Stormy Seas: Part 11

  I was awakened by the sound of footsteps running down the hall outside the door. I shoved away the heavy blanket and raised myself to sitting position on the edge of the bunk. Since I had decided to sleep in my clothes my skirts were twisted among the sheets and I had to untangle myself before I could stand.

Cheerful sunlight came in through the brass porthole. I stood and looked out at endless water and little waves crashing against the side of the ship. I sighed. I was fairly well rested but I felt weary. I was certain that the ship had turned in the night and was heading back to shore to drop me back into Aunt's decadent arms.

I've learned from this though, I thought. My next escape will be much better. If Aunt was still going to take me to France I could escape there just as easily and buy myself a train ticket to Germany. As I decided this I began to put my hair up. There was no mirror in the cabin, though I had seen one very grimy one in the lavatory the day before. I tried my best to make myself look presentable. The other thing my room was lacking was water for washing. I had spent a good bit of time the night before crying, and my face needed a good wash. Then again, this did not appear to be the kind of boat where people did very much regular washing.

I stood for a moment surveying the room. My coat was on a hook behind the door and my riding boots on the floor below. I had put my corset and stockings in one of the drawers but my feet were daring me to put those boots back on so I left my stockings and decided I would go barefoot. My corset too I could do without. All it had served me, besides looks, the night before was a handhold to be caught by. Though, when I remembered it I was almost sorry that I had insisted upon being let go. He was quite strong to have pulled me back the way he had and... No. I stopped myself from thinking any further and continued surveying the cabin. The bed was still unmade and since I had nothing else to do I set about making it again. When I had finished I looked around the room again.

I found the young sailor's handkerchief in a little alcove near the bed where I had left it the night before. It was now very well used but I noticed the neatly stitched initials E.P. I wasn't entirely sure how to return it. The polite thing to do would have been to wash it but I saw no way to do so, and it seemed rude to hand it back damp and crumpled.
There was a sharp knock on the door. “Miss Winters?” It was him. “Are you awake?”

I'd surely be awake now, I thought. “Yes.” I replied.

I heard a jingle of keys and the door opened. “Captain Peck has asked to see you before breakfast,” he said. Now that I could get a good look at him I could see that he was very handsome. He was tall and thin, with dark brown hair and eyes. He had on short trousers and blue and red striped stockings that matched his blue and red jacket and hat.

“And I found this last night but I had already returned the keys to Captain Peck.” He held up my bag.

“Thank you,” I said as I took it from him. I felt some need to look through it and ensure that it's contents was intact. I hated that I did not feel that I could trust him.

“The Captain's quarters are this way,” he said. He took a step down the hall and waited to see if I would follow.

I set my bag down on the bed and came with him. He paused and went back to shut and lock the door.

“Just a precaution,” he assured me.

I walked in front of him like a prisoner. I suppose I am a prisoner, I thought.

“Right,” he said.

“Right what?”

“Right,” he said again. He gave me a nudge toward the stairs on my right. At the top of the narrow stairs were two doors. Through a window the first door I could see the deck. It looked like a beautiful sunny day outside and I suddenly wanted to run out and smell the fresh sea air. I was directed to the second door though, where Eldon knocked and waited.

“Come in,” a big booming voice called. He opened the door and ushered me in.

I found myself inside the Captain's quarters. The captain and his fat red mustache sat behind a desk with tidy stacks of notes and charts. A very tall man with dark skin and enormous muscles stood beside the captain looking at me through his spectacles.

“Our stowaway?” he asked.

“Miss Winters I believe,” the captain's voice said from under his mustache.

I gave a little curtsey since I could think of nothing to say.

“Won't you sit?” the captain offered. He waved his hand at a chair across the desk from him. I sat down on the edge of the seat and folded my hands in my lap.

“Shall I go sir?” Eldon asked. He was still standing by the door.

“Stay Mr. Palmer,” the captain said. “It wouldn't do to have Rhoden chase after her if she bolts again.”

The dark man laughed suddenly and loudly, causing me to jump.

“Now,” the captain said. He leaned his elbows on his desk. “I'd like to know exactly what caused you to end up on my ship.”

I had no idea where to begin. “I was running away from Aunt,” I said.

“Your aunt?” the captain asked.

“She had told my parents that she would take me traveling with her to help me find a suitable husband,” I explained.

“Ah,” his mustache moved and I guessed that he was grinning. “But you've already got a lad you want to marry?”

“No,” I said flatly. “She told me that a husband would be a burden to me and she was only taking me traveling with her. I tried to tell my parents but she kept my letters from going to them. When I realized what she was doing I decided to escape and get to my parents.”

“Where are your parents miss?” Rhoden asked.

“Germany, on business,” I said.

He threw back his head and laughed at me. “Unless Germany is a town in the Americas you're on the wrong boat ma'am!”

“I was hoping you would stop in France or Ireland where I could sneak off and no one but me would ever need to know,” I scowled at them. “Take me back if you must but do not continue to laugh at me.”

“Alright Rhoden,” the captain said, though he had also laughed. “Miss Winters, I will not be turning my ship around to bring you back.” I was happy for half a moment and then wondered if it was really a good thing. “So you will be temporarily joining my crew.”

“Captain?” Rhoden asked in surprise.

“I'm not going to have someone on the ship who isn't working,” the captain explained.

“But Captain, it's bad luck,” Rhoden insisted.

“Eldon will give you the key to your cabin and show you what you'll be doing.”

“Stoking fires and raising sails?” Eldon asked from behind me.

“Helping the cook, cleaning, mending,” the captain clarified. “All the things the rest of the crew complains about.” His mustache twitched as he spoke. “Go show her around and explain to the rest of the crew that I'll keelhaul anyone who gives our guest trouble.”

“Guest means that she was invited,” Rhoden said.
“Eldon?” the captain called.
“Yes sir,” he said. “This way Miss Winters.”

I stood and followed him out the door.

“Was your aunt really that bad?” he asked curiously after he had shut the door.

“She's suffocating,” I said. “I had no room at all to breathe.”

“Are you sure that wasn't a corset?” he asked.

I couldn't help but smile. He led the way down to the galley where I could already smell breakfast cooking.

“Jack?” Eldon called.
“What?” a man in a white apron called from the stove. He turned around and saw us. “Oh, Captain said you'd be in to help. I've got a spare apron miss.”

“Miss Winters this is Jack, the ships cook,” Eldon introduced quickly.

“Are you two here to help or not?” Jack called. He left the spoon he had been stirring with on the counter and shut himself in the larder.

I picked the apron off of it's hook and eyed the stains on the front. I tied it on anyway, deciding it was better to wear something of doubtful cleanliness than to get my own clothes destroyed. “Eldon, stir that.” The cook popped back through the door and pointed to a vat over the stove. It looked to be filled with some sort of porridge.

“What should I do?” I asked.

“There's dough on the counter that has to be kneaded,” his voice called out.

I turned and saw a bowl full of lumpy dough. I had never kneaded dough before and felt lost looking at it. I thought back to watching women in a french opera I had seen with Aunt. They had had the dough on a board so I dumped it in a sticky heap out onto the counter.

“You forgot the flour,” the cook said. He was standing over my shoulder.

“Where is it?” I asked.

He wordlessly reached up past me to a little crank above a spout. When he turned the crank a little stream of flour came out from the wall.

“Thank you,” I said sweetly. He turned and checked on the porridge. I poured more flour on the dough and then rolled it over and patted more flour on it's underside. I set about trying to mimic the bakers in the opera, rolling the dough from side to side.

“What are you doing?” the cook asked me. I could not pretend that I knew what I was doing. “You fold it,” he explained. He demonstrated, folding the floury dough and squashing it.

I copied him.

“When you're done with that you use this.” I looked up as he picked up a wooden mallet.

“On bread?” I asked.

He slammed the mallet into the dough. “Ship's biscuits,” he clarified. “When you're done with that bunch I've got some more dough in there.” He pointed at the larder. “Enough for the crew for the day.” He took off his apron and left with the coal bucket in hand.

There was quite a lot of crew and I could not imagine how long it would take to make enough biscuits for all of them. I pulled the mallet out of the dough and set about kneading again.

“There are some from yesterday for breakfast,” Eldon said from behind me. “You'll have more time to work on those.”

I was still unsure of how to respond and continued working quietly. He came over and stood beside me with another lump of dough.

“You're from England?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Where are you from?” I was curious about him, he seemed so much more gentlemanly than the rest of the crew.

“The Americas,” he said. “On a little island off the coast of Carolina.”

“I thought Carolina only had pirates,” I said.

“There have been a large number of well known pirates,” he laughed. “Ever heard of Blackbeard?”

“Of course,” I said. “But he's been dead for over one hundred years.”

“He used to have a house near where I grew up. I walked past it once.”

I was unsure of how to respond to this as well.

“Your mother never taught you to cook?” he asked. He was eyeing the still lumpy dough in front of me.

“Mother doesn't cook,” I said. “Neither does Aunt.”

“What do they do?” he asked.

“Mother helps father with his work. He's a lawyer.”

“And your aunt?”

“She sleeps a lot, and goes to parties.”

“What does your uncle do?” he asked.

“My uncle died a few years ago,” I said. “Then Aunt went around the world with all his money and came back to trick my parents into letting me accompany her.”

He started punching the dough down with his fist instead of the mallet. I took up the mallet to join him. “And she said she didn't want you to marry?”

“I think she hated my uncle,” I explained. “She thinks that all men are just like her view of him.”

“They're coming down for breakfast,” Jack called as he returned. Eldon gave me a reassuring look and went to help the cook.

Keeping the Sabbath Day Holy

I work at two Phunny Pharm locations now. It's good, the new one is closer and nicer to work at, the problem arises when the two locations attempt to make a schedule for me. For this upcoming week it led to an interesting problem. 

The new location called me after having my schedule for the first location faxed over. They gave me a schedule for both locations over the phone. Part of it surprised me. 

"Sunday 8-3."

"What?"

I don't like to work on Sunday. Sunday is the day I go to church, see the Captain, and learn from some very wise teachers. It seems like I'm constantly fighting to have this day. 

I called the Phunny Pharm  back and asked why I was scheduled. The manager insisted that I had worked Sunday mornings before. That's a lie but I'm letting it slide. I decided to cave this once and if no one else could be found to take the shift I would agree to work, just this one Sunday. 

So then I went upstairs to read the Bible for the day. I just so happened to be reading through Jerimiah. "This is what the Lord says: Listen to my warning! Stop carrying on your trade at Jerusalem’s gates on the Sabbath day. Do not do your work on the Sabbath, but make it a holy day. I gave this command to your ancestors, but they did not listen or obey. They stubbornly refused to pay attention or accept my discipline." 17:21-23

Ok God, I hear you... 

I had never thought about it before. Not working on the Sabbath is a command that God gives us. I suppose I don't really understand why but who am I to question the one who made the Heavens and the Earth? More to the point, Aisling put it to me that by defending my decision to not work on the Sabbath I would be standing up for my God, serving my King. 

So you might be wondering what my point is, (besides ranting about the store manager.) To my Christian audience, I had not thought about it before and I wonder how many others have. It's a command, and not a bad one at all (Certainly better than love your neighbor as yourself) but do we follow it? Do you follow it?

Also, Chick-Fil-A, you rock. Keep it up. 

Stormy Seas: Part 10

  We were up on the rigging again as the sun was setting. The wind was picking up and the sails needed to be let down.

“I told him the wind would take us,” Ray grumbled loudly from above my head. “We'll be up and down all night at this rate.”

I was merely glad to be away from the endless mounds of coal that continuously needed to be shoveled into the firebox. Climbing up the rigging was much more to my liking. Up here I could admire the peach and rose colored sunset. Out on the sea where you could see from horizon to horizon sunsets were particularly beautiful. I pulled myself up on top of the yard and crawled down with my back to the sun. Facing this way I could see dark skies and stars, though the ship was still lit by the last rays of the sun.

“Ready?” Rhoden called from far below.

I tugged at the knot holding my bit of sail in place. It was stiff and didn't budge. I tugged again and realized that it had not been tied correctly. I tried to loosen it with my fingers but the rope would not move.

“Wait!” I tried to call. The wind swept my voice out to sea and I knew Rhoden would not hear.

“Cut it!” Ray shouted from beside me. “It'll rip the sail!”

I took my knife from my belt and hooked it under a loop in the knot. I tried to slit through the thick rope but only frayed some of it.

“Let her down!”

I sliced again and this time the knife went through. I watched my rope unfurl with the sail and fly away on the wind.

“Eldon!” Captain Peck shouted in his very loud angry voice.

I bit back a comment and put my knife away. I crawled back toward the rigging and could feel Captain Peck's eyes on my the entire way down.

“The rope Mr. Palmer?” he asked when I jumped back down to the deck.

“The knot was wrong,” I said defensively.

“Practice when you put a new rope up there,” he ordered. “Before supper.”

“He was on the other side of the sail when we tied it up,” Ray said. “It wasn't his knot.”

“He's still going to put it back,” Captain Peck said. He turned and strutted back to his cabin.

“We'll only have to keep cutting them down if bad knots are tied!” Ray shouted after him.

“Supper's ready!” Jack shouted. The rest of the crew began to hurry off to eat.

I scowled and headed for the hold.

“I'll save something for you,” Ray promised.

“Thanks,” I called back to him. I climbed down the ladder and began to search for extra rope. In the hold I found quite a lot of coal and barrels of oil for lamps. When I didn't see any rope I decided to try the cargo hold where I knew we had been tying back barrels earlier in the day. There might be a spare length there that I could use.

I opened the door and saw a rat scurry away into the dark recesses. We needed a cat very badly. I stamped my foot to scare any others off and then began to search. Someone had lit a lamp in the little open walkway leading through the hold. I took it with me and climbed over a crate to where I could see a good sized coil of rope.

I hefted it up onto my shoulder and turned to leave when something caught my eye. Between two crates I thought I saw something blue when the light shined on it. I looked again and still saw a bit of blue there. I set down the rope and the lantern and moved a barrel out of the way. I reached, grabbed a hold of it, and tugged.

There was a yelp and the fabric was yanked out of my hand. I stood and moved the barrels further out of the way, then picked up the lantern so that I could see into the narrow space.

The light fell on quite a lot of blue. A blue coat and wide, terrified, blue eyes.

“Please don't tell anyone I'm here!” she pleaded.

“Come out of there,” I said, surprised. “How did you get on board?”

“I snuck in last night,” she said. “Please don't take me back!”

I took her by the arm and pulled her out. She was well dressed and had her blonde hair up in a neat bun with a silver comb. “Why did you sneak on this ship?” I asked.

She looked ashamed. “It was the only ship I knew.”

“You heard of the Lethargy?”

“I saw the name on the back of your coat,” she admitted. “When that policeman was so rude to you. Please understand, I had to get away and I wasn't thinking. I know I should have taken a ferry,” she went on in one breath.

I could only picture what could have happened if someone like Victor had found her down here. I didn't even trust that she would be safe if Ray found her.

“Will you hide me?” she asked desperately. Her blue eyes pleaded with me.

“No.” I began to drag her out into the open.

“Let go!” she whispered. She tried to shake her arm free. I set down the lamp and prepared to grab her as she slipped out of her coat. When I looked again I saw that it was fastened on quite tightly by her corset. I took her other arm and pulled her out into the walkway. She continued to struggle and dropped the bag she had been holding.

“Is there any way I can convince you to help me?”

I had to twist one arm behind her back and sort of shove her along in front of me. I opened the door near the back of the cargo hold that opened to the nicer part of the ship by the captain's quarters. We had to pass very close to the galley where I could hear the rest of the crew eating.

“Please! I'll be sent back!” she whispered.

“Finished Eldon?” Ray called when he heard our footsteps.

“Where's Captain Peck?” I called.

“It'll do no good to tell him you didn't tie it,” Ray said. He came out of the galley as he spoke and his jaw dropped. “What's this?” he asked.

“A stowaway,” I said.

“Prettiest stowaway I've ever seen,” Ray commented.

The doorway was crowded in seconds. The girl hung her head and silently let me lead her up to the deck. I could hear the rest of the crew following us and at least one of them whistled.

“Captain,” I called. He was standing near the mast, looking up at the rope I had cut.

“We've got a stowaway!” someone behind me shouted. Some of them began to crawl up the rigging to get a better look.

Captain Peck got a very serious look on his face. His mustache turned to the side as we came closer. “A stowaway?”

I could feel the girl shaking with fear.

“Your name miss?” Captain Peck asked.

“Vivian Winters,” she said.

“Why are you on my ship?”

She paused for a moment and looked down at the deck. “I'm trying to run away.”

“Can we keep her Cap'n?” a voice shouted from the crowd of crew members. The rest laughed but a look from Captain Peck silenced them all.

“We have our policies about stowaways on this ship,” Captain Peck said. “Toss her over Mr. Palmer.”

I could not believe it. “Over sir?” I asked.

I could hear murmuring and other chatter from the crew.

“Over,” he repeated. “Into the briny deep, overboard. Shall I have someone fetch a plank for you?”

“She'll drown,” I said.

“We can't have her on board, it's bad luck,” he said. “Supper will only be available for the next hour men,” he called back at the crew. They began to disperse.

“Worse luck if you're all hanged for murder!” the girl slung back at Captain Peck. She was still shaking. Captain Peck took a step toward her and she took one back until her shoulder was against my chest.

“Captain, it's barbaric,” I said.

“Neither of you has ever heard a joke before, have you?” he asked us. “Take Miss Winters below and lock her in one of the empty cabins.” He tossed me his ring of keys.

“Aye sir,” I said. I turned and led the girl away. The crew watched curiously as we passed the galley. I shut the door to the hold behind us as I led her through. When we were there I noticed that she was still shaking.

“The Captain has a very strange sense of humor,” I said. “He wouldn't really do something like that.” I hoped.

She sobbed and I realized that she had been crying. I loosened my grip on her arm in case I had been hurting her and reached into my pocket for my handkerchief. Before I could get it out she had wrenched her arm out of my hand and bolted for the other door.

“Hey!” I ran after her. I reached and looped my fingers in the lacing on the back of her corset. Using that as a grip I pulled her back and caught her around the waist. She was still crying and struggling.

“Let me go!” she sobbed.
I thought about it for a moment and then let her go. She ran a few steps and then dropped to her knees before she reached the door. I knelt beside her and held out my handkerchief.

“I should have stayed with Aunt,” she wept. I brushed the cloth against her fingers. She noticed it then and turned her face away as she wiped her eyes.

I took her hand and helped her to her feet. “You'll have to tell me about it,” I said. It seemed like the best thing to say to her.

She nodded and I led her gently the rest of the way to the crew cabins. She looked inside when I opened the door.

“There's bedding in one of those.” I pointed to the cupboards and shelves in the wall.

She went in and sat down on the bare mattress of the bunk. “Thank you,” she said politely.

“I'm Eldon,” I introduced. “Eldon Palmer.”

“Vivian Winters,” she said. She sounded like she might cry again.

I turned away to leave her to her tears. As I locked the door I wondered how she had managed to hide as long as she did with all of us running over every inch of the ship. I hurried back toward the galley to fetch supper for us both. As I opened the door to the cargo hold I saw the coil of rope and remembered my task. I sighed, annoyed that I couldn't have supper first, and hurried back to the deck.  

Stormy Seas: Part 9

A note: I apologize for the length of this segment in advance. I think I had meant to tack it on along with part 8 and forgot, and the next part was going to be really long if I added it. Also, I couldn't find a picture that I liked to go along with this one so I settled on giving you all the bonus of a picture of the Captain during his cabin boy years (Aww!) It's also a little tiny bit some payback for a picture of me that I found out he had. I love you Sweetheart! ^__^ 

So enjoy part 9, part 10 will be more interesting I promise. And if I ever do this again I'll try to come up with something else I can add to make up for it. 

  I had begun to regret my choice of escape.

Much of my day had been spent wedged between stacks of crates in a dark ship where I had been left alone with the rats and my own thoughts. It had quickly occurred to me that I could have bought myself a ferry ticket to Germany and gone straight to Mother and Father. Unlike most stowaways I had money, and could have done something better for myself.

That thought had dampened my spirits quite a bit since I had no way of fixing my situation. I was moody and frightened. Every time someone came down into the hold I would freeze in terror, holding my breath until I was certain they were gone.

I leaned forward and put my forehead on the crate in front of me. The space was so tight that my back was still touching the crate behind me. I wished that I had enough room to sit down and take my boots off, I could feel large blisters being rubbed onto my feet. My original hiding place was not very far away, but every time I had decided to sneak back to it one of the sailors would come down, and I could always hear them moving all around the ship.

I wonder where we're headed, I thought. We were sure to make port soon, it was nearly time for tea. My heart rate began to speed up. What if the ship wasn't going to make port tonight? Where was it going? Why on earth had I not considered this before trapping myself on board?!

I suddenly felt very much like crying.  

Stormy Seas: Part 8

I climbed up out of the hold with Patrick behind me. I had no pity for him and his headache, Captain Peck had warned us all that we would be sailing today.

“Ray, unhook the tug!” Rhoden bellowed. Ray ran off in the direction of the prow. “Loose the sails!”

I grabbed hold of the rigging and scampered up the tall mast to the sails. I moved out of the way and crawled down the yard of the sail as other crew members climbed up after me. We spread out down the sail sitting on the wooden crossbeam of the mast and began to loosen the ropes holding it in place.

“Ready?” Rhoden called up to us. It was not a question, though he made it sound like one. It had confused me my first few days on board. “Let her down!”

We let go and the sail unfurled. The wind caught it and it billowed outward, carrying the Lethargy out to sea. I watched it and the water below me. I loved the feeling of the wind coming up under me, as if it would lift me and carry me into the air.

There was no time to stop and daydream though. I grabbed my rope and swung myself down to the rigging. It shook a bit when I leapt onto the ropes and someone above me voiced a loud complaint. I ignored him, I tightened the rigging myself now and knew that it couldn't give him more than a little scare.

I landed back on deck as the stream of orders coming from Rhoden found me as their mark.

“Eldon, down to the engines!”

“Yes sir!” I called. I scrambled below deck after Ray and Victor. I had never helped with the engines before, only observed and helped fill the firebox.

“It'll be a mess in there when we finally make port again,” Ray complained as we all scurried down.

“More than usual?” I asked.

“Nobody cleaned it yesterday,” he said. “We were all hoping to sail in the evening.”

“It's probably out of water too,” Victor said. “We'll be filling it constantly.

We hurried to the deepest part of the hold where the boilers were. The boilers were two large tanks connected by the square shaped firebox.

Victor went to one tank and Ray to the other. “Less than one third full,” Ray called.

“This one's around that,” Victor responded.

I joined Ray and watched as he checked on the gauges. Nearly all of them were down at zero since there was no fuel in the firebox.

“Good thing we took on more water,” Ray said. He pulled a lever and I heard water start to gush into the boiler. We watched the water level rise.

“Better get filling it!” Victor shouted over the noise.

I hopped down and went to the front of the firebox where there was already a heap of coal. I donned gloves and opened the small iron door. A wave of heat came out since the fire rarely ever went completely out. I peered inside at the red coals that were still burning.

I grabbed the metal shovel and began shoveling coal into the firebox. Between shovelfulls I tried to watch Ray and Victor checking levels and temperatures and pulling levers. I watched Ray pick up the speaking tube which would lead to the wheel where Captain Peck was.

“She's heating up,” he paused and listened. “The wind has us, calm down.” Ray was the only one who spoke to Captain Peck the way he did. I had heard everyone else call him Captain at least once, but never Ray. He listened to Captain Peck for a moment longer and then stopped up the speaking tube with his finger. “How's the fire?” he asked me.

“Bigger,” I called back after throwing in another shovelfull. The heat was growing rapidly. I was already covered in sweat and sticky with coal dust.

He unplugged the speaking tube. “We're not going to get there any faster with the engines when the wind is the way it is!”

I continued shoveling. Victor came down and began shifting more coal closer to where I could reach.

“I wonder what has him in such a hurry,” Ray grumped as he hung up the speaking tube.

“It's almost up to heat,” Victor called after checking his boiler.

“Same here,” Ray called. “That should make him happy.”

I shoveled one more heap of coal inside and shut the firebox door.

“You can't have filled it already,” Victor called down at me.

“Can't?” I shouted back with a grin. I took off the big gloves and wiped my brow on my shirt sleeve.

Victor came and took one of the gloves from me. I stepped back as he opened the door and peered inside. “It can always use more,” he commented. He picked up the shovel and continued the work.

“Come on Eldon, we'd best check the wheel before the engines start.”

We climbed up a ladder above the boilers and onto a thin platform below the wheel. Ray and I each grabbed a wire brush that was hanging on the wall and set about cleaning the spokes of the wheel. I was impressed with the amount of slime that coated the wheel from the steam and coal dust. It had to be cleaned often or the wheel would clog and we risked damaging it.

“Had you ever been to England before this?” Ray asked me through the spokes.

“No,” I said. I scraped off a hardening lump on the metal. “I'd never really traveled much at all.”

Ray was only a few years older than me but he had sort of adopted me as his apprentice. I liked to think of him as being a kind of Third Mate.

“It's too bad you couldn't see more of it then,” he said. “Peck likes it there so sometimes we make port for up to two weeks. Jack told me he thinks he has a wife in London.”

“He must not see her very often then,” I said.
“I don't think she's really his wife,” Ray commented.

“How long have you been sailing?” I asked him.

“On the Lethargy?” he asked. “Four years, but I was on another boat before this.”

“What ship?” I asked. I had looked into many to see exactly what kind of boat I wanted to captain someday, though I hadn't yet made up my mind.

“A slave ship,” he said. “Mostly from Africa and India to the Australia settlements. I hated it though,” he admitted. I watched his face and could tell that he had been thoroughly disturbed by it.

“How did you end up on it?” I asked.

“I needed a job and they paid me good money,” he shrugged. His brush was moving swiftly and expertly. “They can't pay you enough to do that for long though.”

I nodded. We had passed a slave ship as we were leaving one of the Americas and I distinctly remembered the smell. You would have needed to have your nose removed to captain a ship like that for long.

“Peck was First Mate there, and when he got his own ship with CTC he brought me along.”

“Do you want to be a captain?” I asked him. He was already working on cleaning the turning panels on the wheel.

“Me?” he laughed. “I'd hate being a captain. I imagine you'll get tired of it pretty quick if you get to be one.”

“I don't think so,” I said. “Captain Eldon Palmer has quite a ring to it.”

“Is that the only reason you want to be a captain?” he asked me seriously.

“No,” I said. I thought for a moment. It wasn't that I particularly liked ships in the way that boys who wanted to be train conductors liked trains. I knew that I didn't like the steam engines on the ships but old fashioned sailing ships only existed for pleasure cruises now. “I'd like to be at the ship's helm,” I said. I could picture myself turning the great wheel and guiding the ship safely through storms.

“Thats it?” Ray asked.

“Isn't that part of the captain's job?” I asked.

“Tell Peck that's what you want and he'll gladly hand it over,” he said. “You'll be bored with it in less than an hour.”

I finished my side of the wheel and began to help him clean the panels.

“Hey, don't listen to me try to talk you out of it,” he said. “It's good that you know what it is you want to do.”

“You don't want to be a sailor the rest of your life?” I goaded.

He laughed. “I'm getting off this heap as soon as I can.”

I didn't believe him. We had stopped at several ports along our way and I had never seen him attempt to find another job.

“Ray!” Victor shouted up to us.

“What!” Ray shouted back.

“Captain wants to start the engines!”
“Of course he does,” Ray grumbled. “Climb down before the wheel starts.”

I hung up my brush and began to climb down. “What about you?” I called back. There was a rule on board that no one could be near the wheel alone.

“I'm coming.”

I waited on the ladder and watched as he quickly finished up cleaning the panels. The wheel began to turn and he continued scrubbing even as it began to move faster.

“Ray,” I called in a warning tone.

“Done,” he said. He hung up his brush and I scurried to get down and out of his way. “Don't tell Peck I was doing that, and don't ever do it yourself.”

“Right, but it's fine for you?” I asked.

“I know what I'm doing,” he said. “Come on, lets get out of here.” He led the way up and back on deck.  

The Phunny Pharm, Round 2

There's always at least one “Blessing” a day at the Phunny Pharm. I've been there long enough now that every person who comes in is a potential bad customer, the trick is to appease them somehow. 

When that fails, laugh at them behind the counter and go on with your day. Then blog about it later ^_^

Today in the Phunny Pharm I opened the drive thru window and breathed deep the fresh smell of newly puffed cigarettes. When I had recovered from that I saw that the driver of the car was handing me a prescription. I took it, asked the usual questions about the patient, who happened to be the smoker in the passenger seat. I noticed two others in the back seat, I also noticed that the prescription was written for vicodin. (That's the really popular drug I mentioned in my last blog about the Phunny Pharm.) Now, not that I automatically assume that people who come for controlled substances are abusing, but when they come in a rusty old car smoking and swearing into their cell phones I assume some things.

Fifteen minutes later when they came back for the vicodin my suspicions were confirmed. First, the driver asked if she could buy benadryl through the window. I cringed. Buying something through the drive thru window, other than it's intended purpose, means that they will lounge their lazy hindquarters in their seats while ordering me to make multiple trips into the front of the store. I work in the pharmacy, I do not know very well where to find things in the front store. Also, I don't know what benadryl is or where we keep it in the store. I asked the pharmacist if I could do transactions through the window. To my relief she responded that I have better things to do. I informed the driver that she would have to come in to the store to get it. She informed me that her mother-in-law needed it for her dialysis. I don't know much about medical stuff, but I had never heard that you need benadryl for dialysis. When I had convinced them that I was not going to run around the store looking for a pink box of benadryl I asked them for the name of the patient to give them their prescription. I was given only the last name and went looking. When I couldn't find it by last name alone I went back and asked for the name. By now the pharmacist was helping me. When the first name I was given was not clear I went back and asked for a birthdate. The driver stopped me.

“Is that the last thing you need?”

“Yeah, we're just having a little trouble finding her in the system.”

“Well we gave it to you fifteen minutes ago and you said it would be ready.”

“Yes, but I can't find it so we're trying to look up where it is.”

“Ok fine.”

“... What was the birthdate again?”

Upon finding the right person in the computer the pharmacist tells me that they can't have it filled today because the same prescription was filled at the other pharmacy down the road. (I find it very funny when people think we don't find out.) The pharmacist goes to the window. I listen.

“Ok, we put it on hold because it was already picked up at Walgreens.”

I hear four voices protesting angrily. (Four people don't get mad all at once when one person's pain medication isn't ready, I'll give you one guess who it was really for.)

“Ok, you all need to calm down, I'm telling you that it was already purchased at Walgreens.”

“What'd you do? Take it to Walgreens?”

“No, we don't take prescriptions to other stores.”

“I wanna talk to your boss!”
“Well, I am the boss, you don't get any higher than me.”

I can no longer hear over the sound of my own stifled laughter. Pharmacist win.

About a week ago there was another odd customer. He's a regular and no one really knows what to do with him. The man must have some sort of medical condition so I suppose I should feel sorry for him except I don't think he has figured it out yet. Our conversations go like this.

“Hi, are you picking up?”

“muphuphruphup.”

“Um...”

“muphuphruphup.”

“I can't understand you.”

“muphupruphup.”

“Do you need the bathroom key?”

“Muphruph.” No facial expressions, no body language, no sign language, nothing but mumbling and grunting.

“A prescription?”

“Mhuph.”

“Can you write down your name?”

He scrawls a few letters, enough for me to guess his name, and continues grunting and pointing at me.

“Ok we have a prescription we can give you, but it's over the counter so your insurance won't pay for it. Do you want a big jar or a little jar? The little jar will cost less.” We hold up the different jars.

“Mphurph.”

“The big jar?”

“Mphurph.”

“The little jar?”

“Mphur.”

“The little jar is six dollars.”

“Mpuruph.”

“The big one is twenty.”

“Murphurphuprmhp. Hurphmuprph.” He points vaguely at the little can.

“Ok, it's going to be six dollars.”

He walks out of the store leaving us holding the cans. We look at each other, shrug, and go back to work.

I'm no longer the newbie at the Phunny Pharm, there's another new trainee. On one of her first days she is on pick up, or register, which is about all she can do without more training. A man comes to get his prescription. He has an odd last name something that sounded to me like “RonCollins.” The new tech goes to the bins and looks under Collins. When she cannot find it she asks “Mr. Collins” for his name again. He repeats his last name and asks why she can't figure it out.

“She misunderstood sir,” the pharmacist asks. “You said your name quickly and she thought you said your first and last name.”

“I know you people don't bother to learn english.”

I stare at him from across the pharmacy wondering if this man is serious. I mean, the pharmacist on duty and the other tech might be black but they both speak clear english, and I don't exactly look like I immigrated here.

“I'm pretty sure I'm speaking english to you right now sir,” the pharmacist responds.

“Don't you talk to me like that.” The customer takes a step toward the pharmacist.

“You don't need to be rude to my tech, she's just trying to do her job.”

“You don't need to be rude to me! I don't have to put up with this!”

“No you don't, you can leave the pharmacy at any time you like sir.”

I find it most amusing that whenever the customers get mad at anyone in the Phunny Pharm they do it in front of the registers, which means, in front of the cameras.

“Maybe I'll take my business elsewhere!”

“You are free to do that sir.”

He strolls off as if he has somehow won. The moral of the story kids, if you're a mean person we won't be scared, we'll just laugh at you behind the counter and watch the pharmacist put a note in your profile to warn all the other pharmacists. ^.^

Stormy Seas: Part 7

 The noise of the crew had wakened me around dawn. They had loaded the ship and at first I had been afraid that they would find me. After a few crates were packed around my hiding place I felt more secure. There was a little port hole above me with some sunlight coming through the grimy glass.

It was quiet below deck now, though I had heard quite a lot of mean talk about the captain earlier.

A tug boat whistle blew and the boat began to move. A thrill of excitement went through me and I stood up to see out the porthole. I saw the cliffs of the bay to my right and nothing but open ocean ahead. Down below I could see the tugboat, with it's tow ropes straining to drag the ship out to sea.

The city already seemed far away. I sat back down on the canvas. My excitement died away very quickly when I realized that I was in need of the lavatory. I wondered what sort of facilities the ship had and how I would get to one without being discovered.

I looked up at the porthole and around at the crates sheltering my hiding place from the crew who I could hear running about. A squeak and some rustling caught my attention. From one of the coils of rope poked another stow away.

Our house had had mice before and I had felt somewhat sorry for how the things were treated. I had felt that they had not meant to be intruding and I had nearly asked to have one as a pet. This was much different. The rat was large with grimy looking fur and sharp claws. It sniffed the air and surveyed me with malicious, beady eyes. I nearly screamed.

I shoved at it with my booted foot and sent it running deeper into my corner. I stood up quickly and grabbed my little bag. In a moment I was out ducking between stacks of crates. A few of the sailors were coming down the ladder. I crawled on top a crate where I was hidden by some other cargo and the wall, but well off of the floor. I listened as they began tying down a stack of barrels.

“Make it a good knot lad,” I heard one voice say.

“Rather than a bad one?” A younger voice quipped back.

“You'll have to learn your knots or you won't last long on this ship.” I was rather disappointed that he had missed the humor.

“My knots held all during the last voyage,” the younger voice said. “You're pickier than Captain Peck.”

“Mr. Patrick! Mr. Elderton!” a new voice called down.

“Eldon!” the younger voice shouted back.

“Mr. Captain says finish quickly!”

“Tell him he can do it if he wants it done quickly!” the older voice said.

“You're in a nice mood today,” the younger voice said. “Still hungover?”

“Don't say nothin' to me boy.”

Do as he says and say everything, I thought at the younger voice.

“I'll try,” he responded.

I heard their footsteps heading up the ladder again and I slipped cautiously out of my hiding place. The noises above me said that the crew was all hard at work and would not come below for awhile. There might not be another chance to find a new hiding place so I hurried deeper into the ship, carefully watching out for rats as well as crew.  

Stormy Seas: Part 6

 “Any crew aboard?”
The folding door to my bunk was thrown aside and Captain Peck stuck his mustached face in mine. “Oh good, someone's here,” he said. “Get up, we've got to sail.”

“Already?” I asked groggily as I sat up.

“We're behind our usual schedule and the airship pilots are saying there's a storm coming,” he explained. “Get dressed, we've got to be ready to sail with the tide.”

Before I could ask anything else Captain Peck was gone. I got up and pulled a shirt on.

“Mr. Elderton?”

“Eldon,” I called out into the hall.

Ameya came to the door buttoning up his shirt. “We sail already?” he asked.

“I guess so,” I shrugged. I sat on the edge of my bed and pulled my shoes on.

“Rhoden!” Captain Peck shouted. He stalked back down the hallway. I could hear cursing and groaning in his wake.

“Sir?” Rhoden called from the first mate's cabin.

“The others must still be at the tavern. I'm going to go fetch them.”

“We'll load the provisions while you're gone sir,” Rhoden said. He was pulling his coat on as he came into the hall.

“You had better or we'll all starve,” Captain Peck said. He climbed up the ladder and onto the deck.

I grabbed my coat and hurried up as well. On deck I could see that the sun had not yet risen. I could only guess what time it was. 

“Is early, yes?” Ameya said.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair before I put my hat on. “When did the others come back?” I asked.

“Very late,” Ameya said. “I was already asleeping.”

“A pretty short stay, wasn't it?” Rhoden said as he climbed on deck.

“Very short,” Jack, the ship's cook complained. “I've still got a load of rotten food from the last trip to get rid of and cartloads of new coming in!”

“Go help him dump it then Eldon,” Rhoden said. I winced inwardly. It was going to be a smelly morning.

I followed him down into the back of the hold to the galley. We passed the stove and the large oven for cooking breads. Jack threw open the larder door and I gagged on the smell.

“Better roll up your sleeves,” he said. I took off my jacket and hung it on a peg near his white apron.

“This is what we've been eating?” I asked, trying hard to smell anything but the rotting food.

“I cook it,” he insisted. “This is mostly what we've been eating.” He tossed a glass can of asparagus at me.

“Asparagus?” I asked. I tossed it back.

“Well, canned everything we have left.” He set the can back on the shelf. “The rest of it is still mostly edible.”

“So are we heaving it out the window?” I asked.

“No, we're taking it out and giving it to the passerby.” He picked up a large piece of heavily salted meat and dumped it in my hands. I cringed. “Go out and hand it to people, we'll get rid of it in no time.”

I seriously considered leaving it in a heap near the dock. I was not thrilled with the idea of wandering around trying to hand people food that the crew wouldn't eat.

“Go on, I'm coming too,” he said. He handed me another handful wrapped in soggy paper.

“Yes sir,” I said and trudged up on deck.  

Stormy Seas: Part 5

 I had decided on the balcony. If I tried to go out the door someone would see me, and I would not ask them to lie to Aunt. There was always a bit of a chance that the groundskeeper was still out, but I doubted it. I planned to leave only a few footprints in the grass for him to notice tomorrow morning.

My room was on the second floor, but there was a large, soft looking, bush just below the balcony. If I could land on it correctly I should survive the fall unhurt.

Sarah had just left the room after dropping off a packed lunch and saying a quick whispered goodbye. I picked up a long blue coat from my bed and pulled it on. I laced a brown under-bust corset on top of it and stood back to look at myself in my vanity mirror.

Perfect, I thought. It was plain enough that I wouldn't stand out around the docks but still made me look enough like myself that if I was noticed before getting to the lower part of the city, I could talk my way out of being dragged back home.

I picked up a little bag that held my money and a few small belongings, including a full change of underclothes, and tucked the lunch from Sarah into it. I tossed it over my shoulder and blew out the lamp on the dressing table.

Lamplight from the street lit the room through the glass door to the balcony. I opened it, stepped outside, and let it click softly closed behind me. I peered down at my target, the large fat bush. Uncertainty began to creep toward me and glanced back at the door. I sat down on the railing anyway and swung my legs over the edge. I aimed myself at the bush, hoping to land somewhat in it, and jumped.

I hit the bush, crashed through a few of the branches at the side, and landed solidly on my back. I laid there for a moment, winded, but began to worry about the groundskeeper. I forced myself to stand, find my bag, and hurry away from the scene of my crime to the iron fence.

I found a dark space away from the lamps and checked to see if anyone was out. I saw a carriage a ways away but I saw no driver. I put one booted foot up on part of the metal and swung one leg over. I had to spend a moment dragging my skirts over before I could bring my other leg, but I hopped down on the other side in one piece.

Half of my escape was already completed. I turned myself toward the docks to complete the rest of it.

I hurried down the street, keeping to the shadows as best I could, and out of alleys. All of the shops I passed were dark and empty until I crossed over the little bridge to the lower city. I passed by a rowdy tavern and quickly found the docks. I stepped lightly, trying to keep my boots from making too much noise on the wooden dock, and continued keeping to the shadows.

“Hullo thar,” a slurred voice called from the darkness. A man emerged from the shadows, reeking of alcohol. “Whut's a purty gal like you doin allllll by herself.” He came closer.

“I'm delivering a message to one of these ships,” I lied. I tried to make myself sound bold.

“Which ship?” he asked. He belched and I resisted the urge to slap him.

“Lethargy,” I said, remembering the sailor earlier. I couldn't think of any other ship names.

“She's thatta way,” he pointed. “How bout a kiss before ya go?” he grinned toothlessly at me.

“Aren't you charming?” I said sweetly. My heart was pounding so hard I was afraid it would make my voice quiver. “If you stay right here I'll see you when I come back.” I inched around him. “So stay right here until I come back.” I pictured him sitting there years later.

“Stay here,” he repeated. “I'll stay here.”

“Will you be here? If you move I might not see you.”

“I'm stayin right here.” To prove his point he pulled a barrel over to where he had been standing and sat upon it.

“Then I'll be back,” I lied. I turned and ran in the direction he had pointed. When I was out of sight I stopped and let myself calm down. I heard sailors shouting to each other from the deck of one of the ships and hurriedly slunk further away. If I met a sailor any less drunk I was certain to end up murdered in the street.

I turned a corner and saw in the lamplight the name Lethargy painted across a metal hull. It was a big, fat looking ship, and I could see where the name had come from.

I heard stumbling footsteps advancing behind me and a slurring voice calling out “Pretty lady!” The drunkard was following me. I panicked again when I realized that there was nowhere else to run.

There was a rope above me leading up to the darker end of the ship where no lamps had been lighted. It looked like my best chance. I climbed up onto a wooden support for the dock and grasped the rope. I tugged on it and hoped that it would hold my weight.

I pulled myself up and tried to mimic sailors I had seen in moving pictures, crawling upside down with their legs and hands. How ladylike I've become, I thought. Luckily I was in the dark and I hoped that no one would notice me with my petticoats exposed to the air.

I was surprised at how hard it was to get myself moving. The rope was slanting away upwards and I ended up dragging the ankles of my boots on the rough rope. The fibers bit into my hands but the approaching calls made me go on. I was nearly up to the deck when the drunk came into view. I immediately stopped moving and began praying that drink made one's vision poor.

“Pretty lady!” he nearly screamed. I saw him go over toward the walkway that led onto the ship. He passed out of my sight but I could hear him trying to make his way on board.

“Hey! You can't come on here!” A booming voice called.

The drunk stumbled backwards and fell on the dock. A large dark man came down after him. “The pretty lady was comin here!” the drunk insisted.

“There's no ladies on board this ship,” the other man said. I was glad that I wasn't on board yet or I would have made him a liar.

“She said she'd come back but I'm not stupid,” the drunk said.

Not that I had never lied, I thought.

“Look here,” the man said. He picked up the drunk and stood him on his feet. “You leave young women alone. Do you have a wife?”

“Yessir,” the drunk said.

“Then stop drinking and go home to your woman. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, yessir,” he saluted and tried to wriggle free. The man still held him firmly.

“You're lucky we're not so desperate for crew that we'll shanghai lousy drunks. Get yourself home!” He released the drunk and watched as he hurried away back to the town.

I waited silently until the man turned and went back on board. I was beginning to lose my grip and slide downwards.

I began to crawl upwards again and soon my skirts brushed the railing at the front of the ship. I craned my neck back and searched the dark, upside-down deck. When I was sure that no one was there I swung my feet down and let myself drop lightly on board.

I stood for a moment letting my hands have a rest and checked to see if they were bleeding. I was certain that they must look like pin cushions with bits of rope fiber stuck in them.

There was a sort of trapdoor below me that I could see a ladder through. I knelt down and pulled it up slowly and quietly. When I had opened it halfway it began to squeak. I crawled in and climbed down the ladder into a very dark room full of crates and boxes and ship equipment.

I felt my way around, looking for a good hiding spot. I found a little corner behind a stack of barrels with extra coils of rope and what I thought were extra sails folded up. I sat down and put my bag beside me. This will do, I decided.  

LIV 4 WHT?

I was driving home a few days ago and happened to notice the license plate on the Lexus in front of me.

LIV 4 2DY

Live for today. They have a point. It's not a point that I agree with but it does make sense.

“I passed on to you what was most important and what had also been passed on to me. Christ died for our sins, just as the Scriptures said. He was buried, and he was raised from the dead on the third day, just as the Scriptures said.” 1 Corinthians 15:3-4

Either you believe that Christ was raised from the dead, or you do not. How you answer that question is more important than many people would like to think. If Christ was not raised from the dead then the hope Christians have is foolish and not worth having.

“And if Christ has not been raised, then your faith is useless and you are still guilty of your sins. In that case, all who have died believing in Christ are lost! And if our hope in Christ is only for this life, we are more to be pitied than anyone in the world.” 1 Corinthians 15:17-19

If Jesus did not die for everyone's sins then that means we still carry it ourselves and we have no hope of ever coming to God, and, if God did not raise Jesus from the dead after He died for our sins what proof do we have that we will be raised as well to be with God in Heaven? And if we can't be sure that we will one day join Him why do we live for Him now?

“Eat, drink, and be merry for tomorrow we die!” Paul quotes in 1 Corinthians 15:32. Without the hope of being with God tomorrow the only logical step is to indulge in this life. If this is the only life we will live why should we spend it trying to be good? If I want something why shouldn't I take it? Why should I work when I could have more fun doing something else? Why should I stay here at all? I know that without the hope that I have in Christ my life would be so different from what it is now. If I had survived this long without Christ without killing myself I know exactly the type of person I would be.

“But thank God! He gives us victory over sin and death through our Lord Jesus Christ.” 1 Corinthians 15:57
With Christ we have a future beyond this world. Our home is not here, but with Him. If that is what you believe then life can't hurt you. There are bad days but nothing nothing can ever take God from you once you accept Him. He forgets our sins, though they have deeply wounded Him, and loves us. And our love for Him should inspire us to live in a way that pleases Him, to focus every part of our rescued lives for Him.

Either Christ died for you, or He didn't. Your answer is vitally important because it will shape every part of who you are and the rest of your life both earthly and eternal.

“So, my dear brothers and sisters, be strong and immovable. Always work enthusiastically for the Lord, for you know that nothing you do for the Lord is ever useless.” 1 Corinthians 15:58