Heart of the Sea
Two
Every now and again, Quinn would randomly get seasick. He came from generations of fishermen and had been raised on a fishing boat, but sometimes he still got a little queasy from the rocking. He was sitting on the edge of the boat, feet dangling over the side and forehead resting against the deck rails.
"Don't tell me you're about to puke, kid."
Quinn lifted his head to look over his shoulder at his partner, Kent. Kent was an older man and a friend of Quinn's father, and Quinn had been working with him on his fishing boat since his father passed away. He started when he was only sixteen, and they were nearing on ten years of business together now. Kent was like a second father to him.
Quinn sat up and shook his head.
"No, of course not," he said. "I'm just a little nauseous."
"Seas are choppy today," Kent agreed. "It looks like that storm hasn't given up yet."
The storm had barely passed when Kent showed up at Quinn's door and told him it was time for them to get back to work. The fish market didn't wait for storms, and every day wasted was money wasted. There were still clouds and a light drizzle.
"The quicker we finish what we need to do, the sooner you get to go home," Kent said. "Get up. Come on, now."
Quinn sighed and took Kent's arm when the man offered to help him up. They did their rounds, pulling heavy nets of fish out of the sea and packing them up for sale in the marketplace. They were paid for their daily work, and Kent handed off Quinn's share for the day. They started very early in the mornings when the water was calmer, so it was only mid afternoon when Quinn was able to go home and flop back into bed.
He didn't get a chance to rest much before a fat orange tabby jumped down from his dresser and onto his back. He groaned and pushed the cat off, who mewed in protest.
"I just want a moment of peace," he begged. "Just five minutes. Please, Tubbs?"
Tubbs had absolutely no sympathy for him and was aggressively kneading with an expectant look on his face. Quinn sighed and stood up, taking a fish out of the icebox and chopping it up into Tubbs' food bowl. Only Tubbs really ate fish in the house. Honestly, Quinn couldn't stomach it anymore. After spending his whole life around them, the fishy taste and smell got old. He usually made a point to make sure he didn't smell like fish, and his sandy blonde hair didn't actually have sand in it.
Instead, he took a slice of bread and spread some jam on it to snack on while he went out onto his balcony. His house was nothing remarkable and far from town, but it was set on the edge of a cliff and had a nice view of the ocean with easy access to the beach below. It wasn't a clean sort of beach that people liked to picnic on, but Quinn liked taking walks down there sometimes.
As he looked out on the beach and the waves licking the shore, he noticed a red stain in the water. He frowned and tried to find the source of the redness, and nearly choked when he saw there was a bloodied person on the shore. He quickly put on his coat and ran out, taking the stairs two at a time to get down to the beach. He came to a halt when he saw the source of the blood.
There was a woman laying there looking pale and unconcious. And very naked. Quinn's automatically assumed the worst, but there was no evidence she had been attacked by another person. She looked more like she had washed up after the storm. Maybe from some sort of wreck. A memory suddenly flashed across his mind and his blood turned to ice.
Quincey, look! I found a seashell!
He shook the high pitched voice from his mind and focused on the task at hand. He hesitated since she was naked, but he couldn't leave her there. She was badly hurt. Instead he took off his coat and wrapped it around her, then carried her back up the stairs to his house.
Tubbs curiously followed him as he layed the woman down on his own bed and brushed her hair from her face. She was alive, but probably very lucky to be alive. He looked down at the orange tabby and chewed on his lip.
"It's okay to touch a naked woman without her permission if I'm patching up a wound, right?" he asked. "If I'm respectful about it?"
Tubbs licked his paw nonchalantly. Quinn moved to the dresser and took out one of his own shirts. It was like a dress on the woman, but he gently put it on her to cover her up. Then he took out a small medicine kit and started work on cleaning and bandaging her gashes. One of the bigger wounds needed stitches, which Quinn had only ever done on himself. He was careful to keep his stitches neat and tidy without hurting the woman. He was worried he'd accidentally pull too tight and hurt her more.
Once he was satisfied with the wounds, he let out a relieved sigh. Hopefully when she woke up, she wouldn't be horrified with where she had ended up. At least then he'd be able to ask where she came from and maybe help her get home.
He ushered Tubbs out of the bedroom so he wouldn't other her and downstairs. Oftentimes he slept in boats. Sleeping on the couch wasn't too bad.
"Don't tell me you're about to puke, kid."
Quinn lifted his head to look over his shoulder at his partner, Kent. Kent was an older man and a friend of Quinn's father, and Quinn had been working with him on his fishing boat since his father passed away. He started when he was only sixteen, and they were nearing on ten years of business together now. Kent was like a second father to him.
Quinn sat up and shook his head.
"No, of course not," he said. "I'm just a little nauseous."
"Seas are choppy today," Kent agreed. "It looks like that storm hasn't given up yet."
The storm had barely passed when Kent showed up at Quinn's door and told him it was time for them to get back to work. The fish market didn't wait for storms, and every day wasted was money wasted. There were still clouds and a light drizzle.
"The quicker we finish what we need to do, the sooner you get to go home," Kent said. "Get up. Come on, now."
Quinn sighed and took Kent's arm when the man offered to help him up. They did their rounds, pulling heavy nets of fish out of the sea and packing them up for sale in the marketplace. They were paid for their daily work, and Kent handed off Quinn's share for the day. They started very early in the mornings when the water was calmer, so it was only mid afternoon when Quinn was able to go home and flop back into bed.
He didn't get a chance to rest much before a fat orange tabby jumped down from his dresser and onto his back. He groaned and pushed the cat off, who mewed in protest.
"I just want a moment of peace," he begged. "Just five minutes. Please, Tubbs?"
Tubbs had absolutely no sympathy for him and was aggressively kneading with an expectant look on his face. Quinn sighed and stood up, taking a fish out of the icebox and chopping it up into Tubbs' food bowl. Only Tubbs really ate fish in the house. Honestly, Quinn couldn't stomach it anymore. After spending his whole life around them, the fishy taste and smell got old. He usually made a point to make sure he didn't smell like fish, and his sandy blonde hair didn't actually have sand in it.
Instead, he took a slice of bread and spread some jam on it to snack on while he went out onto his balcony. His house was nothing remarkable and far from town, but it was set on the edge of a cliff and had a nice view of the ocean with easy access to the beach below. It wasn't a clean sort of beach that people liked to picnic on, but Quinn liked taking walks down there sometimes.
As he looked out on the beach and the waves licking the shore, he noticed a red stain in the water. He frowned and tried to find the source of the redness, and nearly choked when he saw there was a bloodied person on the shore. He quickly put on his coat and ran out, taking the stairs two at a time to get down to the beach. He came to a halt when he saw the source of the blood.
There was a woman laying there looking pale and unconcious. And very naked. Quinn's automatically assumed the worst, but there was no evidence she had been attacked by another person. She looked more like she had washed up after the storm. Maybe from some sort of wreck. A memory suddenly flashed across his mind and his blood turned to ice.
Quincey, look! I found a seashell!
He shook the high pitched voice from his mind and focused on the task at hand. He hesitated since she was naked, but he couldn't leave her there. She was badly hurt. Instead he took off his coat and wrapped it around her, then carried her back up the stairs to his house.
Tubbs curiously followed him as he layed the woman down on his own bed and brushed her hair from her face. She was alive, but probably very lucky to be alive. He looked down at the orange tabby and chewed on his lip.
"It's okay to touch a naked woman without her permission if I'm patching up a wound, right?" he asked. "If I'm respectful about it?"
Tubbs licked his paw nonchalantly. Quinn moved to the dresser and took out one of his own shirts. It was like a dress on the woman, but he gently put it on her to cover her up. Then he took out a small medicine kit and started work on cleaning and bandaging her gashes. One of the bigger wounds needed stitches, which Quinn had only ever done on himself. He was careful to keep his stitches neat and tidy without hurting the woman. He was worried he'd accidentally pull too tight and hurt her more.
Once he was satisfied with the wounds, he let out a relieved sigh. Hopefully when she woke up, she wouldn't be horrified with where she had ended up. At least then he'd be able to ask where she came from and maybe help her get home.
He ushered Tubbs out of the bedroom so he wouldn't other her and downstairs. Oftentimes he slept in boats. Sleeping on the couch wasn't too bad.