L. Meyer - Bloody Jack - Being an Account of the Curious Adventures of Mary Jacky Faber, Ship's Boy

Two days ago I started to bleed. Down there.

It's lucky I had me drawers on or I'd been discovered right then for sure, taken to the doctor and found out, and then put off on shore amongst the Arabs, to die without a friend. At least here I'll die among me mates.

I thought at first that I had snagged myself on something, but no, that warn't it. I took myself down to the hidey-hole where I takes care of necessary things, and I cleans myself up and washes out my drawers. I rips up the smaller of my two old shifts and takes a strip of it and runs it between my legs and takes another strip and ties it around my back and belly holdin' the first strip in place, and then I pulls the drawers back on wet 'cause I can't have 'em hanging out to dry with the fake cod on it and all. Then I heads back to the light.

This has set up a powerful worry in my head and I been mopin' around all down in the face. I can't think of nothin' else.

"C'mon, Jacky, cheer up," says Davy kindly. "Things could be worse."

Easy for you to say, Mate, when you're not dyin of some awful plague, your insides turnin to mush and runnin' out of ye. But I just say that I'm not feelin' good, so sod off and let me alone.

I know it's my insides what are turnin' on me 'cause me belly hurts, too. I've gone down to look through the Professor's books but couldn't find nothin' that spoke to my condition. The Doctor's books are all in Latin, so they're no good, neither.

"Just don't give it to me," says Davy.

Nor bloody likely, Mate.

It's the third day of The Problem and I am weary of the worry. I decide what I'll do if it don't stop is wait till I'm weak with the loss of blood and then go see the Doctor and beg to be put off in some decent port 'cause ain't I been good and done my work and all and made the uniforms and never been switched? The Doctor ain't a very warm type and would probably just want to drop me over the side, but it'd be the Captain's call and maybe he'd be kind. It is a plan and I feel better for having a plan.

The talk among the sailors is that we're low on water as it hasn't rained in months and so we'll have to make port soon. That would be good for me, since we wouldn't be going to an Arab port for the water.

I get a scrap of paper from Tilly's desk and a quill and a bottle of ink and go back down belowdecks.

The Last Will and Testament of Mary "Jacky" Faber

I, Mary "Jacky" Faber, Ships Boy, having died of some terrible and wasting disease, as you well know since you are reading this note which you have found on my lifeless body, give out my worldly things as follows.

To Liam Delaney, Seaman, I give him the love that a grateful daughter gives to her father and I give him back his whistle and thank him for the joy and comfort he has given me.

To Benjamin Hanks, Ship's Boy, I give my uniform and other clothes as he is the one closest to me in size.

To James Fletcher, Ship's Boy, I give my knife and the sure knowledge that once a poor girl loved him. I hope he will think of me fondly, sometimes.

To the other lads of the Brotherhood of Ship's Boys, I give my thanks for their friendship and wish them great good luck in their lives. You now know of my female nature and I hope you will not hold it against me when you think of me in the future.

Even though I am a girl, I would take it most kindly if my remains were treated with some respect and not just thrown overboard with no words said over me. As I have no hammock to be sewn up in, perhaps a bit of canvas could be bought with my remaining pay for that purpose. I want to be buried as a girl, so please put me in my old shift before you put me over the side.

To all my other friends on the dear Dolphin, I give my everlasting love and affection. Please pray for my Immortal Soul, as it needs it.

Signed

Mary "Jacky" Faber, deceased

I tuck my Will inside my vest, where it will surely be found when I breathes me last.

Chapter 15

My Problem went away. I am much relieved and my high spirits return.

The thing still bothers me, though. Why did it happen? Why did it go away? Am I cured? Will it happen again? I resolve to do further study. I keep my Will tucked in my vest.

The Professor's words for today are insidious, surreptitious, and disingenuous. He spells them out and we write them down on our slates and he tells us what they mean. I help Willy write his out. He sits next to me now, on my left, since he always needs help. Tilly is on my right, at the head of the table, and Jaimy is across the table from me. The others are slumped in their chairs half asleep.

"Any questions?" asks Tilly, not expecting a reply. He closes his books, the lesson being over for the day.

"Mr. Tilden," I speaks up, all toady and respectfullike. The lads shoot me looks of pure hatred for holding up their escape back to freedom and the light. "A while back you told us all about those smutty pederasts and sodomites and buggers for our own protection and we really appreciates it that you're looking out for our best interests."

I hesitates and then presses on. I've got to find out some things. "Now, why don't you teach us the other thing," I continue, trying not to blush, "like the way of a lad with a maid..."

That gets the boys' attention. They whoop and pound on the table. Well spoke, Jack-o! Let's have it, Professor!

"...so that our educations will be complete, like, and we'll profit by it by not going down the way of sin and such."

But the Professor will have none of it.

"Oh, Jack," says he, looking at me all sorrowful, "and I thought you were a good boy." He shakes his head sadly.

I want to say that I've been a very good boy, more than he knows, but he plows on. "You of all people. I hoped that you might be a serious scholar some day. Or a man of letters, or even a man of the cloth." He looks heavenward and heaves a sigh of regret for my lost promise.

"Oh, Mr. Tilden," I say all earnest and wide-eyed, "I ask only to be given guidance down the right path, me a poor ignorant boy what don't know no better and port visits coming up where all the temptations will be laid out before my innocent eyes."

"All I will say to you young dogs is..." The circle of leering young dogs leans in closer. "The right path is the one that leads away from the Sins of the Flesh and toward the Pure Light of Reason and Righteousness!" Tilly is really red now.

"If you could be a bit clearer on the 'Sins of the Flesh,' Sir," says Davy, "the mechanics of it, like."

"Wot? You want me to give you instructions in fornication?" Tilly's all swole up like a toad now. I hope he don't take a fit. I can't understand why he's getting so hot about this—he wasn't at all shy in telling us all about those sodomites and such. There seems to be a bit of the Puritan in our Tilly.

"No. I'll have no part in it," he says, setting his mouth in a prim line. "No, you'll have to go to the tarts for your lessons in lechery just like all the bad boys before you who are now roasting in Hell, and you'll get the pox just like them and your noses will fall off and you'll come to the doctor and me, saying how sorry you are and how you'll never do it again and please, Sir, can I have some salts of white mercury, but it'll be too late for that and we'll say it serves you right, you little hounds!"

Tilly gets up all sputtering and spitting and chases us out.

"Keep your minds on your studies and your parts in your pockets or they'll fall off, too!" he says as we tumble out of the room. The anatomy of the female is not his favorite field of study, to be sure.

Is that it, though? Have I got the pox already? If so, how did I get it? I feel my nose to see if it's ready to fall off, but it seems right secure.