Doctrine and Rescind
No longer on her little boat, Bethany found herself in a tiny cabin, with a porthole to her right. The sea air drifted in. For a second she thought she was at home, in her own bed, with wind whispering through the trees.
There were no sounds to distract her. The sun beamed through the window in an effort to wake her up. Her eyes wide open now, she looks at the cross hanging on the wall. Whoever saved her is a doctrine to religion, but she rescinded that belief many years ago.
Her mother never believed in a higher power. Nature was the only doctrine she held in esteem. Whoever saved her, obviously holds religion in the same way.
The door creaks open, and his shadow looms in the doorway. As he gets closer I can see the cross around his neck. He doesn’t look like your traditional priest. In his early thirties, he has a trustworthy face.
‘You’re awake, that’s good’ he said. ‘Do you want someone to bring you any thing to eat, or drink?’
‘Where am I?’ I ask, glad I’m still wearing what I wore in my little boat.
‘The Angel of Mercy,’ he said.
‘Am I dead?’
‘No, we are a small company of men and women, who travel the globe to pass on our love.’
Not sure how he would react to having a pirate’s daughter on their ship she thought carefully of what to say next. ‘Thank you for saving me,’ she said.