Ocean Wave Jewelry
Stories similar to this that you might like too.
Aquamarine and pearl earrings for a bride to give her new husband. Silver bracelets with a turquoise stone as its center, a gift for the woman he loves—who may or may not love him in return. Necklaces of pearls strung on silver threads and adorned with turquoise from Tahiti.
A pendant carved out of coral is worn close to the heart. The jewelry maker, whose hands are covered in tiny cuts, sits before them all at the market square and listens as they tell him about their loved ones and their dreams.
In exchange, he gives each man a small pouch made from tanned leather that has been lined with a thin silk cloth and decorated by stitching together the ends of three strands of blue cotton thread.
“I’ll make sure it’s good for my sister,” says one man after seeing a necklace his wife would love, “but I’m not buying this for me.”
He smiles as though pleased with himself for making a joke, but when the other men laugh, he becomes embarrassed. It is clear there is something wrong—some unspoken secret between him and his wife. But what? They have known each other since they were children and married young. He has never seen her cry, yet she keeps her face down. What could be causing her grief?
One man takes up the pouch, feeling its weight in his hand. His eyes move to the beads sewn onto the cloth. There is nothing remarkable about them—two white and two black pearls and a few round-cut aquamarines that catch the light from the lanterns hung above. Still, his thoughts turn to Tahiti.
“She will like this very much,” he says, and then turns to the jeweler with a wide smile.
In the market stalls and the alleyways of the city, he sees many women who seem happy; some even appear joyful. One is laughing while she holds her newborn son, which reminds him of another baby in his arms. She does not notice the resemblance.
The jeweler nods as he watches him walk away with his wife’s gift. Perhaps he had expected such generosity from him. After all, it was the same man who bought so many gifts last year, more than anyone else—not that he can recall the names of those people, but his memory is good and he knows he should remember the ones who spent most generously.
But perhaps he is getting old after all, because he cannot recall what each man bought for whom. He hopes no one remembers either.
“How are you finding our city?” says a voice. He is surprised to hear such a pleasant tone coming from someone whose mouth is full of food. The words come slowly as if they have been sucked into the hole left by the bread. The voice continues as the food moves back into the man’s mouth. “I’ve never seen one as beautiful as this.”
The man stops short, almost toppling over, but manages to stay upright by grabbing hold of the edge of a stall.
“Are you well, sir?” says the seller as the man tries to straighten up. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
It is then that the man sees how tall the man standing before him truly is. He must be at least seven feet, easily the tallest man he has ever met. His dark hair is shaved close to his skull; only a few locks of it hang down to cover his right eye. The scar across this eye is long gone—it was cut away by a surgeon in Tahiti years ago—and yet the man still wears a patch over his good eye.
The jeweler stands next to him but seems smaller somehow.
“I am fine,” says the man. “And yes, thank you, I think I need to sit down for a moment.”
He notices the jewels hanging on a necklace around the stranger’s neck. Some are small stones, others large, but all of them shine in the moonlight.
“That is a necklace of rare beauty,” says the seller. “Do you want to sell it? It is worth ten gold pieces!”
The man looks at him for a long time without saying a word, but the jeweler’s words continue.
“It would look magnificent on your wife! She will love it!”
The man finally speaks. “I already own such a necklace.”
***
After the first day at sea, it became obvious to the captain that something had gone wrong.
The crew did not complain about any illness, but they were not their usual cheerful selves. Instead of working together on the deck, they stood around quietly or went below deck to talk amongst themselves. Even the men who normally kept quiet, like the carpenter, began to raise objections. In response, he ordered extra rations to be served each night. But this made little difference.
“Something is bothering everyone,” said the captain. “We cannot hide it forever, and soon it will become obvious that we are going the wrong way.”
“No,” said the mate, who had joined him after eating lunch. “Perhaps they just miss their families.”
The captain was not convinced, although he understood why the men might feel sad. His own wife and sons were far away in New York City, where he hoped to return with enough money to buy land and start a new life.
And yet, if he told them the truth—that they were going nowhere at all, and probably heading straight into the jaws of a hurricane—they would likely blame him for their troubles and refuse to take passage on his ship again.
But he would not lie to these men and pretend that everything was all right. At least not until he knew exactly what was wrong. If he could not find out, he needed someone to tell him. That meant talking to the crew—but first, he had to see to his duties as captain.
He looked around for a seaman to relieve him so he could have a break—he felt as if he had been walking around since early morning.
As he approached the helm, he saw the second mate watching him from a nearby chair. The man seemed to have lost interest in whatever book he was reading.
“What are you doing?” asked the captain.
“Waiting for you, Captain.” The man did not even glance up from his book as he answered. “You need to know what everyone thinks.”
The captain shook his head. “This is my job. You should get some rest.”
But the man did not seem to hear him. As if he were hypnotized by the book, he stared straight ahead, seemingly oblivious to the captain’s presence. After a few moments, the captain realized there was no use arguing; the man would not stop staring at the book even if he shouted at him. So instead, he returned to the wheel.
The next day, however, when the captain arrived at the helm again, the second mate was waiting for him again.
“Why do you keep asking me questions?” the captain demanded angrily. “If I wanted to hear what you think, I would ask you yourself!”
The man did not move from his chair. “There is nothing more important than knowing what the men think of the captain,” he replied calmly.
“So you’re taking it upon yourself to act as their spokesman?”
“Of course.”
For a moment, the captain felt himself growing angry. The only reason he had asked the man to report back on what the crew was saying was that he did not want to spend his free time listening to gossip. Now the man was making it sound like his own thoughts were less worthy!
But the captain quickly calmed himself. He remembered his mother’s wise advice: always speak respectfully to those above you. Otherwise, they may decide you do not deserve your position.
Besides, the second mate seemed very serious about his task, and he had not spoken to him like that before. Besides, what other choice did the captain have? Unless the second mate found someone else to replace him as a spy, his work would fall on the captain’s shoulders alone. So he forced himself to smile and say, “Thank you. I will do what you suggest.”
At last, the captain could take a break. He leaned against the steering oar and took slow breaths, trying to calm himself. Then he opened his eyes and looked up at the sky.
The sun hung low over the horizon, casting long shadows across the water. The wind was still blowing steadily in the same direction, which was unusual—most days the wind shifted in one direction or another, sometimes quite suddenly.
“Where are we headed?” the captain wondered aloud.
A few hours earlier, his first mate had suggested they make for the Cape Verde Islands, where there was usually a good trade between Africa and Europe. But that had been hours ago—and now it seemed they were going nowhere at all.
As he pondered the problem, the captain heard a voice behind him. He turned around to see the second mate standing there.
“I spoke to most of the crew today,” he said softly. “Some think you should change the course. Others think you should continue on our original route.”
The captain nodded slowly. “Thank you,” he said, forcing himself to remain calm.
“But I also heard a couple of things about the way you speak to people—”
“Yes?”
“They said you’re very hard on them. They think that makes us too afraid to talk to you. It’s true that many men are frightened of you—especially those who were on the ship before you came here from England. And you’ve done things that made them even more nervous.”
He paused. “They don’t trust you.”
The captain stood quietly for a moment, looking into the young man’s eyes. Finally, he said, “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
The man shook his head slightly. “No sir.”
“Then why should I listen?”
The second mate stared silently into the captain’s face for a few seconds, then said, “I don’t know. Maybe… maybe it’s just my personal opinion…”
He stopped speaking but continued to look at the captain with wide eyes. When the captain did not respond, he finally turned away.
“Goodbye, Mr. Second Mate.”
The End