Wilhelm Englehorn was a callous man. Not one for caring, nor romantic words. He was a ship captain who captured wild animals and sold them to zoos or scientists for a bit of money to fund their next voyage.

He had never gotten along with relationships, as he found work on the sea when he was fifteen and found it difficult to stay on land. He had one failed marriage when he was twenty, with a woman named Emma back in Germany. The relationship only lasted a few months before he was drawn back to the sea and left her screaming at him and throwing pots at him from the doorway of their apartment. The divorce came through and last he heard she had remarried and now had eleven children. There was one other women, named Maria, who he known for his whole life and she was quite taken with him. He would reconnect with her every few years when he would visit his ailing parents in their small hometown in Germany. Maria would always be there, leaning against the neighboring doorway where she lived with her parents. Her smile was wide for him, every time. He knew if he asked to marry her, she would say yes, but he was used to his life on the sea and was not ready to give that up. Maria eventually went on to get married to some important military man, and he has not heard from her since. From then on, the only romantic encounters he had were with some street hooker from the cities they occasionally docked in. He rarely met those women again. Aside from one.

His hard life was his and he enjoyed it. It was 1931, and they had just docked in New York. He had a shipment of two tigers to deliver to the New York zoo. He was leaning against the deck, waiting for the slime ball owner to come waltzing up, drunk, and want to see his shipment. Wilhelm hated the man but he paid, which is hard to find these days thanks to the depression. Hayes comes up, his dark eyes scanning the New York dockside, finally spotting the main they're waiting for. The fat, fifty year old rolls out of his car, stumbling up to the ramp. Hayes rolls his eyes and groans.

"I can't stand that man," he says quietly and Englehorn nods in agreement, rubbing his eyes with his grubby hand.

"Can you deal with him? I did it last time." Englehorn asks his first mate. Hayes huffs and rolls his eyes before nodding.

"Are you staying on the ship?" Hayes asks as he turns, getting ready to go and collect the drunk man who has just fallen face first on the desk. Englehorn shakes his head and pulls on his long trench coat.

"I'm going for a few hours. I'll be back later." Englehorn informs his first mate, who is not surprised at his captain's absence.

Despite his string of bad romances, there was one women who Englehorn found himself going back to; again and again. Rose Davis was a twenty four year old prostitute, who works in a ringer house amongst other women. Rose wasn't proud of her profession, but she had no choice in the great depression. Her job provides her with a house, a way to keep clean and fed, and sometimes she only needs to meet men about three times a week. Rose offers to clean the house for her Madam, who is happy to allow Rose to clean so she doesn't need to hire a maid and this way Rose earns her keep without needing to constantly being with the men that come strutting to their door. It will keep her off the streets for at least a year, which is better than most people. She met Englehorn three years ago, before she ever worked at the house. That was when she was on the streets, trying not to die from starvation. Wilhelm walked past her and stopped when he saw her, curled up in a jagged jacket, shivering violently. Wilhelm paid her, and brought her back to the ship. Instead of a quick night like he planned, he found himself drawn to the young girl. She wasn't soft and quiet voiced, she had a loud laugh and smoked constantly and knew a lot about the world for someone so young. Anytime he is back in New York, he always returns to find her. Occasionally, he receives some badly written letters from her, riddled with grammar mistakes, but he cherishes them.

It doesn't take him long to reach the address she wrote in her most recent letter. He walks into the house and is greeted by a large woman, who has thin eyebrows and ruby red lips. Her wig is curled and weaved with broaches, while she is stuffed into a dress a size too small which pushes up her ample breasts.

"Why, hello. What can I help you with?" she purrs, as she takes a draw from her cigarette. Her green eyes run up and down his ragged frame. Before he can say a word, the sound of footsteps fill the room.

"He's mine, Madam." Rose says as she walks to Wilhelm, taking his hand. The large women nods and turns her attention to another man who just walked in, lust in his eyes.

Rose leads Wilhelm to her room, which is decorated with red and pink roses, befittingly. There is a silk bed in the corner, and a soft yellow lamp illuminates the room. Wilhelm crosses the room and drops in the bed, sighing. His body is exhausted and he is eager to rest. But, Rose manages to get his attention back- as always. She was only wearing a long, sheer black robe. Under it, she only had thigh high black lace stockings. She slowly unties the rob and lets it slip off her body and land in a pile at her feet. The sight of her makes him aroused almost instantly.

"Oh, Rose." He sighs and shuts his eyes as the young woman saunters over, sitting on the bed and running her hand through his hair. Her thick black hair is pulled into a tidy chignon, with a silver flower hair pin holding it up.

"Have you missed me?" she whispers, leaning forward and letting her lips ghost over his.

"You know the answer." He responds and opens his eyes, taking in the sight of her. She grins and kisses him softly.

Being with Rose offers him a sweet escape, and he is addicted to the feeling. Rose sits up, reaching into the pocket of his pants and pulling out his packet of cigarettes. She places two in her mouth, before striking a match and lighting them both up. She reaches up and plucks one from her mouth and places it in his awaiting lips. She lies down opposite him, slowly taking drags of the herb cigarette. He's always been fond of those.

"How long are you staying in New York?" she asks, blowing smoke in his direction.

He shakes his head and takes the cigarette out of his mouth, doing the same with the smoke. "Just the night, we'll set sail tomorrow afternoon."

She stomps out her cigarette in the ashtray and sits up again, leaning forward so she is hovering over his body. "Well, that's only a short time. I'll make sure you remember it though." She says, smiling and running her hands over his body, beginning to unbutton his shirt.

---

He sighs as his fingers graze over her shoulders. She's asleep, and he is tempted to not wake her. She looks so innocent when she's asleep. He can't resist kissing her one last time before standing up and collecting his clothes from the floor.

Her eyes flicker open and she props her head up on her hand. "Must you go?" she whines, her mouth turning into a frown. He takes a cigarette out of his pack, lighting it and taking a long draw before handing it to her.

"You know I have to." He responds as he finishes dressing. It's still dark out, only 5am according to her clock, but he needs to return and make sure the shipment was safely removed.

"When will you be back?" she asks him and stands up, walking over and wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his chest.

"Do not know. Take care of yourself." He tells her, not wanting to prolong their goodbye. She has never cried at their goodbyes, but he doesn't enjoy it. He kisses her on the head and quickly exits the room, leaving her standing by the bed, smoking his cigarette.

"Bye, Will." She mumbles. She does not like goodbyes either, and she often wonders which goodbye will be their last.