Cast Off

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Authors: Eve Yohalem
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plenty cut cut!”
    â€œYou funny, boy,” Jaya said. ’Twas a warning to Tixfor, but not much of one.
    â€œHow you do so much plenty plenty, Brammetje?” Tixfor went on, ignoring Jaya. “The men say you’re a demon, you stay up all night, no sleep sleep. Is dat true?”
    What was true was I wanted to punch him in his smart face plenty plenty.
    â€œI think I hear your master calling you, Tix,” I said.
    Tixfor laughed and skipped off. Jaya spit betel nut juice into a cup he always kept with him. The stuff turned his teeth red as blood. It reminded me of my granny. She chewed betel too.
    â€œGo and get some more staves, then,” he said to me.
    The staves was in the hold with Petra, so I headed aft. A blockhead mistake—in my mind I was still beating on Tixfor—’cause the room under the fo’c’sle was the other way, and that’s where Jaya would expect the staves was.
    â€œBram,” Jaya called. “Where you going?”
    â€œTo get the staves, Om . I stowed ’em in the hold.”
    â€œThe hold? Why do you—”
    â€œBe right back!” I called, hoping he’d let it drop if I got away fast enough.
    I found Petra knee-deep in guns. She had muskets and pistols piled up around her, and a bunch of open crates told me where she’d got ’em. There was black dirt all over her face and even in her hair, which I still hadn’t gotten used to, tied back in a short pigtail under her knit cap. At least her togs looked like everybody else’s now. Grimy.
    â€œWhat are you doing ?” I whispered.
    â€œCleaning guns,” she said. “I’ve gone through all the rope you left me, and the rest of the staves are over there.” She pointed to a neat bundle leaning against the bulkhead.
    The guns was brand-new, but I couldn’t stop to wonder why Petra thought they needed cleaning. She was no lazy rich girl, I’d give her that. She did all the work I brought her and asked for more. She wanted to know the names of all the ship’s parts and the crew, so I drew ’em in my sketchbook for her and she flipped through the pages over and over until she had it all fixed in her head. Petra didn’t know why I wanted her to do my work. No reason to go into all the ins and outs of being a no-name by-blow. So she didn’t savvy why it did me no good for her to clean up a bunch of guns with no one the wiser. And with Jaya maybe coming after me, I had no time to explain it to her.
    â€œI’m sure the guns look much better now, Miss Petra, but even so, you got to pack ’em all up.”
    â€œBut I haven’t finished yet!”
    â€œI know, but—”
    â€œYou are here, Bram?”
    Jaya .
    â€œHide, Miss Petra,” I whispered. “Quick!”
    She was up before I got the words out, and away into the dark.
    â€œBram?” Jaya called again.
    I kicked Petra’s slippers into a corner, then grabbed the staves and ran out to the main hold.
    â€œBram, what are you—”
    â€œSorry, I was just getting these,” I said, holding up the staves.
    Jaya sized me up good. I stared back ’til my eyes hurt from looking innocent.
    â€œYou are hiding something.” He spit into his cup. “I know this.”
    Sweat ran down the side of my face. I could smell my own fear, and I bet Jaya could smell it too.
    â€œWhat you hide, Bram?”
    I didn’t give him an answer, so Jaya started looking. He moved slow, going from box to box, from tarp to tarp.
    Petra could be behind any one of ’em.
    â€œYou got it wrong, Om, ” I said. “There’s nothing going on. Ayo, please, let’s go finish the barrels.”
    â€œWe finish barrels after I find what you are hiding.”
    Jaya pushed past me and went into Petra’s back room, where he found four boxes of the VOC’s best new guns spread over the floor.
    â€œI thought it was funny you keep staves in

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