A Ship Cursed Part 3

‘Maman.’ He was alive! I ran to his side.

He tried to raise his head, ‘shhh. Quiet, don’t move young man.’

‘Maman.’ Just then I heard footsteps on the stairs behind me. It was the doctor.

‘Henry, what seems to be the matter with… oh, I see,’ the doctor knelt next to me. He looked through his bag, and found a tube of honey which he mixed with water. Slowly, he let the parched man drink. ‘Not too much now.’

After tending to his other wounds the doctor asked if the man could stay with me. I wanted to learn what had happened, to the ship, and to my son, also, I had liked the ship’s elected captain, and wanted to know what had happened to him, besides which I didn’t go out much and had little to do, so I agreed. It would be good to talk to another sailor, once he was able. The doctor gave me instructions on how to care for him, and strict directives not to give him too much food or water: for fear of it bursting his stomach.

The man slept for the next few days, then as the weeks went by he slowly gained strength. ‘How are you doing,’ I said, as I sat down on the chair by the bed.

‘Va te faire foutre,’ he said.

‘Do you speak English?’

‘Euh, oui, a little bit,’ he had a heavy accent.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Pierre.’ He was still weak, and I could see he was getting tired already.