The foreman grunted once and seemed more interested in a stack of papers clipped to a board than in the eager young wick that’d gotten sent his way.
“Not a harbor dock, right, but a sort of dock. Or ramp,” added Meraki in a chipper tone. He rubbed at his cold hands. How were the mornings on the waterfront so dang cold? “Not sure what you’d lot call it, don’t know the speak ‘round here. New and all. At a warehouse. It’s basically the same though. You’ve got your uh… ropes, and the things you tie them to, and I know the ropes!”
“You know any magic?” asked the foreman in a gravely voice. His eyes flicked up once, and Meraki saw that one of them was milky-blind.
“Ma-magic? Uh…”
“The wicks we got; they magic to help it along. Pull, and the like. Can you do that, boy?”
“Can I do that?” repeated Meraki, uncertain, then he laughed and repeated it in a forcibly confident tone, “Can I do that! Why, of course I can! The fellah over there, he said you pay uh… a shill a day, right?”
The foreman snorted and said, “Awful try. It’s four tally if you stay til dark. Five if you work after dark hits til the whistle blows. Eight if you work clean through morning.”
“And for a wick?” tried Meraki, in a serious tone. He made direct eye contact. “Given the use-ful-ness of the magic and all?”
The man grunted, surveyed the area around them, but they were mostly alone except for some other dockworkers passing by. He said, “Maybe a bonus, if you make use of it. We’ll see. What’s your name?”
“T—Meraki,” he said, hands in his pockets, and he looked over at the dockworkers going to different spots. “So where am I headed, boss?”
The foreman scratched down something on the paper, then tore off a tab and handed the folded paper to him. “Don’t lose this. When you’re done, you come turn it in. You take off, at any time, for any reason, it’s gonna be considered abandoned and you won’t get even a fort from any of it. Go work down on that dock there, ask for Gideon, he’ll show you... the ropes.”
Meraki caught the slightest hint of amusement on the grizzled foreman’s face. Was that a snicker he heard? He frowned slightly, not sure what was so funny, but he shrugged it off and grinned instead. “Gideon! Got it! Thank ye, sir, won’t let ya down!”
The wick fixed his fingerless gloves some, then snapped his vest so it wasn’t as wrinkled looking as it actually was (he’d been sleeping in the same clothes for over a week now). His honey-blond hair hung flat around his brow, mostly covered by a woolen cap he’d pulled over the oily unwashed strands. He strode down to the dock where the foreman had pointed.
“Mornin’!” he greeted the other workers while he passed them by, eager and cheerful with waves to the strangers. None of them paid much mind, other than slight frowns or bemused archs of eyebrows. He noticed another wick not too far away, though judging from the hair and the tattoos, it was most definitely a spoke. Meraki averted his gaze and hoped that the spoke wasn’t Gideon.
“Looking for a Gideon?” he asked the dockworkers, wandering around the dock while the men worked on getting things set for a ship coming in.
“There a Gideon here? Old guy with the blind eye sent me over, says to show me the ropes. Hello, are you Gideon?” he asked a bulky bald man. The man snorted, then pointed down the way toward someone at the very end of the dock.
Meraki followed the gesture, to a human male with black hair and tan skin. He waved as he approached, and called, “Ahoy, you there! You Giddy-on? Name’s Meraki, I’m new. Here to give a hand, maybe even two!”
“What y’ doing there?” he looked to eye whatever it was the man was doing. If he were meant to learn from him, best to start as soon as he could. He needed to watch closely… he’d never worked on a dock before, after all.