Some few days after the majority of Third Shift had come out of stasis and Second Shift gone into it, Jack found himself easily settling into his job’s routine. It didn’t have any of the challenges he was used to, of course. There was a great difference between the kludging of gadgets back together and restoring restoring antiques, and the cleaning of a spaceship. One thing both jobs had in common, at least in regards to Jack Pumphrey, was that he took pride in his work. And in taking pride in his work, he found happiness. Be it mopping the floor (and trying to figure out exactly how people could track mud in a space ship) or taking out the garbage (all of which was recycled anyway), he performed his duties without complaint or hesitation. The result was that the Newfie often sang or whistled.

Jack was unaware of it, but most folks vastly preferred the latter to the former. Not only could he not carry a tune in a bucket, there wasn’t an ocean or sea large enough to contain his lack of musical talent. 

He was whistling as he swept up in one of the larger office type rooms in a medical area. Penny had been much on his mind, making him all the happier and his whistle all the louder of late. The debris went into a special can on his custodian’s cart. A meeting of some sort was taking place within an inside conference room of some sort, a meeting where voices were raised in heated debate of some kind; on the other side of the frosted glass window between the two rooms, figures in white lab coats seemed to be gesturing passionately. Jack glanced up once or twice and shook his head sadly. He had no idea what they might be arguing about, but they certainly seemed to be taking their own sweet time about it! The ruckus had been going on before he had arrived to clean and was still continuing even as he was about to finish. Why they didn’t just fight it out or drink it out (or both) was beyond him. It was the surest way to end an argument that he knew of! That he couldn’t check the wastepaper cans in the smaller room irked him, but the custodians were under strict orders not to disturb anyone in cases like this unless it was an absolute emergency.

As he settled his broom and dustpan into the special slots on his cart, he heard the door hiss open behind him. “…find them in any of the ranks, not just the essential personnel? Well, let’s just find out then!” a male voice stated firmly. 

Looking up, Jack found an older man in a white lab coat coming towards him. The balding man had all the look of someone trying to let go of his anger towards one person while wanting to get the good will of another.

“Excuse me, young man,” the authority type figure said by way of greeting, “I was wondering if you might have a moment to spare? There’s some experiments we’d like to try, and we rather need your help.”

Jack pursed his lips as he thought about it. Glancing over the man’s shoulder, he could see four or five other such people all standing in the doorway watching them. Whatever it was about had to be serious. Jack was sure of that because he didn’t smell lemons or anything else that would put such a sour look on their faces. 

“Well, some work to do, b’y,” the Newfie protested honestly. “Mind out now, boss’ll be some angry he thinks I’m off playing patience!”

The doctor type figure paused and blinked at the Newfie, trying to make sense of what was being said. Taking a guess, he gestured to a nearby chair. “Not to worry. This is ship’s business, so should your supervisor take issue I’ll see to it that you are not taken to task, young man. My name is Dr. Lattimore, by the way.”

“Oh. Oh! Well, ship’s business, is it? Can’t say no to dat, s’pose, b’y.” Jack thought on it for a moment longer before shrugging and taking the proffered seat. “Jack, it is. Jack Pumphrey.”

“A… a pleasure, Mr. Pumphrey. Please, make yourself comfortable.” Dr. Lattimore took chair and placed it on the same side of the desk as Jack, sitting across from him casually. “Just a few questions, mind you, it shouldn’t take too long, I think.”

Reaching across the desk, he pulled a stack of large cards towards them and pulled one up to show Jack. “Mr. Pumphrey, would you be so kind as to take a look at the image on this card and tell me what you make of it?”

Jack couldn’t see the harm in such a simple thing and graciously took the card in hand to better examine it. He squinted at it. He turned it one way, then another. He even held it out at arm’s length and then slowly brought it closer until his eyes nearly crossed. In fact, he took his sweet time in taking the measure of the black blotches that marked the white background that he completely missed Dr. Lattimore looking up at the other personnel as though to bid them be patience while expressing that he was just as frustrated with the time the custodian was taking.

“Oh, I sees, I sees,” Jack chuckled finally as he handled the card back to Lattimore, “That there is an ink stain!”

The smile on the doctor’s face slipped a bit even as his cohorts hid their mouths behind their hands. “Technically, it is an ink blot, but-“

“Well, den, here’s yer problem!” Jack leaned in as though to take the man into his confidence. “Just so ya knows, don’t use paper to clean up an ink spill next time. Just makes more of a mess. Best use a damp rag ’n’ follows up wit some solvents.” Before he could be stopped, Jack reached over and looked at the rest of the cards. “Lord love ya far trying, though! Went t’rough a lot of dem tryin’ to clean a mess up, eh? It happens again, you gives me a call, sir.”

Lattimore was sure he heard someone by the door actually stifle a giggle. Determined, however, he pressed on. “Yes, well. Let us perhaps try something else.” The doctor regarded the good natured young man in front of him as he decided his next course of action. He slipped a slim notebook and pencil from his coat pocket. “Let’s try something a little… different. Mr. Pumphrey. I am going to say a few word and after each, I’d like you to say the very first thing that comes to mind.”

“Trouble.”

“Excuse me?”

“Pardon.”

“No-“

“Sure.”

“Sure?”

“Sure, b’y!”

“Mr. Pumphrey, we haven’t started yet!” Lattimore was almost sure he was being put on. He had to be! The whole episode was turning into something right out of a cliched movie or book! While he by no means expected the cleaning man to be of any great intelligence, his responses were simply too farcical to be honest. The fact that he could quite clearly hear one of the other doctors laughing herself silly in the other room did not improve his mood.

“Let’s… let’s start again, Mr. Pumphrey. What comes to mind when I say the word ‘cat’?”

“Boat.”

Lattimore blinked again. “Boat. Really?”

“Oh, yes, by!” came the sincere response.

Silence. Unsure if he should even bother continuing, he scrutinized Jack for any sign of deviltry or mischief. Jack continued to look back innocently. Relenting to finishing what he had started, the doctor found himself in favor of continuing against the odds. “Very well. Mend.”

“Scun up.”

“Boots?”

“Scroop.”

“Rain?”

“Mauzy.”

“Long?”

“Oh, rubbers.”

“Honesty?”

“Jonnick!”

Lattimore sighed and closed his notebook, unsure of either the spelling or the meaning of most of the words the man had just uttered so casually from his mouth. Rubbing at the bridge of his nose, he dared not look up at his fellows as they stood about trying very hard not to interrupt the proceedings. With a deep breath, the doctor straightened in the chair and looked the impromptu subject straight in the eyes. “Mr. Pumphrey, how about we try some basic problem solving and intelligence questions instead? For example, if I were to ask you why manhole covers are round, what would you say?”

Jack laughed out load at the question, shaking his head. “Oh, dat der is easy! Manhole covers is round so dat dey fit inside de round manholes! Can’t put a square cover in a round hole, now cans ya?”

That was obviously too much for someone in his retinue. By the whooping sounds of laughter, he suspected he knew which of his colleagues it was but it was a matter to be dealt with later. “I think that covers it, Mr. Pumphrey.,” he concluded in resignation. “Thank you for your service.”

Jack rose and immediately took the doctor’s hand in firm, strong grip to shake it. The look of shock on the doctor’s face was lost on him as he replied, “Any time. Any time. Best kind!” He wasn’t sure exactly how he might have helped, but that was often the way of the world. They had a problem and they were smart enough to ask a Newfoundlander to help! Jack looked over at the milling group with a wide smile, glad to see there were other folks on the ship who didn’t take life so seriously and knew how to enjoy themselves! He would have loved to know what jokes had been told so raise such laughter, but work was waiting and he wasn’t a man to linger long.

As he moved to push his cart out of the chamber and back into the hallway, he did catch something of what they were saying. “How did he do?” an amused woman asked. “Do you think he’d pass any of the more rigorous tests?”

Lattimore shook his head to express a mix of awe and disappointment, waiting until Jack had exited completely before commenting. “I do not believe the tests were designed with anything like him in mind. Perhaps we should contain our searches to the selected parameters.”

Jack continued to whistle as he pushed his cart on to the next room, a simple lounge for folks to relax in, much like the one near Penny’s room. The thought brought Penny’s smiling face to mind once more, making him whistle all the louder again. He regretted not asking to keep the first card that the doctor had shown him then. Jack was sure the serious man of medicine was unaware of the simple beauties of the world and had been oblivious to how pretty the butterfly-like image had been.