Sailors with shackles

"You daft boy, you," Thompson said. "All that fuss over nothin', an' look where you've ended up. It didn't hurt after all, did it?" He shook his head. "I'll talk with him later, then, Bertie. Cheers, mate."

"Ain't daft.." The lad mumbled and rubbed his eyes sleepily. It didn't look as if he was fully awake, but just enough to make that retort. "....it..."He yawned debating whether he wanted to sleep on, or to wake and meet with the redcoat.

"It's all right. I need to shift me rig," Thompson said, unwilling to disturb the lad, despite everything that had happened.

"George?" The lad murmured not sure if he was not just dreaming it. He was hesitant. Surely none of the lads and men would come to see him in irons. He peeked in the direction of the voice never the less, just to be sure.

"...ain't you 'ere." He mumbled, not that convinced.

"Open your eyes an' check who's here an' who ain't," Thompson said. "You'm daft as a brush, times, you is."

"I ain't daft." He snapped, and then slowly sat up rubbing his eyes. He stretched and looked at his feet still in irons. It did not appear that Thompson came to take him out of those. It meant he was still meant to stay here. The captain has not yet made his decision.

"..Tole' you so." He mumbled. "I've been sleepin'.

"You're one of the daftest folks I think I ever met," Thompson said. He couldn't sit; if anybody came it would take him a while to get to his feet, and really, he shouldn't be here at all. "Makin' all that fuss over nothin' - a boy of your age!"

"..You're daft then, if yer think it was nothin'." He replied, but could not yet find the haughtiness the retort deserved. He was only starting to wake up. "N' don' ye say I's daft again!" He added. The shackles were becoming bothersome. He curled his toes and then brought them closer and them further away from his leg, stretching his foot thus, a little.

"You wasn't hurt, was you? An' nobody but you noticed them scars, so there weren't no reason to kick up such a fuss. Poor Fingers had his hair cut, an' I barely heard him when he asked the surgeon not to do it." The lad's movements were rattling the irons a little. It wasn't comfortable sitting there, Thompson knew that from his own recent experience.

"Poor?.. Ain't I see how that's bein' poor. S' jus' hair, n' it grows back neat." He scowled and glared at George. The man did not understand and he felt that it would be impossible to make him understand too. But perhaps more so because he was not good at explaining it well.

"...but I did see 'im runnin' like his feet were on fire. Earlier. Did too. Ain't he took it bravely at all." He scoffed. "...An he had none the reason to be upset!"

"Look, it ain't all about you, an' that's all you ever seem to care about." Thompson sighed. "I dunno how you'll ever learn. Folks think a damn sight more of Fingers than they do of you." He sighed.  "Yes, hair grows back. That ain't the point. It hurt him just as much as gettin' naked did you. More, I think, 'cause whatever it was in his hair, they tried to get it out first an' couldn't. But he stood there an' took it without hardly a murmur."

"Sure they do. Couse he's their friend. N' I ain't. N' couse they're jus' daft." He stared at Thompson as the man told him that having hair cut or picked hurt more than what he had felt. "...You're stupid. " He muttered darkly.

"...It ain't 'bout me. I know that. But ...you wouldn't understand n' I can't tell you anyway. ..s' jus' hair ain't.. Ain't worse at all! It ain't ! And you're stupid to say it is. T' whole Terpsy's stupid if they think a wee bit of haircut's worth tremblin' an' running of ter a dark corner o' t' ship!"

"You think a kid like Fingers has more friends than you do? He's a foundlin', like Terry Button. They've got no family apart from the crew of the ship here, an' the men don't think of 'em as friends. The only real friends those lads have are each other. Me, I've at least got Mum an' Annie, back home. An' that meant a great deal to him. It took as much courage for him to stan' there as... as it did for you to go up the mast the first time."

"Ain't true. He's not faced a single danger goin' there ter be washed. His life wosn't in danger was it now?.. Nay, it was not! Only needed a bit o' a scrubbing. s' all. And that would be good fer all o' us.. as we'd not get an ill thin' that he'd get.. not scrubbin' hisself." He scowled. Did Thompson honestly believe that the boy, who had the whole of the ship boy's gang and that of the marine boys as friends, had fewer still than he?

"I heard 'em goin' there. Saw Button." He said simply and shrugged. "Yer can't tell me he's a poor thing .. as he ain't. Ain't all in t' family lef' behind. Not fer everyone it ain't!"

"I dunno," Thompson said simply, and shrugged. "All I know is, I saw real courage up topside earlier. An' it was just as' hard for him. You might've thought it was nothin' for him to have to stan' there, but then, he might've thought there was no reason for you to set up such an aireation. I dunno how many people saw them scars, but I'm willin' to bet it wasn't as many as you thought, an' them that did see 'em didn't think any less of you 'cause of them."

"Is not jus' me scars!" The boy replied. "Is not jus' that.. n' yer know why t' boys did nothin' at all?" He tilted his head a bit looking seriously at George. "It was couse they saw wot' happened to me. They'd all be runnin' n' screamin' if they could. But they saw me taken ter irons and thought.. oi... we might be ship boys ,aye, but we could still get t' be taken down there, n' then they'd be meetin' a caning. So wot' they thought then was... I's more afraid of a canin' than of t' water... an' then they stood all still."

He was not done, not by a long shot. "...That.. n'.. they'd used t' it. Doubt any has ever not had a bath where's everybody was watchin'!"

"So why did you put up such a fight? If you'd've stripped an' stood still, I'd've done it for you quick as anythin' an' we wouldn't be here now, with me likely to catch me death o' cold 'cause I'm all wringin' wet." Maybe he was expecting too much of the boy, but if nobody had high expectations, he'd never amount to anything.

".. cos' i didn' want to. Ter you.. it don't matter.. if you's stripped or not. It don't. You's history's like that. Well. mine.... mine's different. N' it matters." He did not want to say more on that and balled his hands into fists instead.

"You coulda let me run. ...then you wouldn' 'ave been all wetted." He sighed, his shoulders dropping some. "..I did mean t' get you wet.. but only couse I wos' upset with you. ... I didn't really mean to.." He chewed on his lip.

"Yer can take t' jacket if ye wan't. It'll keep yer warm. Is.. of one of t' marines any'ow." He said as an afterthought.

"No, I couldn't have let you run an' you know I couldn't." He sighed and smiled down at the lad. "You keep hold of that an' Ware here'll make sure it gets back to its owner. I've got a jacket an' dry clothes of me own, an' I need to go find 'em." He looked down at himself ruefully. "Things're diff'rent here, lad. You have to... to bend an' change, else you'll break. An' I don't want you to break."

"I won't break...." Which was a lie. He was cracking already. "...They'll flog me...n' I'll take it, n' I won't make a sound. I won't break." He repeated, resolved. "...I ain't so soft.." He spoke more quietly now, holding the offered coat still. "...I've been through bad, so I won't break." He may have said that to convince himself into believing it as much as Thompson. He managed a smile after that: "......I've bent enough that I could right fall over... jus'. You don't see it."

He was brittle, Thompson knew that much, and he thought the lad was breaking. He had to learn to give and take, that you couldn't have everything the way you wanted it, especially belowdecks, but Thompson had completely run out of ways he could tell him that. He wasn't sure the lad would understand even through other people showing it.

"I hope so, lad, I really do," he said. "I dunno how to 'splain anythin' any more, lad. I ain't bin able to make you see things the way I see 'em, even, not really."

"You're daft. George. You think I don't listen. N' yer blind too. Couse you don't see. You say you's run out o' ways on how to 'splain things to me. Like it was that It went in one ear, out t' other. You's jus' as blind as t' rest o' them. Jus' so. Jus' like t' officers." He spoke that with a sad tone in his voice. Withdrawn and as if he had given up on making anyone understand, not even George.

"I's..been good up till today. ...You'd call it a stupid reaction..I'd call it, one I had good reason for. But up till now.. I made mistakes.. but I tried. You know wot' I learnt?" He looked up, staring straight at Thompson's face, his gaze locked on Thompson's. He was serious, looked twice his age with that solemn expression. "I learnt today who m' friends were. Turn 'round.. n' don't look at Ware. ...you see them. All of them. There." He dropped his gaze finally.

"I didn't say you don't listen. I said you don't understan' - which is summat else entirely diff'rent."

He sighed and dropped to crouch so he was at eye-level with the lad. "Ain't true, that. You got a frien' - I'm here. An' folks can't be in two places at once - lots of folks are on duty still. An', well, after that scene, I reckon a lot of people are angry. Who else've you told 'bout them scars? An' even so, you could've still stood still an' got away to be upset on your own afterwards."

Why did it always seem to always be about de Guarde and what people thought about him? Thompson didn't know any more.

"You're a liar. But.. you are here." He relented, his gaze still low. "Why would they be angry?...well 'cept t' one I bit." He did not remember who it was, but it was probably a Tar. "He can be angry.. but only 'couse he'd been stickin' his fingers where they weren't at. N' I couldn't just stand. ... maybe now I would. If I was made to go. I don't know. Maybe not." He shrugged. " N'... I told nobody. ..wot' they saw, was t' middies. When I was caned. N' t' surgeon, couse he was takin' care o' me after."

He frowned. "Why did you come? What convinced ye t'?"

Thompson's face darkened. "I'm a lot of things an' I bin a lot of things, but I ain't an' I ain't never bin a liar. They'm angry at how you wasted their time, though the only person you disgraced is yourself." He sighed. "You know what courage is, though? It's havin' to do summat you really don't want to do an' mebbe feel upset over, but doin' it anyhow, without fightin' over it. An' I come down here 'cause I'm your friend an' I needed to talk to you."