Harbored Silver

14 May 2021

I could feel a sturdy hand press against the small of my back, sending shockwaves like fire spreading underneath my skin. His calm breath slow and collected against the even cooler night breeze. The rocking of the boat tipped and turned the already blurry specks of light that made up the skyline of New York’s busy epicenter. I clutched the handrail, ignoring the pocks of goosebumps rising and falling along my skin—not just from the cold.

“I suppose I should retire for the night,” he starts, releasing his hand from me, “I suggest you soon do the same, Cecilia.”

The air is quick to swallow up what was once covered by the heat of his hand, and I am left in shivers, regretting the choice of a backless outfit, “Why so soon?”

“There is unfinished business to attend to.” His response is short and almost practiced.

“What unfinished business?” I turned to face him, leaning against the handrail with all but grace as I realized how cold it against my bare back, then settled for a more demanding pose. The lights of the cabin shining through the doorway obscures his expression as they envelope only his backside.

“Nothing that concerns you, dear, I assure you.” He turned to the side, revealing the soft expression on his face as he watched my endeavor, then went on, “If it so bothers you to know then, by all means, let your curiosity wander, but there is no place for women in politics.” He lifted a glass of sparkling champagne from a nearby table and brought it to his lips to take a sip. If he was at all shocked by how cold it likely had become due to the current temperature outside, he did well to hide it.

“Politics? And what politics could possibly come of a game of cards and gin, Oliver?”

“How many times do I have to say it?”

A grimace twisted my lips as he stepped forward, glass in hand, then he pressed a firm kiss against my forehead. “I will join you by midnight.”

~

The clock ticked menacingly against the wall, mimicking only the rhythmic sway of the boat. All was quiet until a scuffle broke out on deck. Since I was a single level beneath the floor, the steps were rather rampant against the ceiling I slept under, and it kept me from ignoring it any longer.

I gathered up my night skirts and snatched a jacket from the gilded hook on the door. I groggily jammed my feet into my slippers, then shuffled up the stairs and into the night air once again. I was no doubt tired from being disturbed so suddenly, but I was not mistaken when I knew who was doing the scuffling.

‘Oh bother, not again.’

The two men, Oliver and another man I likely saw earlier but paid no mind to, clearly drunk of their minds, were tangled in each other’s arms with fistfuls of hair and coats, trying to pull the other over the handrail and into the chilled water. They mumbled inaudible swears at each other, tussling as the two of them fell to the wooden deck floor.

“Would the two of you cut it out already!?” I rammed between the two of them and separated their clawing hands from each other. A hand flew lazily past my ear, but another grabbed onto my forearm with a hard grip. I jerked around to make eye contact with the owner, only to find Oliver making fully sober eye contact with me.

“Oliver!” was unfortunately the only think I could think to say before another lazy blow landed against my temple. I fell back, but Oliver’s grip held me steady.

“Go downstairs and retrieve the key I stowed in my dresser drawer underneath the Holy Bible,”

The gears in my mind began turning. I had a strange feeling that this was not at all about politics… He paused to land another blow on the man’s face, likely bored from inactivity on Oliver’s part, then continued “Once you have the key, go to the back hallway behind the mirror. There will be a safe embedded in the wall. Unlock it and throw its contents into the bay.”

“But Oliver-”

“Cecilia, just do it!”