The mariner has always felt at home around the water. A ship’s billowing white sails bring him more comfort than any candlelit window. The rolling waves keep him balanced as he walks and every rope secures him to the future. He feels the strongest when he stands on that mast.

The mariner’s daughter fears the sea. She has no trust for its murky depths. They are dark, they are scary, they cannot be seen. She was down there once and no matter how she twisted or turned, she could not find her way up again. She is told that when they pulled her from it, she was filled with more water than air.

The daughter’s husband runs through the rain. The downpour soaks through his jacket and then through his shirt. His waterlogged shoes splash through another puddle and he wonders if his pants will be stained forever by the muddy street waste. He does not truly care. It is just a distraction. Something to keep his mind off the medicine he prays will save his son’s life.

The husband’s son wants to be cool. The fever has flooded his senses and he cannot tell what is true from the false. His bedroom ceiling spins before his eyes and he wonders when the heat will end. His mother presses a damp cloth to his forehead, but it only brings him a brief respite. The cool is just a little island, before the sickness pulls him under one final time.

The son’s little brother steps foot on the boat. He does not fear the waves like his mother. He is not distracted by the storm like his father. His brother never lived long enough to figure out how he felt. This brother is the one who survived and the one who returned. He is a mariner.

©

Afton Jagels is a freelance writer from Kansas City. She is the president of a creative writing workshop called Ink’d, but has never finished a NaNoWriMo. Afton has won a poetry contest at Drury University, where she will soon be graduating with a bachelor’s degree in English and Writing.