Read Online Jaded Tides (The Razor's Adventures Pirate Tales) by P.S. Bartlett - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: P.S. Bartlett
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rested his right hip on it as he spoke. “Went ta school, did ye?”
“Well, no. My aunt taught us when we were little g…when we were children back in America.”
“America, aye? Whereabouts? Ain’t n’er been there meself, so if ye don’t want ta say, I won’t know no better anyway. So, is she there still? Yer aunt, I mean.”
“Oh, no. She and our uncle died when we were little. It’s been just us since then. So, ye can understand why I worry.” Throughout our entire conversation, I never once concerned myself that I was divulging anything I shouldn’t have. It felt good to talk to someone, no matter who it was. Fin was a decent fellow and as close to what might be considered a friend as I could ever hope to have on this ship. I figured it couldn’t hurt to talk for a bit, as long as I was truthful about everything except my masquerade.
Fin must have either been lonely or unable to sleep as well, because he stayed for at least an hour, until I yawned loudly, and he echoed my involuntary call to sleep. “When ye lay down, hold yer hands up over yer head, mate. That’s water ‘neath yer skin. Once yer hands get used to the work, that won’t happen no more. Used to happen to me when I first started usin’ my hands for more than stealin’ bread from the baker.” He winked. “Hold yer hands up, and the water will go back where it came from by sunrise,” he said as he showed me what he meant and then slapped me hard on the back before heading for the door. “And snuff that lantern. I know we’s ain’t in deep water yet, but don’t ever leave nothin’ ta chance on a ship, where fire’s concerned.”
“Thank you, Fin,” I said as I watched him go and did as I was advised. When I laid back in my hammock, I raised my hands and placed them as he’d told me to before; at last, I fell asleep, wishing I was at the cove in the arms of my love.
Seven
CAPTAIN BERGMAN
At first light on the fourth day, I met a cat. This wasn’t just any cat, but a beast of an animal who woke me with its incessant caterwauling before, at last, it stopped when I tossed it a piece of stale bread from my half-eaten plate from the night before. “That should stop your squawking,” I said as I leaned down to pat it between the ears. I’d opened the door to the sick berth to shoo the poor thing away before sitting down to write in my journal, when I heard footsteps approaching.
“Don’t feed her,” a husky voice said from the doorway.
“What?” I asked, shooing her off.
“She’ll earn her keep like the rest of us. She gets water, and if she’s lucky, goat’s milk, and that’s only if she keeps the rats under control.” The man was unfamiliar to me but appeared to have seen his fair share of cats and rats, as well as ships. He wore a knitted cap and a billowy shirt rolled to his elbows that was either mottled with a shade of gray or just filthy. His breeches were loosely fitted, and his bare feet were so black that for a moment I thought his shoes had holes where his toes peeked out.
“May I help ye, mate?” I asked, crossing my arms and squaring my shoulders.
“Not yet, but by the time we’re in the deep water, I’ll be needin’ somethin’ for me belly. Let’s just keep that between us, aye?” he whispered as he leaned towards me and winked.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of…what did ye say yer name was?” I asked as I walked to my desk to make a note of the man’s ailment, so that I could check the medical book and prepare what he needed to settle his stomach. As I lifted the quill, I was overjoyed to see that Fin was right and my hands were finally becoming accustomed to my work. Despite the soreness that lingered in my fingers, the swelling was gone.
“I ain’t ashamed a’ nothin’, Doc. Name’s not important—I’m a gunner, and I cain’t be spillin’ me guts ‘ery time she takes a hard tilt, got it?” The pasty skin of his face jiggled loosely when he spoke, and his
“Well, no. My aunt taught us when we were little g…when we were children back in America.”
“America, aye? Whereabouts? Ain’t n’er been there meself, so if ye don’t want ta say, I won’t know no better anyway. So, is she there still? Yer aunt, I mean.”
“Oh, no. She and our uncle died when we were little. It’s been just us since then. So, ye can understand why I worry.” Throughout our entire conversation, I never once concerned myself that I was divulging anything I shouldn’t have. It felt good to talk to someone, no matter who it was. Fin was a decent fellow and as close to what might be considered a friend as I could ever hope to have on this ship. I figured it couldn’t hurt to talk for a bit, as long as I was truthful about everything except my masquerade.
Fin must have either been lonely or unable to sleep as well, because he stayed for at least an hour, until I yawned loudly, and he echoed my involuntary call to sleep. “When ye lay down, hold yer hands up over yer head, mate. That’s water ‘neath yer skin. Once yer hands get used to the work, that won’t happen no more. Used to happen to me when I first started usin’ my hands for more than stealin’ bread from the baker.” He winked. “Hold yer hands up, and the water will go back where it came from by sunrise,” he said as he showed me what he meant and then slapped me hard on the back before heading for the door. “And snuff that lantern. I know we’s ain’t in deep water yet, but don’t ever leave nothin’ ta chance on a ship, where fire’s concerned.”
“Thank you, Fin,” I said as I watched him go and did as I was advised. When I laid back in my hammock, I raised my hands and placed them as he’d told me to before; at last, I fell asleep, wishing I was at the cove in the arms of my love.
Seven
CAPTAIN BERGMAN
At first light on the fourth day, I met a cat. This wasn’t just any cat, but a beast of an animal who woke me with its incessant caterwauling before, at last, it stopped when I tossed it a piece of stale bread from my half-eaten plate from the night before. “That should stop your squawking,” I said as I leaned down to pat it between the ears. I’d opened the door to the sick berth to shoo the poor thing away before sitting down to write in my journal, when I heard footsteps approaching.
“Don’t feed her,” a husky voice said from the doorway.
“What?” I asked, shooing her off.
“She’ll earn her keep like the rest of us. She gets water, and if she’s lucky, goat’s milk, and that’s only if she keeps the rats under control.” The man was unfamiliar to me but appeared to have seen his fair share of cats and rats, as well as ships. He wore a knitted cap and a billowy shirt rolled to his elbows that was either mottled with a shade of gray or just filthy. His breeches were loosely fitted, and his bare feet were so black that for a moment I thought his shoes had holes where his toes peeked out.
“May I help ye, mate?” I asked, crossing my arms and squaring my shoulders.
“Not yet, but by the time we’re in the deep water, I’ll be needin’ somethin’ for me belly. Let’s just keep that between us, aye?” he whispered as he leaned towards me and winked.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of…what did ye say yer name was?” I asked as I walked to my desk to make a note of the man’s ailment, so that I could check the medical book and prepare what he needed to settle his stomach. As I lifted the quill, I was overjoyed to see that Fin was right and my hands were finally becoming accustomed to my work. Despite the soreness that lingered in my fingers, the swelling was gone.
“I ain’t ashamed a’ nothin’, Doc. Name’s not important—I’m a gunner, and I cain’t be spillin’ me guts ‘ery time she takes a hard tilt, got it?” The pasty skin of his face jiggled loosely when he spoke, and his