...before we sink: july's snippets

Here are July's snippets--as I'm off on the campaign trail all month I haven't had time to write--all the same, enjoy these few tastes of Scuppernong Days. :)

Nick scrubbed at the decks all morning. After an hour or so, pink blisters rose on his palms and protested against being rubbed further against the stone, but Nick dared not rest. Salem-town—even when Nick squinted his hardest—was not even a dark smudge on the horizon. There was nothing now but the sea; and Nick blessed it for being blue and smiling this first leg of the voyage.

-Scuppernong Days

“Didn’t you hear the whistle, lad? It’s time to eat.”Nick scrambled to his feet to see Mr. Nesbit looking much different than he had on the docks. The first-mate had discarded his common clothing and now wore a waistcoat of a violet hue and a long yellow feather in his hat. He wore also a skirted coat and a pair of dark woolen breeches buckled under his knees with bright silver buttons. “Didn’t you hear me, lad?” he asked again. “It’s time to eat. Go to the galley and wait your turn.”

-Scuppernong Days

“What time is it, senior?” Nick asked.“Amaranto. Call me Amaranto.” The Spaniard spoke with only a trace of an accent that floated through his words like the elusive fragrance of curry in a lamb stew.

-Scuppernong Days

Nick pulled away from Amaranto’s heavy hand. “Elliott said I was to be prepared for keel-hauling at three o’clock. Please, sir, let me go!”A ribbon of laughter rippled through the knot of sailors. Amaranto tossed back his head and laughed the heartiest. “Did he now? The little pícaro.”Fisher rolled his eyes. “Never did I see a worse varmint’n that Elliott. Fancy this new little chap pleading to be let go for a keel-hauling!” He broke off into louder laughter than before, and even Black-Swan swiveled her head about and bared her teeth as if joining in the general amusement.

-Scuppernong Days

He liked Cook—there was something oddly comforting in the benign appearance of the fat little man. He wore a buttoned shirt of a reasonably white shade rolled up to his elbows. His hair was non-existent, his eyelashes so light as to give him the appearance of being albino, and his cheeks very pink. He had a soft little under-chin too that Nick considered the crowning point in making Cook look like a very sedate Yorkshire pig.

-Scuppernong Days

"...don’t ye be worried about Cap’n Reynolds. I’m sure we’ll see ‘im someday before th’ ship sinks.”Before the ship sunk? That wasn’t a particularly cheering proposition. Nick decided to ignore the remark and instead lifted the wash-tub in his arms and staggered out the galley door with it. He dumped the lukewarm water over the edge of the ship and watched it rejoin the sea from where it had once been. It fascinated him, the way water never finished its business—it was always going somewhere, from one end of earth to another; never resting.                                                                                                -Scuppernong Days