Sophia Stanford, class of 2029
They called him Helen, as if all his life he'd never been married nor intimidating enough for a last name, or a man's first name. I, however, was a stranger to him, and he, to I. Helen was a good man; he paid his dues on time and was a father to a 5-year-old boy. He was a boatman and sold his krill at markets; he did honest work. However, when I followed him out to the canal off the coast of Meek that night, I did it with much fear. I watched as he came upon the canal, dressed in Sunday's clothing. He stood at the edge of the dock, lifting his lantern above his head so it illuminated his entire body.
I was across the street, so I couldn't hear the words when he began speaking. Helen stood, his lantern held high; he muttered words, inaudible to me. He swung his lantern 3 times, and slowly, a rowboat appeared through the fog. I stumbled backward, tripping over cans on the ground. The sound cut through the silent darkness. I saw a beam of light shift over to my hiding place. It stayed for a moment, the flames trembling, casting eerie shadows up the alley, before moving away. That was when I peeked back, just barely. I could not let Helen see me, for I was a stranger to him, and he to I. By the time I looked back, the rowboat had gotten closer, coming upon the pier. Aboard the ship was a woman, dressed in a pale green gown that fell above her knees, the woman herself was pale, sickly. Her face was slim, her features sunken, but she was beautiful nevertheless. Helen handed his palm out to the woman, she took it and stepped onto the dock.
“Cynthia!” Helen said, wrapping both his hands around one of hers. I recoiled back, I knew he had a wife, everyone did, but it felt odd meeting her again, especially like this. The woman reached up and touched Helen's face. It made my stomach churn. He pulled her into an embrace.
“I told you I'd come back,” Helen said.
“I know, but it's been so long.” Said the woman, loosening her grasp on Helen's back.
I watched as they chatted about one thing or another. The more I watched, the prouder I felt of the two of us. We had truly developed the perfect plan; no one even knew we knew each other. He was a boatman. I sold tickets for the docks entrance, helping young couples and renting boats. If I were to ever accidentally speak to him, we could pass it off as being acquaintances, “I simply sell him tickets to enter the docks, that's all!” Those fools would believe it, too. Our situation had been deplorable, really, you couldn't blame us. He was young and desperate for love when he met her. He immediately bought an elixir to ensure their relationship. The vendor had told him it was risky, he had! He said their bond would “be one even unto death.” If only we had known he spoke so literally. He loved her for a bit, many years, they had a child, but they had never married. When Cynthia and Helen were young, their love was reckless, but when they finally settled down, now with stable jobs and a child, Helen became bored.
I was hired at the docks three years ago. The last man who worked the box had quit, he said the job was too boring, and the sound of the waves had gotten infuriating. That was when I took his place. Helen had come that very day. He was a chatty man and could strike up a conversation with anyone, a trait I found very admirable.
We had kept it a secret for over a year, he would say he's out boating, at 4 pm, when I got out of work, he'd make it home for dinner by 7. It truly was the perfect plan, I didn't mind. The potion Helen bought only grew stronger, still. When Helen found out his wife was carrying their second child, Helen erupted. He decided that very day to put an end to it all. He came with his wife to the docks. I sold them one ticket, saying it was free admission for women; they rented a boat and set sail into the water. When Helen came back, he was alone. We had truly developed the perfect plan. When word spread about Cynthia, Helen played the role perfectly. “Cynthia, that imbecile had snuck out into the canal, she fell into the water, it was so dark, and she can't swim!” He'd say.
I watched as he spoke to her.
“Tell me again, how you tried to save me.” She lay her head against his chest, brushing his arm with her hand.
“Well, when you fell, I tried to pull you up by your hair, but your foot was caught.” He said.
“Oh! That's right, you're so strong, my love, I wish I could remember.”
“Yes, well, you have to believe me, I'm the only one you can believe." He took her hands and held them, dangling at their sides. I watched with no jealousy or hatred. I'd only have to wait a few more months, then he'd be all mine. He wouldn't talk to Cynthia anymore, not call her over with his lantern. He promised we'd search for the vendor, get his revenge, and make him change things back. But for now, I couldn't let myself be caught, for I was a stranger to Helen, and he, to I. At least, that's what they all thought.