Chat on the Foc'sle

"Haven't done me last name yet, have I?" Thompson said, grinning. "Well, here's the first letter of it, a line acrost and a line down. Could be a man coilin' a bit of rope, that could. Or it could be the yards of a mast."

"True, could be! And that's a Tee. I have one in me name too." He grinned. "Also used in, um.. tea n' all those words. Like ten n' so! Is a big T again. " He smiled, his back still arched.

"You know, I'm impressed. You really practiced n'all!"

"I said I bin practisin', didn't I. Wouldn't be right, to get shown how to write me name an' then not be able to do it when I needed to, after all. Here's the next one. Looks a bit like a chair, or summat, I think." He drew the 'h' carefully, trying to keep the cloth under his hand smooth so that it didn't drag or bunch up under his finger.

"Mmm. It's a chair like alright. and a proper h, if me senses are anything ter go judge by." He smiled. "N' you know.. some say they will do things, but don't... well I know that yer not like that, but I guess I'm still more glad ter have that confirmed even more!"

He smiled, and reached back to tug on the shirt till it was straightened nicely.

The Marine grinned. "Hey, I ain't some folks, am I. I'm me. An' this one's the egg-lookin' one. Could be a bun or a bit of hardtack, too, I s'pose." He drew another 'o'.

"You'um you.. that's for sure." He smiled. "Sorry I'd have ever said different." He shifted just a little. " You've got lots of oh's you know." He paused: "But I dunno what you just wrote, so can yer write it again?" There was the sort of innocence in his voice that would go well with one playing at being innocent.

"I just wrote the first three letters of me surname. Seems I'd best do it all in one go, else you'll get yourself confused again." Thompson grinned and wiped the flat of his hand down the boy's back, as though cleaning a slate off. "Here," he said. "This's all me last name, that's me mum's name too. And Annie's, o' course." He 'wrote' carefully, forming each letter on top of the one before it, yet pausing between each one. "How's that, then?"

The boy hadn't replied right away. But as he did it was with a nod and a light: "You may well be t' bes' student I had." He turned to look at Thompson, over his shoulder.

"Might teach... might teach you more, if you'd want it?" It was an offer, but would he ask for something in return as he had the other time? He had been tempted probably, for his grog supplies were hardly growing.

" Could you write it again or... draw summat." He dared to add. "Jus'.. I can guess or summat. I will. "

"Wouldn't mind learnin' more," Thompson said. "I'll do it again if you want. Don't think I'm very good at drawin'." He started again, tracing each letter carefully. "Right, here's the first letter. Dunno what it makes me think of, really. The second one's like a cat curled up, a bit. Then there's the egg. Then there's summat like a shepherd's crook. Then the goat. Then the cat again, an' that's me Christian name."

"Then.. I might teach you. More than jus' t' letters of yer name." He murmured. "T' big G... Um.... could be a really crooked anchor? Or a hook, some sort of a hook." He spoke softly.

"I dunno if I'll be as good at namin' t' letters. But.. maybe I'll teach you n' you'll tell me wot' they remind ye off. N' we can start... dunno, any day when there's time is fine t' me."

He sighed contently. "Curled cat. Miss Emily be t' first, n' t' second?"

"Mebbe the G one's a fish-hook," Thompson mused. "Anyway, here's me surname. Like I said, the first one's a mast an' yard, then there's the chair sort of thing, then another egg, then... dunno. Mebbe it's a bridge with two arches. Then one that looks a bit like a sail on a mast. Then a sort of snake, and another egg - got lots of them - an' a bridge with one arch. An' that's all me name."

He'd drawn every letter carefully with a pause between it and the next.

"Was that all right?"

" You'd have made yourself a fine dish." He didn't know how, but he felt proud of Thompson's achievement. Having really learnt each letter and now he had written them faster. Better, and more certain.

" It was. Wos' actually just as it should've been. From first till last." He yawned and didn't really care how much time passed. "Yer did a fine job, George. N' fun." He stiffled a chuckle. "Wot' with your examples! Will stop readin' things, n' start imagining all t' animals 'stead, n' t' eggs, n' t' hooks n' things!"

"Well, that's what i allus thought when I saw a piece o' writin'. Like when the Marines recruitin' handbill was posted all over. Only knew it was for the Marines 'cause I heard some folks talkin' about it."

He was pleased, really pleased, that he'd managed to learn it right and had managed to show de Guarde, without any mistakes.

"Well, is not all them animals and all though. Sometimes things, well you know like letters from home or ter home. Couldn't be possible without letters. Yer can't draw so well as to tell everything you've experienced, no matter what sort of artist yer may be." He gazed ahead of him at the hammocks, his voice still low in whisper.

"And books. They're useful because they teach n' they tell you about history, is a way ter not forget too. Like all those scribbles we have to do, ..err.... had to do.." The last few words were spoken a bit more hesitant, aloof. "... calculatin'. That's another thing you do with writing. Count, calculate, make your place on the map. Know yer time. That sort o' thing. Real useful."

"Aye, seen the young gentlemen takin' their sights at noon, just afore dinner," Thompson said. "I bet you're real good at all that sort of thing, though." He was probably no better than any other young gentleman, but taking the noon sight was one of the things that separated the officers from the others and Thompson had wondered, sometimes, how they could tell where they were just from looking at the sun at noon.

"Well I am...was trying me better at least." He shrugged. "You jus' do it, n' do it again. N' try' ter stay focused. Which you learn ter do quick."

He pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees. " We don't get bothered by it anyway. Tars. Don't need to do half of them hard things. Just learn our trade..."

"I'm sorry," Thompson said awkwardly. "Didn't mean to upset you, like."

"..You didn't." He said a bit apathetically. "Is allright. We really don't need to do so much of that work n'...." He bit his lip, chewing on it.

"..we don't. So that's a good thing, isn't it?"

"I did, though, an' I'm real sorry." Thompson found himself doodling idly on the boy's back with a finger, and rubbed it soothingly instead. "I think you're doin' good, though. I do, really."

"Thanks. Lookin'...looking forward ter skylarkin' tomorrow. I hope it will be summat good n' real. I mean, that it will really happen you know. Though Oxley looked dependable n' it would be silly if it were all a prank. I mean.. all of them boys, n' him callin' me up jus' ter fool me. That'd be a tall tale, n' them young ones can't hold in a secret once they've had it. Never can. Can't even be all serious if they know summat's up."

So that was that. It had to be true. And he was babbling, if only that he could ease his mind. The rubbing helped, and he only hoped Thompson wouldn't stop, not that or if he did, atleast start doodling again, as long as he didn't just stop altogether.

"I've seen 'em do it afore, the skylarkin' thing, I mean. They allus have fun with those, they do. You'll like it, I'm sure you will. And Oxley's a good sort of lad, even if he does need to think sometimes afore he says anythin'. He never means things badly, anyway."

The rubbing seemed to be soothing de Guarde a little and Thompson kept at it. "You'll be all right, lad, you will."

"I hope yer right though.. you haven't been wrong till now. N' that's sort of scary, yer know. ..cos' then wotever ye be tellin' me.. must be right too. N' ..well, is odd." He smiled at that though.

"Oxley's not thinkin' that's fer sure. Well rather not thinkin' wot' he should not say before he says it! But..he's nice, n' think that... that trippin' sorted him around a little." He was grateful and didn't dare move a muscle if that could prompt the marine to stop.

"You'll be fine, you see if you ain't. An' that's what it means to trust someone, that. Can be a bit scary, can't it?"

He kept right on stroking. "You ought to be findin' your hammock soon, lad, or you'll be asleep right here on the deck afore you knows it, and that ain't comfy to do."

"Worse than jus' scary. Since it gets yer hopes up n' .. is not nice ter have them crushed again. Better never have 'em up, if yer can choose." He smiled. "But.....I think I can trust you without.. t' other part. Right?.. I mean's foolish ter ask, since 'fcourse you couldn't jus' say different... but you mean it. Don't yer."

He didn't want to go even if he felt his eyes starting to close of their own accord. Of course he could blame the stroking for it, but be damned if he wanted it to stop. "Mmm.. jus' a lil' while longer, unless yer want ter go sleep then'um.. we can go. s' never a trouble fer me to sleep on t' floor. Did sleep on a seachest when I wos' too tired n' hammocks weren't ter be down yet."

"Folks sleep in all sorts of strange places till they're used to the watches," Thompson said. "You'll feel all stiff an' achy when your watch gets called if you don't get to your hammock, though, I know that much."