Fortify

Chapter Five

[Small edit: banner is our very adorable Cook! Played by equally adorable Lee Arenberg]

I'd been aboard the Transtemporal—a very tongue-in-cheek name for this ship, I'd learned—for a few weeks now. Sinclair was really the one giving me orders around deck. By the fifteenth time I'd puked on the deck after I'd mopped it, he decided I was probably better suited below deck to help with the cabin cook.

Cook's actual name was John, but he preferred to go by Cook. He was a nice enough man for me not to completely hate my time. Mostly I just cleaned; a glorified Cabin Boy. The first couple of days, Cook was really ruthless in his demands of me and ran me pretty ragged. Once he found out I didn't actually mind the work—I had to keep myself busy or else I'd go insane—he began to take a liking to me.

Cook was a shorter, plump man with a small strip of graying brown hair wrapped around the back of his head. He often wore a grubby bandana to hide the balding on the top of his head. I was surprised to learn that, despite his rough appearance, he was a rather clean guy. He took his job as the ship's cook very seriously and being as clean as reasonably possible was part of that job. He didn't tolerate one speck of anything on his dishes (which were very worn out with age, so it was often hard for me to tell what the hell I was washing, and that was without the lovely added bonus of little light).

After a couple of weeks, I guess Cook decided I was trustworthy enough to talk to. He opened up about his late wife, Bernadette, and how their children now lived with his sister so he could make wages for them.

"I love the sea an the freedom," he had said in a deep drawl, "but me children are the real treasure."

He had two children, a boy and a girl by the names of John Jr and Marie, and they were rounding up on their teenager years. His sister was rising "right proper gentlemen and ladies" between his children and her own, and he was clearly a proud papa. He didn't see his children often enough, but "that's life."

When Cook asked if I had any youngins of my own, I had laughed a little. "No, sir, not even close."

"Yer better get a move'on; yer only young fer so long!" he'd chided.

I laughed under my breath. "Yes, sir, you're probably right about that."

"Yer seem right educated, lad," Cook had said after a while of knowing me. "What's yer doin' on the sea? Yer ain't equipped fer it." With this proclamation, he jokingly jabbed my stomach, mocking my recurrent sea sickness.

"I have my debts," I'd decided to land on vaguely. I wanted to open up to the old man since he had done so for me, but I also recognized I couldn't safely do that. It made me feel bad, but Cook seemed to understand.

"All y'all ever do is chit chat." Will sat perched on a barrel, savagely digging into an apple and not caring about the juices dribbling down his chin.

Cook ignored him, only replying in the form of a grunt.

I'd also learned that almost everybody couldn't stand Sinclair. Who would? He was infuriating. The little man was always up my ass. I had hope being demoted to the cabin would mean he'd leave me alone, but it just made his visits more frequent.

"Dinner's not going to be ready for a long while," I muttered. "You know that."

Sinclair held up his apple as evidence. "Oh, aye. I just be makin' sure you ain't shirking your duties, cabin boy."

I gave him a hard look of disdain. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Sinclair nodded like he was pleased. "See that ya don't." With that, he hopped off the barrel and sauntered back up deck.