[center][h2]Cutting Ties[/h2][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/xh9pIsH.jpg[/img][/center]


Shadows grew long as Greenleaf’s sun touched the horizon.   Abby took tah her feet, an’ after a couple good stretches, folded up tha lawn chair fer tha night.  Weren’t necessarily a bad day.  After all, she conjured they got a new passenger an’ a mechanic.  Ms. Winters ain’t called back about haulin’ them beagles, but they’s still time.

Fer now, the deckhand had some other chores.

First come Isaac’s bucket, what she found holdin’ the mouse in tha engine room.  Abby walked it tah tha galley, her mind set on scrubbin’ out tha inside.  There, she seen Yuri, sittin’ at tha big table.  He had a knife in the good hand, usin’ his cast tah flatten out a sleeve on his coveralls.  “Hey,” the girl said.  “Whatcha doin’?”

“Screwing up,” the mechanic chuckled as his eyes rose from his work.  “I need to cut this patch off my sleeve,” he gestured toward a black embroidered shoulder decoration.  The word [b]McSorley[/b] stood out in bold white print.  “More difficult than I conjured, I fear.”

“Here.”  she flipped her jackknife open.  “I’ll git ‘er in two shakes.”  As he sat back, she set about slippin’ tha blade twixt tha patch an’ his sleeve.  While she’s bent over ‘im workin’, Abby seen names signed on Yuri’s cast.  “Booth tha truth?” she chuckled.  “He one ‘o’ them fellas dropped ya off?”

“Lawyer,” Yuri nodded as the knife made short work of removing the patch.  “Got me cut loose from my old job.”  He examined the patch.  “I’m supposed to get rid of this and never say a word about it again.”

She pocketed ‘er knife.  “Sounds a might sad.  Hope they give yah money fer that.”

“Some,” he reflected.  “Sharks on both sides of the table.  Hey,” he changed the subject, “have you seen the captain?”

“Nope,” Abby shook ‘er head.  “Heard tell him’n the Doc had someplace tah be.  D’ja eat yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Pen brung some food back she got this afternoon.”   Abby gestured toward the fridge.  “Got muh name on it.  Yew can have it, if yah want.”

“Thanks,” Yuri’s eyes followed her toward the sink, “but what’re you eating, then?”

“Gotta head out.”  Abby washed the bucket, bein’ careful not tah run water on the decorations Isaac done stuck on the outside.  “Doin’ a little dumpster divin’.  I’ll buy from a street cart after.”

Yuri’s brow lifted.  “Dare I ask?”

“Mouse traps.”  She run a towel inside tha bucket.  “Gotta find a couple more like this’n, so’s I can catch ‘em an’ then set ‘em loose out yonder.”

“You think there’s that many aboard?”

“Hope not.  But Uncle Bob…him as raised me…always said if yah see one, they’s a hunnerd more yah don’t.”

The mechanic responded with an amiable shrug.  “Can’t argue with that logic.  For all the trouble we had on the Mick…”  he halted, remembering the new rule of his path.

Abby seen the light go right outta his eyes.  Whether he’s brought silent ‘cuz what some lawyer fella said or if’n the mem’ry jest hurt too much tah say, she couldn’t suss. “I conjure two traps,” the deckhand said to close tha gap.  “One hereabouts tha galley.  T’other nearby tha shuttle they caught tha first’n.”  She carried tha bucket as she made fer tha shuttle catwalk.  “Need anythin’ while I’m in town?”

“No…but thanks,” Yuri called after her.  He listened to her footfalls, the soft padding of her canvas shoes as they faded aft.  As the silence descended once again,  Yuri lifted the discarded patch.  He nestled it in the plan of his hand.  [i]My life-that-was[/i] the former Engineer’s Mate pondered this last little scrap.  “Sounds a might sad,” he repeated the girl’s words as the patch slid into his pocket.