1. We're going 4-Wheeling today.
2. My daughter more or less slept through the night.
3. My wife is getting better at feeding my daughter in the middle of the night, so maybe she's not sleeping through, I'm just not being woke.
This post won't make sense unless you've read Part 11.
Mattias flashed him one more knowing smile and walked away. Of course, Stacey knowing that Mattias knew he'd closed his eyes put some more weight back on his shoulders, but at least he was alive and Mattias obviously had no desire to kill him that day. Though, in Mattias's defense, he was like no pirate Stacey had ever met. Maybe he wasn't as bloodthirsty, or crooked, or evil as Stacey had imagined. He'd let Stacey live even though Stacey had obviously shown his luck more than his skill, and before that he'd let Stacey have a chance to show his skill rather than throw him overboard. Mattias would have to be a mystery for another day though. Stacey's head started to hurt, and the rocking of the ship wasn't helping. He steadied himself on his cutting board and looked down at his knives. Each blade he knew exactly how to use, where to cut and how, so that each meal was prepared on time. He knew how sharp they were and how to sharpen them quickly when they got dull. What was he going to do now? It was a life he'd come to know and love, and occupation that fit him. He could cook a full meal for the crew in the middle of storm and not even break a sweat. Would he ever do that again? It didn't seem like Mattias thought the crew needed a cook, but another soldier.
Stacey had never wanted adventure. His mother never read him stories about great war heroes; his father never showed him maps of far off places. Even when he played with his friends he never dreamed of greatness, but dreamed that he had a good job and was a decent person. To be fair, in his mind, he was living his dream up until a couple of days ago. So, while some of us might think of becoming a swashbuckler and of the adventure that might wait for us if our luck didn't run out, Stacey thought about when he could just be a cook again. He thought about when he could work with decent people, so that he could be a decent person.
Finally, the ship stopped rocking long enough for Stacey to bring out his bedroll and ease himself down for the nap Mattias said he needed. Sleep did not come quickly, for while Stacey was exhausted, his mind would not stop going over his predicament. He went down every 'what-if' road he could think of at least ten times and usually came up with the same ending: Him dead on some island, or at sea, without ever meeting Sally again. And when a person can see few alternatives other than death and never seeing loved ones again, it makes sleep hard to find.
Daylight flooded into The Cook's cabin, waking him. He'd slept all day and all night, and Mattias and crew had allowed him to. When he got up, out of habit, he started to make lunch. Sure, Mattias may or may not have been the captain, and the crew may not have been the crew he'd known before, but after several days of catastrophe, one day of making mashed potatoes (before the potatoes went bad) and salt pork sounded nice.