CAPTAIN’S LOG 5
If you write two logs in one day, is it just one log? Should have this been four and a half?
To hell with it.
I spoke to Francis. Yes, Fart, great idea. Speak to bloody Francis. Smart, tactical, Francis.
He’s told me to stuff myself, in slightly kinder words. I don’t understand it. People are entitled to their secrets, yes, that’s all well and good. But this one involves me, damn it! He’ll pry from me that I’m upset about something, have me talk about it because it upsets the crew! Because I forget things, and I can’t hide my feelings, and it worries the crew and I’m an even worse fecking Captain than I normally am because I’m distracted by bloody emotions .
But as soon as it’s too personal for him, oh, that’s where he draws the line. I want to believe he’s got a good reason. I’m sure he’s got a perfectly logical damned reason. Some solid decision that it’s best I don’t know.
But it’s got to do with me, doesn’t it? I don’t need to know half of the things I’m able to convince people to tell me, but normally it’s because I want to help. I want to help them.
This has to do with me. Don’t I deserve to know?
And yet I don’t know what it is, and he told me to leave.
If he’s not going to tell me, so be it. He won’t. I don’t have to be happy about it. I’m going to have a damn drink.
Well, a third. Fourth? Bloody hell.
Am I really such an awful Captain that everyone has to remind me of it all the damned time? Sure, yes, sure. I’ve got things to work on, don’t we all? I’m not the model of damned perfection. I’ve never been good at anything I tried to do. Why would running a ship be any fecking different?
But I didn’t think that… I worried everyone so much. Father always said not to show my cards. Suppose I’ve never been too skilled at a stone face. I’m angry that he’s right.
I’m angry that I don’t know how to change myself.
I’m angry that I have to. But, if this is what the crew needs, who else have I got but them?
Athven woke up and left while I was gone. I wanted to talk to him. I’m changing his contract. It wouldn’t be fair to the others to pay him a full wage, but I want him to have 25% of a usual wage in addition to working for Audrey’s passage. I want him to have something to work with if he ever has to leave._
Not to say I want him to. Whatever we have, it’s… different than anything I’ve had before. I haven’t felt even a bit like this since I was back on Cerule, and even then, I was young and … it was different.
What am I doing, worry about that at a time like this? I’m damn near useless.
I’m not sure who to be angry at, any more. A few more drinks and I won’t have to worry about it.
You know, I wonder why Francis is the way he is. He wasn’t always like this. I know that he stopped coming out to the taverns with Fart and I after what happened with Hazel. I don’t blame him. But what else weighs so heavily on his mind? I may need to reign in my emotions, but he could stand to have a few more.
It wouldn’t be easy to unravel this. He’s locked tighter than a treasury, and I’m still angry at him. If he wants to be that way, he can keep his bloody secrets.
Of course, I can’t help thinking if something’s so serious for him that he’d actually send me away, I want to help more.
But also, he’s a tosser.
I personally like when I can tell something is wrong for someone. It’s one less step to figuring out if I can help.
But, I’ve been trying to be more responsible. Haven’t drunk so much. Haven’t stayed up so late. Kept logs. Checked on the crew members, even added new ones. I.. thought I was doing better.
Suppose I’ve got a long way to go before anyone thinks of me as anything but the spoiled brat who got grandfathered in to first mate and then murdered the Captain.