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

I jerk my leg away. "You sods are just havin' us on," I say, but still their faces stay stony and grim. "Ain't you?"

Snag is in the boat and he chimes in with, "It ain't just for our own nourishment and enjoyment, oh no," he says. "Say some nasty sharks happen to circle around the boat, lookin' to make trouble for poor honest seamen, well, we just toss em a spare ship's boy and behold—them sharks turns just as nice as any gentlemen and they tips their fins to ye as they leave."

This cuts it, and roars of laughter at my red and gullible face go out across the water.

The sods.

It is good that the weather has turned cooler. I would be stifling otherwise because now I have to wear Charlie's old vest on the inside, under my white shirt, to squash down my chest, which is suddenly and traitorously growing and threatening to give me away. It works, but I fear that soon I won't be able to breathe. Maybe I won't grow very big.

Yesterday, Tilly's words were billowing, burgeoning, and blossoming. I could have swatted him.

"All I really want is a small ship," says I, "that could carry a respectable cargo and be able to be handled with just a few—"

"We know what you want, Jacky," says Davy. "Just put a sock in it."

"Piss off, Davy," snarls I, steamed up at being interrupted. "Someday, you vile little scab, someday when the wars are all over and you're stranded on shore, you'll come to the fine offices of Faber Shipping Company Worldwide and say, 'Will ye be givin' me a post now, Jacky?' and I will not."

Davy laughs. "You'll have to, Jack, because of the Oath of the Brotherhood."

"Well then, Davy, I'll give you a post as ship's boy and I'll keep you as ship's boy till you go all bald and stooped in the back, and won't you scrub the head till it shines, by God!"

They all roll around and hoot and snort at the very idea of Faber Shipping. I'll show you, you sods. Just you wait.

I go back to fingering my pennywhistle, which I find I can play very softly up here in the top when the wind's blowing and not get in trouble. I've added a few more jigs, "Haste to the Wedding" and 'The Hare in the Corn," and another mournful one, "My Bonnie Light Horseman," which is powerful sad and beautiful, but the girl don't get killed and thrown in a lonesome grave in this one, for a change. It's the boy who dies. In war.

The lads are back to predicting what noble sailors they're going to grow up to be and how brave they were in the last fight, but Jaimy don't join in and is quiet, and I know it's because he don't think much of the way he acted in the fight on the pirate ship. And maybe it's something else.

A few nights ago Jaimy and I were on the midwatch and it was calm and peaceful on the ocean, just a gentle breeze, and after we got coffee for the men on watch we got some for ourselves and sat sipping it and watched the constellations wheel about the night sky.

Jaimy starts talking about his family, how there's three sisters at home and one older brother what got sent off to school, but there wasn't enough money for Jaimy, so he got sent off to sea but couldn't go as a midshipman 'cause his dad couldn't buy him a place and he had no influence with the Navy, so ship's boy was the best he could do. It purely mortified his father to send him off, and his mother like to died with grief, but what else was there to do, what with the family wine business having just about perished because of the blockades of the French ports. His father had inherited some money and his mother came from a good family, but everything was gone now. His brother, George, was in school to become a solicitor, but it would be years before he could practice law and make any money.

"So I guess it's up to me," says Jaimy, all glum. "And I haven't made a very good show of it so far."

"Sure you have," says I. "You're sure to be made midshipman soon. You're quick at the studies and Tilly's sure to recommend you, and I know the Captain's noticed your bravery."

"My bravery," he snorts, hanging his head.

"Jaimy, you were the first one over. Everyone saw that. You could not have been braver."

"But when I got over, I just stood there like a fool. I didn't know what to do."

Aye, Jaimy, I thinks. It's one thing to dream of glory in battle and quite another to actually stick a sword into another person's soft parts. Or a bullet.

"You were right behind me and you actually did something. You acted like ... like an officer. You should be the one picked for midshipman. You and Mr. Lawrence took that ship. You saved my very life."

"I shot a man in the back, that's all I did, and I'll probably have to answer for that someday. There was no bravery in it.

"No, you conducted yourself with honor. You should be proud."

" Honor? " I hisses in the dark. " Honor? Honor to me is keepin' my head down and my tail covered and hopin' I don't disgrace myself when things get chancy."

He laughs softly in the dark and says, "But you're Bloody Jack, famous in legend and song."

In the gloom, I see him reach out, as if he's going to give me an affectionate head rub, but then he stops and takes back his hand. He turns his head and looks away.

"I don't like being called that, Jaimy."

I would have liked the pet, but I don't say so.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm really not bloody-minded at all. I'm really a peaceful sort of coward."

"Right," he says. "Look. There's Orion up there."

I look up to see The Hunter turning about high in the night sky.

"Yes. There's Rigel in his leg and good old Betelgeuse on his shoulder."

"And Aldebaran up in Taurus."

The breeze slips down from the curve of the massive sail hanging over our heads and flows around us, a warm river of air. Some of Jaimy's hair has come loose from his braid and whips gently across his face. I gaze upon him in the moonlight as he looks off across the water.

Oh, Jaimy, I want to tell you so bad.

Chapter 20

It's just another Sunday, just another inspection. We scrub her down, we shine her up, and we wait for the Captain to come around.

At least we're presentable now, and I make sure the boys are all lined up nice in our kip and their uniforms are clean and crisp. Now that they're all used to wearing them, I think I shall have to make us some neat caps. A cap would be good for me, too, because I could hide my growing hair up in it. My hair ain't long enough for a pigtail yet, but it's getting long enough to make me look more like a girl and that's not good. The caps will be blue, of course, with white stripes around the headband and a blue ribbon hanging down in back and...

"Who made you the bleedin' boss?" growls Tink.

"Someone's got to get you swine all in a line, all shipshape and Bristol fashion," says I, and then Captain Locke is there, with his usual party.

"The boys are looking tidy," says he. "And they're certainly growing." He's looking at Willy's hairy legs sticking out from the bottom of his trousers.

"Very good," he says, looking about, "however, we're going to have to do something about this." He points to the pile of our bedding behind us, which I did try to fold and neaten up before, but of little use. "I won't have my guns cluttered up so."

He casts his eyes to the overhead, where the hammock hooks are attached. The hammocks are only put up at night. During the day they are rolled up and stored with the seamen's seabags over by the bulkhead. "Let's rig up some hammocks for them."

The Bo'sun murmurs something about not bein' enough room, Sir, not for five, to the First Mate, who passes on the information to the Captain, who heard it well enough the first time but naval custom must be observed.

"Well, then, set up three," he orders firmly. "We lost that many men from the lower deck in the last fight. Put the big one"—and he points to Willy—"in one by himself. The others can sleep two by two in the other hammocks, head to foot. It will do for a while. Make it so."