Love At Sea: De La en Glässer

Not even a thank you

Cockerell cleared the basin and mirror that had been left behind by the captain. Once away he positioned himself at the wheel and held on tight, he could feel the sleep cloud his eyes, but sleep was not what he was about to do. He had six hours on duty, more than his fair share of work but the coins his master had paid were not going to be in vain. He looked up at the crows nest trying to spot the one man he knew would keep him company but Loomy was not yet up. A low noise made him pull out his long blade and he had to control the urge of beheading the pop that had sought the devil to scare the hairs on his neck. "Why ye little-" deep breaths, deep breaths. "Go back t' bed."

Davy Jones walked up to the railing while sniffing the many barrels of rum, something that needed to be filled once at port. "The men sound like loud pigs, I cannot sleep." He knocked over a barrel and it clustered to the floor with a loud sound. Macmillan was on his feet on instant. Cockerell sighed and placed the rope to the wheel. "Will ye pipe it down. The master 'n lassy are busy." That made Davy Jones peek at the deck. "Kissing touching loving." He made strange noises and groaning sounds at the back of his throat. "I have seen it one too many times, sir, it is not something strange to me. Once you have lived on the streets and stolen from whoring houses where the woman are always naked, then there is nothing you have not yet done in life." "Oh really?" The conversation was going fairly well and to have thought the boy was young.

"How ole are ye lad?" He eyed the small boy's figure- eleven he would say. "Ten and three sir, but many think eleven, maybe that is because I am small." "Wee ye be as wee as a needle whelp, yer hands are thinner than the finest maroon o' silk." Davy Jones looked at his hands then shrugged. He settled himself on the floor. "I just need me more food." He felt like crying, he was indeed a weakling. "Now now thar son, I didn' mean t' crush yer wee heart, say let us 'ave a natter scallywag t' scallywag, ye said ye 'ave seen all thar be t' life?" Davy Jones nodded. "But 'ave ye experienced it?" At that the young boy had his eyes glued to the older man's mouth. "Experienced what sir?" Cockerell chuckled a deep dark laugh. "Wha' do ye know about yer John Thomas?" Davy Jones beamed, there was a lot to tell.

"So how much did you bribe him for this?" Bernadette asked as she sucked her fingers. The bone was so juicy that she could not part with it. "A few coins." "More than I bet. This is dang good, I wonder why he ended up in a ship and not as a cook in a fancy household." Macmillan held his glass to his lips, if he thought his sister was an animal when it came to food then he had to think again. "Why are you smiling behind your glass? It is terrible manners to waste food. Are you going to eat that?" Macmillan set his glass to the table. "Do you want to eat it? I bet it would be the third position of food you magically disappear down your throat." "Oh please my stomach can only hold too much. I know a lad or two that might want to eat this." Macmillan leaned down towards her. "By the way the damages that boy-" "His name is Davy Jones." He glared at her. "The damages he makes will come out of your salary lassy."

"Bernadette." "What?" He asked. "It is Bernadette and not lassy." A frown etched her features. "I can bet you did not know that that is my name." "What? No!" Macmillan gave a strangled laugh and brought the glass of red wine to his lips. He was sweating, it had to be the heat in the cold of the night. "Let us be honest here captain Macmillan Wilbur. You did not know my name and all this time called me lassy because you were too afraid to ask my name." At that Macmillan stood up with a force so clumsy the bottle of wine fell to the floor. He was indeed ashamed. "Come with me lassy." "Bloody hell it is Bernadette!" He waved his fingers. "On my ship I can call you whatever I want so lassy it is or lad if you please."

She crossed her hands on her chest and stumped her foot. "No! Either you call me by my name or do not." Macmillan thought about that. "Okay lassy." Bernadette could feel the last of her sanity leave her body, it was maddening being called a lassy twenty-four-seven and it was even more upsetting that the man that had gone through the stress of preparing her a fine dinner did not and could not bother learning her name. Her heart ached and her stomach grumbled. Her eyes picked with unshed tears. "You selfish bastard." She moved for the door, once she was in the captain's cabin she let out a scream, one that wrecked her drenched soul even more. She pulled herself together and headed for the kitchen, she had more pressing matters to attend to.