Michelle

[Arabella Porter]

“ma zeh be anglit?” what is this in English? I rested my hand on the table in the galley. Kolfifa stared at me with a stare of resentment. I raised my eyebrow expectantly. He leaned forward on the bench and rested his head in his lanky crossed arms.  “Yala. Atah rotzei lomed anglit oh lo?” come on. You want to study English or not? I tapped my foot and he remained silent.

“lama?” Why? Kolfifa asked. “Yeshli-“ I have-

“Oti?” me? I cut him off. He shrugged and looked away. “Az, ma zeh beh anglit?” So what’s this in English? I tapped the table again with my hand. He sighed.

“Zeh Shulchan”

“English!” I said.

“Tablet.” He said back, banging his fist on the table.

“Table.” I corrected him. He interjected with frustration and let his head fall back in his crossed arms. This was getting nowhere. I moved on.

“Hello, Kolfifa. How are you?” I asked him.

“I’m fine thanks.”

“Ech ata omer….. Mashlomcha? Ma koreh?” I asked him.

“how are you, you alright, what’s up.” He replied tiredly.

“Beseder. Zeh maspik hayom.” Alright, that’s enough today.  I said with a sigh and Kolfifa stood, walking out of the galley. The jerk didn’t even say “toda” thank you. I frowned and walked over to a barrel of pomegranates we had next to the bin. I picked one up, cut it in quarters and peeled off the thin layer of yellow inside skin so I could easily access the seeds with my teeth.

“You’re savage,” I heard a bubbly, foreign female voice say from the doorway. I looked up to see a young woman with sun kissed skin and straight dark brown hair falling to her shoulders. She pulled white gloves off of soft hands and had this warm smile about her that said, “I know something you don’t know” even if it wasn’t so. “You don’t pluck the seeds out and then use a spoon? This must really be a pirate ship.”

“Oh, we only have cutlery for the captain and special guests.” I told her to which she responded with a widened face.

“What?”

“It was a joke.” I smirked. “You’ll need to get used to British sarcasm if you’ll be working on this ship.” My eyes then went to scanning her. White blouse, black vest, tight fitting riding pants and those boots must have been polished by the most ambitious of butlers. I looked back up to her face. “How did you get here?” I asked her, curiosity overcoming a feeling of envy.

“I had to get away from a bad relationship.” She said walking up next to me, her hips swaying side to side until she reached the pomegranate barrel and picked one out, observing it as if it was a work of art. “I ran away with a man that, although my parents and brother loved him, they didn’t feel he was…right….for me.” She turned her eyes to me and squinted into a smiling shrug. “I’m sort of a romantic, you see.” She put the pomegranate down.

“So you’ve always dreamed of working on a pirate ship then, yeah?” I asked, half joking.

“No. This just kind of happened. Anyways, I doubt your captain likes you joking off in the galley. Don’t you have a job?” She asked. I glared up at her.

“I don’t faff about, yeah? Why don’t you bugger off and bother someone else?” I snapped. She grinned at me.

“How very pirate of you; losing your temper?” She laughed.

“I can’t tell if we’re going to get along or if your head will be snapped off by the end of next week.” I grumbled as she started up the stairs to the upper deck.