We, the Drowned - Carsten Jensen [260]
"But it's not my fault," Helmer said, spreading his arms helplessly.
Ivar went to the captain and on behalf of the crew complained about the small portions. By the crew he meant the three boys he shared the fo'c'sle with.
Miss Kristina was in the cabin when Ivar arrived. She was tall and slim, with a mane of chestnut hair, and she had the frank, energetic nature typical of most girls from Marstal. It was in their upbringing; they knew that one day they'd have absolute rule of the home. She also had dimples and a beauty spot by her right nostril, which always made her look as if she'd just dressed up for a party.
At first Bager said nothing. He glanced furtively at his daughter, as if he wanted to ask her opinion. He was clearly caught between his own meanness and the desire to make a good impression on her.
"Just because you've worked on a steamer," Herman snarled. He was present as well and considered himself the captain's spokesman.
"I know maritime law," Ivar said calmly. "We're not getting the food we're entitled to. In the future I insist on seeing the food weighed out." He turned and smiled at Miss Kristina. "You might think it strange to attach such importance to a few grams of food, miss?"
She shook her head and returned his smile, unaffected by the tense atmosphere in the cabin. Herman looked from one to the other with a watchful eye. It was obvious what he thought. Ivar was trying to influence the captain through his daughter.
"Please don't think that we're afraid of hard work, miss," Ivar continued. "We work hard, but most of us have yet to turn twenty. Just take a look at the cook and the two crewmen: they're only fifteen, not even fully grown. And then we work in the fresh air all day. You've probably noticed yourself that the sea air gives you an appetite."
Herman cleared his throat menacingly. Ivar's eloquence had paralyzed him, and he needed to gain time. But Ivar wasn't even looking in his direction. He was still smiling at Miss Kristina, and she was I returning his smile as though they had a secret bond.
Bager didn't seem to notice any of this. But now he spoke—and what he said was so striking that it should have been clear even then that something was bound to go wrong on board the Kristina.
"Five loaves and two fishes," he said. He seemed to be trying to make his voice sound firm, but it was strangely insubstantial, as though his thoughts were somewhere far away.
"Sorry?" Ivar made an effort to be polite. "I don't think I understood you."
Bager raised his voice. "I said five loaves and two fishes. That was all Our Lord Jesus Christ needed to feed five thousand people. Are one cheese, one salami, a tin of liver pâté, and a tin of sardines not enough for you, though you are only four?"
"We're not talking about Bible history. We're on board the Kristina of Marstal, and maritime law states—"
"Do you deny the Lord your God?" Bager said in a sharp tone, giving Ivar an accusing stare. "How is it possible, after God has borne you, clothed you, and kept you for so many days, for you to doubt that He can and will continue to do so?"
Even the articulate Ivar was left speechless by this outburst from the normally taciturn Captain Bager. He gave Kristina a questioning look. She spread her hands, at a loss. You could expect just about anything from a Marstal skipper. He could be unyielding and harsh, unreasonable in his demands, unfair at times. First and foremost he could be stingy. Thrift was essential for his survival. But no one had ever heard a captain back his actions with religious quotations, and certainly not in such foggy terms.
Herman suppressed a brutal laugh. This was promising to be truly entertaining.
"I'm talking about maritime law," Ivar said again, firmly.
Miss Kristina leaned toward Bager and placed her hand