Slacking off in the Sun

De Guarde took Button's hand. Yes, he did hesitate, and he did look at the lad in disdain for telling him he needed help. But when he could not see not even the palm of his hand infront of him, he decided it was better to try taking Button's help while it was still offered.

"'s real dark hereabouts. How d' ye even remember where's you goin'.. when you go hide?"

"You get used to it. I jus' hold me other hand out, runnin' it along the barrels an' stuff - though you gots to be careful you don't shove 'em too 'ard. Though, really, it'd take a deal of shovin' to shift one of these." He looked towards where he thought de Guarde was. "You don't mind the smell, do you? Oh. An' it's best not to come down 'ere in a storm - stuff shifts awful, in a storm. Or can do."

"don't smell as bad as t' horses do after they shat themselves silly.. or t' heads." He murmured with a grin and followed Button, though he did extend his hand as the other boy did, or he thought he did, so that he could memorize the path they were taking.

"Oh I reckon I know a good reason why not t' come down 'ere in a storm. Not unless i'd want to be crushed under one o' these things. " He shook his head. "But surely you'd not be sent down below at t' time like that anyway... so if you'd gone.. it'd be your own folly, no?"

"I never heared of anyone ever 'avin' to go down to the 'old, not in a storm, no," Terry answered. "'Ere we are. Duck down a bit an' foller me." He shook his hand free of de Guarde's and dropped to hands and knees to crawl into the hidden space, moving up as much as he could to let de Guarde in too. "I come down 'ere to fink, sometimes," he said.

He found himself momentarily disoriented and lost. It was terribly dark in here and without a hand to guide him, if he had made a few turns on the spot and he could not know where to go. He reached forward and followed the sound of the other boy's hands and feet, crawling across into the hiding place. He crawled in too, squeezed himself beside Button and blinked into the dark. It felt like having his eyes closed except that they were wide open.

"..think? ..when you's upset? That sort'o thinking?" He asked blinking again. Pitch black.

"Yeah." He was sitting on the deck, his knees bent and his arms clasped round his legs. "Or when I've got summat I need to... to puzzle out." He cocked his head a little. "You don't mind it bein' all dark, do you?"

"Sure I don't!" He huffed at Button for suggesting that he might be afraid of the dark. He was not afraid of that. If it ever bothered him, it would be for what might come out of it. But afraid of the dark, no. The dark was like a blanket that could cover you up and let you sleep in safety. Like this hiding place.

"Don't think you do either, couse you work 'ere so much." He smiled. "..t' dark's not so bad as t' naked bright light." He said simply and nodded. " It might be uncomfortable if'n you dunno who's in it, but as much as it conceals t' others.. it does you." The logic was undisputable, was it? "There mus' be lots o' rats around here. D' ye ever catch 'em?"

"Mhmm. Never thought of it like that," Terry admitted, and brightened. "Rats? Oh, yes. We earns a bit for the skins, like. Some of the sailors tell us that on long v'yages, folks eat the rats. Dunno if I b'lieve that or not, though." He rested his chin on his knees. "Would you ever eat a rat, Buckles?" He felt a little self-conscious as he said the nickname, but in the dark the other boy couldn't see his face.

"I would." He leaned back, bumping against the wooden wall behind him, since he did not exactly see how close it was. "...I've cought rats 'fore." He murmured thoughtfully, wondering if he was glad he could not see Button's face or curious at what his reaction would be. If anything, he was glad however, to be called Buckles by him. The nick name he was still very much grateful to Chase for. It was not his name, it had been chosen so that people would not call him by it, but then it became his name anew, something special and something his.

"Think rat's meat.. is meat. 's like uh... rabbit, jus' real small. Not t' taste that is.. jus' how you could imagine it being.. ye know. Would you eat it?"

Terry nodded, even though he couldn't be seen in the darkness. "Yeah, I'd eat it. 'S only meat, ain't it?"

He thought he rather liked de Guarde. Or at least, the boy that he was now, who was rather serious and quiet, though not always. "You got any special frien' aboard?" he asked.

"Special friend?" He looked in Button's direction, but then scolded himself because it was clear he could not really see him, not before, not now. "Wot'cha mean by that?" He asked, unsure he understood the question. Did Button ask about a friend he considered as best, as only, as... well someone he would tell secrets to?

"It's only meat, rats meat. An'.. can be good , better n' starvin'. That's for sure."

"I mean, a partic'lar frien', that you talk to an' do things wiv," Terry replied. "Like me an' Fingers. An' Jacky Fisher. That you spend time wiv, when you ain't on watch, that sorta thing." He grinned. "Was jus' wond'rin', any'ow. Everyone oughta have a frien', I fink, see."

"..Um.. well.. I do talk lots.. n' lots wif' someone." He paused and pulled his legs back up to his chest. "e's a marine." He nodded again. "...though we dun' do things much.. couse he's a marine and I ain't so... wot' we do's summat either o' us can or knows how t'." He shrugged. "...I do learn t' marine stuff.. ye see... an...an' ...well is easy fer ye t' say. Ye who's got a friend always."

"Ev'ryone oughta have a frien'," Terry repeated. "'M glad you 'ave, too. Even if 'e is a M'rine." It was a strange idea, that, for a sailor to be friends with a Marine, though he though he and the other lads were friendly enough with the drummers. That was a bit different, though.

" So... what friends d' ye have then?" He asked lifting his hand infront of his face. Though he could not see it, and he thought he smacked Button lightly with it, though not on purpose.

"Ye've named one.. but you say.. ye's havin' more n' one... so. .spill it." Not that he could expect to know all the names that Button would mention. "...n'..if you's got a marine fer a friend too... do say who."

"Me? Well, there's Fingers, and Jacky Fisher - I come here wiv Jacky, from the S'ity. Them's me two partic'lar frien's. Then there's Danny an' Johnny. It was Johnny's shoulder you done for 'im that day. An' there's the M'rine drummers, though I don't know them so well. Y'know, the Shepherd twin and Tom Oxley. And there's all the other boys, too."

He poked de Guarde back, amiably, for the light slap to his leg.

"Mhm. Any o' them friends yer thinkin' ye should not 'ave been friends with?" He asked and scoffed then reached out to smack the boy again. Lightly and playfully of course, since he did not mean to do it to harm but to play. He had near jumped and squirmed when he was poked and he did not want Button to realise that he was ticklish.

"I know t' twins , n' Tommy. I know you an'.... uh...you didn'a bring me 'ere couse Johnny wants ter have a word or two 'bout wot' transpired then?" Though he was perhaps joking.

"No." He punched de Guarde lightly in the arm. "Why'd you think that?" he asked. "I mean, that there might be one of 'em I oughtn't be friends wiv? An' no... though he got a proper leatherin' 'cause 'e couldn't o 'is duties right, the day after." He shrugged. "We've all 'ad that, though. 'S part of bein' a boy, that."

"...Well there's always one. Ain't it?" He smiled and punched back, but missed Button completely.He blinked as his hand moved through thin air. He paused and tried again, this time his aim true. He moved to poke Button's side. "..he's gotten a leatherin'? ..You're pullin' me leg... all i did wos' bruise him some!"

"Yeah, mebbe, but we's still frien's - an' even if I ain't good frien's wiv on of 'em, someone else is." He flinched a very little as his side was poked; he hadn't expected that. "He couldn't move 'is arm right the day after, which meant 'e could do 'is work prop'ly. So 'e got a leatherin' for it." He shrugged. "Warn't 'is fault, o' course, but folks don't lissen to us, see, not for things like that. We's only boys, y'see."

"You's only boys. Hm." He reached out again trying to remember where he'd encountered Button first, he ran smack into his cheek with his hand, but luckily not so hard. He inched his hand closer and yanked at his hat, pulling it over his eyes, or what he hoped he did.

"Don' need ter lissen.. Button. I dun' think. Jus' show 'em? IF'n he'd gone ter t' surgeon, I'm sure he would be got light duties. Or 'least a confirmation n' all."

"Hey!" He twisted away, batting at the hand that reached for his hat. "Gerroff!" He reached out blindly, hoping to poke de Guarde in the side. "Tell the surgeon? 'E don't care 'bout the likes of us. Prolly wouldn't lissen any'ow."

How could he explain that the boys kept away from the surgeon if they could because they were used to being dismissed by those with even a bit of authority, unless the men concerned were petty officers or folk like the bosun? Though, the surgeon was a slightly different category... but nobody in Terry's acquaintance went to see the surgeon unless they were actually ill.

De Guarde jumped and laughed then smacked his own hand over his mouth to shut it. He scowled at Button and scooted away from him. This was not exactly possible to do, far, since the hiding place was rather small.

"T' surgeon would care if'un you was hurt. You's daft ter stray 'way from him jus' couse you think he wouldn't care!" He shook his head. " this ship's surgeon would take care o' you , too. Jus' try sometime. See how it goes. He can't hurt you, can 'e?"

"It's..." he trailed off, trying to think how he might explain it. "See, the surgeon's a gennelman, ain't 'e, like the l'tenants and midshipmen an' all. An', well, it ain't so comf'table talkin' wiv him, see. But folks like... like Mister Evans an' Mister Barrow, they come from the lower deck, same's us. An', well, you can't go t'the surgeon for light duties for... for somefin' like that. You jus't can't. Not 'less you's really ill or somefin', see."

"You's jus' terribly 'fraid of a surgeon." The lad murmured and shook his head. "...Sure you don't need ter go to one fer jus' about everything. That'd be kind of silly an'... an' it'd probably go from yer pay, so you'd really not earn anythin'. And if you were there so often they wouldn't really believe there's summat wrong with you when it would be real bad."

He paused and reached to Button, this time snatching his hat, but he made no attempt to run off with it. If he had tried he would have probably been seeing stars by now. "T' Tars go ter t' surgeon... he really dun' bite , you know. Jus' you come when you really need 'im. He might be all prissy n' upset.. but.. he can't order ye t' be flogged like an officer can."