Macbeth

‘You seem like a man with education and ambition, Johnson, but I won’t ask how you ended up here. I doubt I would hear the truth anyway. But my guess is you’re someone who knows how groups function. You know that there’ll always be a pecking order, and everyone will have their role in that order, their place. The captain at the top, the rookie at the bottom. As long as everyone accepts their own and others’ positions in the order we have a working crew. Exactly as I want it. At the moment, however, we have some confusion at the lower end of the pecking order on MS Glamis. We have three potential chickens at the bottom. Sparks because he’s the youngest. You because it’s your first time. And Hutchinson because he’s the most stupid and very difficult to like.’

Another sip.

‘Sparks will survive this trip as the bottom chicken. He’s young, intelligent enough and he’ll learn. And you, Johnson, have moved up the order, I’ve just seen, after what you did to Hutchinson. For all I know, it was a situation you initiated to achieve just this. But if I know Hutch, he started it. Like the stupid idiot he is, he set himself up for another fall. And that’s why he’s looking for someone to be under him. It’ll probably be some poor soul who signs on in Capitol, where we’re going to need a couple of new men as people sign off all the time. Do you understand?’

Duff shrugged.

‘And this is my problem, Johnson. Hutch is going to keep trying, but he is the permanent bottom chicken. And I would prefer another bottom chicken, one who would quietly accept his fate. But as Hutch is an ill-natured troublemaker who considers he’s been given enough beatings in life and now it’s someone else’s turn, he’s going to continue to create a bad atmosphere on board. He’s not a bad engineer, but he makes my crew work worse than it would be without him.’

A loud slurp.

‘So why don’t I get rid of him, you say. And you say that because you’re not a seaman and know nothing about Seafarers’ Union employment contracts, which mean I’m stuck with Hutch until I can get something on him that would give me a so-called objective reason to offload him. Physically attacking a colleague would be one such objective reason...’

Duff nodded.

‘So? All I need from you is a yes and a signature for the Seafarers’ Union. I can get the rest from the witnesses.’

‘We were only playing, Captain. It won’t happen again.’

‘No, it won’t.’ The captain scratched his chin. ‘As I said, I don’t make a habit of delving into my crew’s backgrounds unnecessarily. But I have to say I’ve only seen the grip you had on Hutch used twice before: by the military police and the port police. The common denominator is police. So now I’d like to hear the truth.’

‘The truth?’

‘Yes. Did he attack you?’

Duff eyed the captain. He presumed he had known from the start his real name wasn’t Cliff Johnson and that the galley boy hadn’t worked in any restaurant. All he was asking for was a yes and a false signature. If and when there was ever any discussion of the real identity of this Johnson he would be over the hills and far away.

‘I see. Here’s the truth,’ Duff said, watching the captain lean across the table. ‘We were only playing, Captain.’

The captain leaned back. Put the coffee cup to his mouth. His gaze above the cup was firmly fixed on Duff. Not on Duff’s eyes but higher, on his forehead. The captain’s Adam’s apple went up and down as he swallowed. Then he brought the empty cup hard down on the table.

‘Johnson.’

‘Yes, Captain?’

‘I like you.’

‘Captain?’

‘I have no reason to believe you like Hutch any more than the rest of us. But you’re no snitch. That’s bad news for me as a captain, but it shows integrity. And I respect that, so I won’t mention this matter again. You’re seasick and you’re lying, but I could use more people like you in my crew. Thanks for the coffee.’

The captain got up and left.

Duff remained seated for a couple of seconds. Then he took the empty cup to the galley and put it in the sink. Closed his eyes, placed his hands on the cold shiny metal and swallowed his nausea. What was he doing? Why hadn’t he told him the truth, that Hutch was a bully?

He opened his eyes. Saw his reflection in the saucepan hanging from the shelf in front of him. His heart skipped a beat. His hat had ridden up to his hairline without him noticing. Hutchinson must have clipped it when he swung. The scar shone against his skin like a thick white vapour trail after a plane in the sky. The scar. That was what the captain had been staring at before he put down his cup.

Duff closed his eyes, told himself to relax and think through the whole business.