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

I'm coming from the Doctor's, where Tilly has sent me to get some books, and I see Davy come rolling in the after hatch and I see Bliffil sitting there all bloated up with drink and I see him trip Davy and then get up all smiling, saying, "Another little snot in need of a lesson," and he rears back and kicks him and Oh no, not again.

Just then I sees Jaimy comin' across the room with blood in his eye and I drops the books and lunges forward and tackles Jaimy about the knees and holds on for his dear life and hisses at him, "Jaimy, no! If you touch him they'll hang you!" And I won't let go of him even though he's strugglin' and beatin' at me shoulders. Bliffil takes another kick and then...

"That's enough, Bliffil."

We look up from the floor and it's Mr. Jenkins standing there. Glory be.

He goes at Bliffil, head down and fists a'flailin'.

I lets go of Jaimy and we both circle around and drag Davy out by his ankles. It ain't the place of ship's boys to hang around and watch officers fight, but we don't miss much of the battle.

When Bliffil gets over his initial shock, he throws Jenkins up against the wall and goes to punch him, but Jenkins moves his head and Bliffil misses and hits the wall and howls with the pain. Jenkins gets behind him and puts on the Jaws o' Death, and Bliffil lunges around the room, his eyes bugging out and his face turnin' red. Bliffil loses his footing and falls against the table, smashing his nose, and the claret flows but he manages to shake Jenkins off and get one good kick in, and Jenkins is doubled over and down and I know it's over when Bliffil gets on top of him, and I say, "Jaimy, go get Mr. Jenkins's men and I'll get Mr. Lawrence," and I runs out and gets up in front of the Second Mate and points to the midshipmen's berth and make mumblin' sounds, and he says, "What the hell are you on about, Faber?" I keeps pointin' and he goes over and sees what's up and he stops the fight. Mr. Jenkins's men go in and pick him up and take him out.

Bliffil gets to his feet and his nose ain't so pretty and noble no more. It's smashed over to the side and looks likely to stay there. When he opens his eyes and looks out, I make sure the first thing he sees is me lookin' at him. Then I leaves.

Mr. Jenkins's men have got him propped up against their gun, mopping at his face, and I can see he ain't hurt too bad. They're patting him on the back and grinnin' and sayin', "Good show, Sir," and he's tryin' to smile.

I go up and say, "You did it, Sir. I'm so proud of you," but when the boys come up to say, "Well done, Sir," and Davy says his thanks for the rescue, I leave and go back to the mizzen top.

***

I've got the canvas for my seabag and I start by cutting a round piece for the bottom. Then the big piece sits on that and I sew it up around the bottom and up the side. I flip the top edge over about an inch and put a seam along the bottom edge of that so it'll hold the drawstring. I work the string through it and turn the whole thing inside out so the neat seams are on the outside, and it's done. It looks right fine, I says to myself.

Tomorrow I'll stitch my name on the side: J. M. FABER. It's getting too dark to do it now, and the seas are really working up and the after top is drawing quite an arc in the air, back and forth.

Right now I'll occupy myself with planning my future.

I've definitely decided on Kingston, Jamaica, as the best I can do—they speak English there, or sort of, and if I make a few shillings I can book passage for the States, where I'm more likely to find a living. As for that, I don't think my sewing's really good enough to get me a job doing it. I mean, most girls have been doing it all their lives. And very little else.

I maybe could play the pennywhistle and sing on street corners for a few pennies if it's allowed. Maybe dance, too. Prolly end up in jail as I don't know what's allowed and what's not in Kingston. I shall have to get next to some of the Jamaican hands at breakfast in the morning. There are two of them, I believe. Since it'll be broad daylight I don't think they'll be tainted by talking to the little fairy and maybe I'll get some useful information.

Before I go to the singing and dancing, though, I think I'll try knocking on the doors of some of the better people in the town and see if their children are in need of a reading tutor. That might be a bit more respectable. A dress would be a help there. I must get on it. The best families would probably balk at a girl dressed up as a sailor boy—not a good example to their little darlings. Best not to worry, though, just deal with what comes up.

I pull out my whistle and play very softly till it's time to go down to the rope locker to sleep.

Chapter 26

I'm in my new kip in the rope locker, at least for part of the night since I've got the Four-to-Eight in the morning. I'll get myself off to sleep, I says to myself, with more planning for my new and exciting future.

Maybe I wouldn't have to do the singing and playing in the street, after all. Not that I'd mind doing it in the street, but I don't want to end up in jail, either. Maybe I could make a deal with a tavern owner to set up in a corner of his place, playing for the sailors when they come in on shore leave. I'd give the owner part of what I brought in and maybe he'd give me a place to stay. A little room of my own, and I'd help clean up, too. I ain't proud. I'll turn these hands to labor, I will. Maybe that would be best. The music would surely be more fun than the tutoring.

This rope ain't the softest stuff, I think as I squirm around, trying to find some comfort.

If I'm going to do the music, I'd probably best settle on what tunes I'd do right now and practice up on them. The usual jigs and reels and dancing ones, of course, but what would really make it good would be some funny songs. Get 'em laughing and they'd be more likely to part with their coin. I'm slippin', slippin' down into sleep, and from up out of nowhere comes something to my mind from long ago, from long, long ago. Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray—

His hand is over me mouth and it's so big he has me whole jaw and me nose in it and I can't breathe and he's all on me and I can't move and...

"Time for our little talk now, Jacky," Sloat whispers in me ear. I can smell the sweat on him and the rum and I can taste the dirt in his hand and I tries to wriggle and squeal, but he's on me so that I can't, I can't get away.

"Oh, little Jacky, you're going to like this, you'll see. I knows you was sleepin' down here so I'd come and find ye. Wasn't ye, Jacky? You'll be back every day for more and more, I know you will, and you'll love yer uncle Bill more and more every day. Oh yes, you will."

His beard is on me face and neck and then he's kissin' me and with his other hand he's pullin' down me pants and the drawstring breaks and then his hand is on me. Oh, God.

He stops moving all of a sudden. His head jerks up and he looks in me eyes.

"Well, well, what have we here? Not a little rooster, but a little hen, my, my ... Well, well, even better." He chuckles deep in his throat and puts his head back down on mine. "Got a little henhouse there, Jacky? A cuckoo's nest? Such fun," he says low and thick, pantin' the rum hard in me face.

He pulls me pants down around me ankles and keeps laughin' and whisperin' in me ear, "Oh yes. This is gonna be fine, you'll see, Jacky, you'll see ... Bill Sloat, you old rascal you old devil, you could always smell it a mile ... a mile..."

I pulls me shiv back out of his gut, and he roars and stands up and looks at the bloodstain growin' on his shirt. I only meant to prick him a bit to get him off of me, that's all I wanted, but I look at me shiv and the blood is on it all the way down to the hilt, and he keeps roaring and sayin,' " Son of a bitch, son of a bitch, " over and over. He's teetering back and forth from the rum and the stabbin' and the rollin' of the ship, and there's voices yellin', " It's Shot." "He's drunk again." "He's stole Tommy's ration again, " and he keeps reelin' backward and hits the rail just as the ship rolls, and he's over the side and there's a splash and then nothin'.