There's a small town alongside the English Channel called Black Waters Port. A town that has seen better days, the plague had diminished the town and took many good people with its outbreaks. Once the plague was over, the people of Black Waters Port continued to move forward, life never stopped moving. Not one day.
In the early 18th century, black Waters Port began to build new docks and warehouses along the rocky side of the ocean. Not long after the workers finished that project, a new church for St Anne was erected, and colorful row houses sat along side the dockyard for senior officers and their families who needed to be close for the job. A few years later, the King and Queen built a naval training academy further down the shore line, bringing in even more high ranking jobs.
Black Waters Port, once stricken with the smell of death, now beaming in pride as it grew in population. After the naval academy gained popularity for the townsmen to send their sons, more people moved to Black Waters, looking to start a new life on the sea shore. Slowly but surely, new family town-homes were being built on the North side by the Common, which happened to be by the dockyard.
The population grew to a steady 24,000 people by the mid 1700s. There were improvement commissioners appointed who cleaned and paved the streets and a scavenger who threw out the trash. Light men were assigned to light the oil lamps at night and guardsmen to protect the cobbled streets in the darkness of the night. Black Waters Port, was a pretty town.
Audrey sat in the infirmary, staring at the small white bed with the crisp, thin looking sheets. She picked at the flat, feather stuffed pillow that caressed the head of a boy, with the dirt in his ears and on his face. His forehead with wrinkles that someone his age should not have. She glanced at his hands, placed gently along his sides. His short, chewed up fingernails with dirt encrusted around each one.
She touched his hands. They felt firm, and rough, like the hands of the workers in the dockyard. She placed his hand gently back by his side. She looked longingly at the boy, who laid there, peacefully, at rest. A nurse scurried by, pausing to check on the boy's wounds. She looked at Audrey. " What happened, my dear?"
Audrey looked at her and bit her lower lip. A tear burned as it slid down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away and took a deep breath, looking away as she answered, "Pirates, milady." The nurse looked at her wide eyed, remembering herself of that horrid night not just a month ago. She shook her head and squeezed Audrey's shoulder. "Your friend will be okay, I hope." She then turned curtly, and walked away, tending to the others with similar, if not worse injuries than the boy who laid in front of her.
Audrey laid her arms on the bed and rest her head, but she could not cry. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. But it was her fault Hayes was here, Hayes wanted to leave town a month ago with his girlfriend Clara. He had invited her to come with,but Clara wouldn't allow it, so Hayes stayed. Clara stayed. Everyone stayed. And almost everyone died.
Audrey didn't lift her head, or care to look when she heard footsteps coming her way. She didn't care if visiting hours were over, she didn't want to leave. But the footsteps stopped next to her, and then she heard a rustle of a dress and whoosh as someone sat down beside her.
"It wasn't your fault, you know." Clara speaks.
Audrey slides her head to the right, staring right at the bubblegum pink dress with the hand sewn beads that trickled down the gown. She looked up higher, glancing at the girl with the pretty blonde curly hair, the blue eyes that sparkled with happiness. But her eyes looked empty today as she sat in the room, next to Hayes. Next to Audrey.
"I'm not mad at you, Audrey. You are Hayes' best friend, he would have stayed, whether I would let him, or not. He would have never left you." She looked at Audrey like she was a homeless dog, sitting on the corner of the Inn, waiting for scraps.
"Hayes is at Death's door, because of me." Audrey's eyes squeeze shut as she holds another tear in, and Clara places a hand on her leg.
"He will make it. You can always come talk to me, you know."
Audrey sits up quickly, angered by Clara's words. "No Clara, I cannot come talk to you, you weren't here that night. You don't know what happened. This is all my fault. If Hayes dies, I am alone. There is no one else for me. It was always just Hayes." Audrey lets out a sob and puts her face in her hands.
Clara, pained, wraps her arms around Audrey's small, malnourished body. "Look, I know you think I hate you, but I don't. Hayes loves you, and you're his best friend. Come stay with me until he is better. You can take a bath over the hot fire, brush your hair, and have a good meal. The cook made fresh brown bread this morning, it smells fantastic. Please, please Audrey, just come stay with me."
She removes her arms from around Audrey and takes her hands, forcing Audrey to look at her. Her face now red and swollen from the tears that were flowing freely down her face.
"Why, Clara?" Audrey sniffles. "Why now do you care? I have lived on the streets my whole life, but now you are offering your home to me, why?"
Clara looks at her sadly, and then looks over at Hayes, "Because I know he would want me to do what is right, this just seemed right. I'm sorry." Clara got up. "You are welcome to come home with me, but I know well enough that I cannot force you to." She starts to move away from the little twin bed.
Audrey slowly moves towards Hayes' head and presses her forehead against his warm, feverish cheek. She leans in, her lips close to his ear, "I'll be back tomorrow." She inhales the smell of his sandy hair one last time before getting up and following Clara home.
To Be Continued . . .
