scott_sanford

Who could find one lost ship in the immensity of the seas? Who would want to find them? And even if they did, who could do anything about it?

If you haven’t read Psychopomp by Aristide Twain yet, go read Psychopomp.

Jenny Everywhere
and her most Inevitable Friend in
Storm's End
by Scott Sanford; June 2023

Fast gliding along, a gloomy bark
Her sails are full, though the wind is still,
And there blows not a breath her sails to fill.
.... – Thomas Moore, September 1804

Dark clouds roiled high above the ocean, dropping rain sporadically onto the waves and the three masted fluyt that was being tossed about by the disgruntled sea.

The crew paid little mind to the rain or the heave of the ocean; they’d been through worse, and they’d been through much worse. They’d been at sea for… for longer than any of them cared to remember. Every man aboard knew the ship and the sea, in all their varying moods. And then, against all expectation, something new happened.

Two figures stepped out on deck, from where nobody quite saw, two women on a deck that had not been trod by a woman in… in a very long time.

One wore sturdy trousers and a gaudily colorful scarf, and had the look of the East Indies lands that they’d once sworn to reach; the other was pale as a fish belly, garbed in a gentlewoman’s dress all in funeral black. Neither belonged on the ship.

“Hello, everyone!”, cried the first, flashing a bright smile, as if she was welcoming them from a harbor dock.

Most of the crew still remembered harbors, and docks, and cheerful women.

The crewmen traded looks, keeping their distance. Those unlucky enough not to be at a safe distance backed away slowly. The ship picked up few visitors, even fewer willing ones, and it was rare indeed that someone seeking them out ended well for everyone.

“Please call the captain,” asked the other. “We’ve come a long way to talk to Van der Decken.”

Several seamen ran for the captain’s cabin, either to deliver the message or to be away from the apparitions.

Soon he appeared, a grizzled Dutchman in water-stained finery who looked as if he’d been at sea for almost as long as he’d really been at sea.

“Aye, and what be this?”, he asked with muted skepticism, his eyes flickering over the women. He was wary but showed no fear; anything a man could fear had happened long ago.

“Hello, Hendrick,” said the pale one. “It’s been a long time.”

“Should I know you?”, the captain asked in surprise, addressed so personally.

“We’ve met before, but you were busy.” She looked about; all around them most of the crew had managed to find places to watch without getting too close. She gave them a wistful smile and said gently, “The last time I was aboard everyone was very busy.”

Her words landed in their ears in good Dutch, with the accent of an Amsterdam that they’d left… a long time ago. It did very little to convince anyone aboard that they were facing a woman from the Netherlands.

“I should remember if we fished you out of the drink,” the captain allowed, “but I don’t think I recognize you.”

“Most people do, eventually.”

“But you don’t know me,” chimed in the other one cheerfully. “Hi. This is my first time aboard.”

“Hello, lassie,” the captain ventured cautiously. If anything the Eastern girl seemed more out of place.

“I should explain. We were talking and we realized that there was some unfinished business here. And she’s really not a person who leaves things unfinished. So here we are!” She nodded in satisfaction, as if she had explained anything.

“You swore a mighty oath once, Captain,” the pale one observed quietly. “To the storm and to any god that would listen, that you would round the Cape if it took you until the Last Day.”

“...Aye, y’ve heard, then.”

“I heard you say it. And I believed you. But you’ve been at sea for a while now. Have you thought about renouncing your vow?”

“What’s done is done. There’s no end to our voyage.” The crewmen around them nodded or looked away at the captain’s words, but none disagreed.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I’m very good at endings.” The pale woman touched her pendant, a plain silver cross with a loop at the top. She looked to the one with the scarf, who nodded confidently.

“Go ahead, tell him,” she said.

“Until the last day of the world, Captain,” she repeated. She added, “But you didn’t say which world.”

“There is but the one,” grumbled the captain skeptically.

“Oh, I have some news for you!”, enthused the Eastern girl, with a wild look. “There’s a lot more to see than you know.”

“I’ve sailed every sea this cursed ship will reach, around the globe.”

“And I think that’s a great start.” The woman in the scarf shrugged and grinned as if anticipating a surprise.

“You’re a nautical man, you know it is a globe.” her pale friend said. “You know that days and nights are a matter of place as well as time. You just need to be in a place where it’s already the last day.”

“There are worlds being born every day, and every day there are worlds dying. You just need the right navigator.” The Eastern girl pulled her headband down over her face, where two glass disks covered her eyes. She looked out into the storm and the rain. What she saw there she did not say.

“A world dying?”, the captain repeated. “How is that a place that can be sailed to?”

“That’s my part in the plan,” she said, shifting her gaze back to him, her eyes uncomfortably alive behind the lenses. “If you’ll let me take the helm this ship can go more places than you can imagine.”

“You’ve been at sea long enough, Captain Van der Decken,” the pale woman said. “Let me bring you into port.”

The character of Jenny Everywhere is available for use by anyone, with only one condition. This paragraph must be included in any publication involving Jenny Everywhere, in order that others may use this property as they wish. All rights reversed.

You should recognize the other characters, too. You might not remember the name Hendrick Van der Decken, but you’ve heard of his ship. And Jenny’s pale friend? Yeah, she's got this. She’s very good at endings.

Read other Jenny Everywhere stories