Undertow Read Free

boat is one of the most dangerous places to work, not even taking into account the dangers the water possessed.
    “You know far more than you think, but you will be inside with me. If you feel the need to go out and help bait on occasion, I would not object. Otherwise, I prefer to keep you where there is little danger.” He mumbled something under his breath as the kettle whistled from the stove beside him. I never did discern what he said.
    “I can cook for you all. I know that will be a huge help. The boys can stay on deck longer and spend less time cleaning up the galley afterward. Besides, it will give me a little time to study up on a few things. I haven't had the luxury of idle time in years. Maybe I'll find I enjoy being lazy.”
    He tossed a glance over his shoulder while he poured the scalding hot liquid into a brown mug from the seventies.
    “Fredriksens are not lazy, Aesa. It is not in your nature to be so. You are one of the hardest workers I know.”
    Again, his compliment caught me off guard, and I found myself ill-equipped to respond to him. Perhaps he knew me better than I had believed.
    “Then I guess you'll have to find ways to put that work ethic to good use,” I mumbled uncomfortably, loosely shielding myself from his gaze with a veil of long auburn waves.
    When I finally brushed my hair aside, I saw him looking over at the clock on the microwave. It was nearly four in the morning.
    “I have an idea,” he said suddenly. “If we get cleaned up now, I could see if Earl will repay the debt he owes me and fly us to the mainland. It'll be faster and easier to get things done there. They'll be far better equipped to supply what we need on short notice and it will save us a lot of time in the long run. I know you had a long day yesterday; are you up for another?”
    “Whatever you need, Dad.”
    “Let us go then. You shower first. There will be barely enough hot water for the two of us; I don't want you to freeze to death if we run out. I remember how long it takes to wash all that hair of yours.” He placed the mug of tea down in front of me, resting his hand gently on my back. “It will still be warm when you are done.”
    “Thanks,” I said softly, soaking in the normalcy the moment provided. But before it could permeate, I stood and made my way down the hall, escaping to the bathroom. After locking the door, I looked up into the broken mirror, staring at the broken reflection of myself. Broken , I thought. Perhaps it wasn't just my relationship with my father that needed mending. Maybe I did too.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    3
     
     
     
    After two days of preparation, it was time to load the vessel and head out to sea. I tried to play my nerves off, but I was failing miserably. On the drive over to the docks, there were several times when my father looked over at me and appeared as though he wanted to say something, but then stopped himself. Afraid to start a fight, I never asked him what he wanted to tell me. I was too on edge.
    We pulled up in front of the Norwegian Queen, and she looked just as majestic as I remembered. My father may not have taken care of himself, but he did take care of her. Navy blue with hints of orangey-red, she was a stunning testament to my heritage and legacy. The fact that she was kept in better repair than his relationships gnawed at me slightly as we got out to board her.
    “Don't you dare try to load those bags on the ship, Aesa. I'll get one of the boys to do that. Wait here. I'll be right back.”
    I watched while he gimped his way toward his pride and joy, yelling for one of his deckhands as he approached. Moments later, a familiar face popped up on the other side of the rail. Robbie Townsend had been on my father's ship since I was sixteen. He was only two years older than me, but looked at least a decade more; yet another confirmation that life at sea was hazardous to your appearance and longevity. Luckily for him, he still had his boy-next-door appeal. He may