Pirates of the Storm (Stranded In Time Book 1) (4 page)

The Captain frowned, “It seems to me
to be ill-advised to have such weapons - too much power to be
subject to the whims of men.”

“I have to agree with you on that,
Captain,” Jeff said raising his mug, and the Captain clinked his
against it.

“Tell me Mr. Greene, how does a writer
come to be skilled in the ways of hand to hand combat?”

“Well, I’ve been taking martial arts
classes for several years.”

“Classes?”

“Yes, there are schools where people
go to learn how to defend themselves. Mostly Asian martial
arts.”

“Asian?”

“Yes, fighting techniques from Japan,
Korea, China – I guess what you call the Far East now.”

“Aye,” the Captain nodded. “Most
impressive. From the look of Harrison, you gave him quite a
thrashing.”

“Yes, perhaps I should apologize to
him…”

Coxen cut him off, “Absolutely not! It
would be seen as weakness. Mr. Greene, in this day, you must never
show weakness unless you are using it as a ruse. Any weakness you
have will be exploited by others. If you are to survive, you must
be a hard man and never shrink from brutality when it is needed. If
you must strike a man, strike him. If you must kill a man, kill
him. There can be no hesitation!”

“I understand,” Jeff
agreed.

“Good, I would hate to see you die
before you had a chance to adapt to our time,” replied the
Captain.

“So going back to your writing,” the
Captain began. “You said you write of health. That is medicine,
yes?”

“Yes, in a manner of speaking,” Jeff
replied.

“Have you training as a
surgeon?”

“Not as a surgeon. I took some
pre-med, er, preliminary medicine classes in college and I’ve
studied a lot about nutrition and herbal medicine on my
own.”

“If you decide to stay with us, you
could be our ship’s surgeon. Mr. Graves is our acting surgeon now
and I’m afraid his name is apt for his medical prowess,” Coxen said
with a sigh.

Jeff shook his head, “I’m not sure I’d
be much better and I really hope I won’t be here very long – no
offense!”

“None taken,” Coxen replied. “I can
understand your desire to return to your own time, but rest assured
if you do take on the surgeon’s duties you can’t do any worse than
Mr. Graves! Some weeks ago one of the crew came down with the
French pox, which requires the number 10 remedy from the medicine
chest. Mr. Graves discovered we were out of the number 10, so being
the clever ship’s surgeon that he is, he gave the man double the
dose of the number 5 remedy. He went to sleep and never awakened.
I’d assign one of the other men, but none of my crew is likely to
be any better, except for Mr. Robinson perhaps and he has his hands
full running the galley. You might not make the finest ship’s
surgeon, but I feel certain you would make a competent
one.”

“I’ll think about it,” Jeff
said.

“Splendid!” the Captain said as he
picked up the rum bottle to refill their mugs.

The conversation was interrupted by a
knock on the cabin door as Mr. Robinson delivered the evening meal.
After setting the plates on the table, Mr. Robinson asked, “Do you
require anything else, Captain?”

“No, thank you Mr. Robinson, that will
be all for now.” Robinson turned to leave and the Captain leaned
over and swatted him on the butt before the crewman departed with a
smile. The Captain laughed at the puzzled look on Jeff’s face. “Is
there a problem with your supper, Mr. Greene,” Coxen asked with a
grin.

“No, the food looks fine, I uh just,
uh… never mind.”

“Would it alleviate your confusion to
learn that Mr. Robinson is a wench?”

“A wench? You mean a
woman?”

“Yes. Please keep that knowledge to
yourself. As far as I know none of the crew has figured it
out.”

“I will not say a word, but how did
she…”

“Hers is a sad story. She told me that
she had been married to a good man and that they had both been
afflicted with the fever, to which he eventually succumbed, but she
recovered. As is common, her husband’s brother then wed her.
Unfortunately, he was a foul-tempered man, nothing like his
brother. She had been left barren by the fever and when she failed
to bear him a son, he became even more foul-tempered and beat her
daily. She had run away to a nearby town - where I first met her.
She feared being discovered by her husband and she asked to join my
crew as a means of escaping him for good. I certainly did not want
a woman aboard, but she convinced me that she could disguise
herself and I agreed to allow her to try. It was a good decision.
She is quite a good cook, as you will see – at least as good as she
can be with the ingredients we have available. To my surprise she
has also turned out to be a capable crewman. When she first joined
us, she could barely lift a sword, but now she is as good a
swordsman as any other on my crew, with the exception of Mr.
Harrison.”

“I would never have guessed that was a
woman!” Jeff said, shaking his head.

“As per our agreement, she has
continued to disguise herself to avoid issues with the rest of the
crew, but undisguised, she is not lacking in womanly
charms.”

“I take it from your familiarity with
her that you’ve availed yourself of those charms?” Jeff
asked.

“Oh no, don’t misunderstand, Mr.
Greene. While I will not say I have not been tempted, ‘tis bad for
business to consort with a woman onboard your ship. As they say,
hell hath no fury as a woman scorned and the last thing I need is
for her to become jealous of some other wench and slit my throat in
my sleep. I do take some small liberties as you have seen, but it
goes no further than that.”

“You’re a wise man,
Captain.”

“Thank you, Mr. Greene, and I would
advise you to avoid becoming too familiar with Mr. Robinson
yourself.”

“Agreed,” Jeff said with a
nod.

The two men turned to the plates in
front of them. It was a simple meal of fish stew and hunks of a
cracker-like bread, but the Captain was right about Robinson being
a good cook. Jeff and the Captain ate hungrily with few words
between them until they had finished the meal. “More rum, Mr.
Greene?” the Captain said, holding up the bottle.

“No thank you, Captain. My head is
spinning already!”

The Captain laughed, “You’ll need to
build up your tolerance if you are going to stay aboard this ship,
sir!”

“I’ll have to work on that,” Jeff
replied with a smile.

“If you won’t have any more rum, then
perhaps you would enjoy a pipe with me?”

“No thanks, Captain, I don’t smoke,”
Jeff said.

“Don’t smoke, eh?” the Captain said,
raising an eyebrow. “Why on earth not?”

“There are health hazards from
smoking…” Jeff began, but was interrupted by the
Captain.

“Mr. Greene, if you are going to try
to blend in during your stay in my time, I strongly recommend that
you learn the joys of a good pipe. You would do well to at least
give the appearance of enjoying a pipe, as it is very much our
custom and in certain company it might very well be a health hazard
to refuse a smoke.”

“Well, OK, I guess I can at least
practice faking it then,” Jeff nodded.

“Very good,” Coxen smiled as he walked
over to his desk and pulled out a wooden box. He pulled two pipes
from the box and a small pouch of tobacco from his coat. The
Captain filled the pipe bowls and walked back over to the table,
handing one pipe to Jeff before lighting a splint of wood in the
lantern that hung on the wall above the table.

The Captain demonstrated lighting his
own pipe before handing the burning splint to Jeff. Attempting to
mimic Coxen’s pipe-lighting method, Jeff inhaled through the pipe
as he touched the flame inside the bowl of the pipe. As he sucked
in the smoke, his throat burned and he began coughing violently.
The Captain quickly reached over and took the pipe and splint from
Jeff’s hands as Jeff struggled to breathe. Coxen sat back in his
chair and blew out the splint as he laughed to himself. After a few
moments, Jeff caught his breath. “Now… I see… why you enjoy
smoking… so much!” Jeff said, choking through the words.

“Your pipe, Mr. Greene,” the Captain
said, holding it over the table.

“Thanks, I think,” Jeff said, grasping
the pipe and raising the mouthpiece slowly to his mouth.

“Just hold the smoke in your mouth,”
the Captain suggested.

Jeff slowly sucked in, being careful
not to bring the smoke in too far. He coughed slightly as he blew
the smoke out. “Do I really need to do this?” he asked.

Coxen nodded, “There are some who
would take it as the highest insult if you refused to smoke with
them. It’s best that you can at least do it in those situations
that require it.” Jeff continued to carefully suck in and blow out
the smoke. After a time, he was able to do it without coughing and
without even thinking too carefully about the mechanics of it.
Coxen had taken notice, “So now that you may survive the
experience, how do you like the pipe?”

“The pipe is great – truly a beautiful
piece,” he said admiring the detailing on what appeared to be
carved ivory. “I still think smoking is disgusting, but the pipe is
cool!”

“Cool?” the Captain asked, “Has the
flame gone out?”

“No, cool is an expression meaning
that something is nice or interesting.”

“A strange expression,” the Captain
said, shaking his head.

As the waning traces of tobacco burned
up in Jeff’s pipe, he turned to the Captain, “If you’ll excuse me,
Captain, would you direct me to the…”

“To the what?” Coxen
inquired.

“I was going to ask you where the
restroom was, but I realized that there isn’t one.”

“Restroom? You mean your sleeping
berth?”

“No, a restroom is a place where one
goes to relieve himself.”

“Relieve himself of what?”

Jeff shook his head, “Where you go to
pee and crap.”

“You mean piss and shit, the words pee
and crap are for children and wenches!” the Captain
corrected.

“Yes, well, anyway, where might I go
to piss and shit?” “The bucket is to your starboard just outside
the door,” the Captain directed.

Jeff stood up and nearly fell flat on
his face as he was still very much feeling the effects of the rum.
His head was spinning as he staggered toward the cabin door. The
cool breeze of the night air on his face helped him regain his
senses somewhat. It was now dark outside and it took a few moments
for his eyes to adjust to the dim light provided by the moon
overhead. At the far end of the deck, several members of the crew
were sitting in a circle smoking and playing what appeared to be
some sort of dice game. Jeff spotted a wooden bucket tied to a rope
near the rail. He walked over and picked it up. Judging from the
smell that emanated from it, he was thankful that it was dark
enough that he couldn’t really see what the inside of it looked
like. This was no doubt the right bucket. Still wobbly, he decided
to lean his back against the wall for support. He pushed down the
front of his trunks and peed into the bucket and then approached
the rail to dump it. After upending the bucket, he lowered it by
the rope to collect some seawater and rinse it out. He nearly
followed the bucket over the side, but was able to steady himself
on the rail. As he set the bucket back where he found it, he
started to think about the procedure for when he needed to do more
than urinate, but quickly dismissed those thoughts as something to
be dealt with when the time came.

As he stumbled back into the cabin,
the Captain was just re-loading his pipe for another smoke. “Mr.
Greene, I trust you found the bucket.”

“I did, sir.” Jeff nodded.

“Speaking of the ‘restroom’ as you
called it, I was considering your sleeping arrangements,” the
Captain began, “We have some empty berths in the crew’s quarters,
or we could clear a more private area for you in the storage
hold.”

“Don’t go to any trouble for me,
Captain. The crew’s quarters will be fine.”

“Very well. In addition, if you are to
accompany me to Port Royal tomorrow, you shall need some other
clothing. We can’t have you cavorting around town in those strange
skivvies of yours, now can we?”

“No sir, I suppose not.”

“You are a slender man, so my clothes
will be too large. Let me see, most of the slender men are much
shorter than you. By my eye, Robinson though a wench, is actually
the closest in stature.” The Captain walked to the door and stepped
onto the deck. “Robinson?!” Coxen called out to the crew on
deck.

“’
E’s in the galley, sir,”
one of the crew answered.

“Well then fetch him for me!” the
Captain yelled as he stepped back inside the cabin.

A few minutes later, there was a knock
on the door. “Enter,” the Captain boomed.

Robinson stepped through the door and
asked, “You called for me Captain?”