*continued from Part 6!*

Circus Pirates - Part 7

The doors opened outside and a small boy came in carrying a silver platter with a large glazed hunk of meat sitting on it. The boy walked behind me and over to Henry, where he set it on the table in front of him.

“Ahhh, roast duck,” Henry said. I watched the men around the table as their eyes turned ravenous at the sight of the bird on the table.

“It’s our last one, sir,” the boy said before bowing out and leaving the room.

“Well, then, a toast!” Henry said, passing a curious pitcher around the table. Angie passed it to Tré, skipping me. Tré filled my mug for me anyways and passed it on.

“To our last meal of land fowl, and to a fair journey ahead!”

“Aye, aye!” was the agreed consensus that rose from the table. Everyone lifted up their glass and chugged the drink. I took my mug and peered at the liquid inside. I wrinkled my nose. It was hardly a liquid. It was more like the consistency of brown oatmeal. I took a gulp anyways. No guts, no glory, I told myself.

I retched forward in my seat, nearly spitting the contents of my mouth on Andrew. I swallowed quickly before I could do any damage. Tré noticed me and put a hand on my shoulder, pulling me back up.

“You a’right there, girl?” He must’ve seen the wild, desperate look in my eyes. He laughed. “Is that your first taste of grog?” he laughed and quickly toned it down, seeing my pleading look. No one else had noticed me yet. They were all discussing the journey they had just embarked on.

The grog must have made it to my system now because there was a somewhat pleasant buzzing in my head. It was an odd sensation though. I stopped trying to listen to what anyone was saying and tried to get a grip on myself. I started feeling warm, and I pushed my sleeves up to my elbows.

“So where did you come from?” I heard the crystal voice asking me. I looked up and saw Andrew looking at me expectantly.

“What?” I asked, still letting my brain sort out my thoughts.

“You know, we’re all from Hanson’s Circus,” Henry said. “We’re curious to know where you come from.”

I looked at Angie. She looked concerned.

“You don’t have to-“

“No, I want you all to know,” I said, interrupting her. I thought of my situation and gathered my thoughts, staring at the content of my mug. I took a gulp of my grog and began.

I told them of my father leaving after my eldest brother died. I told them of my mother raising me and James, and then her death. Then I told them of James’s abuse of me. At some point, Landon ended up in my lap with me rubbing his belly.

I started giggling. I picked up my mug to drink from it, and to my dismay, it was completely empty. Everyone else stared at me, somewhat shocked from my story.

Then Tré started laughing. “Girl, you can’t hold your liquor,” he said taking my mg from my hands and placing it on his other side, away from me. I giggled again, everyone else lightened, and the conversation began again.

The conversation lagged for a little while as all the men dug into the main course, which was being served now. I don’t quite remember what everything tasted like, but it must have been good because I cleaned my plate and even found myself behaving in such slovenly manners as to lick the gravy from my plate. Tré politely handed me another napkin for the mess I made. I giggled again.

Andrew didn’t seem to pay too much attention to me, but I was beginning to realize I was slightly drunk now. Well, maybe a lot drunk, but still. I thought that this was my chance and I began openly flirting with him, and surprisingly, he back with me. It was delightful and it only threw me into more fits of giggles.

“So, do you enjoy the ship’s life thus far?” Andrew asked me, leaning over the table in his slight drunkenness.

“Um, I’ll let you know when I’ve been here for more than eighteen hours,” I giggled.

“Well,” he said. “How ‘bouts I take you ‘round the ship and show you the stars? Bring your dessert!” A small cakey thing with a bit of chocolate was placed in front of me by the cabin boy.

“Okay,” I drawled. I picked up my plate and stumbled out of my chair, my foot catching on the leg of Angie’s. I tripped and braced myself against the wall, using it to hold myself up. I giggled more as the room danced in front of me.

Andrew walked around the table, steadier than I was and he led me by the arm out of the room, and out onto the ship’s deck, bringing his own dessert and fork.

*Part 8 is here!*