Hi everyone, here is the first chapter of a book I am writing! I would love any feedback, critiques, praises, hates, I welcome all of it!
The hammocks sway in rhythm with the sea, ropes creaking like tired bones. The air is thick with brine, mildew, and lantern smoke. A sharp, acidic stench cuts through. Pim wakes gagging, hand pressed to her mouth, blinking against the dim light.
She hears the retching from the hammock next to hers. The sound, wet and miserable, and loud enough to make her skull throb. She groans, already knowing who it is, “Samuel…” Pim says feigning another gag, “can you at least warn me before you decide to empty your stomach?”
“It’s not like I had a choice!”
Pim rolls out of her hammock, leaning into the ship’s sway. At least I have a cabin, she tells herself, better than being crammed in the hull with fifty other bodies, sweating and stinking with fear. She adjusts the bindings under her shirt, wincing at the constriction. Comfort has its limits. One slip, one mistake, and the sea will claim me faster than a storm ever could.
“Well, I’m not telling the Quartermaster why you’re absent.” She braces against the creaking wall as she pulls on her boots. She flinches, Samuel is supposed to be in the Crow’s Nest today. If prayers mattered, I’d pray that nothing serious happens today. She looks over at him, green-faced and heaving, and the sight pulls her back to their first night on The Red Minnow.
Pim had been lucky to secure a Gunner’s Mate post on her first voyage. She had expected only a deckhand role, but this position gave her a cabin and the chance to fire the cannons in battle. Samuel, however, had been taken on as a Navigator’s Assistant, learning the stars and scouting for danger in the distance.
That first night, as they unpacked and staked out their hammocks, Pim couldn’t sleep. Samuel muttered incessantly, clutching a small fae talisman. A small wooden pendant carved with fae sigils all in the wood. He was whispering prayers for a safe voyage. The sight of him, seasick and anxious, stuck with her.
Pim has always scoffed at tavern tales of Fae and Sirens. She never felt the need to say prayers, or buy trinkets to protect herself. Why fear what doesn’t exist? Yet, watching Samuel grip his talisman with such reverence stirred something in her, a longing she couldn’t name. She wished she had something to believe in.
The past few years with Samuel were fun. They joke, laugh, and carry out their duties while learning to trust each other. Trust is everything on a ship. Without it, no one survives. Pim doesn’t mock their superstitions; she plays along. If pouring her first drink into the sea keeps the ocean satisfied and earns her crew’s trust, she does it without complaint.
Pim pushes off the wall and mutters to herself, “get it together, someone needs to stay sharp.” She opens the cabin door and climbs the stairs towards the main deck of The Red Minnow.
The sun beats down on her face as she closes her eyes and breathes in deeply. Nothing compares to the clean, salty air after being in a small cabin stinking of vomit. The familiar wood of The Red Minnow creaks beneath her feet, and the crew moves lazily to start their day. There’s a strange tension in the air, a charge that makes her skin prickle. She looks around as the sound of gulls squawk loud and frantic. One hovers almost unnaturally still, wings not beating. Poor little guy, must be so tired. She still stares at the seagull trying to see when he’ll return to normal flight. He doesn’t. She shrugs and instead squints toward the horizon. Dark clouds loom, heavy with threat.
“A storm is approaching.” The Quartermaster announces, “ready your stations!” Pim rolls back her shoulders. Storms are routine here, and she knows the drill. Several of her crew mates can be seen throwing coins into the ocean. Another superstition for good fortune ahead of a storm. Pim flicks a coin into the dark water. The coin seems to linger too long on the surface before sinking. She shakes her head, silly superstitions.
Pim finds her way to the Master Gunner’s cabin; Fabian’s domain, and knocks sharply. “Storm’s coming. I’ll start prepping the gunpowder stores.” Pim can hear scrambling on the other side of the door, tripping, falling, obscenities being shouted. The door bursts open like the flashing boom of a cannon.
“Boy, never knock on my door. Do your work and leave me be. Am I clear?” Fabian,’s deep rasp hinted at years spent drowning his throat in rum. He certainly smelled like it. Pim hides a smirk, Nothing is better than riling him up. Knowing better than to answer him vocally, she wipes off her grin and nods sharply before moving toward the gunpowder barrels.
Fabian took a risk hiring Pim. Her small stature and youthful face did little to inspire confidence. Yet, she quickly proved herself. Knots tied with precision, gunpowder measured with care, cannons aligned perfectly. She learned without formal training, finding herself hanging around the local sailor taverns and taking meticulous notes from eavesdropping on the patrons.
Pim remembers feeling a flicker of pride a year after starting her first voyage. She was ordered to tie a specific knot. Fabian had yelled at her for doing it wrong and sent her off to another task. But when she glanced back, Fabian gave the knot a small nod of approval before walking away, without fixing it. She can’t help but smile at the memory. After a year of proving herself, even Fabian can’t deny her skill.
Pim moves below deck to the gunpowder barrels. Secure the barrels and cannons. Easy enough. Halfway through, she can feel eyes burning at her back. She turns her head slightly. Great, Toby, the other Gunner’s Mate.
“Ol Booze Mouth said to make sure you secure the barrels right.” Pim wants to giggle at the nickname. But she’s not looking like a girl today… or any other day on this ship. Fabian may think she is capable, but he will not trust anyone.
It’s been about four years since Pim found a job on The Red Minnow. Four years of binding her chest, tying back her hair, and dressing in sailor rags. Better than being thrown overboard by suspicious sailors, would it matter if she died at sea? There’s no family looking for her. No distant relatives wondering where she might be. Her only friends are Samuel and Toby, and they don’t even know the whole of her. She clears her throat,
“Better not let Fabian catch you calling him that. And we both know I tie these barrels better than you,” She says, smirking. Toby laughs, a loud, hearty sound. I could listen to him laugh for centuries. Pim lets herself take a fleeting glance at the man in front of her. Strong, wide shoulders. Blond hair, dark grey eyes. He has a sharp, chiseled jawline and lips so perfect- Pim snaps back to the task at hand. “Did you hear Samuel try to drink him under the deck last night?”
“No, I was too busy catchin’ some well deserved shut eye.” Toby says, pausing as curiosity lights his face. This is his first year on The Red Minnow. He allows himself to skate by using his strong physique and overt unjustified confidence. He says he has had experience on other ships before landing here, but everyone on this ship knows that The Red Minnow is a beginning or an end to many sailors’ journeys. Toby leans closer than necessary. Pim stiffens, stifling a gasp at the proximity. "How'd he do?”
“Spillin’ his guts all over the cabin last I saw. He’ll be down for the rest of the day if we’re unlucky.” Pim steps back, creating space. Too close… she thinks, heart skipping. “Here, you can at least do the last knot.” Pim moves over to allow Toby enough space to finalize the task, securing the barrels in place. Toby slaps his strong, calloused hands together like he did all the work. Pim wonders, what else could those hands do?
“There, job done, time for the cannons.” As Toby walks away, Pim glances at his work. Of course it’s loose. She sighs and unties it. The rope seems to pull tighter on its own, causing Pim to pause. Calm down, it’s just tension in the rope. She reties it. Before she runs ahead to catch up with Toby, she catches a whiff of herself. Ugh, I even smell like a man.
Pim’s dream is to become a Master Gunner on a bigger ship. Hopefully on a vessel that doesn’t carry the superstition that women do not belong on the sea, since their “feminine demeanor" will attract “Sirens”, dooming the men on board to sink to the bottom of the sea. Men think they know everything.
In her years of experience, all she has learned is how to keep gunpowder dry, pack a cannon, and secure supplies in case of a storm. The Red Minnow doesn’t see any action in terms of fights and cannon blasts, despite being a pirate vessel. Mainly, it’s picking on the smaller ships that won’t fight back. Stealing food supplies or packages meant for an island that never receives their mail. No one wants to pick a fight they can’t win.
The two Gunner’s Mates make their way onto the upper deck. The clouds have grown dark and menacing. The electricity in the air she felt earlier seems to now steal the air from her lungs. Calm down, take a breath. It’s just a storm. Small, jagged bits of rain start to fall and sting at Pim’s cheeks. If this is all the storm throws at us, she tells herself, we’ll be fine. She glances up at the Crow’s Nest, Samuel has managed to keep his stomach on the inside. She gives him a little wave, that he cautiously returns, before pointing out the sky like Pim hasn’t already noticed.“Five shillings if good old Sam makes it an hour up there,” Toby says with a smirk.
“I bet he won’t last thirty minutes.” They shake hands, before continuing to walk towards the cannons.
Pim and Toby work quickly, tying down each cannon. Toby’s loose and clumsy knots are quickly followed by Pim’s silent fixings as they move. The rain seems to take a mind of its own, falling in patterns that don’t make sense with the wind swishing. Must be the electricity. They finally reach the last cannon and feel thunder rumbling and vibrating The Red Minnow. So much for tossing coins overboard. Lightning strikes in the distance. They look at each other.
Pim’s hard and determined face will not betray her true emotions. She needs to stay in control and lightning terrifies her. The unpredictability of where and when it’ll strike. If it hits wood, the wood will crack and flame. It cannot be controlled. Toby’s face betrays him. His eyes widen, and his grip tightens. This is his first storm on The Red Minnow, possibly his first storm on a ship. Who would have thought a man, two years older than me, claiming years of experience as a deck hand would be scared of a storm?
She feels it first. All of the hair on her arms seems to defy gravity. Then, she sees it. The hair on top of Toby’s head sticks out in the air. Lightning is about to strike. The last knot was tight. Thunder rumbles loud, clear, and encompassing. “Run!” Pim orders. Toby scrambles away. A large wave crashes onto the deck. She slips on the slick wood, sprawling backward just as lightning strikes the main mast with a deafening roar.
baratheonpilled
prguitarman
turnnoffyourmind
areudirty
