Of Crab Tins and Diamonds

Chapter 7: Of First Days and Terriers

There was no denying it. It simply astounded Tintin how every part of the Karaboujan seemed to move or breathe in some strange way. Muffled shouts and metallic hammers from above were her voice, tinkling but strong. The thunderous rush of blood echoed from the engine room below Tintin's feet, harmonized by the occasional hiss of steam from the rickety pipes above.

The hallways were no exception in participating in this breathing orchestra.

In a comfortable silence, Tintin strolled alongside Ernie, blinking at every buzz and hiss from the metal walls and ceiling. Although unseen by Tintin, Ernie would occasionally lift his eyes to every shout and order screeched across the upper decks, relieved when he heard no one was calling out his name. With a tilt of his head Tintin watched as Snowy sniffed at the squeaks and pitter-patter of hidden vermin in the floorboards, paws itching to chase after a nice, juicy rat.

After several minutes of walking through the motley ensemble, Ernie turned to look at Tintin with a soft smile.

"So, Tintin," The grizzled sailor began, eyes bright, "is this your first time working on a freighter?"

With a nod, Tintin looked up, "Yes. I've never taken a job like this before."

Ernie laughed, "Don't worry, mate. You'll get the hang of it soon enough."

Looking aside, Tintin's brow creased in worry, "I hope so..." he murmured low, too low for his fellow shipmate to hear.

"Tell me, Tintin..." Ernie continued merrily, oblivious to his co-workers concern, "What made you want to become a sailor?"

"Well..." Tintin began, thinking carefully about his answer, "I... don't know, really. I was tired of my old job, I guess." Tintin meet Ernies gaze again, "I wanted... needed something different."

A sly smirk formed on Ernie's lips, "So you thought 'somethin' different' was running errands on a ship instead, huh?"

Throwing back his head, Ernie gave a hearty laugh at his own joke while Tintin, blood rushing to his cheeks, chuckled quietly alongside him.

"I know, it sounds crazy, doesn't it?"

"No, kid." Ernie snickered as he slapped Tintin firmly on the shoulder, "It's not crazy at all."

Rubbing his sore arm, Tintin smiled, "So you can say that being a sailor is quite an adventure?"

At this lighthearted question, Ernie's face inhumanly changed, his merry attitude and wide smile punched out like a light. The sailors eyes found a spot on the floor and he stared blankly.

"Yes... It's... the best you get." the large man murmured softly, almost choked out, before he resumed his normal pace.

Confused at Ernie's tense response, Tintin hurried to keep up with his crew mate's long strides, but said nothing more to the man as they traveled through the wide, winding hallways. A few minutes later, the pair spotted the all too familiar rusty door and stopped in front of it.

"Well, here we are." Ernie stated, matter-of-factly, as he attempted to push the stubborn door open with his shoulder.

"Oh," Tintin tried to smile convincingly as his eyes watered from the stench radiating from the cabin, "I remember this room from when Tom showed it to me. It's... nice."

"Eh," Ernie muttered, giving the rusty door a swift kick to gain more access, "Don't flatter yourself, kid. In case you've forgotten, there's not much to see on this ship. Trust me."

Finally, after another brute shove, Ernie got the door to open and wasted no time to make a straight path to their bunks. Tintin took his time peering around the cabin, eyeballing every leaky nook and cranny with growing discomfort. If possible, the cabin looked and smelled even filthier than when he'd last seen it, useless junk and overflowing waste bins in seated in corner.