Draden and Jasmine

I wasn't like the rest of the crew: I hated whales. I hated how they smelt, how they thrashed, and most of all, how they tasted.

I liked the crew well enough, liked how excited they got when I was up high and yelled out, "There she blows!" And they'd made me feel real welcome and all, like a little brother, when I'd first joined. They hadn't even teased me, about how slow I spoke, like the boys at the monastery had.

I'd never been happy there like I was happy here. It made sense though, my daddy being a whaler and all, well, before he died. My mum drank and cried a lot after that, but always walked outside so I couldn't see. But I could hear. One day she must have walked so far she couldn't find her way back, cause when I woke, she wasn't anywhere. I went to my Pop's house, thinking she might be there. But she wasn't. Just Pop and his cough, that got worse and worse.

Got so bad, one day, Pop told me I was getting a new father. Took a wee boat ride to a place called a monastery. I liked boats, guess I was like my daddy. The father there, who wasn't my real father, made everyone call him 'father' anyways. I thought the man was a bit wrong in the head, but I didn't say nothing.

Ten years I'd spent there, then ten months on the whaler. But today was the first time I'd be going ashore. Captain said it was tradition, first time in port, to pay respects and be taken to lunch. I hoped Captain had money for both, cause I had money for neither.

Captain said they do a mighty-fine lamb roast in the port. I would kill for that. Reckon I'd strangle a lamb right here on the deck, gut it and roast it and gobble it down. Been so long since I'd had lamb, or any type of real meat. Sure I got fish and whale, but they didn't count.
At the port, the townsfolk stared at me and I stared right on back. I'd never seen just folk before, only monks and whalers.

I saw Captain walking right-fast down the gangplank and figured I'd best look lively. I always tried to please Captain. I was in Captain's little boat when they went rowing after the whales. Captain said I was the best rower in his crew.

The crowd kept on staring at me and I kept staring back. The women looked like babies in their bonnets, waving fans like they were rattles. Couldn't see why, they should know they don't make no sound if you wave them. The men, they had these little sticks in their mouths with a chimney on the end. I reckon I would like to try one of those chimney sticks.

One of the men covered his nose with a fine-looking handkerchief. I couldn't smell that bad. I'd had a swim by the ship not three days before. To me the townsfolk smelt lazy, not a hint of sweat amongst them.

We crossed by rows and rows of whale-oil barrels, stacked like the back of a caterpillar. I'd had a pet caterpillar at the monastery, called Petie. But Petie had grown wings and flown away. After that, the father, who wasn't my father, had given me a special pet pig, one that wouldn't grow real big, not big enough for eating anyways.

Said I could have her, so I wouldn't get so lonesome. I'd called that pig Jasmine, cause she was little girl pig. Some folk only called pigs boys' names, but I knew that couldn't be right; there had to be some girl pigs, otherwise where did little pigs come from.

I'd spoiled little Jasmine, with some of my food. She'd squeal and stick her wet nose in the scraps and swallow them down so fast she had to snort.

This older boy, Jack, had said pigs weren't for spoiling; they were for eating. Jack said when Jasmine got big enough, he was going to gut her and cook her up real nice, with apple sauce and all the frills.

One day, I heard Jasmine squealing, like the one time when there was a fox in the pen. And I raced to her, so fast it hurt to run, it hurt to breath, it just hurt to be.