Black Sea

Chapter 6

In five days time, the nausea had passed; as everything in life. I started getting more familiar with the crew, and they got to see my place on this ship, but not my worth. The list Anne gave me had two things written on it.

Make sure Captain's orders are carried out.

Check the cargo.

I never complained, though. I carried out these two duties of mine without ever arguing. And day by day, minute per minute, I was growing more and more mad. It was at the usual lunch time, were all fifty of us were gathered to eat that my patience flew away.

“Hello, mate,” a smiling man sat next to me. “I'm Tim Adams, the master gunner.”

I glanced on my left where Tim sat clumsily on a chair, a smile decorating his aquiline features. I removed my eyes from him and continued chewing. Something telling me he still held that bright smile.

“I wanted to find you.”

“Really?” He leaned over the table, his smile widening.

“You must be aware that the ship isn't at its best state. We must keep our depleted stocks of guns ready for battle. I haven't seen any kind of repairing all the days we're sailing and I want that to change immediately.”

“Alright,” he nodded slowly. “I'll have the tools ready for tommorow.”

“I used the word ‘immediately’ for a reason, Tim.”

I met his eyes. They held an expression fully of questions that never surfaced with words. He leaned back, furrowed his eyebrows and let the loud chattering and laughter cover his voice.

“Is there any threat that the Captain hasn't informed us about? That you don't know about?”

I looked blankly ahead of me. I gulped my bite and exhaled slowly. The truth is, that I had no idea if there was a threat. The Captain remained silent every time I asked and smiled with a fake assurance about everything. Probably, not even he knew. But, I was not him. I couldn't handle not knowing. And most importantly, I couldn't handle others knowing that I didn't know.

“No. We're just being careful,” I curted my lips to what appeared to be a smile.

“Then,” he leaned in again, staring deep inside my eyes. “Stop trying to seem superior and giving orders to me if there is no threat. I'll gather the tools, tommorow.”

My palms turned into fists, my jaw tensed and suddenly the disgusting food felt unimportant to my stomach. Tim left a grimace of satisfaction, before leaning against the table and leaving. I pushed the plate aside, got up to my feet and stormed out of the crowded room. I got inside the sleeping quarters and started pacing up and down. Eventually, I fell on the hammock, my breathing never relaxing. I can't even remember how many minutes passed with me staring at the roof.

As my nerves relaxed, my hand moved to my necklace around my neck. I pulled it out of my wet shirt and simply stared at it. I would be a huge dissapointment to any great sailor having held that item. For the first time in my life I felt useless. No one seemed interested to listen to a quartermaster with no power to rule. Sooner or later they would vote me out of that position, I felt it deep within my bones. And my plan would collapse.

Every cell in my body screamed as realisation settled in. I had to do something, prove myself and cast out Anne and Captain who got in my way by controlling the situation. I had to know. My eyes met the black boxes ahead and something clicked in my brain.

Securing the necklace around my neck, I moved slowly towards them. My right hand touched the cutlass in my pocket, as if the mysterious product inside those boxes was a flesh eating monster. I traced my fingers over the wooden surfaces and then placed my ear on them. There was no sound other than the waves thudding against the ship on the background. I took out of my pocket the cutlass, played with it for a moment with my fingers.

Finally, I put as much strength I had in me and stabbed the knife in one of them. At first it was relaxing letting out all the nerves hiding in me, but then I froze. I heard coins jingling inside them. I pulled the knife out, gulping before making a small step back. I locked eyes with another box and stabbed again, the same jingling sound reaching my ears. Again and again meeting the same product inside those black boxes. Coins. On a poor pirate ship.

“Turner!”

I twirled around in a matter of miliseconds. I met Anne, her chest rising and falling faster than usual. Her dark eyes white all around them. They fell to my hands, processing the scenery of me with my cutlass in hand.

“What are you doing here?”

“Foolin' around,” I said, putting it back to its case.

“I don't have time for that,” She murmed and took rushed small steps backwards. “Come up, now!”

She ran away, leaving the door wide opened. I followed her through the crowds of sailors, running inside the sleeping quarters to get their weapons. Only then did my brain understood what was happening. I pushed forward, and increased my speed running after her.

Things on the main deck weren't calmer. I tried to ignore the shouts and energy, and focused on the characteristic hat moving among the sailors. I stopped in the forecastle, where the captain, Anne and some other members were standing. The Captain brushed his beard, Anne was staring at the horizon with intensity. I grabbed the telescope from Anne's hands and looked inside of it.

Right ahead of us, white sails had started showing off.

“English merchant ship,” I commented, handing the telescope to a man on my side.

“We are fighting, ain't we?” Anne turned to Captain, who never met her eyes. Since the response didn't come quickly, her expression shifted from arrogant to self doubting.

“With what weapons, Anne? They still need repairing.”

“Fυck!” she left his side, getting lost somewhere behind me.

Everyone offered solutions out loud, each worse than the other. Only one seemed to make sense, and it was leaving. But, that was the worst thing I could ever agree to. I couldn't return home expected to reviel great news, but instead admit that I left in battle.

I made a few relevant steps near Captain. He acknowledged me with a side glance, before meeting the horizon again. I leaned to his ear, careful not to draw any attention to us.

“I need to speak to you. Privately.”

“Is now the right time to do so, mr Turner?”

“I might have a plan that doesn't require us running away or dying, Captain.”