“First, you strip off the sheets,” Edwin said, demonstrating on one of the beds and indicating that Eloise should do the same to the neighboring bed. Eloise stood petulantly, arms crossed. Edwin raised his eyebrows in warning. “If you’re no use to me,” he said, “I can put you in the bilge until you change your tune. How’s that sound?”
Eloise was not familiar with nautical terms. “What’s a bilge?” she asked.
“Think sewer,” Edwin said with a half-grin, half-sneer and a wink. “‘It would be a shame to get bilge all over those nice, fancy clothes.”
Eloise swallowed. Edwin had already proven that he could easily best her in a fight. She could run away, but to where? The ship was in the air; she’d seen that from the portholes as they’d walked here. There was no place she could likely go that she wouldn’t be found. She sighed. Making beds suddenly didn’t seem so bad. Reluctantly, she began stripping the bed as Edwin had indicated.
“Good choice, girl,” Edwin said, his demeanor lightening slightly. “You bundle those up and drop them in this chute here.” Eloise had not noticed it before, but a square box sat in the corner, about three feet tall and two feet on a side, with a large, square hole in the top. She followed Edwin’s example and tossed the soiled bedding down the chute. Peering down after it, hot, humid air assaulted her, and she saw a huge laundry container with other soiled laundry. Laundry crewmembers could be seen as they appeared and disappeared from view, taking various pieces and sorting them.
“Now,” Edwin continued, taking a complete set of sheets and pillowcases from a wide cabinet next to the chute, “when you put the sheets on, you square them up like this.” He masterfully placed the bottom sheet onto the bed, the left and right sides perfectly matched for length and perfectly aligned to the mattress. “The bottom sheet lines up to the foot of the mattress,” he said. “Tuck in the head end. Smooth the sheet; there are to be no wrinkles.” He demonstrated, making it look effortless. He paused, gesturing to the other beds in the room. Not a single wrinkle could be found on any of them. “Precision and excellence,” he said simply. “Take pride in knowing that you’re performing a much-needed task and performing it well.” He turned back to the mattress.
“Now, grasp the bottom of the sheet on the side and pull it up. See this excess?” He gestured to the bit of sheet that draped below the bottom of the mattress. “Tuck that in, with no wrinkles. See how the top of the sheet makes a forty-five degree angle? That’s what you’re shooting for. Next, lay your hand on the side of the mattress to keep it from wrinkling when you bring the top sheet down. Tuck it in, keeping it free of wrinkles. Do the same to the other side.”
He grabbed another sheet and laid it on top of the first one. “Do the same thing to the second sheet,” he instructed, “but align it to the head of the bed. Remember: the edge of the first sheet aligns to the feet, ‘first-feet’; the second sheet aligns to the head.” Eloise nodded, finding herself surprisingly interested in the care Edwin took to make the bed. She had always taken for granted how beds looked, but she saw now that it was not through haphazard, cursory attention that they came to look that way. Edwin finished the second sheet and then grabbed a pillowcase. “Put the pillow into the pillowcase, then smooth it,” he said as he demonstrated, “and then tuck the excess under the pillow and place it excess-side-down on the bed.” He repeated the action for the other pillow. When finished, he handed Eloise a set of bedding. “Now your turn.”
Eloise confidently took the sheets and laid them on a neighboring bed. She had to be careful, she mused, but Edwin had made it look so easy, and if he could do it, of course, so could Eloise. She fumbled with the first sheet. She couldn’t get it to go over the bed evenly. Where Edwin had flicked his wrists and commanded the sheet, Eloise was making a mess of it. She began to get frustrated. Hoping to move on, she started tucking the sheet at the head of the bed in. Edwin stopped her quickly.
“That’s not gonna pass muster,” he said firmly. “See this?” he asked, pointing to the misalignment between the sheet and the foot of the bed. “Don’t worry about trying to make it sit perfectly by flicking your wrists. That takes years of practice,” he said kindly. “Move it by hand.” He tugged gently on one of the corners, squaring it. Eloise, still frustrated, but cooled off, did as instructed to the other corner, and it, too, squared itself to the mattress.
“Very good,” Edwin said, praising her lightly. “Now, make sure the left and right sides are the same distance from the mattress, and make sure the front and back hang evenly.” Eloise went from side to side and front to back, straightening the mattress. It was frustratingly slow, not at all like it had been when Edwin did it. Edwin read her mind. “By the time you’ve made ten thousand beds, lass, you’ll be as good at it as I am.” Eloise frowned. Ten thousand beds? Surely he exaggerated! “Not a bit,” Edwin said, grinning wryly and winking knowingly.
After a few more minutes of effort, Eloise finally got the sheet aligned and the head tucked in.
“Good. Now, smooth the sheet. See the wrinkles there? You don’t want to trap those under the top sheet.” Edwin showed Eloise how to use her hand and arm to smooth the sheet, and Eloise did the same to the other side. She had to admit, the sheet looked good.
“Now the side. Lift the edge, a little more, there! Good. Tuck the side in. Mind the wrinkles. Good. Now lay your hand flat. Yes, just like that. Fold down. No, mind the wrinkles. Yes, good. Now begin tucking it in. Smooth it out. Good. Very good. One side down; now the other. Hand flat. Good. Tuck it in. Excellent!” He clapped Eloise on the shoulder. Eloise, who had never done an honest day’s work in her life, suddenly felt a sense of achievement. Something so menial as making a bed gave her a sense of satisfaction at a job well done. But the job wasn’t over, yet.
“All right, next sheet,” Edwin prompted her. She tried again to make the sheet fan out across the mattress as Edwin had done, but without success. She sighed and began the tedious task of aligning the sheet. “No, no. Remember, the second sheet aligns to the head,” Edwin said. “How are you going to get into bed if the head is tucked in?” Eloise nodded and corrected the alignment, annoyed, but no longer flustered. Edwin was patient with her, and she finally got the bed made. She stood back to admire her work.
“Nice job, lass,” Edwin said, nodding. “Now the next one!”
Eloise groaned in dismay. That had taken forever! Now she had to do another one? She rolled her eyes and shuffled over to the cabinet to get another set of sheets.
“Forgetting something?” Edwin asked, glancing at the bed, which had not been stripped. Eloise moved to drop the sheets onto it.
“Tut! If the sheets touch a soiled bed, they become soiled,” Edwin stopped her. Eloise looked for a clean place to place the sheets, and finally put them on the bed she’d just made. “Good,” Edwin said as Eloise stripped the bed and deposited the linens in the chute. Edwin took a seat on one of the beds and watched Eloise as she worked. The girl was good-looking, and the honest work somehow made her more attractive, less obnoxious, he thought to himself. “When you’re finished, I’ll inspect it,” he said to Eloise, who nodded and continued dressing the bed. At length, Eloise called him over.
Edwin inspected the bed and shook his head. “It looks very nice,” he said encouragingly, “not a single wrinkle. The trouble is, you’ve made it upside-down!”
Eloise flushed, and she sighed in frustration. “Come on, Ed! It doesn’t matter! It’s made, isn’t it?”
Edwin raised an eyebrow in warning, and Eloise quieted down. “Don’t call me Ed. What we do is of utmost importance, Eloise,” he said solemnly. “Without the propulsion crew, this ship would fall out of the sky.”
“Yes,” Eloise protested, “but they can get it on without a perfectly made bed, can’t they?”
Edwin smiled, amused, but his tone remained solemn. “Yes, they can. But my goal here is to provide them with everything they need. You saw the place on your way in: ample food to keep them energized, a large com
mon area for them to socialize, nicely made beds to make them comfortable while they perform their jobs.” With an air of pride in his work and genuine concern for his subordinates, he summarized, “I take good care of my crew, and it’s little things like making sure the beds are always consistent for them that let me show my care for them.”
Eloise rolled her eyes. Okay, she got the pride-in-your-work thing, but this was excessive. And she didn’t want to remake the bed. Edwin gave her an expectant look. “What?” Eloise asked.
“How’s about fixing those sheets?” Edwin replied, smiling, his eyes crinkling warmly.
Eloise huffed. “All right, all right, you win,” she said. Geez, Edwin’s personality was more winning than hers was, and it seemed like Edwin didn’t even have to fake it! She had to smile to herself: only someone like Edwin could convince her to redo something like this. She stripped the sheets and remade the bed.
Edwin watched placidly. The kid wasn’t bad, he thought, just spoiled. She was already coming around, and Edwin knew that if he could break the kid of her cockiness, she’d be a favorite amongst the crew.
When Eloise finished, Edwin again inspected her work. “Perfect, Eloise,” he beamed. “Keep up the good work. Just two hundred ninety-eight more beds in here, then three hundred in each of the other rooms, and you’ll be done!” Eloise blanched. “Don’t worry! You’ll be that much closer to hitting ten thousand beds,” Edwin grinned with a wink. Eloise’s face registered no relief. Nearly a thousand beds a day, when it had taken her almost an hour to do just two, was an impossible task, and Edwin had been right: she’d never get relief! She moaned unhappily.
Edwin chuckled. “Gotcha,” he said, winking again. Eloise’s face registered puzzlement, and then brightened with hope. “I’m not going to make you change all the beds today,” he said. “Good work deserves a reward,” he said. “But I do want fifteen of the beds in here changed. I promise you that by the time you’re done, they’ll be much easier.” Eloise looked about her. Counting the two she’d done and the one that Edwin had demonstrated, that left twelve beds. At half an hour apiece, that would be six hours. Her heart sank, but it was buoyed back up knowing that at least it wasn’t nine hundred beds. She nodded and set to work changing the beds, hoping to finish faster than she’d calculated. Edwin watched her, quietly satisfied with himself. By giving Eloise an impossible task — and it was impossible, even for a very experienced crewman — and then reducing the severity, he’d made it much more palatable. Had he just told Eloise to do twelve more beds, Eloise might have balked much more. Yes, what Eloise knew about manipulation was not even a drop in the bucket of knowledge Edwin had.
A mere four hours later, fifteen of the beds were perfectly made, and Edwin called Eloise over to stand next to him at the doorway.
“Don’t they look great?” Edwin asked, pleased with the work. “Fifteen beds’ worth of well-done work.” He clapped Eloise on the back. “Uh, huh,” Eloise said half-heartedly. She appreciated the praise for her work— other than lecherous comments about her body, she rarely got praise for anything — but her stomach was growling, she was beyond thirsty, and handling so many sets of sex-soiled sheets had left her terribly horny. While she was proud of his work, her mind was elsewhere.
Edwin sensed Eloise’s restlessness. Poor kid had never had to learn patience. She’d learn some here, Edwin mused, then putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder, he led her out to the common area. He spoke as they walked.
“The common area is where you’ll likely spend most of your time,” he said. “We have books and newspapers, and beds, chairs, tables, and couches for you to spend time with your crew mates. But I suspect that what you’d like right now is a trip to the buffet.”
Eloise’s stomach growled. Yes, she would like that, she thought, but what she wanted even more was a tussle in the sack. A glance at the food spread on the buffet table, though, even if it wasn’t the finest of foods, convinced her to take what she was offered here and now. She made her way to the table and took several hunks of bread, cheese, sausage, and roasted chicken and put them on her plate. Bottles of wine and liquor, carafes of juices and water, and coffee and tea leaves of several varieties in sealed glass jars were available to drink, and all manner of flatware, plates, saucers, cups, tumblers, wine glasses and flutes, and implements for heating water finished out the buffet. Eloise selected a freshly opened bottle of port, and barring anyone stopping her, took the entire bottle with her. Edwin seemed not to care; let the girl have her fill, and then put her back to work. She’d learn.
Eloise ate quickly, and then went back for seconds. The food was not as bad as it looked, she thought, and the wine was actually quite tasty. Yes, if Edwin was responsible for this spread, he apparently did care for his workers. Good to know.
Edwin sat across the table from Eloise with a hunk of cheese and a small glass of juice. It didn’t take much to keep him going, and he preferred to snack multiple times during the day rather than to fill up all at once. At length, Eloise finished stuffing her face and settled in to draining the bottle of port.
“You’ve got a hearty appetite, lass,” Edwin said conversationally, “and you take to port like a fish.” He smiled.
“Yeah, what of it?” Eloise asked, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.
“A word to the wise,” Edwin said in warning, “Don’t let it interfere with your duties. If you cannot stand up, you cannot make beds, and if you cannot make beds, you’re a stowaway, as far as I’m concerned. I don’t take kindly to stowaways.”
Eloise considered, and then pushed the half-empty bottle aside. “Happy?” she asked.
“That’s up to you,” Edwin countered. “If you can hold down an honest day’s work half-rats, then more power to you. If not, and I catch you shirking your duties, you’ll spend your time cleaning the bilge. There’s no reason to clean the bilge, and there’s no way to clean the bilge, but you’ll stay down there until it’s clean, and you won’t have to be sober to do it.”
Eloise took a breath and let it out. Edwin’s point had been made.
“All right,” Edwin said, rising from the table. “Time to show you to your cabin.” He and Eloise started down the port side of the ship, a mirror image of the hallway on the starboard side. They passed a hallway on the right — the same hallway they had turned down to make the beds. They passed a second hallway that looked the same as the first. Edwin stopped at the next door on the right, numbered 320. He opened the door and showed Eloise in, who stopped in dismay: the room was tiny. The bed was tiny. There were no rugs on the floor, no personal wet-bar, none of the luxuries she held so dear. A bed, a nightstand with an electric light, a clock, and a washbasin were all the amenities provided.
“Where do I go to the bathroom?” Eloise asked, trying to conceal just how badly the lack of finery had struck her nerves.
“There are water closets at the forward and aft ends of the ship,” Edwin replied, “next to the stairs.”
“Oh.” Eloise’s tone didn’t change. She was overcome with disappointment.
“Oy, it’s not so bad,” Edwin said encouragingly, patting Eloise’s shoulder. “It sure beats the accommodations of the rest of the crew. Their washbasins aren’t heated.”
Still, Eloise remained unmoved. While Edwin thought Eloise would do well to come down a peg or two, or ten, he was sorry that it had to be done this way. He thought of a way to soften the blow.
“Say,” he said abruptly, “you look like you could use a good fuck.”
Eloise’s mood instantly changed, and she nodded eagerly. She could always use a good fuck.
“I tell you what,” Edwin continued. “Let’s go check out the collection room. If you can get a few of the beds tended, I’ll let you take a shot at getting laid.”
Eloise brightened. Take a shot at getting laid? Please! At any given time, she had at least half a dozen guys wrapped around her finger. She followed Edwin as they rounded the corner into the hallway. To the right was a door m
arked “Collection Room,” with two symbols interlocked beneath it. To the left was a nondescript door.
“That’s my stateroom,” Edwin mentioned in passing, gesturing to the nondescript door as he opened the door to the collection room. The inside looked identical to the bipolar collection room; only the occupants differed. The room reeked of men and women and of their sex. Several of the couples stopped when they entered and looked at Eloise, who played it cool. She knew she was the center of attention. She always was. Getting laid would be a snap. Edwin watched the couples watching Eloise, Eloise’s reaction, and the couples’ reaction to Eloise’s playing it cool. Yes, Eloise would have a hard time getting laid today, he thought.
The couples went back to what they were doing when the two walked in, and Edwin took a seat on one of the beds next to the door. Eloise sat next to him, turned on and single-minded.
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