave remained ever present in her mind's ear. Only the fresh cool salty sea spray kissing her face and the warm southern breeze teasing her hair were lacking.One other thing was missing. Like the memory of her first kiss, Sam had joyfully followed her everywhere onboard her father's ship. The memory of him sticking his nose in the air over the bow with the wind blowing his hair back behind his ears always brought a smile to her face. All he needed was a scarf and goggles and she was sure he would have taken flight. He seemed to enjoy sailing the Nusian seas as much as she did. She missed his soft fur rubbing against her tanned leg, the wagging of his tongue and the joy and happiness he brought with his unconditional love. Sam was about the best pampus a girl could ever want. He would have liked the view on Bravo. If only she could see his tail wagging with enthusiasm one more time.
Em had placed her desk just a few feet in front of her massive view of the cosmos. Moving around the backside, she pulled out the silver aeron chair and settled into the supple leather seat, her elbows on the desk, her hands under her chin. The deafening silence in her quarters, of space travel in general, seemed to taunt her, a stark ever-present reminder she was not on the sea, not home. With an unconscious sigh a measure of tension escaped into the stillness. She opened the top drawer and pulled out a single sheet of paper and began to write.
Dear Father,
I’m sorry it has been a few days since my last correspondence. So much has happened in the last week I hardly know where to start. Rog has been terribly injured in a confrontation with our captives. We are fearful his wounds may be fatal. Trev has done everything he can, but we need outside help. Mairi has been abducted and Kyra and Von have left in the Pod to find her. Yul is beside herself. You know how she hates being helpless. Trev seems rather depressed. We are all under a great deal of stress. If only you were here, I know I would find the comfort I seek.
I know I say it all the time, but I miss you terribly. Please tell Sam I miss him too. Every time I stand in front of my window I feel as if I’m transported to the ship and I would be lying if I didn’t say my heart sinks just a little lower knowing with each passing day we move further and further apart. Soon, I hope, we will find a place to settle. And then father, you and Sam can come and join us. Just you wait and see the welcome party I have planned for you two. Believe me, I’ve had plenty of time to prepare every minute detail. I’d tell you more, but I don’t want to spoil the surprise.
I’d better get some rest now. You know how Pinky gets if I stay up too late. Besides, with all that is going on, I want to be ready if they need me. I love you father and I think of you every day. Give Sam a rub for me and make sure you take him with you to the bow. He so loves to stick his nose in the breeze.
Love,
Em
As she did most nights, Em folded the paper in precise thirds, just like father had taught. She no longer needed to measure. She slid the letter into its envelope, turned it around and sealed it with a kiss. Flipping it over, she laid the letter on her desk and gently pressed it down, running her fingers from left to right with firm pressure. Her letters were sealed like the bunks on her father’s ship; one could bounce quarters off them.
Reaching again for her pen, Em addressed the letter and in the upper corner where postage would normally go, she wrote the number 163. She hesitated just for a moment, her eyes scanning the missive, weighing it in her hands as if somehow she could mentally imbue the correspondence with the essence of her love. Kissing the letter, she opened the left hand drawer and placed the letter neatly behind number 162. Each letter stood silently at attention, all in proper order, all waiting patiently like stone soldier on station, waiting for their call to action.
Categories: Story, Emy, Letters, Bravo
40 comments:
As always, I do so appreciate your comments Meg. Didn't mean to hit you in the gut this early in the morning. Meet me at the pasty shop--sticky buns on me. :-D
Coffee or juice?
Nicely done, that one. I really like that narrative, and it really tugged at my heartstrings. I only just moved out about a year and a half ago and so I totally know how that feels. And you got it spot on. Excellent work! I'll definitely be back for more. :)
Thanks boy. Leaving is hard. Leaving knowing you are never going back, will never see your loved ones again, well, that creates emotional and psychological events most of us would be fortunate to never experience. It hurts. The mental pain manifests in physical symptoms. We seek a way to cope, to deal, to justify or understand. We beg and plead and pray and barter. But still, there is that nagging pain, that unquenchable thrist that somehow, someway we can go back in time and reverse the course of events.
But we can't. What is done is done. Final. Absolute. Em will never see her father or Sam again.
Hang on to the ones you love. Don't let them get away. None of us are promised a tomorrow.
Wow, very poignant, and you found the words that powerfully captured the moment. What's left is pure emotion. Great writing Trée.
Thanks Deb. I could not get Mario out of my mind as I was writing this piece. Even one year later, I still get emotional over the events of his death. There will never be another like him. Suffice it to say, poor Em had to be the vehicle for me to express or release a little of the residual emotion.
Oh gosh! - this is absolutely superb, Trée.
A beautifully poignant piece of writing, it was a through and through delight to read. So very vivid, so full of feeling.
She came close, her thoughts and her heart there for us to know, the cherished memories and the joy that surrounds them, yet knowing there will be no more of the same.
Heartbreaking and wonderful.
Superb!!!
Oh my dear Sweetest Sunshine, you are making me blush about six different shades of red. If I had a magic wand, not saying that I don't, but if I did, I would turn the clock back about 15 minutes and magically transport myself to your shoulder so I could see you reading this post. The eyes. I want to see your eyes reading, I want to see them smiling. I want to see them get misty. I want to see them puddle with tears of pure joy and delight.
Well, then, we would put the first magic wand away . . . :-D
You know, you are really challenging me to respond in kind to your jewel-like comments. :-)
:-D
The real challenge is finding the words to tell you, how good that chapter was. Words just don't seem to cut it, at least not any I can find.
Well, words are over-rated, so, what else you got? :-D
I am taken by the care with which she goes through the ritual of sealing the letter... and then the near audible sigh of the reader is heard as Em stores it with the others, awareness seeping in that she can't send them - won't ever send them...
I knew you were thinking of your pup as you wrote.
Terry, I think the ritual is part of her defense mechanism, the need to have a steady, stable, never changing routine gives her comfort, perhaps a sense that if she just does it enough, does it with enough love and care and attention that somehow she will be rewarded, that somehow her dream will come true.
I was thinking very much of Mario and the way he looked at us whenever we left the house and he couldn't go with us. You never saw such sad eyes. And then, whenever we would return, he would always be at the door, dancing on his hind legs until you picked him up. Never once did he just sit in the house when we came home. He was always there, always giving every last ounce of love he had, to the very end.
Awe, anyone who has ever had a special furry friend can relate to that - ~gulp~
Terry, Autumn spotted the angel in this painting by Em. I think she put that into painting of Sam on purpose. :-)
Well, let's see...I could wave my pompons and do an enthusiastic giggle to show appreciation. :-D
darn, that was supposed to be jiggle. :-)
Jiggle or giggle, either way, I'll take that visual. :-D
I think this is one of my favorite pictures yet. I can't decide whether I want to eat it or put it up on the wall :-D
Terry, I've been sitting on this image for months. If I had known you would have liked it so, I promise I would have worked it into the story sooner. ;-)
G;day Tre Im here :)
I know beta has been a pain. I couldnt see ur blog for few days. But it seems all is ok now.
Touching post as usual. I have been missing alot of ur GREAT posts. And that pic OMG so vibrant!!
Keshi.
Hey Keshi, so fricken good to see my dear southern angel in these here parts again. :-D
If you have any party left in you after last Saturday, I'm all yours. :-)
Thanks poppy-doll for the kind words. :-)
Evening, Poppet, hope you've had a lovely one. Dream sweet when you get that far, x
Very well done. I have one question though, what will she do when her supply of paper / envelopes run out? I had to ask :)
The recent set of fractals are surreal, mystical even, as if anticipating some events so profound mere mortals cannot comprehend.
SaffronSaris
Afternoon Sunshine. The temps here last night reached the mid 40s F. Now that was frailing sweeeeeeet! :-)
Hope you're having a day filled with wonder and a touch of longing to see Poppet. :-D
Hey Jenni, that's when Em asks the writing to conjure up some more. Or, she barters her ration of snoot to the others for their paper, or Trev can make paper in the lab, or they find a planet that actually has paper. :-)
Either way, I think she is okay for the moment. ;-)
Thanks Saffy. :-)
Blogger has fixed the commenting issues between old blogger accounts and blogger beta so you should be able to use your normal profile when leaving comments again.
Good to see you stopping by. :-)
Hey Sunshine, I know you are going to kill me when I tell you this, but I did an audio commentary for this post yesterday. Then I realized Audioblogger is not working with beta just yet, so that file is just sitting out there somewhere. Who knows, one of these days it might just pop up.
As soon as Audioblogger gets its act together, we'll have more audio. Promise. Mean it. :-)
I always long to linger whenever Poppet is around. :-)
Lovely, just like here. We left London grey and raining and came back to a week plus of glorious weather, who could ask for more. Summer gear back on!
Enjoy!!
I'll do my best my seductive one. :-)
I think I might be running a fever. Got anything that might help? :-D
For fever the old and tried methods are the best. I recommend you jump straight in the sack. Just whilstle, if you need me to bring you anything. :-)
Will a trumpet work?
any left? PLENTY and all for u ONLY ;-)
Keshi.
I knew you wouldn't disappoint my dear Keshi! Let me go get my boots, cause I always said when I die (from pleasure), I want to do it with them on. :-D
This post was especially magic for me. The imagery was perfect. Some of my most beautiful and vivid memories are of sailing with my father...
and the letter. I don't think you could have made this more exquisitely emotive. Outstanding.
Thank you Trée
Thank you Bean. Knowing what it is like to be on the open water with your father makes your comment very meaningful for me. Thank you for the gift. Have a great weekend Bean. :-)
That was incredible, I loved her memories of Sam, everyone needs a friend like him, very touching. The sealed with a kiss got to me too, it oozed with love.
Karen, this was a very special chapter for me to write. I was thinking of Mario the whole time. So glad you enjoyed it and saw the undercurrent of love that educated this piece. :-)
I just saw the audio comment - Hope they get that fixed up asap!! Knowing there is audio for this post and not being able to listen to it...reminds me of Von's itch, though not quite so long-term.
:-)
I recorded the audio immeadiately after this post was written. Bit of emotion in my voice as I talked about what this post really meant, in that it was as much about the whole crew as it was about Em. I'd like to hear that audio again, but I'm not sure we will ever see it.
A real shame.
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