The Lost Jewel

Her hands gripped tight around the cold stainless steel wine chiller, a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc leaning gently against the lipped edge. The sound of the ice rustled lightly as the ship swayed side-to-side. Charlotte usually dreaded this feeling, the sweat from the melting ice running an uncomfortably cool layer of moisture over her hands and the abrasive, metallic sound of her rings tapping against the sides would make her wince.

However, today was different. As of last night, her left-hand ring finger had a new addition to it. Feeling her engagement ring press against the steel wasn’t chilling - it was a warm reminder that her finacée would be there waiting to pick her up at the docks after work.They had plans to go out to a pub and share in their favourite Friday night ritual of fish and chips with an overflowing pint of ale.

She smiled, continuing out of the bar prep area and down the narrow, stark hallway that led out from the staffing quarters to the guest foyer and dining room. The dining room was easily the most opulent area of the cruise ship, and made Charlotte feel like she was a character in a mystery novel.

The floor was a deep cherry wood, which minimized the sound of movement across the floor as diners shuffled through to their seats. The walls were decorated with off-white textured wallpaper complete with gold sconces, casting a warm glow. The entire room was surrounded with windows, which during the breakfast service allowed breathtaking views of the misty Scottish coastline. Now that it was late into the evening dinner service the windows looked out into a seemingly endless pool of darkness. The chatter was loud and lively amongst the diners, making the world outside the walls fall silent.

Charlotte proceeded to the back left corner of the room where a table of four was seated, chatting loudly as she approached. Her green and grey uniform had been ironed that morning and it was in those moments she felt grateful for taking the extra time.

“Hello, I’m Charlotte and I’m assisting Stuart in your dinner service tonight. Who will be tasting the Sauvignon Blanc?” she asked, turning the label towards them.

“I will,” a blonde haired woman replied abruptly, pushing her glass towards Charlotte without making eye contact and resumed her conversation with the rest of the diners. Charlotte poured a small amount of the wine into the glass, watching it lap against the curved side, like a calm wave hitting the shore.

The woman embraced the glass by the stem, swirling it and bringing it up to her nose. She paused, and began taking a sip glacially as Charlotte remained standing by.

“Hmm. No, no that won’t work,” the woman said sharply, again without eye contact.

“Oh, okay,” replied Charlotte. She didn’t know what to do, this didn’t happen often. Usually the diners liked what they were served, or at least they were content enough to not vocalize anything to her. “Let me go get Stuart and we can suggest an alternative option for you,” she said quickly, gathering the wine chiller and making her way away from the table.

She set the wine down on the bar top, freeing her hands and waving Stuart over.

“What’s going on now?” he said as he came closer.

“Ah, table 6 doesn’t like the wine.” Charlotte replied, shrugging.

“Ok what don’t they like about it?” Stuart continued on, picking up a glass and polishing cloth.

Charlotte hesitated, “Oh I don’t know, I didn’t ask.”

Stuart sighed, closing his eyes quickly before responding, “well, Charlotte that’s not very helpful is it? Okay look, I’ll go over there and figure this out. It’s probably best that I serve it to them as well. Have you gone on break yet? Perhaps you should take a 15.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be back in a bit,” she said quietly.

Stuart rushed off to table 6, leaving Charlotte by herself. She needed a cigarette. She had been trying to quit but knew she had a pack somewhere in her bag and felt she deserved one today. As she turned to go grab one, she looked down at the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. A reject, a castaway. No one would notice if it was gone, right? She just wanted one glass anyway.

She grabbed the bottle by the neck, forgetting that the cork was off and narrowly avoiding a spill. She whisked down the hallway to the staffing quarters, grabbing her bag from her locker and digging for the pack of cigarettes. She heard footsteps coming, and wanting to avoid being spotted with the open container of wine, threw her bag over her shoulder and quickly exited the room and made her way back to the stern of the ship.

The air was cold and the wind was energetic, she could hear it whistling around the ship. She put the wine down on the edge of a bench and her bag down on the ground, rustling through the crushed up receipts and empty tins of mints as her hand grasped the cardboard cigarette box. She stood up, quickly moving a cigarette from the box to her mouth and using her right hand to shield it from the wind as she lit it.

She inhaled slowly, and sighed as she exhaled. As she enjoyed her moment, she noticed a light not so far off in the distance. It was a pale orange and she hadn’t noticed it before - despite coming out to this part of the deck often. She leaned closer, to see if she could make out the structure it was attached to. As she leaned, the ship became turbulent and before she could react her bag fell into the water, blending into the dark abyss. The wine bottle shook and fell off the bench, shattering onto the ground.

“Damn it!” she yelled, one hand gripping the railing while her torso leaning over the edge of the boat as she looked for a last glimpse of the bag. Suddenly, the ship dipped as if it had hit a rock and caught some air. Charlotte felt her feet fly out from under her and she slipped back and under the railing still holding her cigarette in one hand and the railing in the other. Her body dangled against the side of the ship, and she screamed out. The wind and waves screamed back.

Before her mind could register the situation fully, the ship dipped again, her hand no longer able to bear the weight as she lost grip of the railing.

As Charlotte fell, her mind was blank and she felt frozen, unable to scream or move. Hot body hit the water with a slam, waking up her senses and she felt the chilling temperature set in. She began treading water, she didn’t know what to do or which way to go. She began taking in her surroundings, before realizing - there wasn’t much to take in. She was surrounded by a heavy mist in every direction and could hear the ship motoring away clearer than she could see it.

She panted, continuing to feel the deep cold set in and knew she was going to have to start moving if she wanted to keep her body temperature up. As she peered through the mist, she saw it again. The orange light.

“Land!” she whispered to herself, beginning to paddle in the direction of the light. The mist dispersed it, so it was challenging to see exactly where she should be headed. She continued on nonetheless.

She was swimming at a moderate pace, being weary to keep her body warm and moving, but not to exert herself to the point of exhaustion. The looked forward, waiting for the light to become more recognizable and allow a better sense of direction. Then it occurred to her, what if the light wasn’t attached to land after all. What if it was atop a buoy, or another ship?

She began to cry, an odd sensation as her cheeks were too numb to feel the tears. She began second guessing everything. Was she going to drown out here, swimming towards a target that won’t help her?

Head spinning, Charlotte noticed that the mist was beginning to lift and just like that she could see the outline of a white lighthouse, with an orange light on top.

She swam faster, using a sudden burst of energy she had gotten from seeing the reality of something she had lost grip of. She approached the shore, her breathing was heavy as she managed to clamour to her feet. The shoreline was dimply lit, with warm highlights from the orange light and cold shadows making it hard to see the lay of the land.

She stepped out of the water, planting her left foot firmly on the ground.

“Ahh!” she exclaimed, recoiling her foot and looking down towards the ground. The entirety of the shoreline was covered in razor-like, dark green rocks. They were thin and pointed towards her, like a medieval army guarding a castle with their weapons drawn.

Her foot was bleeding aggressively, she couldn’t see how many cuts there were but it may as well have been a hundred with the way the pain was coursing up through her body. She peered up and down the shoreline, looking for a path or another way through. The wind was still aggressive and she knew she couldn’t go back into the water. There was no where else to go.

The orange light rotated towards her, and she saw to the right a small dark opening between two rocks. She walked along the edges of the water, feeling the small rough rocks against her fresh wounds. The pain became unbearable, and she dropped to her hands and knees crawling to to the opening.

She crawled in to what appeared to be a small cave, encouraging herself “okay, you can do this, just a few more steps to go.” Within seconds, a voice rang out. It was a whispered echo but it didn’t sound like her voice. “Just a few more steps to go”, it said.

Charlotte whimpered, pausing. She thought to herself, maybe it was just a regular echo, after all she had so much water in her ears her hearing was probably off. She decided not to test it, and continued crawling, silently into the depths of the cave.

It was darker than the water had been, but it was dry and sheltered from the wind. Suddenly, she heard a noise. SNAP!

It sounded like a branch breaking. Then, she heard the echo again, “snap” it said. This time it was menacing, coupled with the fact that Charlotte hadn’t said anything at all. Her heart began to race, she turned around and began making an escape back to the water.

She tried to keep silent, but her breathing was still uncontrollable and heavy. The echo spoke back, producing long drawn-out breaths. They were intensifying, the echo swirling like the wind was on the water and Charlotte moved as fast as she could while still crawling across the ground. Then, she felt a hand grip her left ankle, she screamed out as it’s arm rest against her wounded foot. The echo screamed back.

More hands began gripping her ankles, one become ten and ten became twenty. They worked their way up her legs. They all set the same size, they were cold and bone dry. She had lost the grip of her knees to the grasp of the hands pulling her back. She pressed her hands against the cold rocky surface of the cave. Her hands were wet still, allowing them to grip the ground slightly as she pulled herself forward.

She was moving forward slightly, but slowly. She feared it wasn’t enough. Then, the orange light hit the inside of the cave and the hands retreated. They were silent.

Charlotte crawled her way quickly out of the cave, peering towards the orange light. Desperate to get away from the shoreline, she stood back up on two feet and treaded her way, as lightly as she could across the razor rocks. There were about two meters of them, each step she took felt worse than the one before.

She stepped off the edge of the final rocks, inhaling in deeply and really wishing she had a cigarette. Dropping back to her hands and knees she crawled up a mossy hill, heading towards the base of the lighthouse which was still a distance away.

She looked back behind her, there were two dark streaks up the moss behind her. The blood from the bottoms of her feet leaving an inprint on them. As she was about to turn her head back around, the moss started hissing. There was a light steam and the dark streaks began to disappear, as if the moss was feasting.

Charlotte felt like she was going to faint. She resumed crawling, the moss behind her continuing to hiss. Once she reached the top of the hill she looked down to see a valley, covered in shadows as the orange light couldn’t reach its depths.

There was forest surrounding each edge of the valley, equally dark. She had to choose - dark valley or dark forest. She continued on forward, toward the valley figuring that at least, there were less known obstacles in that type of setting and it was her quickest path to the source of the orange light.

The valley was expansive, and covered in a mixture of moss, rocks and foliage. Charlotte crawled downwards feeling the grainy pebbles against her hands and knees as she scaled the gradual decline. She continued along the rock, until the rock turned into moss. She hesitated, not knowing if the moss was her friend or her enemy. She figured, there was no turning back now and proceeded through the peaks and valleys of mossy terrain.

Charlotte had no concept of time, she did not know how long she had been swimming or how long she had been on this land for. She kept crawling, crawling and crawling. It could have been minutes or hours. She was delirious, and suddenly hungry. There was nothing around but moss, leaves and branches.

Sighing, she decided to take a break. Her knees were aching and her chest hung heavy. She rolled into a seated position, slumped over and closed her eyes. Feeling the moss hiss in between her fingers, it was soft and in some way endearing, like cooking meat. She salivated. She needed some sustenance, and without really thinking brought a clump of moss to her mouth.

She chewed, the gritty dirt sinking into her gums. The moss was spongy and took a tremendous amount of chewing. Charlotte sat there, spine in a semicircle and mouth wearily chewing, when off somewhere in front of her she heard some music.

This wasn’t just any music. This was music that Charlotte adored from her hometown, it was warm and folky and flutey. It made her feel like a child again, walking through the city centre with her mom and stopping to watch a performer on the street.

Motivated once again, she took on her crawling stance once again and followed the likely sound. Her eyes began to close, and she forced them awake. “Not too much longer,” she told herself.

“Yes, not too much longer,” a voice echoed beneath her. She smirked and replied “you’re not really there, you’re just in my mind from before.”

“You’re just in my mind from before” the voice echoed back.

“You can’t touch me, I’m almost there,” Charlotte egged on. She looked up and the white lighthouse with the orange light was closer than ever.

“Almost there” the voice echoed.

The voice. The music. The orange light. Charlotte’s head swirled. She was dizzy and struggling with every step forward.

The cusp of the valley was an upward hill, she knew she wasn’t going to be able to crawl it as her knees had become raw from the journey so far. She repositioned, propping herself up on her toes with her arms stretched toward the ground. She’d hobble her way up.

The moss hissed, violently this time with the the dripping of blood from her feet, tiptoeing above. The hill became more of a mountain to Charlotte, it felt steep and intimidating. She was close to the top when she glanced up, hearing the music loud and seeing the orange light shine bright.

As she brought her focus back, her calf began throbbing in pain. The sounds of the hissing moss below her overtook the music and the light and anything else. She couldn’t move, she was frozen. Then, her legs lost their agility falling numb against the the side of the hill she hung onto a rock above with one hand. The orange light circulated, and looked her in the eyes. It was too bright, she winced and lost grip. She was falling back down into the valley.

In that moment, she thought of watching the musician on the street with her mom, the blonde haired woman at table 6, and the overflowing pint of ale she would have been enjoying with her fiancée. Her mind raced with the thoughts of all the things she wanted to do after they got married, the “I love you’s” she still had left to say.

She landed on her back at the bottom of the hill, starting upwards. A tear fell down her cheek and this time, she could feel it.

As she took a long, deep breath, Charlotte rested her left hand upon a piece of spongy green moss. Her ring was still on her hand, and it lit up as the orange light met its carefully cut edges. A bright orange jewel, lost amongst the green and the grey.