I turned and watched him jog up the same corridor Polo and I had just come from. Charlie looked frayed as he rushed to get to the deck, his eyes eagerly searching for something he couldn’t see. He ruffled a hand through his hair and swore, kicked a lifeboat, and placed his hands on his knees for leverage. All the while I watched him from behind a large pillar on the side of the…main part of the ship? I told myself I would truly have to learn some terminology before I left.
He walked toward the edge of the deck and took hold of the rail. I had to carefully scoot around to the other side of the pillar to prevent him from seeing me. And while I very much wanted to see him up close, it was more fun to see him this way, and without question more interesting. He was like some rare and wonderful creature, and I was privileged to have the opportunity to observe him.
Staring at the sea, he closed his eyes and mumbled something under his breath, though what it was I never knew. He was wearing the same fuel-stained jeans from the day before but had on a fresh navy blue t-shirt with a cut that showed not only the lean muscles in his arms, but also the serpent tattooed on his neck. For a moment I stared at it and it almost seemed to stare back at me. I made myself wave the notion away—everything about Charlie had a life of its own.
He took out a cigarette from his pocket and put it to his mouth but then stopped to reconsider. He looked at it for a minute, frowned, and threw it into the sea. I bit my lip to keep from smiling and thought that I might jump out and try to sneak up on him. Suddenly, however, he became possessed with the frenzy of a madman as he began hitting the railing with a pounding fist. Simultaneously, he kicked the side panels, and a growl emitted from the depths of his chest, though these were difficult to hear through the slur of profanities that erupted from his mouth.
Finally he let loose a scream into the ocean.
I was unable to stand it any longer. Seeing him so unmistakably miserable brought tears to my eyes and I knew whatever was disturbing him so incessantly had to end before my heart collapsed on itself.
“Charlie?”
He stopped instantly. It was actually so abrupt that I thought he might have hurt himself. He remained so completely motionless that it only increased my fear. I ran up behind him and placed my hand on his shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
When he turned to me his face was red and his eyes bugging. He looked me up and down. He seemed confused, almost disorientated; it did nothing to alleviate my worry.
“Addie.” His mouth moved to say something else, but the words didn’t come.
I smiled, although it was more from nerves than anything else. “That’s my name, don’t wear it out?”
His expression became detached with a thin outline of anger he was trying very hard to suppress. “What happened to you?”
I tried to decipher his frenzy, but nothing came to me. I knew I needed to tread around any potential answer carefully. If I said the wrong thing, would he have another tantrum? Would he hurt someone, or himself?
“I, um…went for some air and ran into Polo. I helped him in the galley and he gave me a tour of the engine room.”
He looked back to the sea, his jaw stiffened. “I told you to stay in the cabin.”
Was this the reason he was so upset, because I hadn’t followed an instruction? I felt my own glimmer of anger rise within me. He had no right to dictate my movements even if he had saved my life.
“Hey! I’m not your property. If I want to go out and explore, that’s my prerogative. Curiosity is one of the most natural human instincts…”
“You got any idea what coulda happened out here? How a lotta the guys out here think?” He shouted it more at the ocean than me, but it scared me enough that I kept my mouth shut. Once more I could hear his accent coming through—revealing he was genuinely upset. It seemed like such a silly thing to get so worked up over. But I understood he was worried, anxious that something bad might happen to me.