The longer I worked in the ships cargo hold, the warmer it got... maybe it was time to take a break, get some fresh air and sunshine and maybe have a bite to eat. I set aside the crate I was rifling though and headed out over the plank boards that connected the ship to the dock. Taking a deep breath I could faintly smell the putrid stench of death that waifted in from the city to the docks - thankfully most of the buildings blocked a direct breeze and the water provided more fresh air.
I made my way to the bench near the warehouse and began peeling and sectioning some fruits from the crate there I also opened a paper sack of day old bread and broke off a couple pieces.
It was then that I noticed there was no noise... no happy jit screeches, no shuffling or scrambling from his normally active self. I paused and set my things on the bench and stood up to look around. No movement what so ever... I began to walk the length of the pier calling to him in case he'd gone inside a ship - the curious beast he was....
"Bug? .... Where are ya little fella? ..... Bug??"
I'd named him Bug for various reasons... he was as small as one when I'd lifted him out of a crate on this very dock almost a year ago... he tucked happily in my satchel then and we'd become partners in crime... I'd spent months training him to bring good shinies and leave useless trinkets behind. He was an excellent study. It is really a jits nature to pilfer things. I'd simply channeled his nature into a skillset that was opportune to me.
I'd also found out, quickly enough, that THIS jit could be an annoying little fella, always bugging me to play, or feed him... there were times I could get nothing done because his pestering, it was then that he was introduced to his crate... not the travel crate we'd arrived with, but a large crate with enough room and toys for him to entertain himself with - and stay out of my hair while I got things done.
"BUG?!" I yelled louder - it was not at all like him to not respond. I began to panic, what if he fell in the water?? could jits swim? could THIS jit swim? he hated water... absolutely hated it. He'd probably drown..... " BUG!!! Where are you?" by now I was convinced that Bug had fallen in and I ran up and down the various docks peering into the water - fully expecting to see my jit floating.
As panic abated some I shifted full gear into the next stage of grief... denial.
"C'mon Bug where are ya little buddy?? This better not be some kind of game you're playing. You come out - right now. I know you're out there... you're not dead. get over here!"
And still... nothing. Well he wasnt in the water... so he must have let his curiousity get the better of him. I headed for the warehouses and the street beyond... Calling his name out every few ihn.
BUUUUG!!!
