Slacking off in the Sun

"S....oh.. society?" He asked thinking he finally understood what Button had meant. "..A society took you an' sent you of t' street an' onto a ship." He gazed at Button. "Is it better, if you'un without yer folk ter expect all those things from you that yer can't give em?" He asked and scowled. "Nevermind. I know you's tryin' ter skip yer duties... or...'least i've an inkling idea that you are."

Finally! "Yeah, one'f them," he said in agreement. "They took me from the foundlin' home. Um. 'S like a orph'nage, I s'pose you'd call it. For kids who ain't got no fam'ly." He laced his fingers behind his head and lay back, staring up at the sky through the tangle of rigging and past the white sails above them. "I dunno. Warn't much fun, havin' to pick oakum alla time, an' getting beat fro no reason. Eat better here an' all - three proper meals every day, an' them cooked, too."

"Here ain't havin' parents though either. ..s' not unless you consider Terpsies ter be your family." He dangled his feet and gazed over the edge, curious what he could see below, or whom.

"Did you want t' know them... or don't it matter?"He asked, wondering if it would be a sensitive topic to ask a boy without parents, or whether he'd brush it off as unimportant, as the weather of yesterday.

"'S more fam'ly than I ever had afore," Terry pointed out. "Never had 'em to know. F'r all I know, me dad was a Tar an' me mother was a whore who couldn't be bothered wiv lookin' after a kid, I dunno" He turned his head to look at de Guarde, who was silhouetted against the blue sky. "Why's it matter, anyhow?"

"It don't. " He held his hand infront of him, studying the scar that stretched on both sides of it. On the back and on his palm. "Did they let you decide if you wanted ter come here?" He dropped his hand, finding it more at ease to talk with the boy now. He could always challenge him to another race, or something else. He was not sure he was able to suggest a prank though. Probably not. Better not.

Decide? Was the boy mad? He sat up to get a better look at him. "'Course I didn't get no choice." He pulled his feet up and wrapped his arms around his legs. "Nobody don't ever get no choice," he added bitterly.

"...They do. Sometimes. They's called volunteers. Those men have taken up t' choice. N' marines.. fer example. They have some form o' choice. They don't get pressed. Know Tom? He didn't get pressed into bein' here. " He did not explain further, as Oxley's past was his own and his secrets as well. "Any'ow... did ye hear 'bouts t' Officers n' how drunk n' they were?" He did not remember whether he saw the boy among the onlookers when they arrived back at the ship.

"Well, I didn't get no choice," he said, allowing that maybe other people might have. He giggled. Who hadn't heard the officers coming aboard last night? "What 'apppened to Mister Leat? He didn't half 'ave a nice shiner, 'e didn't." And of course, Tom Oxley had been staggering along with the Marine officer's arm around his neck, trying to keep the taller man upright. And Mister Bush, practically getting carried down to his cabin...

"He got struck by a man, a Portuguese brute." The boy grinned, suddenly aware that he was one of the few that was actually present and knew the whole story. "But.. you wouldn't want to hear any about that , would you?" Oxley was drunk and thus his narrative was not as good as his own. The marines were the sort Button would probably not trust and the officers would certainly hold their peace.

"Wouldn't I?" Terry grinned at him. "'Course I would!" Who wouldn't want to hear about what the officers had been up to on shore, after all? He twisted round a bit to face de Guarde, and went to sit cross-legged, before shrugging and letting one bare leg dangle over the edge of the wooden platform they were sitting on. He wrapped an arm around a shroud, anchoring himself firmly.

"Can you promise not to tell everyone you know what I am to tell you now?" The boy made it sound much more mysterious than it was, but this was his moment after all. He was possibly the only one who knew it all and was not affected by drink either, to forget the details.

He shifted himself, made certain that a sudden sway of the ship would not dislodge him. He had no hat and thus no need to worry about one being blown of his head. Not such a bad deal, that.

Terry's eyes went round. He never got told secrets, not because nobody trusted him but because there weren't any secrets to tell, not aboard ship. he nodded eagerly.

"A'right. So where do I start?" The boy grinned, leaving Button to ponder about it some more. "Did yer know that our Lieutenant, Mister Leat. He sings like a right bird, even if he's drunk?" He gave the boy a conspirational look, and grinned.

"Mister Leat? He don't!" Terry's eyes were shining with excitement at the thought he was being told something nobody else knew, and the idea of Mister Leat singing anything was making him grin.

"Yes, He does! Real high voice too. He sings like a bell, n' he did sing when I wos there." He nodded proudly to not have missed such a rare event and also that he was one of the very few who knew about it. He felt somewhat bashful to be, for once, listened to for something good and not even trying to force it. It just happened and Button wanted to know more.

"He saw a lady up in the window, you see. He seemed to have thought her an angel! So he did. And he sang to her, possibly to wow her. Jus' .. I don't think it worked that way, no."

"Bells don't sing. They ring," Terry pointed out,. "A high voice? Mister Leat? And 'e sang for a lady?" He giggled at the idea of it, amused. He swung his leg. "How did you get to see alla this? 'Cause I don't reckon he took you wiv 'im, delib'rate."

"No, He didn't. But I jus' happened to go there. See. I wos' on me way back ter t' ship. I bought all I wanted t'. ...n' " He scowled. "I wosn't drunk like t' rest o' em." Which he did not think to elaborate further though it might sound as something of a surprise to Button. De Guarde, not drunk when he could be? Tsk.

"I wos' permitted leave though. So I was on land permitted like!!"

"You wasn't drunk? Come off it - folks allus gets drunk on a run ashore!" Terry studied the sole of his bare foot for a moment, letting his other leg swing with the motion of the ship. "Never said you wasn't 'lowed to go ashore, though, did I? One day, you gonna hafta stop thinkin' everyone's tryin' to get you in trouble and... an' stop defendin' yourself alla time."

He looked up anxiously into de Guarde's face. "You don't hafta say you was allowed ashore or things like that. Folks know when someone's 'lowed to do summat, gen'rally, y'know. Without bein' tole."

De Guarde watched Button for a few moments in silence. The boy sounded earnest. He was so used to having to excuse himself that right now, he had done it without thinking and this boy was telling him that he did not need to do that. That the folk would know. That this boy did not mean to get him in trouble ,even if De Guarde had not thought of that. Just yet.

He nodded and scoffed. "Yes,.. usually men go ashore ter get drunk, but I wasn't let to. T' only wa I was permitted ter go, see, was if I would not get drunk. S' wot' t' captain ordered." He pouted at the thought. "I had t' oblige or I'd be gray n' wrinkled 'fore i ever saw land again!"

Oh, right. Well, if the captain had he wasn't to, then it stood to reason. "Folks go 'shore for other reasons than jus' gettin' drunk," he said, though he wasn't quite sure what other reasons there could be. He didn't really have very many happy memories of life on land and thought it was more fun being on a ship.

"So... how d'you like it in Terpsy, then?" he asked curiously, the question naturally following the direction of his thoughts.

"They do. I went ter buy more ...paper ter be able to write on. An' more ink." His train of thought was interrupted by the question and he blinked at Button. He shrugged. "I'd like it better was I a middie." He said, then relented. "But.. it's...good. ...There's no ship anywhere.. where you like everythin' on it. An'... there ain't no officers you'd find ter love t' have.. so I guess she ain't half bad. Why d' ye want t' know that?"

Paper? The idea of writing was almost foreign to Terry. Mister Foxley wrote, he knew that - long lists and lists of things he bought and sold and stored and kept and issued.

"I s'pose anyone'd like it better if they was a middy. Though they got such a lot to learn. Well, I 'ave too, but I ain't goin' to get tested on it, not never, so I don't have to if I don't want." He shrugged. "I just wunnered. I mean, I like it here lots better'n I did when I was ashore, so I wunnered if you did too."

"They do learn lots. But fer all that learnin' they become someone once they pass that exam. See.. they can be lieutenants, they can even be captains and some day, maybe, if they are fortunate enough, admirals." He leaned back a little, bringing his hands behind his neck. " Even as a middie, you's a bit above others. You don't need t' fear t' Tars, couse ... well most of t' time you don't."

He paused, thinking that was sad thinking and began again: "...Back home, I'd not need to do half t' things I have ter do here. I'd have a room 's jus' as big as t' whole deck." He might've been exaggerating a little. " It was better in ways. But I knew much fewer people an' there were almost none me age around most o' the time. I dunno if I like it better here. I don't get to sleep late an' don't get ter' be fed real fine food neither."

"Seems more trouble than it's worth," Terry said, though the idea of the captain ever having been a middy was interesting. He couldn't picture it, though. The captain was practically God and the midshipmen were, well, they were officers but they got ordered around the same as Terry and the other boys did - though he'd never see a Lieutenant box a middy's ears the way the pusser liked boxing Terry's ears. And of course the Captain never got ordered around at all.

He looked at de Guarde. "You's 'avin' me on. Ain't anyone ever got a room so big as the deck o' Terpsy. An' the food 'ere ain't o bad as we 'ad where I's from - an' there's more of it and all."

"Well.. Might not be I had a room as big as that.. But.. mine was bigger'n.. some." He smiled. He hoped he did not sound like he was boasting. "...T' food here ain't nothin' compared what our cook could do." He looked almost dreamy as he remembered the days. "What we would have been served as dinner or durin' t' day. Can't ever compare. This food. Is like.. .like puttin' gold n' pebbles one to the other!"