Bloody Jack: Being an Account of the Curious Adventures of Mary 'Jacky' Faber, Ship's Boy

midshipmen usually stick to the rear of the ship, so we're out of their sight and hearing, which is good, 'cause if they saw us lazing about they'd sure find something for us to do.

We sprawl about in the sun and talk. The boys talk about how brave they're going to be when we come upon some luckless pirate. Jaimy especially talks fierce about how he'll be the first across, and he waves a pretend sword and allows as how he'll be made an officer 'cause of his bravery, and Davy stands up with his pretend sword and they joyfully hack at each other. I reserve judgement on how brave I'll be in a fight, 'cause I don't think I'll be brave at all and I'm just hoping I don't disgrace myself.

Today after our duties, I'm sitting down with me shiv in my lap and I'm carving a rooster's head on the hilt of it in remembrance of Charlie whose shiv it was original. I borrowed the carving gouge from Liam, and I'm making the outline. I figure I'll rub some colors in later when I get 'em. We start talking about our old gangs and I'm tellin' 'em about Charlie and Hughie and the girls, when Tink pipes up with, 'Me and me gang had a run in wi' Charlie Rooster's crew once ... I recalls a really big bloke and a bunch of girls throwin' rocks and red-haired Charlie, of course, but I don't recall you. Funny, that.' Tink peers at me, curiouslike.

'That's 'cause I was up on Blackfriar's Bridge with a big rock ready to drop on your stupid head if you got any closer to our kip,' says I, 'and it would've been good riddance to the likes of you—and I wish I had done it.'

Tink grins his good-natured grin. 'You're right. It was at a bridge.' He leans back against the mast and smiles up into the sun. 'And now we's mates. Ain't it strange?'

Stranger than you know, lad.

Jaimy has loosened up considerable since he first came on board all stiff and horrified by the likes of us. He's one of us now, but there's chinks in his knowing about life and the lives of others. Like now we're all talking about our past lives and I'm talking about Charlie and the gang and then I tells about That Dark Day when me family died and how Muck come for me sister and I'm startin' to choke up a bit and then Jaimy up and says he don't believe a word of it.

'Ah, you're all having me on,' he says, resentfullike. He don't like being made fun of.

'Nay, it's true, Jaimy,' says Benjy. 'Muck was one o' them what come and got the dead uns and sold 'em to the doctors.'

But Jaimy's still sittin' there not believin' it, and for some reason I loses me head and gets all hot and I'm quick up on me hands and knees facing him and me eyes are wellin' up and I says, 'Of course you ain't believin' it when all ye ever did then was ride in yer damn fancy coach and stare out at the kids in the street with their hands out to ye, and if ye ever did wonder where they come from, yer high-and-fine mum'd tell you they all come from the fancy houses, aye, and all their mums tarts and all their dads villains and drunkards, too, right?'

I jumps up to go and sticks me shiv and me carvin' tool in me vest.

'Come on, Jacky, it ain't his fault,' says Davy.

'Yes, it is. He's a bleedin' toff what don't know nothin'!'

Jaimy's face is red and he looks at me mad and I glares back at him. 'Watch your mouth, Jack,' he says through his teeth. He clenches his fists.

'Piss off, James,' says I through me own teeth. 'I bet ye thought the street scum could go to fine orphanages and such anytime they wanted. They couldn't, James, 'cause there ain't no orphanages! There's only Muck and sickness and cold and starvin' and shame and brothels and the gallows!'

The tears are runnin' down me face for real now, and I turns and grabs a shroud and wraps me legs around it and slides down to the deck. Then I goes down to one of me hidey-holes way below deck and curls up and hugs me knees and looks off in the dark.

I wonder about these moods that have been coming over me lately when ever'thing's going along just fine. Why'd I have to light into Jaimy like that? It really wasn't his fault. I do know I'm going to have to control myself more or I'm going to be found out and The Deception will be over and I'll be put off to be a slave to some awful sultan and I know I cry much too much for a boy and I resolve to stop.

Saucy sea sailors don't cry.

Later we're all back up there in the foretop, with me a little shamefaced. Jaimy punches me in my arm and I punch him in his and all is forgiven and forgotten, and in the warmth of all this forgiveness we decide to set up a secret society, the Brotherhood of the Ship's Boys of His Majesty's Ship the Dolphin.

We make up secret handshakes and signs so we'll be able to recognize each other when we're locked in dark dungeons and pirate castles and such. We decide on the number three as our secret number, and we swear mighty oaths to stand up and protect each other and to never tell the secrets to others on pain of death. We swear never to forget each other when we are far flung across the face of the earth and famous in legend and song.

Davy says we must put a mark upon ourselves to prove the Brotherhood or it don't count for much, and we have to agree. For starters we each takes out our knives and nicks our left thumb to draw blood and then puts all our thumbs together so that we are blood brothers just like the savages, but Tink don't think it's enough for such a dread Brotherhood as ours and why don't we cut off our right earlobes and sew 'em all in a packet and send it overboard with a note to Neptune, which makes me sick but I say nothing, and Davy pipes up with, 'Why don't we all get the same tattoo when we go ashore?'

Everyone thinks that's a great idea, 'cept me, but I don't say nothin' 'cause I don't want to stand out and who knows when we'll go ashore again. A worry in the future is better than a mangled ear right now.

They all fall to deciding what sort of tattoo to get and where to put it and Willy says, 'Why not get a naked dancin' girl like Big Morty has on his arm which 'e can make dance by flexin' 'is muscle? We could get it done on our right butt cheek.'

The others admit that would be prime but maybe we ought to have somethin' a bit more nauticallike. I agree with all my heart, thinking about how I'd have some real explainin' to do if I grow up to be a lady and get married and on my wedding night my husband discovers a naked dancing girl tattooed on my tail. Course, I'd rather not get a tattoo at all.

We decide to leave what and where till we're ashore and can see what can be had. We solemnly adjourns the meeting of the Brotherhood and decide to meet at the bowsprit for a bit of a splash, a baptism of our new Brotherhood, so we slide down the shroud lines like the salty sailors we are and do not climb down the rope ladder like pathetic landsmen.

We make it to the bowsprit without being waylaid by any who might think the Dolphin might be better served by us doing some actual work. The bowsprit is the pointy thing on the front of the ship that has a narrow gangplank running out on it and has one of the fore-and-aft sails hooked on its end. There's a net rigged under the bowsprit to catch any sailor who might fall off the gangway in heavy weather.

The net might have been rigged for that serious purpose, but it ain't what we use it for. When the ship hits gentle rolling swells, like it's doing right now, the bowsprit dips down toward the wave and the net goes under the water a bit. We doff our shirts and climb down in the netting and try to stifle our squeals as the water surges up to meet us. The water hits us powerful hard, but the net holds us safe.

We're getting near Gilbraltar now and the water is turning a clear blue and dolphins, the most amazing things, come up close to us in the net. They look at us with their bright little eyes and they seem almost to be laughing at us and our ship, which is named for 'em but which ain't near as fast. We laugh at them and each other as we plow through the foam, the dolphins larking about and jumping clean out of the water and not working hard at all to keep up with us. We 'specially hoot and jeer at Davy since the shameless monkey has taken off his pants as well as his shirt, but the other boys don't follow his lead as they are already soaked, which is lucky for me 'cause now I don't have to make up some lame excuse and leave.

When we come back on deck and put our shirts on, Bill Sloat is there and he's looking at me, smiling.

Chapter 11

Mr. Tilden holds the class for the midshipmen at a long table set up in the gun room, which is where the