Shirley was having a fantastic month; a fact that brought her nothing but melancholy. It was a gradual development, although, in hindsight, it’s obvious when her dissatisfaction started.
“Good morning, Captain!”
“Good morning, Anne!” Shirley replies as she walks into the cafe for breakfast. It’s the start of another sunny day on her darling Mississippi Comet. Anne, dressed in her polka-dots and pink apron, holds out a tray of muffins. The Captain thanks her warmly as she takes a muffin from the tray, as she did every morning. She munches on it as she makes her rounds.
“Good morning, David! Good morning, May!”
The man and the woman sitting at the first table in the cafe smile at her. The woman is drinking her usual ice tea, and the man has his usual coffee cup in his hand.
“Good morning, Captain Villeneuve! Great to see you, lass!”
“Good morning, Captain! Finally came down for breakfast, have you?”
“Yes,” Shirley smiles, “You know I’m always late!”
“Hey, Captain! How’s your morning treating you, girl? Everything ship-shape?” Belle calls out, her yellow skirt unwrinkled and shimmering in the sun, as usual.
“Shipshape and Bristol fashion! How are you doing, ma’am?”
Zachery, the freckle-faced barista, taps Shirley’s shoulder. He smiles, “I’ll get you your Coffee, Captain?”
“Yes, Zachery, thank you so much!”
Shirley feels the influx of the ocean under her feet, the gentle back and forth lull of her boat on the waves. The first time she was on a boat, Shirley had been so seasick that she felt like her stomach was seconds away from surging out of her throat. Those moments feel so far away now.
“Good morning, Captain!” An older gentleman calls from across the cafe. He’s a chipper looking fellow, his snazzy Hawaiian shirt matching his wife’s summer dress.
“Good morning Horace! Good morning Eliza!”
“Morning, Dearie,” His wife, Eliza, smiles as she sips her raspberry tea.
Shirley stumbles when a little shadow knocks into her from behind.
“Sorry, Captain!”
Shirley turns and looks down at this adorable little boy in his adorable little sailor shirt. A little girl runs up beside him in a matching dress.
Shirley smiles down at them, “It’s okay, Buddy, accidents happen. Hello Molly!”
The little girl waves accidentally, “Morning Captain!” The then taps the little boy on the shoulder, “You’re it!”
The kids run off, resuming their game. Shirley completes his rounds and finally takes her usual seat at the back of the cafe against a large window. The view of the ocean is breathtaking.
The barista with the black lipstick delivers her coffee with a smile and an enthusiastic, “Good morning, Captain!”
Shirley replies as is expected of her, “Good morning, Jane! Thank you for my coffee, just like I like it.”
And that concludes the first part of Shirley’s morning routine. Next, she’d sit by the window and drink her coffee. She’d finish her coffee in half an hour. Then she’d leave to check on the stern wheel and refuel the boilers. Then she’ll check all the ropes, maybe do a little fishing. Then she’d break for lunch and then she’d check the wheel and the boiler once again. Then she’d nap in her quarters, maybe update the map or go for a stroll. Then she’d return to the cafe for dinner and then stargaze from her room. Finally, she’d retire to her bed and do the whole thing again in the morning.
The routine is nice. It’s dependable. There are no surprises.
And maybe that’s the problem.
Shirley takes a sip from her coffee. The cafe patrons become background noise, just meaningless rumbling. But, as was usual, something's off. Shirley idly tunes in and out of the passing conversations all around her.
“--The coffee is lovely this morning, isn’t it--”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Shirley takes a bite out of her muffin.
“--Weather is so perfect--”
She eyes her passengers. Anne looks exactly like an Anne. David looks exactly like a David.
“--Such a nice sunny day--”
The names of her passenger’s suit them too perfectly. They dress the way Shirley would think they’d ought to dress.
“--Isn’t the captain such a darling--”
She’s rarely seen them outside of the cafe. Yet, on those rare occasions when Shirley thinks in the back of her mind, “I wonder if I’ll see Belle or May while I’m out on my stroll,” they appear with their chipper smiles and dull conversation.
“--There’s isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be--”
They are there when she thinks of them, gone when she doesn’t.
“--These muffins are superb--”
Shirley takes a sip of her coffee.
“--Don’t you just love the decor--”
Shirley takes a bite out of her muffin.
“--Nothing could be better than this--”
Shirley takes a bite out of her coffee.
“--This ship is so full of life--”
Shirley takes a sip of her muffin.
“--Who wouldn’t be happy here--”
Coffee and muffins. Coffee and Muffins. Muffins. Muffins. Coffee. Muffins. Coffee and muffins. Muffins and coffee. Muffins and Muffins and Coffee and Coffee and Muffins and Coffee and Muffee and Coffins and Coffee and Muffins and Cuffins and Moffee and Coffee and Cuffee and Moffins and Coffee and Muffins and Coffins.
She’s done.
“You’re done your breakfast, Captain?” Who says this? Does it even matter?
Shirley gets up from her chair by the window. The reflection of the sun on the ocean waves is too white. The cafe is a silent cacophony of noise.
Shirley smiles, “Yes, I’m done.”
~*~
Five days later and Shirley doesn’t get up for breakfast. Anne knocks on her cabin door and the captain tells her she’s not feeling well. She’ll come out for lunch or dinner. Shirley doesn’t leave her room the entire day. She doesn’t leave her room for an entire week. She becomes hungry, thirsty, and lonely. Eventually, those feelings, like everything else, fade away.
She’s sat in the most uncomfortable corner of her cabin, in between her big fluffy bed and her floor lamp. The shades are closed. The door is locked. She has a leaning mirror in her room that’s taller than she is. Two days into her self-imposed exile, Yu had appeared in the mirror. Its overly concerned worrying had gnawed at Shirley’s last nerve even as the Captain deflected its questions with a docile smile. After Shirley managed to shoe Yu away, she flipped the mirror around. She didn’t like how her reflection spied on her, even when it wasn’t Yu looking back.
That night, she goes for a walk. The stars reflect off the ocean waves, an aurora of droplets that makes it impossible to distinguish the sky from the earth. Shirley leaves her captain hat in her room. The wind is cool.
Shirley wonders, “Is it cold because I want it to be or because it is? Would it matter either way?”
She leans against the railing on the hurricane deck. The view is perfect.
“Why am I here?” She thinks, fingers tapping a meaningless beat on the metal, “How do I even exist? I don’t remember when my life started. I barely remember what happened yesterday. Maybe yesterday didn’t even happen. Why am I able to question my own existence? What’s the point?”
Her steamboat crosses the ocean so slowly, Shirley can hardly tell if it’s moving. Although the view if perfect, it's also so far away. She jumps from the hurricane deck down to the bow. Normally, a fall from such a height would have broken her legs at the very least. When Shirley lands the ground feels soft as a pile of feathery pillows. It’s so aggravating.
Shirley takes a seat on the hull. She’s close enough to the water that she can feel its spray on her cheeks. In hindsight, sitting so close to the water might have been a mistake. Her reflection shifts and Shirley nearly groans when Yu appears in the dark, starlit water.
“Hello, Shirley!”
“Hello, Yu!”
“How are you?”
“I’m good! How are you?”
“I’m fantastic!”
Conversation dries up quickly despite Yu’s attempts. The Mississippi Comet continues its course, although the Captain is no more sure of its destination that anyone else.
Shirley stands, “Well, it was nice talking to you, but it’s getting pretty late. I think I’ll retire for the night.”
Yu smiles, “Sleep well!”
She wants to glare. Instead, Shirley smiles.
~*~
The next night, the sea and the stars are the same. Shirley’s reflection wobbles as Yu takes over.
“Hello, Shirley!”
“Hello, Yu!”
“How are you?”
“I’m good!”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?”
~*~
The next night.
“Hello!”
“Hello!”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Nice night for a walk, you know?”
“Yes, it is!”
~*~
The night after that. Before Yu even fully manifests, Shirley speaks.
“Hello, Yu! Isn’t it a nice night? I’m feeling pretty good, how are you?”
“Shirley.”
“Hmm?”
“Why are you out here?”
“I don’t know,” Shirley’s smile is wide and her eyes are narrowed, “Why am I here?”