6. He has a meal on his new tug.

After a morning of moving barges around the lad was a little tired, not so much from physical labor, but all of the general activity and excitement had worn on him a little. He sat in the galley smoking and having a cold, incredibly sweet iced tea. The side doors were open and it was bright in there with a cool breeze blowing across the room. Bobby came in and hopped down onto the settee across from him. He had a big smile on his face and he lit a cigarette, smoking it with his funny fingers as if he was having genuine fun.

“Headed to the bay,” he said. The bigger tug lost an engine and she’s limping in with her tow.”

“What do we have to do?” asked the lad.

“We’ll problem just put up a line or two and help her in. It’ll take the strain off of her one engine. The most help we can give is when gets to the dock. Then we’ll need to do the docking since she can’t move around so easy.”

“Should we get ready?”

“You bet. We should get ready for lunch.” He found this, too, to be funny as it could be. He was laughing his cartoon character laugh the whole time he was rooting in cabinets and assembling a set of pans and a cutting board on the counter.

“What’s for lunch?”

“Hot dogs. Can you cut up some onions?”

“Sure. Point the way.”

Bobby showed the lad where the onions were stowed. They were actually beginning to grow. He moved the cutting board to the table and got a dull knife from the dish rack. They didn’t talk while the meal was prepared. The lad was concentrating on mincing the onions as fine as the dull knife would allow, and Bobby was trying to get a malfunctioning can opener to open a can of chili he had pulled from the cabinet. He succeeded in opening the can and dumped the messy contents into a small pan. Then he went to work on the can of pork and beans. Before long, the stove was alive with simmering pans of hot dogs, beans, and chili. The galley smelled like a home now.

“Why don’t-cha run up and ask James what he wants on his,” Bobby suggested.

The lad hopped right up and headed for the door. He took the few steps outside to the side ladder and scurried up it like he’s been in that boat for years. He moved forward on the boat deck and toward the pilothouse door. As he entered, he lost his train of thought for he was distracted by the array of equipment crammed into the little space.

“Hey! How’s it going?” cried James, glad to see him. “What do you think so far?”

The lad was still scanning the new surroundings and barely realized that James had spoken to him. He snapped out of it in a second or two. “It’s going pretty good so far. I like it.”

“You and Bobby getting on alright?”

“Oh, sure. He’s been a lot of help. We’re doing fine.”

“He’s an alright fellow. Just don’t develop any of his habits for complaining and laying around on the job. Just between you and me, that one.”

“Ok. I gotcha.” He had already seen that Bobby could try to hate his job if you let him talk long enough about it. “What do you want on your hot dogs?”

“Man. Hot dogs. Again. Well? I guess some onion and mustard and just a touch of relish. Bring me three? If there’s enough.”

“Plenty. I’ll be right back.” The lad headed back to the galley, unsure if the skipper was kidding or not about the hot dogs.

“And a soda if there are any,” James yelled from the door as the lad ran back to the galley.

“OK!” He yelled back over his shoulder.

When he got to the galley there was a paper plate on the table with three hot dogs on it. All three had mustard, onion, and a little relish on them. He looked at Bobby with a puzzled face. “Why bother running me around if he already knew?” he thought. Just then a hatch in the overhead opened with the sound of scraping plywood. James could see down and bobby handed him up his lunch. There was a brief discussion about the iced tea instead of sodas. The hatch closed and the skinny did a little eye rolling before he sat down to the table. With his ring finger and pinky, he handled the spoons to slather his hot dogs with chili and serve himself some beans. He began to eat with great energy. When he noticed the lad wasn’t sitting yet, he turned and looked at him. Barely able to talk with his mouth crammed full of food, he pointed to the opposite settee and spat out, “Wit. Wet num.”

The lad had to smile. He got over to his side of the galley and got a plate ready with some hot dogs and beans. He ate greedily when he realized that he had only been having coffee and cigarettes all day. Sailing down the river toward the bay on a nice summer day with a good lunch, at a good job, was making him glad he had taken this chance. He was glad to be here. There would be some down time until they got to the bigger boat. Maybe he could find out about his new crewmates.