Thor stood, shirtless, leaning on the rail of The Alexandria. The wind filled the sails, gently caressing his face and tanned, toned body. His long auburn hair—tied at the back of his neck—streamed out behind him. Thor breathed deeply and took in the salty aroma of the sea. The swells caused the ship to rise and fall as the wind propelled it through the waves. Whitecaps could be seen in the distance. With such a fair breeze they would make good time.
He laughed to himself. How different from his first days aboard the ship. Then he had stood at the rail, not to take in the beauty of the ocean, but to relieve himself of the contents of his stomach. The three years he had been at sea had brought about many changes. He had come aboard as a gangly sixteen year old—assigned as cabin boy to serve the needs of Captain Allison. Now he was a seaman. His body, while still that of a youth, was filled out and toned by the hard task of working in the rigging. While still wiry, his muscular arms, chest, and flat rippled stomach were those of a man.
As the ship ploughed its way through the rolling waters, he thought back to the day he found out a life at sea was to be his destiny.
* * * *
Theodore sat alone in the hallway outside the dark oak double doors that led to the headmaster’s office. He remembered sitting in that chair many times, waiting for those doors to open, and to be invited in. He remembered, too, a time when, as he sat on the tall backed chairs, his feet did not touch the floor, and he had swung them idly back and forth to pass the time as he waited. That day, however, his feet were touching the discolored, old carpet. He was grown.
As he sat, watching the dust float in the shafts of pale sunlight that came through the dirty windows, framed with their heavy, faded, forest green velvet drapes, he knew why he was there. Two days before he had had his sixteenth birthday—well, the date that had been chosen as his birthday. He did not know when his actual birthday was. Few of the orphans at the home knew the true date of their appearance in the world. His birthday had become the day he had been delivered to St. Bartholomew’s Home for Orphaned Boys by a justice of the peace, wrapped in a dirty blanket.
He sat in the chair, now of age. A little more than a year earlier, his closest friend, Seth, had come of age. Seth had been called to the headmaster’s office. Two days later he had left the home, having been secured a situation with a textile merchant as an apprentice. Theodore was then on his own: Seth had been his only close friend. He had missed Seth terribly—missed the time spent together discussing the world outside the walls of the home, and what they would do when they were beyond them. He had missed the times of special closeness the two had spent in the dark of night when they thought the other boys were asleep.
Soon the doors to the headmaster’s study would open, and he would discover where he would go to begin life as an adult. He wondered what situation had been procured for him. He hoped it would be something similar to that which had been found for Seth, perhaps even in the same workplace. He often allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to be reunited with the lad with whom he had discovered the pleasures a boy’s body could experience. Even now, years later, he still enjoyed those thoughts, although he knew that the chances of ever seeing Seth again were well-nigh impossible.
Seth had told Theodore to trust he would stay in contact after he left. Then Theodore might have been able to find him when it came his turn. However, Seth had never written. That had disappointed Theodore. They had been close, very close. Theodore shut his mind to that hurt.
When the doors opened, a shudder of apprehension swept through Theodore’s body. He stood.
“Come in, Theodore.” The kind voice of Reverend Perkins came through the dusty air. “I have some exciting plans to discuss with you.”
Theodore walked toward the tall man who had taken care of him since the day of his arrival at the home. As he passed through the doors, he stopped and looked up into the man’s face. He searched the eyes of the headmaster to see if there were any hint of sadness that this day had come. He found only the gentleness that had always been there.