My Lady's Dogger

Cicelia Perry slowly opened her eyes and for a moment was afraid to move. She was covered in several layers of heavy blankets. The air smelled like the ocean, like fish. She realized a moment later, that she was completely naked beneath the scratchy woolen blankets. And she was uncertain where she was, or how she got there. She could hear the distant voices of men. There were coils of heavy rope on the wooden floor, and on the wall, a calendar with a picture of a woman in a skimpy bikini and she had on big yellow rubber boots, and was holding a fishing rod from which dangled a large fat silvery fish. She remembered she had been on a cruise ship. It was something she had planned well in advance. She had left behind a life that had been ruined by a cruel twist of fate, and the never-ending gossip that went round and round in circles in her hometown. How she had killed her husband. And why. Even after she had been acquitted by a jury, and declared innocent of any wrong-doing, they talked about the bloody knife. How she was found clutching it, and standing over her husband's dead body. They talked about how she had planned it. And how her husband was such a good man. And how he didn't have an enemy in the world. Except her. It was all lies. But they ruined any possibility of remaining in her home, or even in that town. She hadn't killed her husband, but she had thought about it more than once. She didn't know who did it, but they were likely evening a score. He was a man of questionable conscience. A person who used others, even betrayed them; had even betrayed her more than once.

She heard heavy steps coming down the stairs. A man in a wet black raincoat and black boots appeared over her. "Are you comin' around, missy?" he said, bending over to look at her, as she peered out from underneath the blankets. "Where am I?" she said in a timid voice. "Well, right now, you are safe and sound on 'My Lady's Dogger', that's my outrigger."he said, running his hand through his wet hair, as he took a seat on a wooden crate across from her. "What am I doing here? How did I get here? Where are my clothes?" "Well, young lady, yer mighty lucky to be alive. You musta fallen overboard, you got all tangled up in one of my nets. Were you on one of them cruise ships?" "Mm hmm'" she nodded. "Where are my clothes?" she said, looking around the dimly lit room. "We hung 'em up in the boiler room, that's where we hang a lot of our wet gear. It's hot in there. You sure gave us a scare. When we pulled you out, you was as blue as a Marlin. I thought you was dead, for sure. But Jimmy, my first mate, he worked on you, and, by golly, you came around, spitting up a gallon of sea water! Anyways, you've been down here under the wheel house, sleepin' it off for about four hours now. I'm gonna fix you up a nice hot ginger tea. You'll be feelin' better in no time." He got up and disappeared into the galley. Cecilia pulled the blankets up tight around her. Her desperate attempt to end her life had failed miserably.

He returned smiling, with a steaming cup of tea. "Ready to sit up?" he said. She sat up, pulling the blanket around her and took the cup in her hands. "What kind of fish do you catch?" she asked. He returned to his seat on the wooden crate. "Not fish, really. We trawl for shrimp. But, today it seems you were definitely the catch of the day. So what is your name, anyway?" "Cecilia," she said, sipping her tea. "But, everybody calls me Sissy." "Well, sissy, we are two days out, but once we get to port, I'll help you be on your way home again. My name is Johnny, but everybody calls me Cap'n. Where is your home anyway?" he asked. "I don't really want to talk about it. It is some little awful nowhere place in Mississippi. I don't wish to ever go back there again."

As the conversation continued, she finally told him about her husband's murder, and the trial. And she told him she hadn't fallen off the cruise ship. She had jumped. "Sissy" he said. "You've got more life to live, that's clear to me. You should be dead now, but you're not. Does that tell you something?" She nodded soberly. "Yes, it tells me something, but I'm not sure what."

Two days later, they made port in Veracruz along the Bay of Compeche on the coast of Mexico. Cap'n Johnny had a small house there, and she lived with him. He was a good man. She took some satisfaction in learning that the man who killed her husband had been caught. She had been vindicated, at last. But, she would never go back now. She had two little ones pulling on her dress. And sometimes, when she cradles them in her arms, she does feel the importance of the life she has yet to live. Feels it even more than ever before, and cries tears of knowing happiness. As for the people back in her hometown, the gossip is now about how they knew she was innocent all along. In a year or two, a few might realize their complicity in driving Sissy away. Of almost driving her to insanity, of almost leading her to the edge of death. Most, won't. In any case, Sissy doesn't care. Paradoxically, their cruelty ultimately led her to real love.