Boys at Play, 2nd June

"Wot' time?....oh then?" He scowled though he had known what the time was, even the first time around. "I don't think I would'a gotten in trouble. N' .. it was real mean o' you though... not unexpected." He looked at Button's hands and at how the string was entwined between the fingers.

"..s' a'right. You ain't obliged ter be friendly or stuff with me, yer know? We's only on t' same ship. Not bein' paid extra fer gettin' along."

"Well, if you'd've comed in, I'd've got it worser, or you would've - or both." He held his hand out again. "Right crost the palm, 'e does it. 'Urts like bloody 'ell, an' you can't do nuffin after for ages wivout it 'urtin - and 'e don't care, so's it goes on 'urtin' for longer."

He poked de Guarde. "You don't 'ave to be friends wiv me neither, only seems you want to be, a bit."

"Oh.. if you'd got it worser n'.. well then I guess it wos' best I'd not gone in." He squirmed when poked in the side, though he did not mean to. Nor did Button mean to tickle him either of course. It just so happened.

"...Can't be a friend with a friend who doesn' think or want ye' as a friend. Ain't that so?" he asked rubbing his side.

"You what?" Terry said, confused by de Guarde's final pronouncement. "Never said I din't want you to be a frien'... only mebbe you don't want to be frien's wiv me. I mean, me bein' wot I am an' all." He held the criss-crossed pattern of string out towards de Guarde. "'Ere, you want to 'ave another go at this?"

"N' wot's that that they are? A boy?.. s' you thinkin' jus' couse you're a boy..?" He asked and then shuffled closer propping himself better on his elbow as he tried to pinch the strings in the right way to take them of Button's hands.

"...uh.. is that how it'll not break down?" He asked when he began to shift his fingers through the pattern.

"'T ain't jus' 'cause I'm a boy," Terry said, feeling a little defensive. "Mostly, it's 'cause I's a S'ity boy - telled you that t'other day, didn't I?" He looked down at what de Guarde was doing. "Aye, like that. An' let me take it off'n you again - I'll show you how."

"... I'm friends with Thompson. "Which he could say proudly. "N' he's a boy o' t' streets.. or was." He pointed that out. "He's a marine now. A very good marine." He smiled fondly and held his hands out so that Button could take the loop of string off. " He wos' there. I think. After I got...punish'd. N' I was in t' sick bay. He was there. I near didn't know... just.. I almost forgot but.. I knew... somehow." He chewed on his lip.

"You don' think I's a sort t' be friends with, 'couse I'm high 'bove your station then...?"

"'E's a M'rine." Terry couldn't picture any of the lobsters ever being street urchins like him. "'E sounds arright," he said, shifting position a bit so he could take hold of a couple of loops of the spunyarn and lift it from de Guarde's hands, opening it into another pattern.

He sat back, holding the new pattern out for de Guarde to look at. "It's... It's like you's at th'top o' the mainmast an' I'm down in the 'old, sorta," he said, fumbling for a way to describe it. "I mean, I know you's a Tar now, but, well, you can do stuff I can't. An' you ain't 'ad to... to work since you was real young, neither. Lucky you."

"..Aye... I needn't work when I was young." He murmured. That was it. He could not be a friend with Button or any of the ship boys because he was not like them. They were poor and they had a hard life, he was rich and though with much less company he was well fed, did not need to work.

"...well." He concentrated on the strings and tried to work out the pattern then shifted his fingers in again, slipped them about and then took the string from Button. "...He don't mind it. You know. Wot' I was or am. He's been like you jus' he'd never been in a Society. Wot' I know, he wasn't. But I ain't tellin' you more, couse if you wanna know, you'll ask him. Jus'...I don't mind wot' he is neither an' he don't mind wot' I am....an..I'm glad he don't." He shrugged faintly. ".. if yer not used t' work.. it's twice as hard t' do it once yer told t'... t' sort o' work a Tar does. It hurts more, n'.. it's more tirin'."

"You's lucky," Terry said, holding the string out till de Guarde had worked out how to take it. He grinned at the other boy, somewhat shyly. "Why d'you want be friends wiv me, any'ow? I can't... I can't do anyfing what you can, 'cept goin' aloft an' a bit o' sailorin'."

"I ain't lucky Button. ...don't say that. Wosn't lucky when I came t' serve on t' other ship. Wosn't lucky...even when at 'ome. Food n' comfort. That ain't everything you know. Sounds like it is.... but it ain't." But again, it was a spoiled child speaking, was it not? One who had too much, Button just could not understand because there was nothing to understand.

"...Wot' can I do..Button? Wot' can I do, that's so special? Couse if you mean, anger t' officers.. I'll tell you I'd love it, if I did not know how t' do it." He winced. "really would."

"Well, seems lucky t'me. Not 'avin' to pick oakum an' all, an' knowin' your mum'n'dad an' all." He wondered how de Guarde could possibly think he wasn't lucky, having nice clothes and enough food every day - and nice food at that, too.

"You can read an' write, can't you?" He bit his lip. "If you don't want to get the officers angry, don't go doin' things that'll make 'em angry. When folks tell you to do summat, do it." He trailed off. "I mean, when the officers know you's s'posed to do summat, don't bunk out of it or fight it. I only bunk off sometimes, when there ain't anyfin' else I can do - or when the pusser's bein' proper mean."

"..Guess.. from that point o' view..I am lucky but..." How could he argue about it with Button. The lad did not know how much he valued, wished for having the same sort of fun as the boys did, the laughter and camedarie that he could only dream of. Button was lucky, he just did not know it.

He shrugged with a sigh. The lad would also not understand, like nobody did, when he threw a fit about being stripped and washed infront of anyone. He found himself shuddering at the thought and already dreaded the time when they would be yet again ordered to come on deck and strip.

"You's t' one t' talk. You're not 'zactly happy t' be around t' purser either. It's jus' you don't ...can't get into jus' as much trouble." He mumbled instead.

"I get in trouble alla the time. Jus'... not wiv the officers. You... you ever seen me not do summat I ought to, when there's officers around to see?"

He reached out to take the string pattern from de Guarde again. "You... you looks awful lonely, y'know," he said, a little hesitantly in case his words were going to result in him getting hit or something.

Yes. That's what he was. Atleast Button saw that much. He was all to eager to please and join, and yet all to afraid that after any game it was the last one he might have been able to be part of and even then, there were not many games he could, thought he would be allowed to join in the first place.

"I've seen you doin' some skulkin' twice now." He murmured quietly. He could not protest to what Button said. Much as he wanted, he could not. "...I is. "

"Don't tell, will you?" Terry said, feeling suddenly nervous. He didn't mind if the other boys knew - they all skived off occasionally, after all, but Buckles was an unknown quantity where things like that were concerned.

"Why's you all lonely, then?" he asked, heedless of whether the question was tactful or not.

"I won't." When he had first come on board, he might have used this very knowledge to get things from Button. This time, he did not considered the option, or if he did, he did not think on it further. It would not be fair and it would make enemies of the boys that.. that he wanted to be friends with.

"...'couse.." Was it not obvious? "..I'm ...." He bit his lip and turned quiet.

Terry relaxed and found he could breathe again. For one horrible moment, he'd thought de Guarde was going to bounce up like a rabbit and run off to the nearest petty officer and get him, Terry, in trouble again.

"'Cause what? You's too shy? You don't like us? You bin telled to keep 'way from us?" Terry was mystified how anyone could be lonely in a ship full of people.

"Couse..." He frowned and lowered his gaze. "...I's ... I's had bad experience on m' other ship 'bout trustin' Tars but .. but that's not really t' case. Is couse.." He was shy? Maybe even that.

"I dunno.. if you'd accept me.. or even want me there. I always feel like.. I'll do summat and you'll throw me out . Or... summat will happen. You tole me yourself. I don't belong. I'm not suppose to be with you lot... 's why you don't come if'un I'm in t' sick bay for something. Couse I'm not like one of you. You'd go fer Chase, couse he is, you'd bring him a mugfull o' drink. But.. he's one of you. An' I'm not. That's why.... I 's not a Tar,...but not a middie either. I jus' don't fit..."

"Oh." Terry didn't know quite what to say to that and dropped the string, feeling awkward. "I... Oh." He didn't know what it was like to not fit anywhere; he'd always fit, whether it was in the workhouse or at the Marine Society or even here, aboard Terpsy. "You want to fit, though?" he said, making a guess. Though quite what the officers would think if the other boy started behaving like a powder monkey was anyone's guess!

"....Don't matter does it. Even if I'd do, or I do...'s not like it's up t' me." He looked away from Button. Talking about it did not help. He only felt more alone now, and had had to think of Thompson to make the feeling easier. But even then, thinking of the marine, reminded him that it was just that man who came and he sighed. "Nevermind aye? ..it was jus' a stupid thought o' mine. I know my place."

"Ain't bein' stupid. Well. Not any more'n usual," Terry said. "Nobody didn't ought to be... to be lef' out like that. Not for... for summat they din't do." He twisted his hands together nervously. "It's jus'... don' want the officers to get us in trouble f'r... f'r makin' you be like us an' all, see."

"Be like you?.. T' officers made me a Tar, didn't they? ..s' their fault I'm in t' company I'm at." He paused. "Mean no offense by that but.. if they had it 'gainst that.. then.. then they should not have put me 'fore t' mast!" He smiled faintly. "..n' I speak like this anyway. ..so's.." He crossed his hands over his chest, with well made him lie down on his side fully.

Terry shrugged again. He seemed to be doing that lot lately. "Pusser finks I's a liar. If 'e tells the officers that, reckon they'd let you be frien's wiv me?" He couldn't really understand why de Guarde had been disrated, but he had been, though the boy was equally sure that de Guarde would be re-rated just as soon as the officers though he'd learned to behave, or stopped doing whatever it was that had made them disrate him in the first place.

"T' officers didn' care wot' I said about summon' throwin' me over board till recently. I don't think they'll care wot' sort o' influence I'm gettin, as long as I'm outta their hair." Which he thought was just as well. They did not think of re-rating him. Not soon, not ever. They had him flogged publicly, humiliated just as well. They did not want him a midshipman because , in his opinion, they hated him.

"Don't think they care wot' company you are.. or wot' you might've done." He reasoned.