"Swab the deck!" The tabby yelled loudly over the crew and the sound of the rushing water. "You…there!"
The tabby's out stretched paw pointed over to a timid, exotic looking cat. His long tail swayed with the breeze as his tall, slender body cast shadows over the deck. The tom's body was covered in gold, orange, and black patches. His bandana sat lopsided on his head and his outfit seemed even too big for the lanky cat.
"Yes?" the cat asked with fear.
"What's your name?" the aged tabby asked.
"Um…Rowleypaw…sir," The cat answered still scared of the tabby, who seemed to be 3 or 4 times his weight and size.
The nameless tabby was old enough to be his grandfather or maybe older. He had matted fur that had seen better days and his mustache looked like it hadn't been brushed or cut in quite sometime. What scared Rowleypaw the most was that the nails on the cat were long and jagged. They looked as if they could kill a man with one clean slash.
"You must be the new guy," The tabby said as he looked the slick cat over. "My name is Smacklar. I'm not the captain, but I pretty close to it."
The cat seemed more jolly with each word had said. In the end, he sounded like Santa Claus and, frankly, that scared him too.
"Ok, let's stop messing around," Smacklar barked, leaving the niceness behind, "Take this and swab the deck!"
Smacklar pushed a bucket and a scrub brush into his hand. Rowleypaw stood there, unsure of what to really do, but after minutes of contemplating he sat on his rear end and got to work.
The bucket was filled with water, he thought. He wasn't really sure what the substance was. Rowleypaw could swear he saw something moving in the murky water, but did think much of it till it came up and bit him on the finger. Why had he come to work on this ship? Then he remembered why he had come. To follow in the footsteps of his childhood hero, Growltiger. It had seemed like a good idea when he was a young kit, but now that he was older and a little wiser, it wasn't such a good thought.
Night fall upon him as he finished the whole deck. The whole day breaking his back, getting a nasty sunburn, being tripped over by the other crew members, and be the center of their jokes. He didn't like this one bit, but what could he do? He had signed his life away to be on this unbearable ship and what did he have to show for it? Blisters and one nasty sunburn.
"Are you coming to dinner, mate?" the cat with an accent asked.
Rowleypaw looked at his work, unsure if he was allowed. The deck shined in the moonlight. He thought he did a pretty good job on it and deserved a treat. Rowleypaw and the other cat walked into the kitchen, where all the crew members had packed in. The table stretched out across the floor of the dining area. Cats of all colors sat upon buckets, barrels, and crates waiting for their evening meal.
"Um…so what's for dinner?" Rowleypaw perked up, trying to make conversation.
"Oh, you'll love it!" a cat meowed from behind. "It's the cook's specialty."
What Rowleypaw didn't see was the playful glances from the cat to others. The cat moved his seat closer to Rowleypaw so he could see his face when the meal came out.
A few minutes later, a loud bell ring and all the cats started to cheer. Three cats wearing aprons walked into the room, carrying trays filled with bowls. Rowleypaw wondered how they balanced all the bowls like that, but forgot about it when a bowl was put in front of him. Rowleypaw quickly grabbed a spoon, ready to dig in, and then he looked at the bowl. He was startled by what he saw. Two large eyes started back at him and he stared right back.
"Gross!" Rowleypaw thought.
He looked around to see if anyone else had noticed they had just been served a fish head. Everyone was merrily chowing down their food. If he wasn't so hungry he might have had refused, but his stomach was now growling louder than a lion. Rowleypaw picked up his spoon ever so slowly; making sure the fish was not still alive. After a couple minutes of fighting the fish down, he started to get use to the taste and ate the rest in one bite.
Rowleypaw leaned back in his chair with bliss. He lifted up his shirt to reveal a full, furry tummy. He rubbed his tummy and started to relax, when Smacklar burst through the door. He looked distressed and he seemed out of breath.
"Macavity's here!" Smacklar yelled over the pirates loud voices.
The room became completely silent. All you could hear was the heavy panting of Smacklar. Then as fast as their voices hushed they rushed out of the door on to the deck. Rowleypaw still sat in his chair; bewildered of what was going on. Before he could ask what was going on a hand on the back of his shirt yanked him off his seat and out the door.
