Chapter X: The first mate looked over at the bosun

"Uncomfortable?"

"Yes," the bosun said.

"Fine, I thought you'd be." He took out his penknife and began to whittle on a piece of wood.

After a while he said, "You haint mindin' me puttin' hit off this away?"

"No," the bosun said, "suit yourself."

The first mate sent a shaving skittering with his knife blade. "Shucks," he said, "there hain't really no hurry."

The bosun raised his head from his chest and shook the hair out of his face. "Not really, when you consider it," he said.

"Yep, that's right." The first mate began to work on the point of the stick; he sharpened it down to needle fineness, and then he carefully cut in the barb. "Hain't very strong wood; them barbs are cut against the grain, an' they're liable ta split off when I try ta pull 'em out."

"I hope not," the bosun said.

The first mate said, "Yep, I'm shore afraid they're a-gonna do jest that little trick."

"Look," said the bosun, "this hair's gettin' in my eyes. I wunder if you'd mind kinda snippin' it off?"

"Not a-tall," the first mate said.

He walked over to the bosun, grabbed a handful of hair and sawed it off with the penknife.

"That better?"

"It shore is. Thanks."

"Not a-tall."

The first mate threw down the stick on the table. "Really should uv cut that before."

"I suppose so," the bosun said.

"'Course I warn't hable to see what uz in th' priest's mind."

"No, that's true," the bosun agreed.

The first mate walked over and picked up the typewritten instructions.

"You're a-gonna get a fine Castin' Off," he said.

"I should," the bosun said. "It ain't everybody can be th' Sole Survivor."

"That's true," the first mate said. "Well," he said after a minute, "I jest guess I know them there instructions fine as anything. I suspect we may as well start, iffen hits agreeable ta you."

"I'm ready," the bosun said.

The first mate took his penknife and tested the edge with his thumb. "Shore is sharp," he said. "Ought ta be. I jest got done a-honin' hit."

* * * * *

He walked over to where the bosun was hanging.

"Well," he said. "No time like the present."

He raised the knife.

"Jest a minute," he said. "I think I'll get me some music on the radio. You don't mind?"

"No," said the bosun. "Not a bit."

The first mate walked to the hyperspace radio and flicked on the dial. After fiddling with it for some time, he picked up a symphony being broadcast from Kque. "There," he said, "that's th' kind uv music I shore do like ta hear."

The music welled out and filled the room with sound.

"Shore is purty," the bosun said.

The first mate walked back to him.

"Guess I'll start on your back," he said. He reached up and ripped the bosun's shirt off.

Then, when the back was laid bare, he made a very shallow cut running the length of the shoulders from armpit to armpit.

"Be kinda hard ta get started," he said.

He put the penknife in the incision and began to pry the skin loose. "Gonna take me a long time ta get a hand holt," he said. "Course onct I do, hit'll be as easy as skinnin' a skunk."

"Take yer time," the bosun said.

"Aim to."

The music turned quiet and sounded of the rippling brooks on far Corazon; it reflected the vast meadows of Nid and the giant, silver-capped mountains of Muri. A cello picked up the theme and ran it, in rich notes, over the whole surface of the dead world, Astolath. A whining oboe piped of the sweet winds from Zoltah; and the brass beat out the finny rhythm of the water world of Du.

"'Scuse me," the first mate said. He laid down the penknife and walked to the radio. With a flick of his wrist, he cut it off.

"What uz th' matter with hit?" the bosun asked.

"Didn't ja notice?" said the first mate. "Th' third fiddle was sour."

"Guess I wasn't listenin' close enough," said the bosun.

The first mate returned to his work. "May as well get on with it," he said.

He raised the penknife again.

* * * * *

Martha threw the door open. "Here!" she said. She swung Joey around in front of her by the left ear. "I'm going to have to leave him in here with you, where he won't get into trouble."

The first mate laid aside the penknife.

"Martha," he said, "I jest plain don't like kids."

"I'm sorry," she said, "But I just can't keep him with the rest of the children. I just can't."

"Whatud he do?" the bosun asked.

"Do? Let me tell you," Martha said. "First, he...."

"I didn't," Joey said.

"I haint got no all day ta listen ta ya, woman," the first mate said.

"Well. The worst of it was with little Jane. Do you know what he tried to do to her?"

"No, and I shore don't care," said the first mate testily.

"Well, first he got her down under the table; and then he sat on her; and if I hadn't stopped him, he would have pounded her brains out against the deck."

"My, my," said the bosun.

"That hain't a-tall nice."

"Grownups do it," Joey said.

"That's entirely different," the bosun said.

"No, it ain't. You just don't like me, that's all."

"Little Jane wasn't ready," Martha said. "She hasn't had a chance to do her duty."

"It don't matter," Joey said.

"Little boy," said the bosun, "do you know where people go who talk that way?"

"I don't care," Joey said.

"You see? I'll simply have to leave him in here with you."

"All right," the first mate agreed reluctantly. "Now, little boy," he said, "you hain't a-gonna bother me, hear? I'm very busy. You jest go over there and watch."

"Yes," said the bosun.

Martha said, "Well, I better get back to the other children."

She left and the first mate turned back to his job.

"What's he crying for?" Joey asked.

"'Cause it hurts," the first mate explained.

"You missed somethin' there in th' back," Joey said.

"Why did you try to choke that little girl?" the mate asked.

"'Cause I wanted to."

"Well," the first mate said, "that's why I left that little patch o' skin."

"Oh," said Joey.

He stood up and walked around the bosun.

"What're ya gonna do next?" he asked.

"Be still," said the bosun.

"I bet I know," Joey said. "I'll bet you're gonna take that little stick over there an' stick it in him."

"That shore ... is right," the bosun said proudly.

"Can I, huh?"

"No," the first mate said.

"Why not? All ya gotta do is...." He picked up the stick and lunged at the bosun.

* * * * *

The first mate tripped him and took the stick away from him.

"Let him alone," the bosun said to Joey. "He's doin' jest fine."

"Thankee," said the first mate.

Martha came back.

"Is he bothering you? We could put him in the ice with the new crew," she said.

"Fine," the first mate said.

"Oh, no," Joey said. "You gotta catch me first." He began to back away from Martha.

She took a step toward him.

He turned and started to run.

"Thought so," she said. She had been holding one hand behind her. It contained a plastic ash-tray. She caught him squarely between the ears with it, and he went down.

"Good heave, Martha!" the first mate said.

She walked over to Joey, picked him up and started to the door.

At the door she paused.

"What did you say you wanted for supper, Fontelroy?"

"Two aigs," he said.