Chapter 5

            The following week mostly consisted of making sure Jim was working hard. Dad had him scrape the urchins off the hull of the ship and made sure there were always dishes to be done. For the most part, Jim was defiant. He either started arguments with my father or gave him an attitude that would normally get him keel-hauled. Of course, I joined in when it came to keeping the cabin boy busy, but I also kept him company while he worked. I’d talk to him while we washed dishes or helped Dad prepare the meals. I hadn’t made much progress in the friendship department, though. Jim was still very aloof.

 

One night, Dad tried to teach the boy how to make a good, sturdy knot. I watched him from on-deck. Jim made the knot and escaped before my father could even finish the demonstration. He walked along the edge of the ship, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

 

“Looks like you’re pretty good with a knot, Mr. Hawkins,” I said with a small smile, walking alongside him, though still on-deck.

 

“Whatever,” he mumbled, causing me to frown.

 

I grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him so that he was looking me in the eyes.

 

“When I speak to you, I expect a decent response, cabin boy,” I said with authority in my voice.

 

“Look who’s talking, kitchen maid,” Jim answered, raising his voice slightly.

 

This caught me off guard and I released his arm, my eyes slightly widened. Jim walked away while I simply stared after him. I’d forgotten my place on this ship and acted like the first mate of my crew, rather than the kitchen maid Jim knew me as. I sighed and smacked my forehead at my stupidity. I should have known better than to make a mistake like that.

 

After a few more weeks of the hard work Jim was given, I noticed the look in my father’s eyes changing. I knew he felt bad for working the boy to the bone. On one occasion, Dad and I found Jim asleep in the galley. He had cleaned very single dish my dad has placed in front of him. My father draped his jacket over Jim’s sleeping form and we left the galley.

 

“You know, Dad, it couldn’t hurt to cut back a little. I think I’m finally getting through to him, so we don’t really have to worry about him snooping around,” I whispered when we were on-deck.

 

My dad nodded his head, obviously thinking over what I had suggested.