out of the frying pan (wolvenrogue and wingshadow)

Born and raised in Japan, Madoka came from a middle-income family in the suburbs. Often troubled with fitting in due to her introverted personality and overly cautious tendencies, she made few friends and often worried that her existence was of even less consequence than that of an annual flower. After graduating high school, things did not get much better for her as her family was generally lacking in support due to financial troubles after her father was laid off from his job. On the way back home from work after the late afternoon shift she could feel a presence behind her, but at the moment she thought she was just being paranoid... As soon as she turned the corner toward her house she discovered how wrong she had been to lower her guard.

Her mouth was covered, and then she was blindfolded, and tied, then thrown in the trunk of a car, She couldn't know, she had just been kidnapped into the Chinese prostitution trade, and would soon be on a boat headed for China and Taiwan.

As the boat stopped for supplies she saw her chance for escape, and slipping away as the drunk crew slept. not knowing where she was, and needing a safe place to sleep, she slipped into the hold of a fishing vessel and curled up to sleep. She woke the next morning to the sounds of diesel engines starting.

For Bob Mackie it was just the first day of another 2 month fishing trip. He had loaded the boat the night before, and had her rigged and ready to go. He was up early and off to the dock. he climbed aboard he boat and started her twin diesels, letting them warm up. Little did he know he had more than just cargo aboard. He cast off lines and headed out to sea.

The dim morning light peaked above the distant horizon with the gentle sound of the water lapping against the sides of the fishing boat. The pleasant hum of the engine and the repetitive motion of the boat gradually reached Madoka's consciousness, her mind still awash. She raised her left and and rubbed her cheek, vaguely remembering being struck there harshly only the day before. Shifting over to her side she propped herself up onto her side and looked up, the fragrant smell of the sea kissing her.

"I must have stumbled into another boat..." Madoka tried to recall the events of yesterday, but could only piece together small fragments, images swirled about in her head like bingo balls in a tumbler.

She pushed herself into a seated position and weakly walked toward the exit of the hold, her hands firmly grasping the handle as she opened it and peered outside. There stood before the broad ocean, with the sunbeams just starting to slice across the horizon and temporarily blinding her. Her legs gave out from under her and she landed on her rear on the deck with an audible thud. Madoka gave herself a moment to recover her composure and adjust to the light before looking up... She saw a single man at the helm.

Bob looked over his shoulders, and saw her head pop up out of the hatch then dissapear. He put the boat on auto pilot and went back and looked down the hatch. "Come out of there!" he said. H e took her hand and pulled her up and out of the hatch. He looked her over, she was a pretty girl, but what was she doing in his boat. She looked Japanese, he wondered if she spoke english.



.

"Let go!" Madoka snapped back, pulling back her hand as soon as she stood firmly on the deck, a bit surprised at her own hostility toward him. Standing in a somewhat defensive stance, she turned her right shoulder toward him while her hands were crossed protectively across her chest.

"I am sorry," she apologized sincerely.

"What are you doing here? he asked. Do you realize your stuck on this boat for two months now? I can't afford the deisel to take you back. You might as well sit down and stay out of the way, I have put out lines. Bob went down into the hold and came back with fishing gear. He paused a moment to talk with her.

Two months? She withdrew slightly to the side of the boat and cast her gaze out back toward the distant shore which was already vanishing over the earth's gentle curve. It was much too far for her to swim, even if she was a strong swimmer (which she certainly was not).

Realizing that at the moment she was completely at his disposal since she really had no place on his personal ship as an uninvited guest, and a long-term one at that it seemed. She was certainly not in a position to make a nuisance of herself or of waving around wild accusations. Even if things did start to become complicated, such as sleeping arrangements, food and water sharing, and the like, it was most definitely an improvement above and beyond what she could have expected if she had been caught and returned to the slaving ship.

She obediently sat down on the deck and looked out at the rolling waves, her face turned away from him until she noticed he had halted his work for some reason. She looked over at him, wondering what the trouble might be, but soon realizing that he probably just wanted to talk.

"I have seen the ocean before," she said softly, her voice hinted by her accent but her enunciation showing that she was quite fluent in english, "It calms me, reminds me of home. My family took me to the beach once. It was covered with sand, as far as the eye could see. No one else was there because it was late, and during the late winter months but it was something I can never forget. Its probably something I should hold dear to myself, as I will probably never see that beach again."

"I am Fujiyama Madoka," she braced herself against the side of the boat with her hand as she tried to stand, still not used to the way the boat moved under her, "but you can just call me Madoka if you like. I know foreigners are not into honorifics."

She seemed hesitant to approach him, perhaps simply due to her unstable stand, but nonetheless made a forward effort to be civil toward him.

"well Makoda, you have stowed away on a fishing boat and that is what I do, fish. You won't starve, and I'm no rapist, so what ever you were running from, your pretty safe. They won't get to you here. In the meantime, if you cook, you could help out by fixing breakfast."

"In the meantime, I've got hooks to get in the water. Welcome aboard!" Bob was thinking that where ever she came from, the company would be welcome. Two months at sea could get to you. But with someone to talk to it might be more tolerable.

Bob started setting lines, tying on hundreds of hooks and sending them over the stern on long lines.

Madoka nodded, both on confirmation of the fact of her presence on the ship as well as acknowledgment of her ability to cook. She had often prepared meals for her family back home, and it was hardly new to her... On the other hand, she doubted she could find everything she needed to prepare what she usually did, so this might be a bit of an adventure to say the least.

"Do you have a small stove or something for me to use?" she asked, trying to hide her timidness in the face of this man whose hands moved in a sort of mythical rhythm in which each action followed the last in an constant yet elegant pace. He was clearly quite skilled at his job, even though she had never actually seen a fisherman at work before.

"There's a full galley below," he said " pointing to the hatch. Their food in the refrigerator and cupboards, a stove, oven , and sink. What I need most is a good cup of coffee." Ifyou can find something just let me know. I'll be down in a few minutes as soon as I get this last set of hooks in the water.

She went down to the galley, and he finished running his last hook set then followed her down below.

Madoka was just finishing up preparing the coffee, which thankfully was of the instant variety since she had never quite managed to prepare drinkable coffee from the beans. She figured it was the least she could do by the way of offering her thanks to the man, who had yet to even tell her his name yet had ensured her safe escape, albeit unintentionally. She then turned to the refrigerator and looked over the various ingredients for some onions, spices, and sauces to prepare some grilled fish and steamed mixed vegetables for breakfast. It wasn't a western meal, for sure, but she figured since it was something she could make from what was available and that they were likely still in the East he would be fine with it.

She silently clicked on the burner atop the stove and began to heat the water in the steamer and preheated the oven to the broil setting before turning to the counter and started to dice her ingredients one by one. She worked quickly and smoothly, her skilled hands shifting from job to job like clockwork, and in a short time she set down the food down on the table before them.

"Feel free not to eat it if you don't want to," she remarked meekly before mumbling a barely audible word of thanks and beginning to dig into her breakfast in a mildly voracious manner. She had not eaten much of anything of note since the day they had kidnapped her, so she hardly thought of maintaining a strict sense of proper manners.

Robert ate the fish and found it quite delicious, though he made a note to teach her about bacon and eggs tomorrow. He noticed he eating rapidly, and guessed it had been a while since she had had anything substantial to eat. After breakfast was over and the dishes were done, Robert realized that it had also been many days since his guest had had a bath, and offered he the use of the shower. He rummaged through his clothes finally finding an old night shirt that had been worn thin, which was the only thing he had that would suit a woman. He was dressed in his usual cut-offs and no shirt which fit min perfectly in the tropical climate.

Madoka took the shirt, looking up at him a bit skeptically at his offer but she silently made her way toward the shower without protest. To be honest she thought a shower would be a wonderful thing to allow her to release some stress and wash the filth that had built up on her skin over the past few days... however long it was she couldn't quite remember. His suggestion alone reminded her of the deplorable conditions she had already endured, an experience she would willingly wipe from her memory.

She slid her clothes off and stepped inside, letting out a sharp squeak of surprise at the cold water from the head as the temperature gradually grew warmer. She helped herself to some of the body wash soap that she found inside the bathroom and lathered herself up as she enjoyed the pleasant sensation of clean water and fresh scents.

Robert finished tidying up in the kitchen as she took her shower, and once she came out dressed in the night shirt, he gave her a bucket in which to wash her clothes. It was time to pull in the lines and so as she went about scrubbing he clothing he began the task placing each fish in the cold tank. as he hauled and re-baited 500 hooks he brought in 350 fish. a successful run and he set the hooks back out again to soak.

When she had finished washing her clothes, her helped her pin them to the halliard and hoisted them up the mast into the sun and breeze to dry. While he said nothing, he found it amusing that a woman's bra and panties were flying from the mast of his boat.

"If you have something to say, then say it," Madoka puffed out her cheeks in annoyance at what she perceived as an amused expression, "Its not like I could stop them and ask them to let me pack up a few things before dragging me away."

She turned toward the sea once again, the scene which she knew she would grow accustomed to but nonetheless gave her some respite from the insecurity she felt from sitting on the deck of a ship with a shirtless man in nothing but a nightshirt to maintain her modesty. It also didn't help that her undergarments were freely swinging in the breeze in full view of said fisherman. At least he wouldn't have any fantasies on what color she was wearing...

"Could you at least tell me your name?" she asked calmly, still not turning to look at him lest he catch a hint of her discomfort. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was feeling overly shy around him or something.

"I am sorry" he said "how rude of me, my name is Bob, and if you are referring to the odd expression on my face, its nothing personal, but I never thought I'd have women's clothing flying from the mast. It just struck me as ironic since I haven't been with a woman in over 10 years." After he said it he wondered that perhaps he had said too much, but there was nothing to be done about it now. They were stuck on the boat together, for better or worse, and it was probably better if it were better. Nothing was going to seperate them for 60 days.

"Life happens, right?" Madoka genuinely smiled, but as she wasn't facing him he most likely didn't see it, "I think its highly ironic that I escaped a boat just to get stuck on another one. I am not complaining, as I would probably be somewhere in china right now being sold to some desperate chinese fellow. I couldn't ask for a better escape, but it certainly complicates things when you only have one set of clothes."

Sixty days, or nearly sixty days since the first day was already more than half past, until the fishing trip was over. Doubtless the two of them would have disagreements, fights, misunderstandings, forgiveness, the development of friendship... Perhaps even something more. These were not her current thoughts at the moment. In fact, they were most likely more along the lines of: When will my clothes be dry?

"Why the solitude? I would think fishermen would at least bring one friend along with himself to keep himself from forgetting how to talk, right?" Madoka turned around and leaned her back against the side of the ship, perhaps exposing a bit more of her body form than she had anticipated as the wind was blowing toward her at the time and conformed to her shape quite readily.

"Purely economics, anyone i had on board would want to be paid, and I can barely make enough most days at fishing to support myself. As you will see soon enough, the fishing isn't always as good as today. True enough, but you can use the nightshirt. You'll find you don't need much out here. The weather is usually great. I just have two pairs of shorts, that it. pretty much. its more than enough."

"So what did you do at home? Did you work?"

"Well, it isn't exactly proper for a lady to be running around in a nightshirt regardless of the weather, now is it?" Madoka laughed, mostly to help dispel whatever tension she still felt, "I worked several part-time jobs in an effort to make ends meet. The economy hasn't been very good for a while now, so its hard to find good work that pays well."

She turned her head to the side slightly, "How about you? I get the feeling that you did not inherit the family fishing trade."

"I do this job for love, not money. I was a 100k a year investment banker in LA with all the perks, but i didn't like what i was doing. so i came to Bali, cashed in my 401k, and bought this boat, and here i am. Pretty simple really". You know its funny, one of the best things about being out here is, that know one cares what's proper. One simply does what one must to survive. I kinda like that. That's why I laughed about your clothes.

"I'm sorry, but I find it hard to be completely comfortable around a man I just met while wearing very little, even if that man is very kind and frank with me," Madoka sighed, "I suppose that just shows a bit of how superficial I am. Considering the situation its a bit of a moot point exactly how much I wear."

"I haven't had the time for a serious relationship, to be honest," she continued, looking up at her clothes to check if they were dry yet, "How about you? Seriously you can't just fish and fish and fish the days away for two months straight, right? I'm hardly a social person, but I would probably be driven mad half way through."

" Improbable as it sounds that is what I have done the last 6 years, that and write, he said" I put down lines and then write my stories, dreams really, of what someday might be. I have hundreds of them. I'll let you read them if you wish. I write them on my old laptop. its not good for much else, but works for that. It kept me sane though. "

"What sort of dreams?" Madoka walked over next to him, clearly intrigued, "Dreams are an important part of who we as humans are. They can help us learn more about ourselves, and by sharing them we can learn a lot more about each other as well. They give us something to strive for, contend with, place our hope in. Sometimes all we ever have are dreams, but it is certainly better than nothing at all, right?"

"That's why I record them in my stories. Mostly they are about home and love and a family. Things a fisher man seldom has. But then I was serious, read about them if you wish he said, handing her the laptop. No one had ever shown an interest in him before, much less his dreams. He was surprised and flattered, that she cared.

Madoka nodded, looking through the titles at a glance at first since there were, indeed, dozens if not hundreds of them. Just by opening one of them she could see the fruits of a vivid mind, the cravings of a lonesome heart for a simple yet pleasant love and attachment. Each page emanated his fantasies of what could be, what might be, what should be. Yet, at the same time, by their very existence they expressed that such a world, such a life, did not and could not yet exist.

She looked up briefly from the computer screen, "Well, I assure you that you won't find many women if you spend all your life fishing, unless your into mermaids that is."

"What did you think of my stories" he asked her."I know you didn't read much, but you got a flavor for them. Did they change how you thought of me?" He knew but wouldn't say, that the stories were more him than what could be seen on the surface. He was almost afraid to ask her that. he had never made himself that vulnerable before. For some reason he couldn't identify he felt safe with this woman he hardly knew.