was here in the first place and that I had nearly been killed. I couldn’t justify that no matter how sweet he had been to me over the last couple of days. Even he had stated that if he’d really had to, he might very well have killed me, sparing me originally only because I was a girl. Still, I had to acknowledge the way he made me laugh and made my stomach flip-flop. I understood he was a thief and that I would probably be psychologically damaged to some extent because of him, but I couldn’t help but care about him. As long as no one else was hurt, I truly didn’t want him to be punished for abducting me.
Morning set in easily, as though the night had never been, and as much as I hated to leave, I remembered what Charlie said about the morning being one of the busiest times of the day. Sure enough, just as I was crossing over to the other side of the deck, Polo and another deckhand came around the corner.
I swore to myself and leaned against a wall with an arrow that pointed to something called Hold 6 & 7. I made a mental note to research ship terminology if and when I ever got the chance. Polo was laughing his Polo laugh, and I had to smile because I had the feeling that Charlie was right—I couldn’t even begin to imagine Polo hurting anyone.
“Addie, Addie, Addie, Addie!” Once I heard his voice I knew I had been caught.
“Hi, Polo.”
He jumped in front of me, bouncing on his heels. “I thought that was you!”
I shushed him. “Hey, keep it down.” I looked over his shoulder, but whoever he was with must have gone the other way.
“Oh, right!” He mimicked my whisper but continued to bounce. I was nervous his behavior might draw some very unwanted attention in my direction. I had to admit that without Charlie around, I was more than uncomfortable about my safety. However, most of the deckhands were on the other side of the deck and seemed rather preoccupied with their work, so I tried not to fret. Despite his erratic movement, I could still see the dirt and grit all over Polo’s face and clothing—it was actually kind of hard to miss.
“Um…what were you doing just now?” I reached and swiped a smear from his safety helmet. Sure enough the new dirt on my fingers smelled like Charlie when he came up from the basement the other day.
“Doing stuff in the engine room. I’m going now to make breakfast for the crew. Oh! Come with me!”
I thought about sitting in the cabin all day long and being stuck with my thoughts of Charlie; I shuddered. “Sure, Polo. Why not?”
Although he didn’t spell it out, I understood that the galley wasn’t supposed to be open before seven in the morning when breakfast was ready. And while the shipping company’s employees ate in the mess hall, Charlie and the rest of the unofficial crew ate in the galley. A second meal was cooked by noon and another around five in the evening. I could see that the main food supplies were stored in a large industrial freezer and refrigerator just below the galley. Next to them were rooms that served as pantries with industrial sized cans of fruit, vegetables, some dried meats, and oils for cooking.
It was explained to me, though, that if you wanted something special, you had to bring it yourself and label it or else someone would consume it in a heartbeat.
“The guys say they don’t know what I’m talking about, but I think they’re lying to me. I think they’re messing with me.” Polo was bouncing, telling me about the snack cake conspiracy that all those around him seemed to be in on.
“I’m sure they’re not eating your food on purpose.” It was taking all of my strength to hoist the huge industrial-sized skillet from a cupboard.
“I was hiding the last box of cupcakes in my room, under dirty coveralls!”
I stifled a laugh, but it was difficult and it came out more like a snort. I recalled the Twinkie outside the cabin door and laughed outright.
I tried to figure out what to do next when Polo began emptying liquid eggs in the skillet. The aluminum pan was visibly abused, scratched and dented from maltreatment.
“Hey there, Polo?”
“Yeah? Yeah? Yeah?”
“Did you cook yesterday?”
He threw his head back and forth violently. “Duh! That’s my job!”