Aurora - Wings of the Goddess Pt. 02

This is a work of fiction. All characters are 18 years and over.

***

DESIDERATA

The old man sat hunched over his old silver laptop, hands clasped as if in prayer, the latest instalment a few keystrokes short of completion. Another script, another payday. His work had been attracting glowing critiques- his best work yet- and the more he made now the longer he could stay at sea, when the wet packed up and the trade winds returned. This, after all, might be the ultimate season.

Watson would be lying- not least of all to himself- if he said he hadn't hoped the idea would just go away- Beck and her dream of learning to fly. But it hadn't. In fact the girl just doubled down, biting back her terror of doctors to do a medical exam, before acquiring and ARN, the aviation reference number that would be hers for the rest of her days. Then she sat for, and passed, her very first aviation exam- Meteorology- ably assisted by Watson's constant quizzing and her own native intelligence. Sailing proved to be a wonderful classroom and she scored ninety eight percent, having been hardly able to write her own just a year before. The achievement spurred Beck on to ever more intense study and clinched the old man's decision. He would take Bragg up on his offer.

"Dommy!" a voice shouted and he jumped. "Dommy! Quick!"

"Not now now, Sweeheart..." the old man said, clenching his jaw, "I'm work-iiiing!"

"Quick! You have to see this."

"What is it?"

"Not telling. Hurry!"

Watson didn't hurry, and it was a full ten minutes before he hit the crucial key, launching his latest creation into the ether.

Beck was in the cockpit when he emerged, reclining on a side seat, her pride and joy- a second hand Mac Book- propped on her thighs. Emerging into the light, the old man scanned the familiar surrounds. "What's up, Moosh? What's all the excitement about?"

"Well he's gone now," the little blonde said, "thanks to you."

"Who has?" Watson asked, idly scratching his balls. He looked over the side. Nothing to see.

Beck struggled upright and set her computer on the cockpit table, on top of several open aviation text books. "Not telling."

"Suit yourself." Watson shrugged and turned to go.

"Oh my god!" Beck whispered in breathless excitement, "There he is."

"There who is?"

Beck pointed. "Look!"

A gleaming red dragonfly settled on the starboard wheel and sat showing off its glittering, gossamer wings. It was tradition- Tropical lore- the appearance of the first dragonfly signalled an end to the monsoon. Soon the trades would blow in and they'd blow out, under Aurora's Arctic-white sails. Watson sat down and slung his arm around her. "Well thank dog for that! You know what that means, don't you?"

"What?"

"We can finally haul canvas and get the you-know-what outta here."

"But look at the dragonfly." Beck breathed, "Isn't he gorgeous? Know what? I'm gonna look him up on the internet." After poring over her laptop for a moment she suddenly went, "Ah hah! Tramea loewii, a common glider." She looked up at the shimmering insect. "That's a silly name, isn't it boy? There's nothing common about you."

"Where's the fly spray." Watson teased and Beck elbowed his ribs.

"Know what we should do?" she said, her hand slipping under the leg of his shorts. "We should have a celebratory fuck."

"Aren't you working this afternoon?"

Katrina of the Marina had hired Beck as a part-time assistant. She looked so... grown up... in her company uniform; khaki cargo shorts and dark blue polo shirt bearing the company logo, dark blue baseball cap similarly emblazoned. With her sky blue eyes and platinum blonde hair, stunning little body and cheeky demeanour, she soon established a following- old salts mainly, who'd swing past to purchase some frippery or the other for the pleasure of a quick conversation.

Beck shrugged. "So what?"

"You'll turn up to work looking all hot and bothered. Remember last time? Poor old Katrina thought you were coming down with the flu."

"Naww... just a quick one. You can do me doggy so I don't mess up my hair."

Watson thought about it. It was tempting, but would violate the Aurora Convention: Article one; work first, play later. Still, the dragonfly's appearance was indeed auspicious and really did deserve a celebration. "Look, Beck. You nip downstairs and remake your bed. And if you happen to be bending over it when I accidentally walk in..."

"Hah!" Beck leapt to her feet. "Pushover!"

Watson slapped her butt. "No. You're gonna be the pushover. In about two minute's time."

"Two minutes? Gonna make me gag for it?"

"Rush, rush, rush. Why don't you just slow down a bit? Smell the roses?"

"Come on." she held out her hand, "Last one down is a rotten egg." The old man stood and she tilted her head to look up at him. "Know what, Dommy? I love this life. I hope it can be like this forever."

Watson's heart hit the soles of his bare feet. It wouldn't. "Would this morning do? Forever might be a bit of an ask."

"A hundred years then." she said flatly. "My final offer." Turning, she gave the bright red dragonfly a hearty thumbs up. "Thanks, Tramea loewii. When you hear me having an orgasm downstairs, it'll all be thanks to you."

* * *

Watson began preparing piecemeal for their departure, kidding himself he was unsure of the date while in fact he was just reluctant to go. As if by delaying their exit he could somehow forestall the end of the idyll, though of course the clock was ticking in spite of the ploy. The Universe, as it often did, settled it for him, and the decision turned up one morning in the shape of Marina Katrina. Watson was washing the breakfast dishes when he heard her footsteps on the concrete outside, followed shortly after by her standard cry.

"Ahoy there, Captain Watson. You home?"

Watson stopped what he was doing and dried his hands. "Look out! Prepare to repel boarders!"

"A cockroach in the sugar bowl should do the trick." Karina said dryly. "Am I right to come on board?"

'If only', Watson rolled his eyes in the privacy of the saloon. If she so much as crooked her finger. But her husband was a glowering redneck who took far too little notice of his beautiful wife and far too much of her little blonde sidekick. As fun as it was to imagine doing Katrina o the settee, going down that path could only lead to disaster. "You're always welcome, Kat, you know that. Fancy a cuppa?"

Katrina kicked off her red high heels and the boat rolled gently as she stepped onto the deck. "Nahh..." she sighed, "I gotta get back to the office."

By the time Watson had pulled on a T-shirt and given his head a vigorous rub, Katrina had taken a seat in the cockpit. Dressed in her work clothes, a tight grey skirt and button-up short-sleeved white shirt, she looked cool, efficient and simply delicious. Watson dipped his head. "Morning, Ma'am. You look stunning, as always."

"Oh you." Katrina scoffed, raising her arm to sweep back her hair, covert female body-language that said, 'if things were different...' She looked around. "Where's the Beckinator?"

"Out practicing for the Formula One."

"Another driving lesson?"

"Mmm hmm." Watson nodded. "That poor bloody instructor. I do believe they've put him on valium."

"Oh that girl of yours." Katrina laughed.

"Bloody shocker, isn't she?"

"Silly boy, that's not what I meant. She's just so full of life. Always on the charge like there's not one minute to lose." Katrina heaved a heartfelt sigh. "Oh to have so much energy."

"What would you do with it?"

Katrina looked around. "Go sailing of course. God how I miss it."

"Well like I keep saying. You're more than welcome to come with us any old time."

"No offence, Damo, but that's not what I mean. Thanks anyway."

"Then get yourself a boat. Embezzle one out of the company or something. It can't be that hard." He winked. I'll cover for you."

"Nice thought," Katrina said with a sad smile, "but Pete's just not into it. And with two littlies at school."

"Then find another husband." Watson said. "There must be thousands out there, millions. Find yourself one with a boat."

"Bugger that! I'll just have the boat."

Watson snapped his fingers. "Sorted."

"Till I'm in the middle of the Pacific in a blow, and the nuts and bolts are popping out of my back."

"Nuh." Watson shook his head. "You'll find a way. I'll bet you dinner. On the Galapagos Islands."

"You're a bad influence, Mister." Katrina said with a sexy smile. "Anyway, don't go doing me any favours because I happen to be the bearer of bad news."

"You're repossessing my berth?"

She nodded. "Sorry, mate, it's just been sold. And the annual migration's about to get underway. We're all booked out I'm afraid."

"You hardly need to apologise, Kat. You've given us the past four months virtually for free. Jesus, you even let us slip her for nix and discounted the anti-foul. I should kneel down and kiss your feet."

"Really?" Katrina arched her eyebrows, clearly flirting, "You have no idea how much I'd enjoy that."

"How long till you have to evict us?" Watson asked, steering the conversation back to safer ground.

"Pardon?" Straightening, Katrina pressed her knees together against the tingling in her groin. "Oh, there's no screaming hurry. This afternoon?" Watson looked at her aghast and she slapped her thigh. "Just kidding." she laughed. "It's two weeks till settlement. As long as you're gone before the new owner turns up it's all gee. I can hunt around for a mooring if you want me to."

Watson shook his head. "Thanks, but no. I want to make the most of the season. Before Beck grows her wings and flies away."

"So it's actually happening?"

"Uh huh." Watson nodded. "Don't tell her though. It's not official."

"Of course not. Are you going with her?"

"Back to the city? No way."

Katrina stuck out her bottom lip. "Naww... poor Damo. Watch'a gonna do without your sweet little shipmate?"

"I don't know. Sit back and enjoy the tranquillity?"

"What rubbish! You adore her, I can tell. I mean I'm gonna be heartbroken. I can't imagine what it's gonna be like for you."

Neither could he. On purpose. For the first time in his life Watson had taken refuge in that great Egyptian river, de Nial, rather than ponder the stark reality of life without Beck. "Honestly?" he said, "I try not to think about it."

There was a moment's awkward silence and Katrina stood to leave. "Oh well," she said, smoothing her skirt, "good for Rebekah, though I'm sorry you're losing her all the same. Not losing her, no, I'm sorry, that's the wrong word."

"It's okay, Kat, I know what you mean."

Katrina heaved a deep sigh. "Well, as the saying goes. All happiness contains the seed of its own unhappiness."

"Who said that?"

"Confucius?" Katrina shrugged. "The Dalai Lama? I don't know. Some smarty-pants."

"Better to have loved and lost." Watson shrugged.

"Yeah yeah." Katrina said, aching to spill the beans on love and loss. "Anyway, I'd better make a move. Those eviction notices ain't gonna deliver themselves."

Watson stepped off the swim platform onto the walkway then held out his hand to help Katrina down. Back on terra firma, she slipped on her high-heels, gaining a couple of inches, and they set off side-by-side for the gate. "Can we at least take you and Pete out for dinner?" the old man asked. "Just to say thanks?"

Desolation crossed the woman's pretty face like a cloud shadow. "Peter's not an out-to-dinner sort of guy." she said quietly. It was true. He was more a 'get shitfaced at the pub with his buddies' sort of guy. A 'ring the wife at all hours and demand she come pick him up' sort of guy. A grab her by the throat and snarl, 'If I ever catch you looking sideways at another man' sort of guy.

"Well what about just the three of us?"

Tears welled in Katrina's eyes as she looked at him with a sweet smile.

"Fish and chips on the jetty it is then."

"That would be super."

"Oh well." Watson said, pulling up at the gate and offering his hand. Katrina looked left and right, checking the coast was clear, then swept him into a hug. The old man caught a whiff of her scent and felt the firm cushions of her breasts against his chest, but most of all in that hasty embrace he sensed her spirit. A bird with a broken wing, keening for the sky. Breaking off she pushed him away. "Give my love to the Beckinator." she said, quickly smearing her eyes. "And don't let her forget she's working this saturday."

"I won't."

The Universe did its thing again, rescuing them from an awkward farewell with the ring of an iPhone. Katrina turned and left without further ado, answering her phone as she walked away.

'Such a fucking waste', Watson cursed inwardly, and such a sad fate for such a handsome young woman, of such starkly proven bravery and resilience. And all because she'd bowed to the will of a self-interested 'other'. As he himself had done for the greater part of his adult life. 'All happiness', he thought, padding barefoot down the long concrete finger, 'contains the seed of its own unhappiness'. She got that right.

* * *

Aurora was looking less like a marina-queen and more like a hard-bitten passage-maker. Internal stowage was crammed with supplies and the topsides had been pressure-washed clean of every last dollop of bird shit. The RIB was sporting a new canvas cover to keep flying fish and stowaways out, and the running-rigging had been dressed and secured. It was going on for lunch. Beck was in her cabin, flat out on her bed, cooling her brain after a morning of Performance and Loading, while the old man was in the saloon watching cartoons. He was just contemplating a drug-break when a voice outside called...

"Knock, knock, is anyone home?"

Watson shot upright and Beck materialised at the door to her cabin. "That was Tanya."

Watson slid out from behind the table. "Nuh." he shook his head, "It must be Kat, here to evict us."

"You old deafy." Beckscoffed, mounting the companionway. "It's Tan. I'll bet you a fuck."

"Impossible. She's up in the Arctic. Or on the moon or Jupiter or something."

Beck disappeared up through the hatch and an instant later the deck resounded as she jumped up and down. "Tanny! Tanny! Dommy! It's Tan!"

Watson got to his feet to go see the miracle for himself. And there she was, a huge grin on her sun-browned face, large as life and twice as beautiful. "Well, bugger me!" the old man breathed.

"Ahoy there, handsome."

"Well bugger me."

"How about a kiss first?"

"Bloody security. They'd let anybody in."

Beck bounded from the boat into Tanya's arms. "Goodness, look at you!" Tanya cried, after whirling the girl around in a breast-crushing clinch.

"Tanny!" Beck squealed. "What are you doing here?"

"Everyone's gotta be somewhere, Darlin'."

"But you look amazing!"

And she did. Clad in a short, blue, floral-print button-up dress, she'd shed a few kilos as a result of her privations, living on a rebel ship chasing super-trawlers, before traipsing across the steppes on some cause-dejour. She pushed her sunglasses back to reveal a pale anti-tan mask and her hair, now over her shoulders, was sporting a stylish blaze of grey.

"That's not Tanya!" Watson teased, "Where's the cast?"

"Oh that? I was only wearing it for sympathy."

"Is Rodge here?" Beck asked hopefully, looking around.

"Rodge?" Tanya frowned. "Rodge... Rodge... Oh you mean Rodge, as in my husband? The man who now spends every bleeding minute saving elephants and tigers and jolly frill-necked gerbils? The tilting at windmills Rodge, holding back the tide?"

"Yes that Rodge." Beck said, little miffed. "Where is he?"

"Wouldn't have a clue, Pet. He was in Mongolia last time I bumped into him." Turning, she picked up a mop she had parked next to a power-board. "Here, I brought you a present."

Watson leant over the side and took the proffered gift.

"And here's a bucket."

"Really, Tan," Watson said, "you shouldn't have."

"Hang on, I haven't finished yet." Looking up, she whistled and Watson glimpsed movement at the front of the boat. Beck looked past Tanya and drew a sharp breath.

"Vicky!"

Watson's heart muscled its way into his throat as Vicky walked stiffly towards him, trying to stifle a wall-to-wall grin. Beck hit the young woman full-tilt and they hugged, staggering in circles beside the boat while Tanya looked at the old man with a big, smug smile. "Cabin girl. One for the use of."

The old man climbed down and took Tanya's face in his hands. "Really Tan, you shouldn't have."

"That's no problem. I mean I could hardly leave her behind."

"I mean the mop." Watson said and kissed her soundly on the mouth, "It's what I've always wanted."

Setting Tanya aside, the old man stepped up to Vicky as she held out her hands. Taking them, the old man leaned in and planted a chaste, closed-mouth peck on her pillowy lips.

"Come on you guys," Beck called, hopping onboard and beckoning, "come on up!"

Tanya went first, giving Watson a moment to sidle into Vicky for some exploratory contact. They'd been in touch by email and a couple of times by phone, but her ardour had apparently cooled over the past few of months. Not, as Watson feared, because she'd lost interest, but because unbeknown to him, reshaping her life had taken so much of a toll. She was thinner than he remembered, somehow brittle, but there was a vibrancy to her aura nevertheless. "You're looking well." the old man said, seizing the nearest platitude.

"Thank you, Damon." Vicky replied stiffly, "So are you."

"Come on, you two." Beck gestured. "Cup of tea, Tanny? I can go and put the kettle on."

"Know what I'd like?" Tanya mused, "A bloody double espresso."

"Oh..." Beck frowned. "You mean a coffee? I don't think we've even got instant."

Tanya stuck her head through the hatch. "My god. That smell. It brings back so many memories." Pulling out, she touched Beck's arm. "Tell you what, Sweetheart. Why don't we head into town? Just you and me? There's this sweet little coffee shop everyone raves about."

"But..." Beck blinked, "I don't... like..."

"Yes," Tanya nodded slowly and emphatically, "you do!"

The penny dropped. "Oh, coffee. I thought you said a smack in the mouth. No, I love coffee."

Tanya ticked her under the chin. "That's my girl."

"Would you like to come downstairs while I get changed?"

"Why not?"

Tanya climbed down the companionway, and Beck led her aft, into her room. Closing the door, she ripped off her T-shirt and reefed up her bra, then arched her back and thrust her breast into Tanya's waiting mouth. "Know what?" she whispered, raking her fingers through Tanya's dark hair.

Hands down the back of Beck's shorts, kneading her butt, Tanya shook her head. "Nuh."

"I didn't really need to get changed."

"Really?" Tanya said then paused to change breasts. "Well you want to know what?" She leant in to feast for a moment then broke off, "I don't really want a stupid coffee. But I've got a room at the Quest if you'd care to join me, and I accidentally packed the double dildo."

Beck stuffed the bare minimum into her backpack- clean bra and a spare pair of undies, her new green handbag containing phone, wallet, passport and wedding ring. "Oh Tanny!" she cried, throwing the strap over one shoulder, "It's just so awesome to see you."

"I would say the same but I really detest understatement."

"Are Dommy and Macca gonna fuck?"

"Well that's up to them." Tanya shrugged, "But if I was a betting woman..."

Watson and Vicky were sitting on opposite sides of the cockpit when the pair emerged, dipping their toes in a shallow conversation. Beck swept her long blonde hair over one shoulder and gathered it up. "How long will you be hanging around?" she asked Macca, absent-mindedly weaving a plait like platinum anchor rope.