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John Irving loved all of God’s creatures, even the ones that no one else seemed to care for. They were all innocent, free of sin in his eyes. He grew more and more excited as he neared the barren decks of Erebus. Fitzjames had settled on an Officers meeting and Irving had prided himself on volunteering for the excursion, mostly to cure the rising melancholy from being idle for too long but also to enjoy the company for the departed Sir John’s tittering little monkey named Jacko.
She had always been sweet to him, finding a comfort in his presence which he himself felt honored by as most of the Erebites seemed to tolerate her behavior less and less with each visit. During meetings she would often huddle with him and feast on a few treats left out to distract her from any of the officer’s food. On some occasions like a child she would try to feed John to which he politely would decline. To him, she was a good and gentle creature. To others… well that may not be the case.
Irving heard her before he saw her while coming below deck and dusting off the ice from his jacket and boots. She shrieked while he heard a curse coming from the great room. The monkey came bounding in, biscuit in mouth and heading towards John for sanctuary from a very cross Le Vesconte. She jumped, grabbing onto his uniform and he swiftly brought her up into his arms, holding her as he would a baby.
“God damn the beast! I told James to keep her caged for the evening!” The Lieutenant huffed, glaring at the little beast who cradled the fresh biscuit like it was worthy treasure. If Le Vesconte wasn’t so cross he might have laughed at the exchange. Of course, a man who enjoyed snacks as much as the Frenchmen would be angry over this. John thought to tell Edward and George about it later.
“I’ll make sure she behaves, Henry. Salvage what you can of course. One biscuit should sate her.”
“Do not take offense to this John but you do not know the little devil as we do. She has a bottomless appetite and a disposition for destruction.” Le Vesconte quipped before returning back to the room to a spilled bowl of treats. It was hardly what John would call a mess but he understood that tensions were growing daily.
Jacko chittered to him, refusing to look at Le Vesconte like a guilty child while clinging to her friend and savior. Someone had taken the time to dress the monkey up in warm clothing, a little shirt and pants fit more for a tike but with room for her curly tail. Irving had heard that the dark and grumbly ice master-in-training, Mister Collins had knitted her a few pairs of clothing as the adventure grew colder and colder. Her little paw extended to him, offering him parts of her prize. She was a good creature at heart and that’s what John loved the most about her.
“No thank you Miss Jacko.”