Twisted Cross

“How many of the crew do you figure will become fish food in the next month?” He tossed his hand rags into the ocean, spat in his palms and rubbed them together.

   “Okay, you’re the one keeping track of bodies. Tell me this, have you noticed we only see the Brothers for last rites?” Sal said. “Where are they quartered?” Sal suspected the religious men on board enjoyed special comforts and privileges. If he fed his resentments, his fears shrunk.

   “Near the Captain’s quarters, I’ll bet,” Blas said. “They look clean and well-fed, not like the rest of us.” Blas subconsciously made the sign of the cross on his forehead.

   “And here they are always preaching about sacrifice and service,” Sal said.

   “Deveras, truthfully, I’d trade places with any of the Brothers if they’d give me a chance,” Blas said.

   “Yeah, keep dreaming,” Sal said. He moved the conversation away from Blas’s religious daydreams. Why even think of taking religious vows? It would get Blas into trouble one day.