Slacking off in the Sun

"Oh. No, I think he didn' get smacked by that Portuguese man. His wife tried ter stop 'im but it was like she was feather. So light.. wot' he shrugged 'er off." He nodded. "..'wos amusin' ter see it happen though you better swear you don't tell noone I said so." He peered at the deck. "..I dunno how much t' officers remember.. really."

"Arready said I ain't goin' to tell nobody," Terry pointed out. "You are s'spicious, ain'tcha?" He clasped his hands around his bare shin. "If the officers was as drunk as all that, they prob'ly don't 'member nuffink any'ow."

"I dunno. Mister Leat sure remembers havin' a shiner.. couse he has one." He looked at Button. It was weird to talk with someone near his age and not break off into a fight. He remembered the little misunderstanding that almost turned bloody and certainly lead to some smelly tasks. But he did not think that he would get into a similar situation with Buttons. Just yet. Hopefully not even later. "..i's been taught you ought t' be suspicious o' things .. you know. ..couse you can never trust someone fully. 'specially if they's a Ta........" He bit his lip. "Well.. that's wot' I was thought in m' old ship. So comes down ter.. bein' a habit now."

"Well... Wonder if 'e 'members 'ow 'e gottit?" Terry pondered, and pushed his hat back a bit to scratch at his head. He grinned. "'Means you can't trust y'rself, then if you can't trust a Tar, y'know. Silly. Stupid thing any'ow - there's always more Tars in a ship than officers, ain't there?"

"They is.. but that's why a Tar gets hanged if he strikes an officer. Couse... well if they weren't all t' officers would be beat at t first moment's notice." He stuck his tongue out at Button. "I wasn't a Tar when I was taught that. I was a middie. An'.. so wos' t' other boys I knew. I didn' talk wit' t' shipboys.. n' Tars.. not unless I needed ter tell 'em t' do summat or.... uh.. other reasons."

Saying that, albeit rather vaguely, he glanced at Button again. "..Ye better keep from t' officers if they's not feelin' well. They're allready mean folk, but feelin' under t' weather.. they'd be murderous then!"

"You fink I dunno that?" Terry grinned. "You ain't bin roun' Mister Foxley too much, 'ave you?" He swung his dangling leg idly. "'S more fun bein' one o' us, though, not 'avin' to stuff your 'ead silly wiv all that learnin'."

".. I dunno. When I grows up.. if I stay a Tar, I'll ferever be poor, you know. N' my parents won't like it at all if they hear I disgraced m'self. " He shrugged, gazing at the sky. "...'s easier ..mentally.. harder physically.. but.. with much less a future than if'n I became an officer. I'd got more ter live on then. You see. An' that means fer a better livin' anyhow. Better food too!"

"So? There's prize money and stuff." Terry grinned at the other lad. "Be rich 'nough if we take some prizes, won't we?" He shrugged. "Though, really, who wouldn't like to be an officer, really?"

"More prize money if'n you're an officer still." He reasoned and shrugged. "Ain't certain we get any though. ...we could be unlucky , see.. or. .. I dunno. Ain't never certain you'll get prize money! Never." He stood up and stretched his legs.

"..Anythin' of importance happened while we was all on land?" He did not think that Bolitho noticed one sober boy amongst the arrivals, but knew he could not have right come up and boasted about that to the man. So, it was better he was satisfied with the fact he bought himself some useful paper and ink.

"True. Can't 'ave everythin' though - and why do they need so much money when they's rich anyhow?" He tipped his head back, looking up at the other boy. "Nah. Anythin' 'portant ever 'appen in 'arbour?" He chuckled. "Think they'd tell me if there was, any'ow?"

"'couse.... bein' rich is an expensive livin'. You have balls and dinners, and visits o' your friends.. and yer need t' have clothes that are different. Like t' women... they can't appear at a place always in t' same dress. It ain't proper an' it says.. she's real poor. She might not be invited ter a party again.. or sum'in.. I think." Which probably to Button sounded anything but a good reason to be dressed in a very expensive new dress, day by day.

He sat down again, feeling restless, but not bored. He enjoyed this conversation more than he dared admit. And yet again he had to say that Thompson was right. Talking to other people showed that they were not so bad. He had yet to be stabbed in the back for it, all except the time when he was made swimming.

Terry was baffled and knew he looked it. What in the world was a ball - apart from the round object shaped a bit like an apple that he and the other boys had sometimes played with, back in the foundling home? And who had so much money that they could afford to waste it buying clothes? There was much more important stuff to spend money on, after all. Like food.

He gave up. "I ain't never goin' to get me 'ead around it, y'know. On'y sort of place I know is the foundlin' 'ome, or Terpsy 'ere, where folks wear the same clothes alla time 'cause that's all they got." He shrugged, and adjusted his statement a bit. "Well, 'cept here, where folks 'ave two or three shirts an' trousers to choose from. First new clothes I got was to bring wiv me when I join' Terpsy."

"You never saw t' people.. of nobility that got dressed all bright colour and all that.. n' rode in carriages n'all? ..." He knew Button had to see atleast some of such people that he could imagine how things were. "Or saw a gentleman ride up on 'is horse?" He asked again, quite bemused as how the boy could not understand.

Or perhaps he could or should understand. Button was not born in a family that was well to do. He did not even have a family. New clothes, that was more foreign to him, surely. More pairs, even more so.

He shrugged again, feeling discomfited. "No-o. Not really. We wasn't 'lowed out o' the Foundlin' 'Ome. First time I lef' it was when I was took to the S'ity, see. Though, there was some real sights an' things on the way, but there was a awful lot to see. Couldn't look at everythin', could I?"

"No. It would be too much fer someone who'd never seen anythin' else. ...but.. you was in t' home fer... fer ever till then? ...How could you never have gone past their walls. I can't believe you. You jus'.. lived in there?... Did you jus' play n'.. do nothin'?" Because, what else could a boy do confined in a large abode, or a mansion of sorts where there were many children.

"Don't 'member anythin 'fore then, no," he said, shaking his head. "Play? Had to work, us - doin' polly. Um. Pickin' oakum - y'know." He indicated the stout shrouds running higher up, to the crosstrees. "Pickin' apart old ship's ropes. Same thing ev'ry day. They use it for caulkin' an' stuff."

"...you worked.. all day?" The boy blinked and studied Button's hands. Even they were rougher than his own, used to hard work rather than good life. "..but surely there were good times too. Summat for you, couse you were kids? Did anybody come ..uh. .ever t' t' Foundlin' home?"

Terry nodded. "All day... 'cept Sundays. Useta get a long ol' sermon, tellin' us how lucky we was to 'ave a roof over our heads an' a bed to sleep in. Was borin' as all hell, that was. Sometimes we'd get to play a bit, but mostly it was workin' and keepin' quiet."

He wasn't comfortable talking about it, not really, but de Guarde seemed so... interested. It was strange that, talking to someone his own age, or a bit older, who didn't know about foundling homes and the like.

"Pardon' me sayin' that but... that's a strange life." As was Thompson's and he was starting to believe, as was much of the lower deck's. He had the privilege and the curse of learning of it, by becoming one of them and yet having a life so different that it could as well have been a night and day thing.

"...Should we be goin' down?" He asked then gazing at the deck again, and at the little people there.

"Yourn's stranger," Terry replied, and scrambled to his feet, holding onto the shrouds lightly as he swayed with the ship's motion that was even wilder up here. "Can go down if you want. I don't min' either way."

"Ain't so!" He protested and took a step away from the edge. "I don't really care whether we go down or stay 'ere. S' more... what we ought t' or not." He glanced at Button. "Though.... they ain't lookin' fer ye. Are they?"

"So what if they are?" Terry asked. "It'll only be Mister Foxley and 'e ain't worth fussin' over." He glanced up. "Could go up a bit higher. So long as we don't distract the lookout."

"I'm fer it, if you dare it." The lad grinned looking up. "Ain' saying anything 'bout avoidin' duty right there, Button. Even if you know you is!" He took hold of a rope glancing at the lad.

"Ah shurrup!" Terry was grinning as he reached for the shrouds and swung himself around them to scramble up towards the crosstrees - the higher platform. "Never said as I was, did I?"

"Sure you did." He followed Button's example and was quick on his tail to move higher. He was quite comfortable at that height, and did not fear that he might loose footing and fall. "You ever done any prank down 'ere on t' ship?"