Closer to the Edge

[Tooley Bostay]

Tooley left the cabin with a smile.

The rain which just moments earlier had been showering upon the deck had receded into a light drizzle, and Tooley's footpaws splashed water as he trotted down the stairway leading from the cabin. Spying a small puddle on the deck, the weasel hopped onto it with almost childish glee. He spared a glance at himself and chuckled. He was soaked, fur and fabric alike, but today had been a good one. Even the gray smog currently enveloping the Maiden seemed especially bright.

Tooley took a confident step forward onto the deck when a paw gripped his shoulder. He was turned forcefully and shoved back and around to the side of the stairs.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Tooley protested, straining to get a glimpse of the beast.

"Shut up!" came a throaty whisper.

The two of them turned sharply, and Tooley was shoved out of the rain and into a hollowed-out section beneath the stairway. It was a shadowed place, largely kept secret from prying eyes--one of the few places aboard the Silver Maiden where private conversations actually managed to be somewhat private.

Tooley rubbed at his shoulder tenderly, then turned to see Daggle stepping in behind him. "Daggle? What's all this fer, mate?"

"Call it bein' safe," Daggle said, gripping one of the stairway planks and standing up on his tippaws to squint over it.

Tooley scratched the back of his neck, glancing through a slit at the empty deck. "I'm, er, pretty sure no one's up 'ere but us. It's still stormin' a bit," he noted with a helpful smile. Then, after a thought, he frowned. "So... err... why're ye 'ere?"

Daggle stepped back from the stairs, slapping his paws clean of water. "Ne'er mind you that. What'd she say?"

"The Cap'n?"

Daggle rolled his eyes, an almost comical gesture with his crooked eye. "O' course the captain. Yer tail ain't bein' hauled off the plank, so she musta said somethin'."

"Oh, er..." Tooley scratched at his head. "She said that I was free ter go, and t' get the cook an' th' cat."

"The new beasts?" Daggle looked down for a moment, scratching at the scruff of his chin. "She didn't say nothin' bad to ye?"

Tooley squinted as he thought back. "Well, she said I would be in der... dero... derrylishon o' my duty if'n I didn' get back ter work."

Daggle began to pace, paws gesturing in front of him as he muttered under his breath things that Tooley couldn't make out.

Tooley looked at the rat worriedly. "Somethin' wrong, mate?"

Daggle waved a paw at Tooley. "Let me think."

He continued to pace for several more seconds before raking his claws through his wiry headfur and coming to a stop. He stared at Tooley, then heaved a sigh.

"Tools," the rat began, "we're mates, right? You an' me. Pirates under th' same cloth, right?"

Tooley's brow furrowed, and his shoulders tensed up. This sounded like a serious question. Serious questions never ended well.

"Y-yeah," Tooley said, "'course we are. Apples of a pear, right? Or... was it feathers in a paw?"

"Err, somethin' like that. Look, I been, uh... thinkin'. 'Bout all o' this. And, uh..." Daggle stopped and seemed to search for the right words, then, as if remembering something, he slid a paw into his coat.

"Here, I been meanin' to show ye this," he said, withdrawing a tawny, weathered sack that jingled in his grip. He untied a knot of twine around it and held the bag open for Tooley to see.

It was full of coins. Coins of every shape, color, and size. Tooley reached a paw in and plucked up a grey one, twisting it. Even in the shadows, it managed to glitter.

"Where'd y'get all o' this?" Tooley asked, wide-eyed.

"I, uh, been savin'. Fer a long time. Since before I even met ye, actually. Y'just got to keep a... weather eye out, y'know?"

Tooley regarded the rat skeptically. "Ye ain't been stealin' none o' this, 'ave ye? Cap'n wouldn't like--"

"Tscha!" Daggle threw up his paws and spun on his heel. "It's allers 'Cap'n' this and 'Cap'n' that with ye! Don't ye give any heed t'yerself? She's the whole problem 'ere! We're chasin' after ghost ships an' dream islands, with nuthin' to show but rougher paws and hurtin' backs!"

Tooley took a tense step back, watching the rat cautiously.

"Ye know how many o' me mates I seen dead and bleedin' 'cause o' them Waverunner scum?  Piracy's dyin', mate, and Captain Ciera's at the helm, draggin' us down like a bleedin' anchor."

He trotted forward and swiped the coin from Tooley's paw. He held it up, and through grit teeth growled, "I ain't gonna be 'round when her luck runs out. Y'hear me? Won't be no Waverunner that takes me life!"

Tooley was silent as Daggle threw the coin back into the sack, swiftly tied it, and shoved it deep into his coat. The rat turned briskly around and headed for the exit. He gripped the edge of the stairway and paused. After a moment, his shoulders heaved with a sigh.

"Mate," he said, looking back at Tooley, "whatever y'do, jus'... be careful, all right? These ain't yer friends. Don't ye trust no one, y'hear?" His gaze lowered, and he added, "Not even me."

Puzzled, Tooley watched as Daggle stepped out into the rain and headed for the hatch on the far end of the deck. The weasel's brow furrowed, and he reached up and pulled his cap off his ear. He ran a paw over the many patches. Patches that covered countless memories long forgotten. His claw caught in one of the holes he had gnawed just days before while in the brig. Those days were still fresh in his mind.

After several seconds, he fixed the cap back upon his head and stepped out from beneath the stairway.

The captain had given him a job to do, after all.

---

Tooley had quickly found Vera in the kitchen, and, after informing her of the captain's summons, left just as quickly. There was a beast from the last ship he had served on that Vera reminded him of. Pivel was his name. Nice, always with a smile ready, but never too far from a blade of some sort. They were both foxes, too - crafty beasts to be avoided, Tooley'd been told, and he was inclined to agree.

Below deck, Tooley held a paw against the wall of the barracks as he walked, steadying himself. The waves had calmed after the rain stopped, but he needed the support for another reason.

He'd tried shaking off Daggle's words, but they seemed to stick in his head better than most other words did. The coins Daggle had hidden, his seeming hostility to the captain, and talk of leaving... Tooley needed a place to think. And it needed to be a good place, too. He had never been very good at thinking.

Something bumped into his snout, and Tooley stumbled back, a paw going to his nostril.

"'Ey! Watch where yer goin'!" a rat corsair with yellow-teeth and ale-drenched breath shouted.

"Sorry," Tooley mumbled nasally, hurrying around the rat.

The commotion had drawn the attention of several other pirates, who offered an assortment of ugly looks, sneers, and more than a couple of crude gestures. Some of the corsairs appeared eager to do more than that. Ginson had been tougher than a barnacle and would just as easily have cut any beast that approached him, sure, but he was responsible for much of the crew currently on-board the Maiden, and their loyalties had obviously not died with him.

Furthermore, it was obvious that the captain hadn't shared her opinions with the crewbeasts yet.

Tooley paused for a moment. Had she forgotten, or did she mean to keep it a secret? He shook his head. No, it couldn't be. She'd been busy. They all had been. She'd get around to it, soon enough, for sure.

Spying the door to the cargo hold in front of him, Tooley hopped forward, eager to be done with his assignment. He stopped several feet in front of it, staring at a very drunk and very unconscious ferret sprawled against the door frame.

Gingerly reaching over the beast, he rapped his knuckles against the heavy oak door and called out, "Mister Vasiry! Got a messerg fer ye!"

Tooley stood back and waited, sucking at the roof of his mouth where a tooth jutted out awkwardly over his lip. He hadn't spent much time talking to the new quartermaster. All he knew was that he had been originally been aboard another ship before joining the Maiden. Maybe the quartermaster had more in common with him and Daggle than he had first thought.

He could hear footsteps approaching, and with a heavy click, the door swung open. A gray, striped wildcat stood in the doorframe. A wide-brimmed, blue hat that drooped at the sides rested atop his head, with a pair of green eyes and a wide smile underneath. The smile faltered as he noticed the slumped ferret against the doorframe.

Vasily tapped a foot against the ferret, who crumpled on the floor beside Tooley. "Heh heh, sorry about that. Some of the crew got a bit carried away with the party last night. What can I do for you, uhh... Tawney, right?"

Tooley scratched at his neck, staring briefly at the ferret's lolled-open mouth. "Err, Tooley, ac'shully. The Cap'n wants t' see yer up in 'er cabin. Says she needs t'speak wit' ye."

For a fleeting moment, the smile was gone from Vasily's face, then returned all the stronger with a chuckle. "Oh ho, does she? Well, good! I was just on my way up, as a matter of fact! I'll see what the lady wants, hmm?"

Vasily moved to step over the unconscious ferret, and Tooley backed out of his way. A thought passed through his mind as the cat walked by, and his mouth was moving before he could think to stop.

"Mister Vasiry?"

The cat stopped and turned around, looking at Tooley expectantly.

"Err..." Tooley scratched his forearm, his sight trailing down as if to find the words on the floor. The crumpled ferret did nothing to help in his search, so he looked back up. "What... what d'ye think about this? Err, all o' this, I mean."

Vasily blinked at him, a confused, albeit polite, look on his face.

"Oh, let me try this agin'..." Tooley rubbed a claw against his chin in thought before he continued, "D'ye think there's treasure out there? That th' Cap'n ac'shully knows where we're goin'?"

Vasily regarded Tooley carefully, and spoke slowly as if he was thinking through every single word. "I... think the captain is quite capable. That's why she's done such a good job so far. Wouldn't really be called treasure if it was easy to find, so who knows?"

"But... if'n there's not... An' what then? What if yer fam'ly don't need ye anymore? What if ye ain't got a 'ome t' go back to no more?"

Vasily stared off into the distance for a moment before refocusing on Tooley. "That's a good question, mate. I guess the only thing you can do in that situation is just grab on to something, anything, and never let it go..." He paused, and cleared his throat. "Not that I'd know anything about that, of course."

Before Tooley could respond, Vasily straightened his hat and spun on his heel.

"I better not keep the captain waiting. After all, idle bodies make for... um, well, nothing good."

The wildcat hurried off, pushing past several pirates as he made his way to the hatch stairway. Tooley sighed and leaned against the door to the hold before reaching up and feeling along the rim of his cap, and the seven recently gnawed holes that were there. It was probably time to forget these.

He reached into his waistcoat and withdrew a bundle of fabric scraps, all different colors and shapes that were tied around a spool of thread. He loosed a needle stuck into the wad of cloth, then went to pull his cap off.

As his paw slid up his head, Tooley froze. He ran his palm against his unkempt fur, feeling at the slight depression in his head as he brushed the curled stump of his right ear. It'd always been like that, for as long as he could remember. Not that he ever remembered much - that had also always been true.

Daggle said it was a lucky charm. Others said it was a "difermiddy." Neither sat quite right with Tooley, but as he tenderly scratched a claw against his ear, he realized just how very little he actually knew.

Hat in paw, Tooley sat on the ground and went to work, threading the needle and pulling one of the fabric squares free. He wasn't sure how long he worked - sewing was a delicate business - but finally he put the materials away and set his cap back on his head.

His paws went up to adjust it, lopsided over his ear stump as usual. As soon as he was satisfied, he ran a claw along the edge to feel the new patch, and the single hole that remained just outside of it.

Maybe it was time he start remembering some things.