The Poem in the Fog

Chapter 1: The Tube in the Bladderwrack

At dusk on the lighthouse rocks, ⟨Character 1⟩ counts ships with her brass abacus while ⟨Character 3⟩ chalks stars and ⟨Character 2⟩ ties up his boat; then ⟨Character 1⟩ discovers a waxed leather tube in the bladderwrack.

⟨Character 1⟩: One, two, three. That is the last ship into the harbor, a little fishing boat with a red sail. The fog is rolling in from the point, but my count is perfect. Seven ships today, and not one missed. I hope the fog does not swallow the lighthouse beam tonight.

⟨Character 2⟩: I tied the boat and brought warm rolls from the bakery, ⟨Character 3⟩. They are still hot from the oven, with butter melting into the cracks. The fog can try to swallow your count, ⟨Character 1⟩, but it will never manage. Your abacus clicks too loudly for any fog to hide a ship from you, and I can smell the sea salt on the wind.

⟨Character 3⟩: I am drawing tide-line stars on the stones, one for each ship you counted. Some are small, like the herring boats, and some are big, like the three-masted schooner. I like this old tune I am humming, the one I heard in the harbor when the wind is low. Do you hear it, and look, there is something caught in that tangle of bladderwrack by the barnacled stone.

⟨Character 1⟩: A waxed leather tube, wedged under the stone. Inside is a poem titled “The Sea’s Lullaby.” It is signed by the queen. The silver ink is still bright with a little crown pressed into the wax seal, and she wrote this herself, maybe on a night when she could not sleep.

⟨Character 2⟩: The queen wrote a poem? Maybe she forgot she wrote it, because it has been lost out here on the rocks for so long. We should return it to her at the morning festival. I can steer us across the bay, and my boat is steady enough for the three of us.

⟨Character 3⟩: Can I keep it safe until morning? I will tuck it into my apron pocket, right next to my chalk. I will not lose it, and I will hum its tune to keep it warm. The tune in the poem might match the one I have been humming all along, but I cannot say for sure until I read the words.

⟨Character 1⟩: Yes, ⟨Character 3⟩, you keep it safe. ⟨Character 2⟩, at first light we row to the palace. We will give the queen her poem back, and she will be glad to have it again. I will count the bell buoys on the way, so we do not go off course.

Chapter 2: The Fog and the Queen

At the harbor mouth, ⟨Character 2⟩ unties the boat and refuses ⟨Character 1⟩’s offer to help as fog rolls in like damp wool.

⟨Character 2⟩: I can steer alone. I know this channel by feel, even in fog. But keep your abacus ready, because I would rather have your count than a bump on a hidden rock.

⟨Character 1⟩: I will count the bell buoys anyway. One, two, three. The fog is thick, so I will close my eyes and listen for the clang. ⟨Character 3⟩, keep humming that tune, it helps me keep time.

⟨Character 3⟩: I chalk a wavy map on the bench so we can see the channel. ⟨Character 2⟩, what is an ember? I saw that word in the poem last night, and it sounds warm and small.

⟨Character 2⟩: An ember is the tiny orange heart of a fire that keeps warm after the flames go down. The lighthouse lamp holds one every night, and it glows like a small sun made of coal, steady even when the fog tries to smother it.

⟨Character 1⟩: ⟨Character 2⟩, the reef is close. I hear the bell bounce off the rocks in a double echo. Steer toward the second bell, then straight until the third. Trust my ears this once, and I will trust your hands.

⟨Character 2⟩: I feel the scrape. You are right, ⟨Character 1⟩, I was too proud to share the wheel. Call the course, and I will steer exactly where you say. Together we will get this boat to the palace without another scratch.

⟨Character 1⟩: Your Majesty, we found your lost poem in the bladderwrack near the lighthouse rocks. It is titled The Sea’s Lullaby, and your name is written on the wax seal.

queen: I never wrote a poem. My hands have not held a pen since I was small, and I would remember every word if I had set it down.

⟨Character 3⟩: Do you know this tune, Your Majesty? I hummed it before we ever opened the tube, and now the silver ink begins to glow like an ember, just as ⟨Character 2⟩ said.

queen: That tune is like one I dreamed as a girl, when I sat on the lighthouse steps and listened to the sea. But I did not write it down, I only sang it in my sleep.

⟨Character 1⟩: Let me read the poem aloud, and we can check the handwriting. Your Majesty, the ink is glowing brighter now, and the words are your own.

The queen whispers that she did write it, and ⟨Character 1⟩ returns the poem to her.

Chapter 3: The Queen’s Lullaby Returns

queen: I remember now. I wrote this when I was twelve, on the lighthouse steps, and I used a bit of charcoal to sketch the tune before I copied it in silver ink. The sea was loud that year, and I learned to listen to it instead of shouting back, so the words came like a melody in my own voice.

⟨Character 1⟩: I discovered this poem caught in the bladderwrack at the base of the lighthouse wall, wedged so tightly under a barnacled stone that I had to work it free with both hands. I return it to you now, Your Majesty, because a poem you wrote belongs with you, and I am glad we could bring it home.

queen: Listening is a way of loving someone. You listened to the sea when you counted the buoys, and to ⟨Character 3⟩ when she hummed, and you even listened to my forgetting until it broke open. Thank you, ⟨Character 1⟩. You have given me back a piece of my girlhood, and I will keep this poem on my music stand where it can be read every night.

⟨Character 3⟩: I have to tell you my secret, and I hope you will not be cross. I found the tube three days ago on the rocks, but I was too shy to bring it to you alone because I have never met a queen. So I left it near the lighthouse where I knew ⟨Character 1⟩ would find it, because she counts every stone and every scrap of wrack, and she would never miss a waxed tube.

⟨Character 1⟩: I guessed that, ⟨Character 3⟩. You hummed the tune before we ever opened the tube, so I knew you had read the words, and I saw the chalk on your apron from where you had drawn little stars around the hiding place. But I am glad you hid it where I would discover it, because it meant we could return it together, and that makes the discovery better.

queen: Then this poem has been passed from your hands to mine, and that is a fine journey for a little lullaby. Keep the tune alive in the harbor, all three of you, and teach it to the gulls if they will listen. Now go safely home before the dark, and let the lighthouse beam guide you back to the point.

As they walk down to ⟨Character 2⟩’s boat, the fog has lifted, ⟨Character 3⟩ falls asleep curled against ⟨Character 1⟩, and the lighthouse beam glows steady as an ember.