24th May, Morning - Deck

"They wouldn't need to ask. They'd jus' need to tell you to - like when we gets to priddyin' the ship. It'd be your duty then. Part of bein' the crew, see, that. Makin' Terpsy all nice an' smart for the Captain's inspection on Sunday, see."

He relaxed and leaned back against the ship's side. "Aye, I know Oxley. He's a good lad. Well-meanin' an' all, even if he does let his mouth run away with him, times."

".Think it's a much cleaner work than any of them deck rubbing or privy cleaning, so I might even take to them telling me." He smirked at Thompson. "Just need to make sure that we're as much in clear view of what I'm doing to your musket, that they don't forget who's been doin' such a great job.. n' then do not, by mistake, demand that I do something else.. that might be more filthy." He added with a chuckle, feeling his spirits to be rather high now, and his mind more relaxed. He could quite forget that anything was wrong with the world, or even that they were still at war, and might soon face action again , in which some could die.

He leaned closer to the musket, so that he could better see what he was doing, and not miss a speck which would earn him the telling of - not being as good as a marine - which he was probably not anyway, but a lad could dream.

"He does. He'd do better to be quiet sometime.. but 'least he's not gotten himself into as much trouble as he's been worthy talkin' of. So.. That's Oxley... there's lots more to say but I'll try t' keep it short with each.. not that there's plenty. " He paused and unfurled the cloth, then shook it out a little, before starting his work off again.

"So.. There's Chase then. ..that I kind of.. I think he's fair 'least. He protected me when I first came below. Placed his name in for me... sure we've gotten into an argument too, but he's a good man..just don't you dare tellling him that I said that. Nor Oxley! "

Thompson chuckled. "I won't go tellin' anyone you said anythin' nice 'bout 'em, promise." He glanced up. "Most the brass that needs doin' is either on the gundeck or even up on the weather deck - brass fittin's on the binnacle box, like, or even the bell, things like that. Or the quarterdeck companionway rail - though I've no idea why that's brass. Jus' 'cause it's for the officers only, an' they can't be doin' with riskin' splinters."

"That I can do.. as long as it's nothin' ter do with horse's backsides or ..places ye lot like ter go and have ye sort o' relief." He grinned. He was starting to do that more often, smile, laugh, grin, chuckle. He'd done some right when they were still on land and he and Oxley were looking about for some clean clothes. He thought his mouth would ache, unlearned as it was to this, but it felt alright.

"Well, so, um .. who else do I talk with. Lessee. There is this other Jack Tar. He showed me how ter carve things out of wood. He's t' one I yelled at when he cut 'is finger and I thought he did it intentionally.. just so he could render himself useless for work. Anyway. Westdale, he'um.. I dunno if you was asking about that, but I'll tell ye t' names of people I've been hangin' around and think are nice... n' why. So, he is. Real friendly, n' I .. I have a spoon he'd made n' finished. " He smiled warmly.

"He gave it, and we made.. we thought to make little animals from wood. Ter.. well, I think I have one somewhere still. With all things that started off.. it kind of got too busy to do any more." He nodded softly.

Thompson frowned, trying to think who he might mean, who carved things. Most of them had something of the sort to occupy their off-watch time - Branning seemed never to be without his own knife and bit of wood. His face cleared as he recalled that one of the others in Chase's mess was Westdale, who was rumoured to be handy with a carving-knife. De Guarde's next words confirmed his guess was correct.

"I'm sure things'll quieten down when we gets to sea again," he said. "They usu'lly do, an' then you'll be able to get back to your carving. We'll likely spend enough time at sea you'll have a fair collection of them animals." He grinned. "There's men I bin at sea with who've built proper model ships out o' scraps of wood. I mean, proper decent things that'd likely float - if there was any water calm enough for 'em. You could see all the diff'rent things on deck, too, from the bitts to the binnacle, an' all bits in between. Proper rigged, too, they was. Took 'em ages to do it, but there ain't so much else you can do in the dogwatches if the officers don't want to allow a skylarkin', arter all."

"If I ever learn t' carve proper like... I'll well there's so many things one can make! Instruments even, or.. like you've said. Ships. Though, I doubt I'd ever be so good as that. Takes a Tar to know every cranny of a ship, but a Tar who knows how to carve well, ter make it." He shook his head, imagining the sort of ships that THompson mentioned. Oh, he and Westdale though to make something similar, a Noah Arc of Terpsy. He chuckled as he remembered what they meant to make the animals be.

"Can you carve anythin, too?" He asked curiously, and nodded to the musket." Wot' ye think, is good enough?"

"Oh, he didn't carve it. Built it, jus' like a proper ship, with ribs, plankin' an' all, only small." He held his hands up to to show the size. "Coupla foot, somethin' like that, it was. Looked real good too, when it was finished. Had a figurehead an' everythin', it did. He made it outta scraps of wood the chippy give him, or that he scrounged from the woodpile for the galley. Took him months."

He grinned. "I ain't so good as Westdale is, but I can carve well enough. Somethin' I started on me second ship was to do a copy of the ship's figurehead for all the ships I bin in. They ain't so good as some of the sailors can do, an' I don't have all the time you lot get to do stuff, neither, what with havin' to keep me kit lookin' good."

"Build one? Must be even harder than carvin' but then you have ter know wot's behind them planks as well as what's on them." How could the man who had not read no books know a ship that well? He wondered that while listening on and soon he was grinning again.

"George, could you.. if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to see them figureheads you've made. I dun mind if they need more time, just would like to see em. Oh. n' that is 'fcourse if you got them here." He looked at the musket he'd been scrubbing then and looked up the second time." Is it finished?" He asked pointing to where he had scrubbed.

"Well, sailors know how a ship's put together - spend long enough at sea, an' even a lobster like me has some idea of it," Thompson said, shifting to sit cross-legged. "An' o' course you can see 'em. The first one ain't so good, 'cause I was figurin' it out, how to do it. Terpsy's is all right. I don't think I'll ever be quite so good as Westdale, from what I seen of his, but you can see what they'm is, like. They'm in me sea-chest, wrapped up safe where they ain't goin' to get hurt by Vinin' throwin' his kit around all any-old-how."

He looked at the musket, and indicated a spot that wasn't quite aas bright at the rest. "That bit needs a bit more work, but you'm doin' good. Don't s'pose you want to pipeclay me crossbelts, or black me shoes, do you?" The question was asked with a grin.

"Well, you tellin' me that so I go fetch them for you? Or are you wanting me to fetch them at some time I'm of duty, n' if I'um bored. If you mean for that you best tell your marine fellows that I'um allowed ter look through yer chest. Best so, less they'll think I'm trying to snag somethin' from you!"

He laughed softly. The laugh was cut short as a speck was pointed, which had been left, less shiny than it should've been. He scowled at it, as if it betrayed him and shifted the musket's possition so he would have an easier access to it.

"Well, if you teach me how ter do it... I wouldn't mind. " He said innocently, looking up. "well, not every day.. don't think I could do that. But sometimes, why not. Maybe when you'um trying to learn ter write.. I can do it, so you don't feel guilty about not havin' it done." He shrugged, perhaps even sounding serious about that.

Thompson shook his head, grinning. "You asked if I had 'em here. I don't have 'em here with me right now, but they'm here on Terpsy, so I wouldn't mind showin' 'em to you. An', well, you'm doin' a good job with that there musket, an' I only pointed that bit out to you 'cause I know you'd want to do it the same as I do." He chuckled. "Wasn't asking you to do me shoes or crossbelts, not really. It'd be real strange havin' even a disrated middy polishin' me shoes. 'M only a Private Marine, see. Ain't even a corp'ral." He looked at the musket again. "Get a clean bit of that there cloth and wipe off the brickdust, then, an' let's see what we've got. If you can try to get it back in the tin, or as much back in the tin as you can, I'd 'preciate it."

" It'd be real strange havin' even a disrated middy polishin' me shoes."

He flinched at those words, though he tried to hide the emotion brewing under the surface with a forced smile. "Don't matter.. bein' a corporal. You tole' me I need ter learn as much as I can.. while on Terpsy. ..Ain't jus' Tar things then.. that." He bit his lip and did as he were told. Wiping the brickdust where there was some and then doing the last tin bit part before he held the musket for a better inspection.

"If.. there's anythin' left to be scrubbed on it, jus' say. Do want to do one thing right." And it wasn't just about the musket either.

He noticed the movement from the corner of his eye as the boy flinched. "I'm sorry... I din't mean..." he trailed off. "You got more 'portant jobs than doin' me shoes," he said, and gave a half-shrug. "You have changed," he said, with a quick grin. "Don't think you'd have offered to do me shoes for me the day you come aboard. If anyone'd told me you'd say that, then, I'd've said he needed to go to Bedlam, or some'rs." He checked the musket. "Looks right t'me, Mathew. An'... you'm doin' things right. You mightn't see it, or b'lieve me, but you are."

"I'm sorry... I din't mean..."

He shook his head. It still hurt to be reminded, even if he had accepted the title of Tar. He'd joked about it even, but the words disrated middy seemed to bring it all back home. "..I know you didn'. Is a'right." He murmured more quietly.

"..Y'es bein' daft there, George. I do summat right, but then, t' .." He waved his hand, as if it was as obvious what he meant that he needn't explain it. He frowned and touched the musket carefully lifting it up, so that the butt of it was laid against the floor while its barrel pointed straight up.

"Ye know."

"I ain't bein' daft. You are doin' things right. Well, more right than you did when you come here. An' ev'ryone makes mistakes, times, don't they? You jus' got to learn from 'em, see how to do things better... an' learn even more, so's you don't make mistakes in the fisrt place. Or not so many, anyhow." He leaned back. "An' no, I don't think I do know. D'you want to talk 'bout it or... or not?"

"Do.. a lil'." He could've said no. But there he was thinking to share his thoughts again. The poor marine should've been dead full of all the times the lad came to seek his advice, his company and conversation. "....i feel that...t' trouble.. it follows me 'round." He looked serious as he said it. "...If summat can go wrong... than it will...I mean. like...like t' surgeon. ..he's gotten an awful injury..n' I was there. N' you... you've hurt yer leg.. i'm sure cos' of .." He frowned. "Wot' if ..its..true. N' trouble is..after me, like a bee after a bear?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and turned to look at thr lad sitting next to him. "D'you, really honestly, think it was your fault I come off the ladder when Terpsy snubbed at her cable? Was just a stupid thing that could've happened to anyone, the lantern goin' out - pusser's dips are awful bad like that - an' the ships snubbin' at her cable. An' me takin' a step with a big heavy sack o' flour acrost me shoulders. Was damn lucky it was only me ankle I busted."

He shook his head. "I don't think that's your fault, an' nor you shouldn't, neither."

"..but it was that and when we was on shore.. we got closed inter t' sewers, couldn't come out the way we went in!...I was there, n' when t' boat rocked when i was gettin' up on ship. It didn't do that before n'.." He would not have dared speak of something like this to anyone else. Not even to Oxley or Chase. Not to any Tars as they could well come up with a title for that, and then it was real bad luck for him.

"n'.." Well he could not think of more of the top of his head. "When we was on shore..t' provosts near discovered you when I was there.." If he had heard himself speak like that he'd think he was speaking silly things, yet so concerned he was now, that could think no different.

He reached for the musket. "Are you tellin' me you think you'm a Jonah?" He kept his voice very quiet. "That's the... silliest thing I think I ever heard. What happened in the sewers was just a bit o' bad luck that could happen to anyone. Whatever else they French is, they ain't daft. I think they saw the gratin' and set summat off to trap you down there. An' from what I hear, you was pretty brave an' offered to help find another way out. An' boats rock all the time. Just takes practice so's folks don't go slippin' in the water from 'em when boardin' a ship."

He reached to ruffle the lad's hair. "An' they came close to findin' us, but they didn't. And we'd had a run-in with 'em before you came along, an' they'd just followed us to the tavern you was in. So that certainly ain't your fault."

"You .. you don't think I am then?" He looked relieved , his chest breathing lighter as though there was a rock that rolled from it. "....don't think I.. I bring bad luck? What when the wind didn't blow and.. we had to row, n' when we stopped rowing.. it started again." He looked anxious again. At that time he was terribly exhausted and it was the same time he fell too. He'd thought about it a lot, much later.

But he wasn't to blame for the provosts and the other things. Didn't Thompson say so? And the man was always right, had been so far. He could swear to that!

He closed his eyes as his hair was ruffled. It felt nice even if it would leave his hair standing at odd ends and making him look lots more messy than he did. "You.. you know. You'll have ter do me hair after you messed it. ...messers , fixers." He looked seriously at him, or as serious as he could. Somehow he felt of mixed feelings. In a way more at ease, in another, still uncertain.

"Winds are tricky things. An' you stopped rowin' 'cause the wind started, not the other way round."

He laid the musket down. "You's just a confused young lad, Mathew, ain't you?" he said, looking down at him. "You ain't really been taught right 'bout life or nothin' since... well, since afore Confidence, seems to me. Though I think your folks tried their best. Dunno why I got to help sort it all out in your head, though. You poor boy."

"..I'm sorry if... if's a bother." He dropped his gaze and frowned. Of course he was having Thompson take all the effort and the trouble of it. It wasn't his duty to set him right, it wasn't his obligation that he would even come and listen to him!

"..I came 'ere proud as a peacock..."Was familiar, that. " .. but.. when yer get yer world turned upside down n' your shell shattered it ain't so easy ter think all.. sure of yeself.. you know." And why again he continued to speak about it? He looked at the musket and held it closer, rubbing across it even when he thought it was clean and finished already.

"An' now you are bein' silly," Thompson said. "We'm friends, ain't we? So stop beatin' yourself up over things and talk. I ain't goin' anywheres. You just got to learn what's right, learn a proper sort o' pride. I jus' meant... Well, that I ain't so clever at 'splainin' why things are. An', well, some of the questions you ask are things I don't understand that some folks don't know, if you see what I mean."

He sighed a little. "You just talk, all right, Mathew? Tell me 'bout things, ask me questions. 'Cause you are learnin', and I dunno what you want to know if you don't ask, see."

"If you don't understand somethin', you ask me too. A'right?" He shrugged. "You're clever. .. don't you say you ain't. I haven't... I swear I've met plenty.. but you're one of the real few that has always been right on what he said." He nodded.

"So.. thanks. Thanks on lettin' me ask them things. I know I make bad questions sometimes. Some I don't even understand m'self you know. So it isn't you either s'time."

He paused again. "N'.. can I ask you to fix me hair. You made a mess of it! A proper, bad mess." It wasn't as bad as he said it was, but that expression of conviction and a pout on his face was rather endearing.

"I... Well, it's strange bein' called clever when you can't even read." He grinned. "I just know a bit about folks, that's all. i just don't understand how anyone can keep a kid shut away till they's, what, twelve years old? An' then send 'im to sea an' 'spect him to be a proper officer. I think you'd've found it real hard even if your first ship'd bin Terpsy or anther good ship like her. I dunno how you managed to cope on Confidence, I really don't."

He looked at the lad's hair. "It ain't that bad... though I can make it that bad if you like," he said, generously.