The Cove

Eric had been fishing in the northern Pacific for 3 months. As they pulled into port, the first thing he thought of was a hearty meal and a cold beer. The crew began prepping to dock, tying the ship, rolling out the gangway, and packing their things. As he grabbed his belongings, he thought a shower would be a better first step. All his clothes smelled like the must of old seawater and fish. He lugged his things off the boat and across the street to the inn that would be his home for the next week. The port town was well accustomed to receiving sailors and fisherman in mass waves and had plenty of room available for them. The front desk lady was lovely, a kind woman with soft yellow curls. She sent each man to his room in no time, not even wrinkling her face at the smell.

“And here’s your room key, Mr. Johnson. You’ll be over on the left, third door on your right,” she chirped with a pink-lipped smile.

“Thank you,” Eric said, careful not to touch her manicured fingers as he grabbed his key. He did not mistake her kindness for anything more than pure professionalism. This was obviously not her first season.

Eric’s room was quaint but very comfortable. The twin sized bed would be just big enough, but he could make it work. He threw his duffle bag on top of the fresh bed sheets and rummaged through his things. He found one nicer button down shirt smashed at the bottom of his things and some khakis with minimal stains. He laid them out, trying to smooth out some of the winkles. Next he drew out his toothbrush and a small toothpaste, both loose in the front pocket. Eric opened the door leading to the bathroom. There were two white towels stacked on the sink.

Eric sent up a prayer that the water would be hot. Most port inns were older, which gave them more charm but less reliable plumbing systems. After a few minutes, steam began billowing from the shower. He got to work scrubbing off three month’s worth of grime and salt. He gave his stubbly chin a quick shave, cursing a bit when he nicked underneath the left side of his jaw.

When he was finished, Eric observed himself in the bathroom mirror. He gave himself a nod, deciding he cleaned up pretty well. After dressing and putting on sandals, the only other shoes he packed besides his work boots, he headed back out to the lobby.

A few of his crewmates were huddled around the front desk, also dressed in their finest button downs or T-shirts. The woman at the front desk was nodding emphatically at their stories, pretending to be interested. They waved Eric over when they saw him down the hall.

“Hey, Johnson! Jeanine here was saying The Cove is the place to be,” Thomas called.

“Sounds good to me, man. I’m starving,” Eric said.

“It’s just a few blocks down the road on the right. It’ll be just past the church.” Jeanine supplied. “The beer is cheap and there’s live music tonight.”

All the guys leaned forward as she talked. Even Eric felt himself holding his breath. He shook it off, obviously it had been a while since they had been around a woman for longer than a few minutes.

“Don’t need to tell us twice. Thanks,” Eric said.

“My pleasure,” Jeanine purred, her eyes heavily lidded.

Eric grabbed his friends by the shoulders and steered them away, trying to keep them out of trouble. They made jokes and laughed about finally seeing something other than scruffy faces and endless ocean.

The Cove was bustling. The massive wood building had a mermaid perched on top of the sign and a mast sticking skyward from the top. The pirate ship theme continued on the inside with little port hole windows and parrot-themed merchandise. The hostess greeted them and sat the four of them immediately. As they sat, they saw more and more of their crew mates begin to pile into the restaurant. It seemed Jeanine gave everyone the same recommendation.

Eric ordered a beer with a plate of chicken wings. He couldn’t stand the thought of eating more fish at the moment. The beers came out quickly and soon the guys were tapping their glasses in cheers and taking full gulps. The hoppy taste settled in Eric’s mouth and fizzed in his stomach. A few tables ahead of them sat a stage. It looked like it was a solo female singer judging by the sign: “Melina will be back in 5!”.

Eric and his friends ordered another round of beers while they waited. He glanced around, noticing the place was overrun by sailors and fisherman. A few tables had groups of local women but they appeared to be wrapping up their meals. Eric hoped this place wasn’t a tourist trap, but at least the prices were reasonable. As their food arrived, the crackling music over the speakers silenced and a young woman walked out onto the stage.

She was a tall woman with long dark hair and a purple sequin dress that caught the multicolored stage lights. The dress hugged her generous soft curves, drawing the attention of the entire restaurant. She began her set with no introduction. She was a lovely singer, but there was a weird metallic ting to her voice, as if the sound system was auto tuning her. It struck him as odd because it didn’t seem like she needed editing.

The woman onstage was quickly forgotten as the men ate. With full bellies and beer still flowing, the volume of conversation began to kick up. Men were daring each other to chug beers down, laughing bawdily, and singing sailor tunes. Eric’s own face began to flush as he swallowed more beer down. Every once in a while, he’d glance back up at the stage. Melina continued to sing through her set, unbothered by being drown out in the ruckus. Eric got up, stumbling a bit as the alcohol coursed through him.

“Where ya going, Johnson?” Thomas slurred from next to him.

“I gotta piss. I’ll be right back,” Eric said. He stumbled across the restaurant to the men’s bathroom. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears now that the noise was muffled. The small men’s room spun a bit as he made his way to the empty urinals. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this drunk.

As he was doing his business, he heard the sound from outside stop abruptly. A muffled singing penetrated the silence. Did the speakers blow? Eric wondered faintly how Melina got the whole restaurant to quiet down enough to be heard. Eric’s head continued to spin and his eyes felt heavy. How many beers had he had? Not more than five. This town must have stronger alcohol; he shouldn’t be this wasted. His mind felt fuzzy.

Eric sat down on the cold bathroom tiles, trying to right himself. Through the fogginess of his brain, the soft melodic voice lulled him to sleep.

Eric woke with a start, leaning against the bathroom wall. His head was pounding, sending flashes of light behind his eyes. He groaned as he stood up, legs still feeling weak. It barely registered that the restaurant was now completely silent. Eric pushed through the door, walking into a completely empty, dark restaurant. He heard rustling on stage. Probably from Melina packing up her microphone and speakers. Her head flicked up, her dark eyes glinting in the dark narrowed on him. Eric flushed with embarrassment.

“Sorry, I think I passed out for a few minutes. Is there somewhere I can pay,” he said fumbling through his pockets for his wallet. He found some cash he kept for emergencies in the middle fold. Thomas would never let him live this shit down. It made it worse that the beautiful singer was still here. He would rather an angry manager. He squinted up at the stage, barely making out Melina’s form in the dark stage.

“It’s on the house,”Melina replied, not moving from the shadows. Her voice was flat.

“Uh, thanks. Sorry, I’ll see myself out.”

Eric focused on putting one foot in front of the other. A few locals were out in their nightly walks, but he didn’t catch sight of his crew. They probably forgot about him in favor of the local bar that was open late. What assholes.

Eric could hear the rustling of wings above him. In the sliver of the waning moonlight, he could make out a pair of large wings, headed out toward the sea. God, what bird was that large? It looked like a 20 foot wingspan from here.

The little bell on the inn door startled Jeanine as Eric shuffled in. Jeanine’s sultry smile was gone, her back stiff. He mumbled goodnight to her, hoping to avoid more embarrassment for one night. Eric face planted on the twin bed. He kicked his duffle bag onto the floor and started drifting to sleep, still dressed in his clothes. He tossed and turned, the sound of wings beating found him in his sleep.

A strip of sunlight snuck through the cracks of the thin blinds, waking Eric not long after sunrise. The hotel was still quiet. He doubted the other men would be very lively before noon today. His head still thrummed as the residual alcohol coursed through him. Eric decided he would lay off drinking until the next port.  His stomach rumbled, forcing him from his room, still dressed in the clothes from the night before.

He made his way to the front desk to ask Jeanine if there was a breakfast spot close by. But as he approached, she stared at him as if he’d grown a second head in the night. Her eyes were wide and lips drawn in a tight frown. Instead, he gave her a wave and headed outside to find his own way. He ran through the previous night in his head. It was a little fuzzy, but he didn’t remember saying anything odd or insulting to her. Maybe he should apologize just to be safe.

Eric noticed his feet were taking him back to The Cove. Might as well see if they served breakfast. His point drew into a disappointed frown as he passed by the restaurant, still locked up tight and devoid of life.

Eric continued right into downtown, away from the glittering ocean. He eventually came across a small restaurant with some people eating outside. The smell of bacon and fresh coffee was enough for him. He took a seat at the bar next to an older gentleman, doing a crossword over his scrambled eggs. Eric ordered a black coffee and looked over the thick menu booklet.

“The Sunrise Slam is really good,” the old man said next to him.

“Sounds good to me,” he said and put his order in with the waiter.

“You a sailor?” The man asked, peering over his reading glasses.

“Is it that obvious,” Eric chuckled.

The old man chuckled. “Nah, we get a lot of them here. Don’t see too many of them for breakfast, though. They usually only stay the night.” He took another bite of his steaming eggs and glanced back down at his crossword.

“Probably don’t see ‘em because they’re causing too much trouble the night before,” Eric snickered.

The waiter set down his plates piled with eggs, bacon, hash browns, and pancakes. He stuffed his face, eyes focused on his heaping plates. The man next to him circled another word on his puzzle and thanked the waiter as he filled his mug with more coffee.

“Just make sure you keep an eye on them. The women here are nothing but trouble,” he said, pointing his glasses at Eric.

“Aren’t they all?”

“Maybe. But especially here,” the man warned.

“I’ll do my best to keep them in line,” Eric assured him. Eric finished his meal, finally feeling the pounding in his head subside. With renewed clarity, he began walking aimlessly around downtown. The sun climbed high into the sky as he walked.

Eric found it odd he hadn’t run into at least one of his crew mates. At least some of them should be trickling out to find food by now. The man’s warning sat uneasily with the breakfast in his stomach. Suddenly feeling worried, he went back to the inn. Jeanine looked back to normal, her lips spread in a wide smile when he came in.

“Have you seen any of the men,” he asked her.

She thought for a moment and shook her head. “No, I haven’t seen them, but they came in quite late last night. I’ll tell them you’re looking for them,” she said placing a hand over his comfortingly. A wave of relief flashed over Eric and he felt himself nodding.

“Thanks,” he said. With a full belly and nothing else to do, Eric took a nap. It was dusk when he woke again. He must still be shaking off all the alcohol. He changed before heading out this time. He banged on the door beside his.

“Hey, assholes! Get the fuck up,” he said growing aggravated. First they left him at the restaurant last night and now they were too drunk to function. He ran down the hall, pounding on every door as he passed. None of them opened.

He stormed to the lobby where Jeanine was helping a couple with their room. Eric waited behind them, tapping a foot to burn some of his energy. When she was finished, she turned to him, tossing her golden hair.

“Hello, Mr. Johnson. I just was about to tell you, I saw a few of your friends heading back to The Cove. I think they said something about wanting to see Melina perform again,” she said with a wink.

Of course. Not even a full day docked and they were already thinking with the wrong head. Eric said his thanks and wove deliberately through the crowds toward The Cove.

Tonight, The Cove was empty. Only a few tables were taken. None of which were occupied by his crew. He peered around the place, catching the attention of a hostess. She was the same one as last night.

“Can I help you with something, sir?”

“Have you seen the people I was here with last night?” Eric asked, still peering over her shoulder as if they would appear.

Her smile wavered. “No, but they might still show. Why don’t I put you at a table and you can order while you wait for them?”

Something in Eric’s mind was telling him to turn around and go search for them, but a calm settled over him. They would turn up. He followed the waitress, who sat him directly in front of the stage tonight.

Melina came on again, tonight dressed in a dazzling emerald green. She seemed to freeze as her eyes locked on him. Eric felt like he should shrink away as she looked down at him from the stage, but she was so beautiful. She was almost hard to look at now that he was so close to her. Melina did her same set as last night. Her voice was still a little tinny and robotic, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He soon forgot about his crew as she swayed back and forth as she sang softly.

Tonight she only sang one set and packed up early. Once she disappeared behind the stage, it was as if the spell had been broken. Eric glanced around, still not seeing his friends. Feeling pulled, he got up from his chair and walked to the back of the restaurant, following after Melina.

He came to a side door that led to an alley between the restaurant and the church. It was a new moon tonight, making it hard to see. Still, Eric saw a shadow moving in the dark.

“Excuse me,” Eric called.

The shadow stopped. He could barely make out the whites of Melina’s eyes in the dark. He heard the rustling of her clothes as she turned around.

“You need to leave immediately,” she hissed.

He took a step back. He noticed her silhouette looked off. Her shoulders looked a lot wider.

“I don’t want to bother you. I’m just looking for my crew.” He choked out.

“Never come back to this city,” she said lowly. Her form stretched and shifted in the dark. Eric was hit by a blast of wind as she took off into the air, flying toward the sea. Eric did not move for some time. After a minute, he walked to the docks. Without bothering to go back to the inn for his duffle bag, he fumbled with the ropes tying the fishing vessel to the dock. He sailed off on an empty boat to the next city.