I’m not proficient concerning the ways of the sea or about ships. This series is completely written for fun and for you all to read and enjoy. Sorry to all those who are in love with 19th-century ships.
Also, this story does contain small amounts of violence, so if that is a concern, please read at your own discretion.
You ready for a high seas adventure?
Will thrust the shirt into his bag; he didn’t have time to fold it. Time was ticking away, and if he didn’t hurry, someone would catch him. They wanted to keep him here. Force him to live a life of dull boredom. He wouldn’t stand for it. Not anymore.
Sixteen. He was ready to see the world. Ready to be his own man.
Will bent over his bed and contorted his pillows into a rough outline of himself. He yanked the quilt up over the twisted shapes.
He laced up his boots and pulled his jacket on. The air was chilly tonight and he couldn’t afford to catch a cold. There was too much to do. He touched a hand to his waist, feeling the thick wad of money he had taken from his father’s safe. Sweet revenge. This money would give him a new start and land a devastating blow to his father’s savings.
A noise downstairs made Will free. He waited, listening. Nothing.
Relieved, Will grabbed the handles of his carpetbag and eased his bedroom door open. He would’ve gone out the window if the drop to the ground hadn’t been so high.
The hinges didn’t squeak. He had made sure of that by taking some butter from the kitchen and greasing the metal. The kitchen maid would be furious when she found her butter missing. Will could only grin. Served her right for always tattling on him.
The last stair step creaked a bit, but Will didn’t mind. He was downstairs. Several more feet and he’d be out the front door.
A flicker of light danced across the floor. Will pushed himself against the wall, hiding in the shadows.
The light was coming from underneath his father’s study door. Was he still awake at this time of night?
Will crept to the sold oak door. Voices. His father and mother.
“I don’t know what to do, Margaret. At every turn, he becomes more and more rebellious. Why can’t he—” Will heard his father’s voice waver.
“Joseph, shh—It’s alright my love.”
There was the soft sound of his father clearing his throat. “Why can’t he see that these friends, these things he persists in doing, can only harm him?” Will’s father let out a chuckle. “I tempted to tie him up and keep him home.”
“You can’t do that, Joe.”
“I know. How can I make him see that our rules are more than just the strict hand of an overprotective father? We already lost one son. I can’t lose another.”
Sorry, guys! I have to go eat dinner. Does this story interest you?