The Voice of Teddy Shaw

May 3, 1604

Teddy's dragging steps barely sound on the open deck of the HMS Seacrest. Inside, they thunder through his body like the roar of a cannon shot. There was no battle. The sky was clear; the weather smiling down like a mother on her infant. Still, every moment felt like a battle in his mind.

Go slow. Delay.

But he can't go slow. He was called, and once life demands, he must answer. Delay is how you thrive. Father used to bellow like the famed gorillas of Africa until his children skipped to task. Or was it India? Teddy didn't remember. Answer, when called. Hear as few calls as possible. That is the game.

The ship puffed along at sea. Cloud-speckled skies and teasing winds coaxed their three-masted beast across the ocean, lumbering along like a contented bear headed toward hibernation. The European cost jutted out to their right as they traveled north, back toward England. A man played on his penny whistle, while another picked at his carving of a cross, moaning in pain to the dull bite of malnutrition. None bothered Teddy as his lanky form jolted its way to that black pit known as the captain's quarters.

Captain's doorknob is an ornate octopus, suckling the splinters of shrunken sea-worn wood until they were married like a lecherous old man and a hapless maid. Teddy grabbed the head and twisted until the door popped open.

Chester Barker stood at his desk, his white, bearish teeth hinting at a half smile underneath a curled lip. Captain Barker did not sit. His right heel pummeled the cushion of his seat, like famed Magellan landing after finding the straight. Or was that how the story went? No one really knew quite. Captain Barker was out for his piece of glory too, but not quite like Magellan. Barker's eyes stabbed into the new man entering his domain.

"Teddy!" Barker boomed, the grin of the bear turning to the prowling smile of a wolf. "Welcome to your captain's humble quarters!"

Teddy nodded. Must I respond to this? Captain Barker continued.

"You are quite the sailor I hear. Respected for your work. Woods speaks a high regard for your, er..." Barker searched the haystack of his mind for the right word. "Magnanimous work ethic." His eyes turned to the size of the globe on his desk as his wolfish grin grew. "Nice word, eh? Magnanimous? Means a lot, my boy. Learned that from the Commodore!"

Teddy nodded again. At any moment, he expected the captain's mood to change. A bark that turned to discipline out in the high seas. Barker's eyes slid down to slits as the grin disappeared.

"You know the heading? I hear your navigation skills are also top of the line."

Teddy nods a third time.

"Dammit man! Are you daft? Where's the voice of a man?"

Captain Barker's toothy smile returned. He slapped Teddy on the back in a good natured sort of way, pulling some of the bite out of his last comment.

Teddy's heart pounds in his chest. Voice? Nod again. Wait, no, that's not what he wants. Teddy cracks open his dry lips, and croaks out a "yes sir".

Barker's eyes continue to squint at the Teddy's monkey-armed physique, but his mouth growled a small, odd laugh.

"And the good Lord made the mute talk! Good man! Learn to use that."

The captain looks back down at the map before him.

"Not all men on this ship are as sharp as you, my boy. You know our heading?"

Teddy nodded. Barker fixed him with prowling eyes, a wolf waiting to pounce, itching for a reason to kill. Respond, respond!

"To port, captain."