Part I
Marica listened to the rush of the ocean as the bow of the ship cut it’s way through the night sea. Above her, the cloudless night showed even the faintest stars against the velvety black. Her naked body tingled with the occasional misting of ocean spray, as she lay there, lashed to the prow. Numbness had taken over and she no longer felt the stiffness in her limbs from being bound. She lay on her back at the very nose of the sailing vessel on an overturned crate, either wrist tied to the railing and her knees pulled up and apart, also tied to the railing behind her. A dull ache throbbed between her legs to remind her of what all had happened to her that day, and as she gazed up at the deep night sky she thought about how different today was from all of her yesterdays.
As she had the last three mornings, Marica woke at dawn as the sailors on deck above her were relieving those on duty through the night. Only a single portal existed to let the morning light in to the cargo hold she shared with her family. Her mother and father were always already awake and only her younger sister and baby brother could sleep through the yelling and laughter between the crew. Her father, Petre, lit a small lamp and shed light on their surroundings. Crates of various goods, bolts of fabric and barrels of wine and ale filled the hold, leaving cramped quarters for her family. Though it was cramped, it was no worse than the way they were living before, and if they could endure it all those years then they could endure it for three more weeks. Then, they would be in America! New York city, to be precise. Marica had always wanted to see New York.
Marica had been eight years old when her father began saving everything he could in the hopes of someday moving his whole family to America. Her mother mended clothes in their home to help support them while they saved. After three years of working multiple jobs her father had saved just enough to book passage for himself. He had heard that there was work to be had in America on a railroad. Knowing that he would never be able to save enough to move them with what he was making, her father left them to try to get work there. For nearly six years he labored in the worker’s camps on the Trans-Continental Railroad. He saved everything he earned during that time, as the railroad provided his meals and gave him a spot in a sleeping tent.
Finally, Petre Kuskin had more money saved than he had earned in his entire life. But, was it enough to give his family a new life? He had decided it was time to try. Returning home, he told them all about America and they delighted in his stories. For months he made preparations, earning as much money as he could while he looked for passage on a ship that he could afford. Marica’s mother, Mirela, gave birth to her baby brother while they waited for their opportunity, making it even more difficult.
One day her father came home and announced he had them booked on a cargo ship that would be in France in a few weeks. None of them cared that they were not going to America in a luxurious passenger ship. They were all going together, and that was all that mattered.
They arrived in France the day before the ship was to set sail, but there was a problem. The harbormaster informed them the ship had been delayed, and was at least a week behind schedule. Her father was forced to use some of the money he had for their passage to feed them for eight days until the ship finally arrived. Then he had to beg the captain to accept a reduced price, as he no longer had the agreed upon amount. The captain was a tall man, though not lanky, and he dressed more like a gentleman than a captain of a cargo ship. Her father had stood there pleading with the captain, for the sake of his family, as the captain remained silent. Finally, the captain looked at each of them in turn, paused a moment on Marica then said, “We leave in three days after we have taken on our cargo. You may stay in the hold until then.”
They had stayed out of the way as cargo was offloaded and freight bound for various points was put on. Finally, the departure date arrived and they set sail. With a couple of stops before reaching New York, the journey was to take three weeks. Marica’s mother struggled with sea sickness at first, but the rest of them were fine, passing the time in the dark cargo hold by playing games and singing songs. For three days that was all the adventure they had.
Around mid-afternoon of their fourth day at sea the door to the aft cargo hold opened and three crewmen stepped inside. One, the largest of the three, was the ship’s first mate. He was a homely man, with an unkempt beard and a large hoop earring in one ear. A missing tooth showed in his smile as he spoke. “Good day, sir. I hope you are comfortable…”
Marica’s family, all but the baby, stood before the trio of sailors. Her mother put her arms around the two sisters as their father replied. “The accommodations are fine. There is not much space, but we will make do.”
“Interestingly enough,” the first mate said, walking forward to stand right in front of them, “that is precisely why we are here, to help with your over-crowding problem.”
Petre began then to fear the men’s intent. “How is that, sir?”
“By giving one of you other accommodations.” He was still looking directly at her father when his hand snaked out, grabbed Marica by the wrist and yanked her from them. With one pull he sent her stumbling behind him into the arms of one of the two crewmen.
Her father yelled and leapt forward, but was met by the other sailor, who suddenly had a wickedly curved dagger in his hand. The seasoned crewman cracked Petre across the face with the heavy pommel of the knife, and then quickly reversed it, putting the point at her father’s throat.
“You cannot do this!” Her father yelled. “We are paying passengers! I demand to speak to the captain!”
“But you did not pay the fully agreed upon price did you? You actually paid for passage for four, but you are five. The captain sent us down here, and will not see you, peasant.” The first mate grinned as he spoke, obviously enjoying himself.
Marica’s mother, crying, stepped forward and wailed, “Do not take my daughter! I know what it is you want. Take me instead, but I beg of you, leave her be!”
The first mate had laughed out loud at that, and then looked her mother up and down. “Why, madam, would we want a saggy, worn out old cunt like you, when we can have that if we prefer?” He turned, indicating Marica. The crewman that held her reached one hand around her and gave her breast a vicious squeeze, pinching her nipple hard. Marica gasped and tried to pull away while the sailors just laughed.
Her father’s anger raged and he stood facing the first mate. “Release her now! I am warning you…”
At this the first mate immediately became a blur of motion. Quick as a jungle cat, a sun-leathered hand found a grip around her father’s neck and drove backwards. After three steps, the pair reached the wall and Petre was slammed hard against it, the first mate’s knife having appeared from nowhere to press against his ribs. The bearded man leaned forward and in an anger filled voice he growled.
“No, peasant, I am warning you. You have another daughter to think about. Pray we do not get bored with this one, or we may reduce your number to cover the deficit in your account!”
Marica saw her father look at her, still rubbing her now tender breast, a tear trailing down her face. She watched as he finally slumped in acquiescence, unable to help her.
Her mother cried out as the first mate released her father saying, “Wise move. Do not worry, me and the boys will teach her much!”
