A dirty business

"I c'n make me own mind up about things, y'know. If'n they don't want to talk to you, they don't have to. But not ever'one think it's right for a Marine and a sailor t'be friends, of course. An' I don't think it's just some of the Marines who think so."

He shrugged. "I don't mind what they think. I c'n make up me own mind about folks, after all - I'm old enough, ain't I?"

"Well I ain't a normal, standard kin' of Tar! Though me former cap'n would agree ter wot' ye said fully. He'd be real against that. " He nodded smiling: "But We 'um not on Confidence. Nay. We'um on Terpsichore, n' Bolitho didn' say he'd mind, did he?"

He straightened somewhat: "Is.. odd in what circumstances we started talkin'.. .really. One would think it would be anything BUT that happenin' in those."

"I don't think Captain Bolitho minds at all.. An' I never said you was a normal kind of Tar." Thompson grinned - at least the lad had come to be able to call himself a Tar, even sort of.

"An' I bet, when we started talkin', you never thought you'd call me a friend. I know I didn't think that, neither."

"No. I admit, I haven't thought I'd call you anything but a marine. And less that I would teach you, or write for you. None of that. Thought I'd hate t' whole ship as is....but,.. guess I mus' admit to my error of judgement on' that." He smiled.

"N'.. it does feel fine to have a friend.. ye know. I can talk t' ye...n' It feels right. N' I don't fear that ye will suddenly tell it ter someone else. No?... I mean, you won't right?" He looked for a moment worried that he had made the wrong choice. After that though his face had cleared into a small smile.

"I dunno, is how friends are..is it?" He looked more for guidance to Thompson this time.

"Aye, that's how friends are. I won't tell anyone, an' now you know I won't. You'm learnin' all the time, even if you don't know it."

He tugged at the bandage a little. "It's sad that you haven't had a friend before, you know. An' I'm glad that you c'n call me a friend now."

It was strange, but nice, how de Guarde had begun to trust him, someone from such a different background and who was nearly twice his own age, and could call him a friend.

"Thank you." He smiled brightly, his eyes showing how glad he had been, even if this was the worst place to be, so smelly and dirty and unpleasant. He was upset about having to clean after the horses, but atleast for the moment he was also forgetting that and feeling glad. The fight he had with Oxley and his dirty little trick had made the young lad sour faced but the unexpected visit of the marine, repaired some of that damage.

"s' allright. " He shrugged. "I've had other things.. back home." He looked up: "Wonder wot' they'um doin' now. T' middies. N' wot' we are to do when we arrive at our destination. ..n'.." He smiled as he turned again at the marine. " If I'll have any of me time today free. ..t' lieutenant had been rather strict in havin' me come ter him once I've done me work 'ere. Though. .why'd he want ter.. see me afterwards.."He motioned to the horse as if to indicate the smell. "'s beyond me. "

And his attention was then on dragging the bucket away to the entrance from where he would later try carry it up. "Wot' bout you? Johnson been any more lax on you?"

"Johnson? Lax?" Thompson looked at the boy as though he'd grown a second head. "O' course not! I reckon me kit's damn perfect b'now. Though I'm goin' to see if I can shift me stuff to another sea-chest. Vinin' just shoves his stuff in all any-old-how an 'don't care that he crumples my stuff up as well as his own."

He sighed. "I'm goin' to see what I c'n do about cuttin' me other shirt down for you. I'll prob'ly have done it by Monday. If you'm sure you want it, that is."

De Guarde grinned:" s' never perfect fer t' likes o' Johnson. I'm sure he'd say t' brand you n' secon' old kit was badly polished or cleaned or pipeclayed!"

His grin held as Thompson continued with the complaint about the man with whom he shared his sea chest. "Ah, Chase 'ere is ..sort of well enough with his own n' 's not like it matters much if I have it a bit crumpled. As long as it's all there. LIke on t' list. But ye'um.. ye can't ask Vinin' if he could jus' take a bit more care? Would be less work to be done on his own kit n' clothes if he didn't shove em in like it were a crow's nest."

Once the bucket was clear out of the way, already full enough that it were in need of emptying, he walked across to where they had stored some of the hay for the horses. He'd shoed a rat away, and another hopped, squeeled and ran away. "If you'm sure ye want ter give it ter me.. then aye." He nodded with a small heave. "I'd like it very much."

"I have asked him," Thompson said. "He stops f'r a day - two if'n I'm lucky - then forgets and starts all-on just shovin' it back it again. It's all right for you - you don't have inspections like we do."

He shrugged. "I don't mind about that shirt. I can't wear it any more, 'cause of where it's worn thin, but I c'n cut the worn bits out an' make it smaller an' it'll do all right for you. The most of it's still real good cloth, like."

"I'll trus' yer judgement n' skill of sewin'. " De Guarde nodded. " n' as fer yer seachest fellow... hmm.. don't know what ter say. He don't even do it better with threat of Johnson.. then nothin' ll change him! Ye really bes' ask someone ter switch with you. ..Maybe another like 'im? "

He dropped the first armful of hay beside the stallion. " Are there many marines as sloppy as.. Vinin'? I mean in ..jus' throwin' in their clothes no matter?"

"No, I don't think there are. An' I really don't know how he gets away with it. I'm goin' to get Miss Emily to curl up on his jacket one o' these days an' see if that'll learn him."

He chuckled. "Like to see his face when he finds cat fur all over his coat."

"Hah, don't think he'll be any way happy." He grinned. "Wonder where Emily's been. She's sure wise not to come down 'ere. Not a place for a lady. Even if there's rats to catch." He glanced at one such, who had been ignoring the two perhaps believing that they could not see her.

"I can only get ye a rat fer t' coat." He chuckled. " Though.. that'un would've been dead."

"Don't want rats, dead or otherwise. Might catch summat."

He looked at the horses. "I know you'm busy an' all, but I was hopin' we could have a bit of a talk about... about how things are goin', and how you'm findin' it all. An' if you like Terpsy any more these days."

"Ah, not from t' ship's rats I think. If they were sick, then ye'd not be talkin' ter all t' healthy marines n' tars n' officers. We'd all be sick, I'm sure." He looked at the stallion then with a quick glance to the other side where any man could enter if they wished to see the horses and finding it empty, he crossed the distance between himself and the Marine. He picked the broom so that if any would come, he were able to quickly make it seem as if he was hard at work.

"Well then. I'um here. N' we can talk." He answered. "N' t' horses will sure be quiet about wot we say."

Thompson grinned at the boy. "Don't slack off too much," he said. "It ain't a good habit to get into, 'yknow."

He looked tt the youngster curiously. "I know I've given you a lot to think about since we first started talkin', an' I'm sure you've done some thinkin' about it all. Do you think you understand any better all what I was tryin' to say, or have you still got questions an' stuff you don't get?"

"I don't slack right now!.. n'.. s' called takin' a bit of rest. 's hard work, scrubbin n' rubbin' n' cleanin around t' horses. Hard n' smelly. " He answered before stretching his limbs a bit, as he'd not taken a good proper seat ever since he was waiting for the dressing to be done. And even that one wasn't all that relaxing.

He studied his palms with his uncovered eye, seeing that there was less of a .. depth feel, when he could not use both to see. It came as a surprise and had gotten him missing a couple of times before he was growing more accustomed to the dressing.

"You've given me far too much ter think 'bout. N' everytime we talk, ye add up a little more. Ye said I had to.. accept wot' I am at t' moment. N' make t' bes' of it, right? "It wasn't as much a question as it might've sounded.

"Yesterday night..when i went fer fresh air I wasn't thinkin'. If I were, well I'd not have gone up all alone. Wot' with what happened before." He looked towards the stallion. "But...I..still went. Because there I could .."He blushed and looked down. " I know wot' I am... still, i wanted to play like I wos' summat else. Jus' ter ease me heart right?..." And why was he even telling that? It wasn't something Thompson had asked at all. He sighed.

"Ah." That explained something, anyway. "An' yes, I do think you have to accept what you are right now, an' make the best of it. 'Cause you'll learn more about us folks by living on the lower deck than by livin' all the time in the middies' berth." He smiled. "Do you know, you called yourself a Tar a moment ago, or as near as anythin' to it?"

"I did?" He paused trying to remember back when he had done it. He was sure it wasn't a direct admission for he'd have known. But when then?

"N' ... i still can dream, can't I?..When I'm alone, like. N' not doin' any duty that is."

"Just... don't let your dreamin' get in the way of what's really goin' on. An' you did... you said that you ain't a normal kind of Tar, which you ain't, but then I don't reckon Cob is, neither. He's... he's a natural - makes things look real elegant."

He ruffled the boy's hair a little. "So, apart from scrappin' with us lobsters, how are you findin' it?

"I can dream at night..when everybody's asleep. No?" He frowned. "Can't even do much thinkin' durin' t' day.." Ah, Thompson was right. He had mentioned a Tar and referred to himself. Perhaps not directly but in a way admitting to being one. What a surprise there. Atleast to the boy.

"Cob's good. ...n' ye know 'think I told ye already bu' still. Got a new name sort o'. Down 'ere. Buckles." He smiled. "So'um they don't call me by me name.. 'cos that's not given fer jus' about anyone."

He hesitated and scowled quickly starting to straighten his hair. In his eyes though, there was still a twinkle of merryment, saying that he wasn't upset about his hair being messed up.

"Well. Is smelly, hard ter sleep with all t' men around makin' a sound louder than the officers shoutin' durin' t' day. S' strange ter share a chest with sum'one. N'... was a surprise they helped me out like. Had my hammock brought up." He looked at Thompson.

"Is a lot different than with t' middies. N' lots harder ter get places sometime.. being small. Ye can't just appear there n' have everybody stand out of yer way, if ye know wot' i mean?"

"Aye, I know it can be hard to get used to. An' o' course they'll help you out. You're one of 'em, even if you don't understand what-all that means. Do you understand it any better now, though?"

The things that de Guarde had mentioned Thompson had stopped thinking about, years ago, and it was a little strange to realise that they were things the boy hadn't had to deal with before.

" Well um'.. I understand that.. they'um lot more bothered if one of theirs.. gets in trouble with someone who isn't.. a Tar, than if Tar's argue amongst themselves." He nodded. " I ..wos' surprised that they helped me that way. But.. I guess is...because we'um in t' same mess?"

He looked up. "Is differen't n'.. well for one you have bigger men ter stand on ye side!" He grinned. ".. Though... ye'um got protection as a middie that you don' as a Tar. Like... you can't shout at someone ter do somethin'.. if yer...a Tar. But if a middie , that'd be easy. Chase is followed by others. But not cos' he's a middie.. n' he can loose that.. um, way of having people follow wot' he says. While a middie, sort of can't loose t' authority no?.. Harder t' loose t' obedience.. cos' he can flog n' a Tar or a Lobster can't!"

There was a lot there, all right. Thompson had to choose his next words carefully.

"So, if Cob can't have someone flogged and a middy or an officer can, why do folks choose to follow him and do what he says?"

"Don't know.. well. Thought firs' it was fear. But.. thinkin' of it.. he's kind. Right? If it were fear, then surely he'd not have been kind but vile. He'd push people 'round or have his lads that'd do it for him. " He looked thoughtful. "Now.. bein' kind but having others do his dirty work.. could be one way...'since they'd do wot' he says.. if he said it.. but, well I don't think that's just it."

He shook his head: "'tleast not for wot' the old Tar's are concerned. T' new could be frightened that way, but not t' old! .."

He crossed his hands over his chest. "So..don't know. Maybe well, mabye he's friends with em? Didn't see that they owed him much or summat. I know I'd see that by now! Atleast a hint to it!"

"He's kind, you say. Helps folks out, explains things, encourages folks. Now, if he was an officer, d'you think he'd have the gratin' rigged if'n he could help it?"

Well, it was one way of getting the lad to think about what made a leader, anyway.