Sloat thing and the Bliffil thing is weighing heavy on the ship and it seems to be weighing heavy on the Brotherhood, too.
Finally Davy gets up and points at me and says what's been on his mind.
'If you weren't forever prancin' about and wigglin' yer ass the way you do, maybe stuff like this wouldn't happen. All this bad blood and bad luck is on account of
I feel like I've been punched in the gut. This can't be happening. This has got to be just some more Jacky and Davy bickerin'. But no ... I look at the others. They look away. They don't say nothing. I look at Jaimy and say, 'Jaimy...,' and plead with my eyes, but he don't say nothin'. Jaimy shakes his head and looks down at his feet.
I jump up and grab the shroud and take a last look at them standin' there all quiet. Then I go over the edge and slide down to the deck. As I leave the Brotherhood, I hear a mutter.
'
I go down and get my gear from where it's stored, rolled up beside our ... his hammock. I go back up on deck and look about. After a bit of thinking, I head for the mizzenmast, which is the most aft mast on the ship, and climb up into the mizzen top. Later on I'll stow my gear down in my hidey-hole and I'll probably sleep in the rope locker on the port side, well away from ... them.
I survey my new home. I have a good view of the ship from here and I can't see the foretop, which is good 'cause I don't want to see the foretop or anything on it. The quarterdeck with the watch and all the officers is right below, so it ain't a very popular spot on the ship, but it's fine with me. I'll lead my solitary life up here and get ready for my departure. I resolve to make a seabag for my things as I will have need of it soon. I might think about making a dress.
He's just a boy. I thought he was something more, but he's not. He's just a boy. Everthing else was just something I'd made up in my mind.
This is a good thing that has happened. Events have been spinning out of my control. It's time to get things in order. Time to get on with my life. I must make plans.
I must go down and get some canvas for my seabag. That's the thing to do now.
Chapter 25
I do my duties and stand my watches.
In my off time I sew and play my whistle in the mizzen top. I eat by myself. At night I sleep in the rope locker. I don't need to be awakened for my watches, as I can tell from the bells when it's time to get up. I don't bother anyone. I set up the classroom and I help with the teaching, but I don't joke and I don't laugh. I stay out of Bliffil's way and I'm done with Jenkins. Davy says, 'I'm sorry, Jacky. Come on back to the top,' but I shake my head and say 'No, it's different now, it ain't the same,' and they know it's true. Jaimy don't even look at me.
Mr. Tilden gives us the words for today, but I don't remember what they are and I don't care.
One thing that grieves me, though, is that I've got to stay away from Liam 'cause it ain't good for him to be seen with
I guess the old superstition about girls on board being bad luck wasn't too far from the truth.
All that is not my concern now. My plans are in order. One day out from Jamaica I will inform Mr. Tilden of my gender and he will tell the First Mate and he will tell the Captain. I will be confined and hopefully not beaten and put off the next day. I hope they will give me a little of my pay so I will have a bit of a start and not have to beg right off.
I am settled in my mind. I am content.
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
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.
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
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
