The sail flapped in the breeze, on the cusp of filling, and the ship moved lazily through the water. The sound of the ropes creaking reminded James of his grandmother’s rocking chair. She used to rock him to sleep after his mother died, before he was too big to sit in her lap. He yawned at the memory.
He remembered when he told his grandmother he was taking to sea. She cried, rocking back and forth in her chair. All he could do was stand there, looking at her, and holding his bag. He still had the bag down below.