The Dreamer Read Online Free PDF

it.”
    “I came in after you were asleep. I left before you awoke.”
    I watched him, my hands on either side of me as I perched on the edge of his small bed. “You are ….” I struggled for a word.
    “What?”
    I usually didn’t have to struggle to find the right words. “Perceptive. Sacrificing,” I finished, and then added with a soft, embarrassed laugh, “and yet that’s not it.”
    I fingered the material of my nightdress, my nails short, my fingers unadorned. I reached up and brushed a lock of hair away from my face.
    “You are a good man, Captain.”
    He turned to me in surprise.
    I frowned. “Is that the wrong term? The words are simple enough. Did it not translate?”
    He shook his head impatiently and answered, “Of course I understood you.”
    “Then what is the confusion?”
    He muttered, “You are the strangest woman I’ve ever met. Everything a normal woman would do, you do the opposite. It makes you completely unpredictable and confusing and … dangerous.”
    I shifted as though to rise. But I settled back into my seat, unsure of what to do. I continued to watch the captain.
    I cannot describe the strange sensation that fluttered within me as I sat on the edge of my bed watching him. Something was different, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was. But I felt my relationship with the captain was somehow starting anew.
    But I felt less confident, less self assured. I didn’t know why. For the first time, I wanted to talk to him, to discover him, not just for educational reasons, but for personal ones, too. But I didn’t know quite how to do it. Interviewing came to me easily. Surely conversing wasn’t much different.
    I was quiet for a moment. “I envy you.”
    “Why?”
    “Because you belong here. You’re a perfect fit for your circumstances.”
    He didn’t answer me, though he made a sound between amusement and disagreement.
    “You have this ship ….”
    “This ship,” he scoffed.
    My eyes went to him in surprise. “Aren’t you a success, then?”
    “Yes,” he told me, the single word sounding a little hard.
    “How successful are you?”
    “I am one of the leading mariners in Europe.” It would have sounded boastful if there had been any pleasure in the words.
    “How did you get your start?”
    “It was the sea that chose me, Miss Madera,” he tersely answered. “Not the other way around. And what about you?”
    I realized he was changing the subject, but I let him. “Me? What do you mean?”
    “What is your life like?”
    “I have my work.”
    “Work?”
    “Yes. I teach. I open eyes and minds to new … possibilities.”
    He looked surprised. “Is that what women do in the Americas?”
    “Why shouldn’t it be?”
    “What about family?”
    I grew thoughtful again, looking past him into the darkness. “I’m no different than a man. Family and friends are unimportant to me,” I answered firmly. “Those things distract from one’s work. I never found it worthwhile to cultivate those aspects of the human experience.”
    “Cultivate those aspects of the …. You speak like you’re from another world,” he answered crossly. “And I wonder why you didn’t stay there, as satisfied as you were. A woman does not belong on a ship. Do you believe me now? You are all alone and unprotected.”
    I became very still.
    Those were the last words spoken for the night. He turned to his side and fell asleep, though I stayed awake and troubled for a long time. On a different scale, I felt much like I did after I had my dream and lost my life’s work. It was torn from me, and I didn’t belong anywhere anymore. I thought … I was so sure that I finally had a place, a purpose. And no reason, no study, nothing seemed to give me the answer now.
    *** *** ***
    I awoke and carefully stretched, testing the wound at my side. I gingerly touched it with my fingers, though I didn’t look at it. I did not want to know what it looked like, even though it might have been