Merchant’s Log http://www.thetreasuremerchants.com
6th Entry
Evening
As I approached my doorway, the young boy jumped up from where he was sitting and ran to help me with my armful of items.
He looked tired and dirty. “I suppose you need a place for the night?” I asked him. “Yes, if you please”. So polite.
I gave him a long, hard look but waited to question him, and opened the door to get us both inside.
I supposed that he might have been used as a Powder Monkey onboard the ship, as so many orphan boys are. Although these are not warring frigates-these great ships used by the Merchant Captains- still, they were fitted with all the necessary accoutrements of defense at sea. These young boys are often picked up off the docks and given an occupation of fetching gun powder in times of battle, or other ship’s duties when not.
It provides them with an occupation, a roof over their heads and food in their bellies for so long as they are at sea. “At least it keeps them off the streets for the time being,” I told myself doubtfully.
I wondered if he was just biding his time, until the ship was due to cast off again, poor soul. Probably hadn’t had a full meal in months.
I led him to the kitchen and lit the stove for the hot water.
I gave him a towel, (with one of the tropical fruit soaps tucked inside) orders to wash up, and as he shuffled off with grumblings under his breath about “taking a bath” I set about seeing to our dinner.
Only ten minutes later and my guest was gratefully seated at the table with a plate of hot steaming corned beef and cabbage, and freshly baked bread from the Market before him.
I admit, I was doubtful of the thoroughness of his bath in so short a time, but kept my own counsel. In any case, I could detect the tropical fragrance of Mango and Lime, and knew that possibly some soap had been utilized in the process.
After he’d eaten a goodly portion and the table was cleared, we settled back to a hot mug of African Nectar tea. The tea’s warm cinnamon notes were soothing, and with my cat curled up and purring on my lap, I put my questions to the young lad.
“And where is the merchant who brought you to shore? Did you say that he was your father?” The day was catching up with me and I’m afraid the details of his seemingly outlandish story were sketchy at best.
“No, he is not my father. My father trusted me into his care before he died and Capn’ Bryson has taken care of me since. He’s a good man and all…..and a good captain, but I do miss my father.”
The boy buried his face in his hot mug of tea.
I knew just how he felt, and experienced a sudden rush of true compassion for the boy and his plight. Although I knew that my father was alive, somewhere, I missed him beyond telling.
“Anyhow”, he continued, “seein’ as we’re casting off in the morning, I just needed a place to stay for the night. Capn’s sleepin’ aboard the “Ol’ Girl”, and I didn’t make it back to the docks in time to check in”.
I cocked my head at him in question. He shrugged, “Capn’s got a real strict rule about curfew, and if you don’t make it back to the ship in time, ya get locked out. I guess I was having too much fun at the Great Market” He hung his head sheepishly.
I felt badly for the boy, so much so, that something was gnawing at me. I could do some good here. Lord knows we all need a chance.
This boy was too young to spend all his days aboard a ship, underfed, and overworked, without a chance for education and learning. Without a chance to know what it is to have the comforts of hearth and home. Perhaps Captain Bryson was a fair man, surely he could see reason in this.
Without taking the time to really think it over, I found myself saying, “What if you could stay behind this trip? What if there was work to be had here, food every day, and you had a place to stay?
I mean, it wouldn’t be easy, you’d have to go to school, and there would be chores to do…….”
“You…you mean….I could stay with you?” His eyes were wide with delight, and I felt a little start of something burning in my own. That blasted wind was blowing something fierce on my way home, must have gotten sand in my eyes.
“I wouldn’t get in the way. I’ll do everything you say!” He almost whispered the last, as if he dared to hope.
I was a bit taken aback by his excitement. “But wouldn’t you miss the ship? Captain Bryson?”
“Of course! I would miss it all, but I want to be somebody! Capn’ says that I got to learn about other things beside’s just sailing if I’m to have my own ship someday. I’m almost nine years old now, and I’m running out of time!”
I felt a twitch at the corner of my mouth, and quickly recovered. It was rare to see such serious, youthful urgency, and a strong sense of awareness in one so young.
In so many ways, he reminded me of myself, and my youthful days of wild adventure aboard my father’s Merchant ship. Oh the times we had, but I wanted more….
I wanted to learn more than what my father could teach me.
He’d left me behind that first spring with a relative. I don’t know who was the sorrier, he or I, at his leaving. School was beginning, and I was to start my learning in truth. By the time he came back at the end of summer, I proudly related to him all I’d learned.
His look of pride positively set my heart to glowing. Yes. I could well understand this boy.
I came back to the moment. “Well, we’ll see. First I must speak with Captain Bryson and ask him for permission to have you stay”.
I felt a stab of fear that the Captain might not be able to do without the young lad at such short notice.
I could see the hope in his eyes, although heavy lidded. I knew I’d have to make up a bed for him, and set about it.
What a day! All thoughts of that long hot bath were now abandoned. I’d have to make a quick rinse of it and catch up on my book reading another night.
I was going to need my sleep if I was going to match wits with this Captain Bryson come morning……
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