Work Text:
Notiss:
I am a say sailor in pord for a few weeks of repares on my ship… I thod thot Id take this time to practiss and improov my riting… repare myself as well... If you wood be willing to convers and correkt my ledders… plees ajress them to Wart… k care of the barkeep heer in this davern…
=*=
Greetings to you, Wart!
My name is Captain Thomas of the merchant ship Royal James- but that is a story for another day. What a treat it was to have found your request posted alongside the bulletins at the tavern. In a sea of wanted scalawags and seafaring supplies, a wanted friend! O my good sir, I hope I’m not being presumptuous, but I do feel we share common ground. I am at something of a crossroads myself, and such reinvention is a touchy business.
I was very moved by your quest for self improvement. How admirable you are. How clear your sense of purpose was, despite what you propose to be weak writing. Why, there is even accidental poetry in it. I paused to correct your “wood” to “would”. I liked the sturdiness of the promise too much. Yes, I “wood” be willing to help, my friend, as steadfastly as a mast pine.
I have corrected the errant spellings on your notice as requested, but I hope you will not mind if I take the liberty of identifying some patterns that appear to need attention, as well. I will strive to keep a kindly eye on your application of silent letters, your tendency to confuse the sometimes very similar sounds of D and T, and the use of soft C.
How often would you like to exchange letters? I visit the tavern for afternoon tea time, daily.
Sincerely,
Captain Thomas
=*=
Captain
Excoos me wile I crall up my hown arss. Fock. I had no idea how hopeless my spelling was. or that I was summuning the devil of detale. the darc dark prinss of punkshuashun to my door. Tell me do your big braney horns katch on the lintel coming in? Just kitting. I can see youve spelled EXCESSIVE PUNCTUATION rite heer here… Write? Write. Cant even make an arss of myself proper. Stop reeding.
I said stop
So. Your still here. Mind of your own I see. I can respekd that. But what do you do Thomas thats lefd you so wanting for a thrill that you need to spy thru a thiket of chiken scradch on the spelling atrossittys of strangers? Is Royal James a royal bore?
Dailys good. I dont roll out of my bunk until dusk these days. if at all. Maybe noing sumones wading on me to write back will give me a shod shot in the arm.
Wart
=*=
My new friend Wart,
What a dire expression that is, upon reflection. I wonder- where do you suppose is the best place to catch a bullet in one’s arm? There’s more disposable mass in the bicep, I’ll grant you, but the forearm is far easier to maneuver.
I must assure you that you have once again put your point across quite clearly. Your misspellings are no indicator of intellect, and your penmanship no predictor of personal worth. You are clearly very intelligent, given your marvelous sense of humor. Would we fault a frog for its hesitation in water, if it had been kept in a dry wooden box all its life? I think not. I consider myself privileged to crack open your lid. Leap off the page, Wart!
I suppose I decided to make myself available to help you at this time because I have little idea how to help myself. Serving someone else may serve to set me in the right direction, as well. You see, I have recently been a cause of great disappointment to my friends and crew, by not understanding what was required of me. This exchange seems very clear cut. I have too much time on my hands with which to pity myself, and this will occupy it otherwise.
I may as well tell you, I am presently a ship’s captain without a ship. There was an I was obliged to loan my vessel out to a friend in need, but I was hoping he’d take rather less time to return... Meanwhile, I’ve hired some conveyance up the coast, but my purse has grown light as I rely on my own vessel for my and my crew’s livelihood. I’ll be in port for some time, shoring up funds.
Would it be all right if I left a book for you? I promise you, your writing will improve by leaps and bounds with increased reading.
Sincerely,
Captain Thomas
=*=
Captain
Not to tell you your bisnuss but it sounds like somone stole your freekin ship mate!
I’m a slowe reed reader and I don’t take very goot care of books. There all boreing rags about bloodluss ritch arsholls who never herd a snees that didnt scare them. But. If you’re willing to orfan one of your poor basdards to my gudder I can’t stop you. Thanks.
Did I get that? If YOU’RE willing. You are. Sharing YOUR book. Belongs to you.
I’m trying to get these fuckin abo a p o s t r o p h e s. Whys something so small got sutch a big word?
Now tha’t I have you, I don't know wha’t to say. Takes me an our to say it. Your letters are so long and I’m about to stard naming all the kinds of clouds I know. Rrrr. Come here ofden?
Wart
=*=
My dear friend Wart,
What a pleasure to see you taking my lessons to heart. As an incentive, here is a list of a few well spelled terms I wager you’ll find useful. I know you’ll use them colorfully as you practice your wickedness with words.
Arse, Arsehole
Bastard
Cock, Cock up
Dick, Dicking around, Dickhead
Freaking
Fuck, Fucker, Fucking
Knockhole
Shit, Shitting
Turd
I always find being descriptive an engaging writing exercise. I would very much enjoy hearing your reflections on the day's clouds, for instance. Or you might tell me about your family? Or what do you look like? I admit, I am intensely curious. Sometimes as I sit in the tavern with my tea, my back to the fire and my belly to the table, I pick a stranger and decide that they are you. Today you wore a beard and a long, flapping coat. You seemed to be in a hurry, no doubt off to make an appointment regarding your ship’s repairs. I’ll bet you’re a captain, too. You have a natural sense of command that emanates even from paper.
Here is a book about horrible, vulgar giants named Gargantua and Pantagruel. I imagine you’ll love it well, once you become acquainted.
Sincerely,
Captain Thomas
=*=
Captain!
I don’t know that a gendle gentlemans ever sent me a letter contaneing cock, a book of bone sucking, and a rekwest to be descriptive before. I’m gobsmacked! Maybe not so in command after all.
Right. Well. There are no clouds today. Or tonight as I write this. The longer I look at the skye the more color I see. Gray. Blue. Red. Strings of gold so brite and real like you coud rap it round your finger. Like a curl of hare. Thats a lot to say for no clouds I reckon.
Me mum was a lawndress. Always k clean. Always poor. She made me leave when I was a lad. Got in trubble and she didn’t want me to get cott cawt. I was sore about it for a wile til I sussed that out. But I still think about her when I fold my cloths. That was the only thing she coud always affort to make perfect. Folding. No rinkles on my shirt. Frayt hems mended up so many times, haff my life I was running round with my naval out.
I don’t no how to descripe myself now. I don’t think of myself from the outside often. The insides hard enoff. No beard thouh! I like it clean cut accept maybe for some chops. Soft. Fare hared but dark eyed. Unusual. Always dresst to ohkashun okajsh
This fucking sucks. That can’t be it. I’ll burn this.
=*=
My fair friend Wart,
I am so glad you did not burn your letter. Your bravery is to be admired all the more, because it blooms despite doubt. Sometimes I regret that I must send your proofread letter back to you, for I wish I could keep one to reread. Your “thickets of chicken scratch” and “strings of gold” are a perfect nest for the imagination, were I a bird. Hmm! I would pick being a hyacinth macaw, if I could. Ara ararauna. What about you?
From your description, I feel as though I would know you at once if ever we met! Birds of a feather, and all. And your writings about your mother, O my heart. I wish I might have met her, too. I would tell her what a bright mind her son is. I have children I have had to separate from, and I promise you, your absence was uneasy for her as well. Sometimes the only way to cope is to imagine you’re looking up at the same beautiful, cloudless night. Everyone you ever loved, sharing a blanket wove by the stars.
Well, that’s such a cozy thought, it’s tuckered me right out. No need for a soother tonight. Still, cheers to you, my friend.
Sincerely,
Captain Thomas.
=*=
My dear friend Wart,
Where have you been? I’ve come to the tavern three days now, with no sign or letter. I hope all is well.
There was a bit of an upset here the other evening. Some ruffian set fire to one of the table tops, and we had to roll the thing out the door. Kept on rolling across the street to the milliner’s shop and smashed a window. Before they knew it, half the hats in the window had been pinched- ugly as they were. On the bright side, there’s more room for dancing in the tavern now!
Sincerely,
Captain Thomas.
=*=
Captain,
I’m sorry I didn’t reply. I had to check in with my cruw crew and it was a hole ordeel. Honestly, is there any bitching like a couple of sailors who’s callosses have had some time to go soft? Teething babes are more reesilliand resiliand resiliant? I want to get it out so you can understand. I want to pour it out of my head, out my ear, like a tea pot. And I want tea! I can’t write any more until I’ve had some tea! Fuck, now I’m the one bitching.
All right. Sorted myself out. Fresh tea, new me.
Wile While I was off I took your book and letters to read over and over so I don’t lose my touch. I think if I had known Gargantua eksisted I wood would have worked at my reading sooner. I didn’t know books were allowed to have that much shitting in them. What ells are you hiding from me Thomas?
Any way. I spose I’d be a crow. But wait I thought I was a frog? I was just gedding used to the water. So if now I’m a bird in the water. Am I a gull? No. I’m like one of those ducks. Paddling like mad where no one can see. Did you ever get far enuv enough north to see the ones with the green heads? That’s me. Pickulls for branes.
Damn now I want pickulls with my tea.
Hungryly,
Wart
=*=
My dear friend Wart,
It sounds as though you’ve been around, in your day! I’d love to say the same. I’d like nothing more than to lose myself in some obscure corner of the map. Where would you suggest I go when I get my ship back? Where would you go, if you could go anywhere? This is the farthest north I’ve ever been, I’m afraid. I’m still stretching my sea legs. I should like to make it all the way up to the gulf of the Saint Lawrence someday, or across the Atlantic. Around the world, even! If I ever meet one of your pickled kind in my travels, I will doff my cap accordingly, and ask if they have any news of you.
I am so pleased that you’re enjoying your reading. I figured something from the least dry spectrum of the library would appeal to a splashy man, such as yourself. A good book is a good friend, and I’m always keen to make an introduction. I promise, if I am holding back anything, it is only my eagerness to flood you with further reading. I can’t imagine the barkeep would appreciate becoming a parcel service!
Thank you for sending me back one of my own letters, fixed up, by the way. Your flair for profanity heightened the imagery to a level I never imagined possible. I laughed so well, I spilt my tea.
Sincerely,
Captain Thomas
=*=
Captain,
O fuck. Fucking fuck! God dammed. I’ve been spelling my own name wrong. Ward. Short for Backward Ass Dumb Shit.
The thing you shoud know about kross crossing ohshuns thinking its a change, is you are still the one doing it. Even if you have a new name.
If I could go anywhere I would go back in time. I’d spell my bloody name right. I’d learn to read and write sooner. If I could have keeped a ledger, I could run a business instead of gone sailoring. Gone tailoring. Mum would have loved that. Maybe I’d meet the same pepull a normal way. H Other side of a counter instead of a swort. Someone would wok into my shop, and weed get started nattering about the cut of a cote and how ugly naval unis are. We’d trade barbs about buddens. Jokes about jackits. I’d make him something fine to ware, and wouldn’t even want the paye. I’d take it! It’d just be a bonus is all.
Akurately,
Ward
=*=
Ward, my unblemished friend,
I spy a bold use of commas on the rise. Your writing really is coming along! You should feel empowered to imagine the new avenues this might open for you. I know this is a tough proposition for men of action such as we, but perhaps it need not preclude life on the sea! You could have the world’s first travelling tailor shop. In business and real estate they say the most important thing is location, location, location, and you could have all of them- all along the coast! Taffeta sails, hoisted by silk cord! A spinning wheel for a helm! O, I’m running away with myself. Seems to be becoming a habit these days. I know what you mean, about crossing oceans.
You’ll be happy to hear, I’m making some headway of my own. My crew and I have devised a business stratagem, taking advantage of the gaps of service offered here in port. With a host of skills, all we really needed was a base of operations. Turns out there are a number of businesses whose staff vacate the premises during lunch hour. Of course, one hour at a time is slow going, but it’s better than nothing. Or fishing. God, I’ve had it up to here with fishing. I’m holding my hand at chin height, but I could go higher!
We need a tie breaker, actually. Tell me, do you find Thomas Enterprises or Thomas and Sons to inspire more trustworthiness? It’s the age old dilemma- the professional polish, or the personal touch? Not to prejudice you, but my vote rhymes with “promise of nuns”…
Sincerely,
Captain Thomas
=*=
Thomas and Sons,
Are you aktual actually renting this offuss space, or are you slipping in as soon as the coast is clear and hanging your own shingull? Not that I’d say anything to anyone about it. I’m cool.
I had the strandgest dream we met. Not really sure where. Not really sure it was you. You never did say what you looked like, you weezle. You were more fethers than anything. Kwills, maybe. At this point if it turns out you're not actually a parrot I’ll be disuppointed. Anyway, I asked you if it was worth it, and you said yes of course. But I don’t know what I meant. There are things that of happened. Things I regret. Things I don’t. I don’t know how they can all hold together. I have to let one half or the other go. Maybe all of it.
Be real with me, mate. Do you think my writing is improved enough that I could write something really impornt? My hand writing, spelling, all of it. If I wrote a letter of apologe like this, would it be good enough? Would someone besides you, someone really learned take it seriesly?
Sincerely,
Ward
=*=
My dear friend Ward,
If I, a stranger have become so very fond of you by your writing, how can one of your intimates be anything but receptive? I do think you’re capable of writing such a letter. You have only occasional missteps, but they are entirely understandable, even without my intervention. If you would still like my input, it would be my pleasure. When you feel ready, write out your first draft and we can polish it to a shine so gleaming, your recipient will have no course but to reflect and forgive. You may even find that just the act of writing provides the relief you seek.
Hmm, what do I look like? Well I confess, I have been quite vain in the past, but in my lowered income, I am finding comfort in utility. I've never worn feathers in my hair, but I have been known to sport a wig with flowers and bows. I do love flowers. Perhaps the most intrinsic drawback of being at sea is being apart from the earth’s flora, and all her soft smells and petals. Lately I’ve been attempting to grow a queue and beard. I find it very dashing on others, but I’m not convinced it’s for me. I may shave to some new configuration tonight, in fact. As I’m currently ashore, at least I can console my tonsorial failure with a walk through a garden.
Sincerely,
Thomas
=*=
Thomas,
I went for a walk in a garden myself, to think things over before I sat down to write. I half thought I might run into you, but our wakeing hours are still at sixes and sevens, I think.
The thing you have to understand is The thing I have to understand is I may not be forgiven by him. Even so, I still have to live with myself. I’ve been trying to. Been trying to be better company for the long hall haul. I want to live happily, despite it all.
Well, here goes. I hope you have some guess to the proper spelling of the names enclosed.
Dear Steed Stede? Steed Bon Stede,
Already I’m in the wrong.
It was wrong what I did. But you left me no choice. What was I supposed to do? I don’t know. I didn’t think. I couldn't think anything but he must hate me
Thomas, I don’t have enough paper to start over every time I fuck up. This is even harder than I thought. I’m so nerviss. Me fingers are cramped. Feel like I’m swiming in my own swet. Its taking me too long to get around to my purpose, I think. I’ll be a day late again. The flower I picked for you will have dried out by the time you get it. But you are pashund pathshunned payshunt… You’ll understand.
Dear Stede,
I don’t know why you didn’t come. But what I did afterward more than her earned it. I can’t ficks what I did to Loushus. I can’t ask you to forgive me for it either, but I am sorry. The books and the ship… I’d pay it back. I would. But I don’t think you’re coming to k collect.
I think sometimes that I took Jim and Frenjy as a ploy to make you chase me. I even drove the ship through a fucking freaking urrycane to slow us down with repairs. Give you a chans to catch up. But you haven’t come back. You’re not coming back. I’m waiting and wanting and changing every day, trying to bring you back. I want to deserve you. I’m going to let them go, soon. I’ll give them copys of this. If anyone can find you, let it be a troo friend.
You were probably right not coming. Not because you were right to hate me. I don’t beleve you did. Just you tend to do the right thing, Stede. You’re honest and kind. when you’re not being a dick. God knows you’re smarter than paint. If you weren’t in trouble, you must have had your reesons. I’m sorry I didn’t sens them.
You didn't ask me to, but I gave up everything for you. Did you need me to fight tooth and nale insted? If I knew, I could have helled you forever. Is it too late to
Stede. I hope you’re happy. I only know how impornt important that is because of you.
Your friend,
Edward
=*=
Dear Ward,
In the midst of all this apologia, I must admit my own shortcomings. I was taken with a headache when I received your letter. Really, I’m still quite poorly. I don’t want to do a lackluster job of it in my condition, so please allow me another night to read it over.
At a glance, perhaps I can offer comfort in the observation that if you and your friend departed company so hastily, perhaps matters resolved rather better than you imagine. These affected parties might have been uninjured, when the dust settled.
Thank you for the flower.
Sincerely,
Captain Thomas
=*=
Dear Ward,
I must beg your pardon again, as this was not our agreement. I think however, we might benefit in meeting. We could sit and talk over your letter together.
I’ll be in at 3 o’clock. I’m usually the only tavern patron with a quill in hand.
Sincerely,
Captain Thomas
=*=
Captain Thomas,
I don’t think we should ever meet. It would be too confussing right now. I’m not sure we should even keep writing. I have more feelings for than I know what to do with except make a mess. You’ve been a good friend to me, but I haven’t been as honest with you.
Please. If you’re not going to give me back that letter you have to burn it. Please. If you really are my friend. I’ll leave your book for you. I’m sorry I dragged you into this.
Ward
=*=
My dear Ed,
I’ve been sitting in the tavern all evening well past my usual hour, night after night, hoping to catch you. You must know Captain Thomas is on your tail. You must be sending someone down with your letters, at some odd hour. Still, I wait. I hope you open this letter and turn around and see me, waiting with open arms. I’ll kiss your poor cramped fingers and write you back my forgiveness with my own, drawn across your skin.
You don’t know how desperate I’ve been to find you and never lose you again. How I’ve dreaded finding you, if it meant discovering that our moment has passed. The opposition has stretched me to extremes, like cardinal directions. I don’t believe our time has passed. I don’t think it can, when it’s as big as this. As big as the whole world. I don’t know how my heart, my ribs can contain it. I’ll have to be run through again, so I can spill it all out.
Now there’s an idea.
=*=
Dear Ward,
You wish me to burn your beautiful letter- but why? No one knows better than I how difficult it was for you to write. What passion you shed upon the page. What heart…
Is it because the Stede in your letter is in fact the notorious pirate Stede Bonnet?
Now I see the difficulty. It’s evidence that you are in criminal league with him. A close, personal friend, even. That would make this letter very precious indeed! Well. If you want it back, you’ll have to ransom it from me yourself. I’ll be taking a room here in the tavern. Feel free to drop in and make a reasonable offer.
I won’t refuse you.
Sincerely,
Your very own Captain
=*=
Stede,
Hope my scratchy quill doesn’t wake you. Then again if my scruffy chin doing loops around you all night doesn’t bother, I reckon its fine.
Be back in an hour. I know a house in d town with an unlocked window and stiky buns every saturday mornin that will blow your mind.
Love,
Ed
