Cordelia

Binter never understood inlanders, who would want to hoof it hither and tither over hill and dale when one could float?

Float, like a leaf on the wind. Float, as if through time and space. Float, as she was now, the luke-warm waves caressing her voluptuous form.

Wave after wave rolled into the shore, devouring seashells and tiny crabs as they scuttled to and fro.

Binter floated, her long curly locks floating out in a halo over her head twining with the water, catching stray bits of sea weed. Small fish tipped the ends of her hair curious and unafraid.

Her cheeks brimmed just above the water. Lips soft, like rose-hip velvet, parted to catch small, tender breaths of the salty, humid air.

Taking a deep breath, she rose forward letting the water cascade back from her scalp.

Opening emerald green eyes, that shone brightly against her swarthy skin; Binter certainly looked a child of the sea.

Pelicans rode the warm gusts of wind over head as she tread water. Her garments wafted about her; hugging her close one moment and flaring delicately in the wake the next.

The breeze tickled a pattern across the waves, leading her gaze to the fluke of a whale as it slapped the surface.

Ships rode in sittin low in the waters with their heavy cargo.

Certainly, she never could quite understand landlubbers. How could she when the sea brought a swell to heart and grin to her face? Pure freedom and adventure awaited her out the there. She just knew it.

Each day she waited, her Papa had promised. Promised his next adventure she’d be by his side, riding the gales on the deck of a ship. Gazing at the stars high in the heavens from the middle of the ocean.

So she tread water, both physically and mentally. Waiting for Papa’s ship to roll in.

She would know it when she saw it, Papa always stood out with his bright crimson sails. “ ‘I want them to see me coming!’” he would wink roguishly at her when she asked why no one else had such vibrant sails.

True, her papa was less than honorable in the eyes of the government officials that patrolled these waters. But that mattered little to her and certainly not at all to her papa.

Swimming back to the shore, Binter made her way home where she could smell her mommas cooking. Surely from the aroma, some form of gumbo sat simmering in the pot and fresh baked flat cakes waited to be dunked in savory deliciousness.

Today was a special day, today was her sixteenth namesake day. As momma put it, she was a flowered young woman.

Not only was today her birthday, but today carried a special promise from her Papa. He promised to take her with him once she had turned sixteen. Papa never broke a promise. Never.

Aerwyna, Binter’s mother, was found in the back garden pulling weeds.

Binter tiptoed quietly, intending to scare her mother. Her mother turned nonchalantly, “Cordelia, dinner es ready grab youssef a bowl.”

“Ma! Don’t call me that!!!” Squeaked Binter.

“And why no? Das you name isn’t it?” Asked her mother.

“Papa never calls me that!” Stated Binter firmly.

“Oy! Okay okay Binter, Binter, boyant sprinter!” Teased her mother.

“Maaaaaahhhuuugghh!” Whined Binter

Rolling her eyes, her mother spooned her a bowl of gumbo and pecked Binter’s cheek as she passed to the table.

“How did you know I was behind you?” Asked Binter.

“Motha’s know eveyting Cordelia.” Said Aerwyna matter of factly. “Eat.”

After dinner, Cordelia (Binter) sat on the sand gazing at the horizon. It was getting late and despite herself Binter was starting to worry. She hadn’t spotted Papa’s ship yet.

Papa had taken to the sea months ago but promised to return on her birthday. Her day was almost over. Papa had promised. Where was he?

The sun set lower, each minute seemed to go too fast and yet too slow all at the same time. Raising her fingers, Binter counted the time left she had for this day. One hour.

Binter hung her head low, praying to the gods that Papa would make it before sundown.

The waves lapped against the shore, hushing the night into being.

Forelornly, a single tear started to roll down her cheek. Papa wasn’t going to make it. Hugging her knees she let the sadness consume her.

Why hadn’t Papa come? Was he ok? Where was he? Papa never broke a promise.

Burying her face, she went deeper into despair.

The breeze swayed her long curly hair two and fro as she sobbed.

A hand gently cupped her chin, lifting her face to the darkening sky as the sun set it’s belly in the waters.

Eyes still closed Binter, sniffing, stammered, “Papa didn’t ma....maaake it!”

A shushing noise greeted her ears and she slowly opened her tear drowned eyes.

Big, deep, brown, eyes looked down at her twinkling, “Shhh my Cordelia, why are you crying?” Said a rich, husky, warm voice. A voice, Binter hadn’t heard in months.

“Papa!!!” Binter screamed, jumping up from the sand, wrapping her arms around his neck, crying tears of joy.

“Ah my Cordelia, you didn’t think I would forget my own daughters birthday did you?” Sighed Papa.

“But I didn’t see your ship on the horizon Papa. I watched for it all day.”

Laughing Papa squeezed his little girl. “Ah yes, I saw you floating in the water earlier but I didn’t want to spoil the surprise my dear. So I waited to come see you.”

“You have a surprise for me?” Asked Binter, wiping away her tears and stepping back to look at her Papa.

Pointing to the sunset, Papa showed Binter a silhouette of a ship riding the waves at anchor.

“Papa, that is not your ship, it is too small. And no red sails!”

“You’re correct Cordelia, that is not my ship, that is why you did not see me sail in. That; is your ship.” Beamed Papa.

“My.....ship???” Whispered Binter. “Oh Papa is it really??!” She swayed, dazed.

Leaping about she whooped and thrust her fists at the sky in elation. Then quite suddenly she stopped. “Why are you calling me Cordelia? You always call me Binter!”

Papa smiled, “Because my little one, you are now truly a daughter of the sea. That is your namesake. As such, nicknames find no place for a young captain with such a namesake. Captain Cordelia.”

“Oh Papa!!” Squealed Cordelia.

“Come, let us go see your mother. I missed my wife.” Papa steered Cordelia from the sandy surf to the house. All the while Cordelia gazed hungrily at the gift Papa brought her.

No, Cordelia would never understand landlubbers. Not when she felt the way she did as she gazed at her ship riding the horizon.